&&. ┋ INK VEINED ❞

George knew that she would be a natural as Eliza took over, detailing the proposal perfectly and leading George to watch her quietly with a gentle, loving smile. He was sure those watching this interview would be quick to point out the way that he looked at her; the way that they looked each other. Truth be told George didn’t know any other way. He couldn’t help but chuckle rather bashfully as she mentioned the book, George scratching at the scruff on his chin while the interviewer pressed on the issue. It was a good idea, he’d give himself that, but humility was the angle they were going with. “Well, I wouldn’t have gone through the trouble of writing a book if I didn’t feel the same way,” he teased, shooting Eliza a brilliant smile. “She’s the magnificent writer between us, believe me.” He could practically see the interviewer swooning herself as she responded. “How romantic. I think I speak on behalf of all the little girls out there who dreamed of becoming a princess one day are wishing that they were in your shoes right now.” Even if it was addressed to Eliza he felt the need to comment. “I’m the one who’s lucky.” They weren’t lucky because he happened to be a prince, they were lucky because they found who they were meant to be with. Not many people could say the same. 

As he smiled, thumb lightly brushing along the skin of Eliza’s hand for support he felt that the interview picked up on that vibe, wasting no time in leading into another easy question that he had no problem answering. “You have only been official to the public for a handful of months, breaking royal tradition plenty along the way, but when did this whirlwind romance really begin?” Thinking back to it, he really couldn’t believe how much had changed since they had met – how different he was, how unsure they had been about one another at one point. It made him grin. “Close to exactly one year ago,” George answered, looking back to Eliza as he recalled when they first met. “We met at a gathering between mutual friends,” i.e. a nice way of saying a party, “and we happened to quite literally bump into one another.” He left out the part about spilled drinks and how a drinking game had knocked him off his balance but he continued on with a smile. “Truth be told I don’t think that she liked me very much at first,” he added, chuckling under his breath with a small shake of his head. “She was far more interested in her book, anyway.” 

         The two were opposing sides of a magnet, drawn to each other kinetically and while their attention did go to the interviewer, it was quite apparent that their attention was also upon one another, feeding off each other and supporting as any couple worth a grain of salt would. It was clear they were there for each other and oh was it clear that they loved each other. And they did this all without knowing. It was perfect, romantic. Those bright eyes of hers flicked to him whenever he spoke and as he smiled winsomely at her, she ducked, blushing and laughed girlishly, squeezing his hand and watching him until the interviewer spoke up again. Before she could say a word, George was in for casual humility and honesty and she mouthed to him an ‘I love you’ before replying, too. “That’s not why they should, if for any reason, wish they were me. They should wish to be themselves. But to wish to love like I love George and am loved in return, that is what they should want. They’re a princess either way. The title isn’t important like that, it’s important here as a society and as tradition and the wonderful thing that British monarchy is, but in the name of who a person is, their character matters. Not their name. That’s why I love George, and vice versa. We are who we are, title or not. I hope that makes sense.” Nerves tinged for a moment, knowing her wordiness could come off wrong, but she hoped it came off as she meant. Not how others could spin it.

None of this was how he had wanted it to go, but it was the cards that they had been dealt. Eliza finishing school before announcing their engagement, getting planning underway before it came to light, easing the love of his life into what would only turn out to be a far stronger storm than he had originally anticipated. George wished that he could gather her in his arms and take all of it away. He wished that it was different, where he was merely just a boy and she a girl and they could marry and do whatever the hell they wanted without the entire world watching. But that wasn’t his life and now it wasn’t Eliza’s. All he could do was live up to his expectations as a husband – protect her, cherish her, make sure that she was happy and cared for and knew how much he loved her every single day of their rest of their lives. Telling the world how much he loved her in an interview would be a piece of cake; the circumstances were merely a story that they were forced to edit and make their own.

He had left her with a kiss to her forehead before guiding her back towards the set, not questioning for a moment whether or not she was actually ‘ready.’ George knew that she would get through this like an expert, and the fact that he would be right beside her could only help. He had no qualms asking them to rearrange the set, placing them instead on a couch, side-by-side with their hands intertwined; they could really say no to royalty, after all. It was only a matter of making sure final touches were made, everyone and every thing was in their place, and as the cameras finally rolled to life and they were faced with their first ‘official’ interview as a couple he wasted no time in smiling happily at the interviewer, nor did he waste time in secretly squeezing Eliza’s hand for not only her support but his own. 

“Your Royal Highness, Eliza Dawson, congratulations to the both of you,” said the interviewer, to which George happily thanked her. “Shall we start with the proposal?” She turned to George. “When and where did you pop the question?” Well, at least she didn’t start with the picture. The whole world had probably put together that he had proposed to her in Paris by now but he didn’t skip a beat, smiling softly as he briefly glanced towards Eliza. “Earlier this month, while we were visiting Paris. I saw how much Eliza loved the city and I had been planning to ask her for a while, so I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to incorporate a proposal with some of her favorite things in arguably the most romantic city in the world.” He squeezed her hand again, awaiting her to respond with any details she wished to divulge, giving her an opportunity to speak of their love through her eyes.

         More cameras flashed, but it was less noticeable from where they were, it was a truth she would and honestly partly already has come to know. When they are together and even apart, people would want to document every moment. At least here in this studio, she could trust that they would not be working toward their embarrassment, if anything the PR team likely told them of how sweet the couple actually is and has been and told them to capture that for outtakes and for the network’s magazine coverage of it if there was such thing for those without tellies or internet. Either way, the whole time they were together in public would naturally be rife with moments like these -- the butterfly kiss of her lashes on her own cheeks as his lips pressed tenderly to her head, the way their fingers played together, the way he looks at her, the way she looks at him... If anything could turn the way the media and people were looking at them with the scandal now, it wasn’t really the PR and the removal, it was them being exactly who they are together. It was what was needed.

George was used to the hectic and unending days that could come with living a life in the public’s eye, but this was unlike anything that he had experienced. Invasions of privacy came with the title, yet that did not mean press had the right to cross the line so brazenly. Him and his family had been in damage control mode since the wee hours of the morning. Gratefully, thankfully, a call to IPSO had put a stop to the spreading of the picture, British publications pulling their stories and offering apologies and replacing every inkling of the picture with the news of their official engagement. But he couldn’t stop the internet nor other publications from around the world, even if he could make them all look like fools for stooping so low as to blast something so personal into the eyes of millions. All that they could do now was focus on the whirlwind of their romance, something that the world had been reacting with enthusiasm and fascination. An interview was only the first of countless official appearances they would make now that they were engaged, but their first interview following the hell they had gone through that morning made this entire interview extra important. It was why he wasn’t surprised when his fiancée suddenly flew into his arms following his third outfit change of the day. 

“Whoa,” the prince chuckled under his breath as the familiar warmth of Eliza crashed into him, George’s arms naturally encasing the woman around them. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the flash of a camera, knowing that a sweet moment like this would be the perfect outtake for them to use, but this wasn’t about putting on a show. This was about making sure his fiancée was okay. George pulled back, hand gently cupping Eliza’s chin as his smile tamed to something of more concern. “I love you, too, but what’s wrong?” Not even the voice of an assistant stating ‘your highness, we’re ready to begin’ could snap him out of his concern, George telling her to give them one moment before he was taking Eliza’s hand and guiding her to the corner, behind all of the lights and cameras and away from the crew. “I know that this is your first official interview,” he began, voice low and meant only for her as he gently met her eye. “The beginning of today was a terrible way to introduce you to what comes with royalty. The duties you’ll take on start now and I’ll be honest – none of this is going to be easy.” As if she didn’t know that already, given what they had been through. “But we’re going to be just fine. We’ll be ourselves, just…more careful about what we say. I’ll even hold your hand the entire time.” Smiling, his hand rose to gently brush a stray hair away from her face, eyes glistening. He knew that she could do this. “I’m ready when you are.”

         It was the apologies bred by IPSO that quelled some of the fire in her, though, she wasn’t quite sure such an event wouldn’t happen again from them, it caused a momentary reflection on how the photo and the passing of it was wrong. It was in poor taste and she knew that from every angle, even from her journalism classes. Perhaps those who shared would think more now about what they shared but perhaps they’d only think of the statistics. Now, though, especially after their piece was said, there wasn’t reason for her to say anything else. Not in the eyes of her new family at least.

While hearing that she was with him through anything, willing to enter his crazy family and everything that came along with it, he wished that he could give her more. George may have had plenty of money, resources, and privileges, but none of that would help in preparing Eliza for the insanity that was to come. There were procedures and protocols they would both be forced to take, and that included limitations when it came to a wedding. While he smiled at her insistence that they marry in any way, shape, or form, he knew that it wasn’t quite that easy. They didn’t have the luxury to elope or do anything of the kind when they didn’t have the freedoms that others possessed. But while he couldn’t quite give her exactly that, he had already sworn to work his hardest to give her everything that she could ever possibly want or desire. A wedding he would give her, and just like she asked, it would probably have to be sooner rather than later given the latest fiasco. 

It was heartening enough, knowing that Eliza was willing to handle this. She already was, with far more grace and dignity than he. There wasn’t anything that she couldn’t overcome and he knew this. He knew that she could stand up for herself, would never stop her from doing so, but she also couldn’t stop him from the anger that was raging inside of him just from the way his father addressed Eliza. George stepped forward, his hand finally dropping from Eliza’s as he confronted his father, tired eyes narrowing. At this point the prince was running on no sleep, and absolutely no patience. He wasn’t about to stand there for a second longer while his father revved up on insults. In his father’s opinion, George had always been an embarrassment to a family so powerful the entire world recognized them. The slightest misstep was a travesty, and in his eyes Eliza had committed the ultimate sin.  

“Do not speak to her like that,” George bit, eyes like slits as he tried to keep his anger out of control. Directly disobeying his superior – just one of the many perks of his family’s peking order – could worsen things but he didn’t care. His father sniffed, clearly annoyed, but before he could speak again George cut him off. It needed to be said. “What happened was out of our hands. You should be blaming the sick bastard who took that picture, not us, not Eliza. What we do in private is none of your business nor the world’s business, but now that has been changed you will not blame Eliza. We’ll do what’s necessary to smooth this over, but our wedding, our marriage, our entire relationship will be on our terms. I’ve bloody well messed up plenty in my life as you’re so quick to point out, but you are not going to mess up the only good thing about it.” Taking a moment to breathe, he could practically see the vein in his father’s forehead throbbing, but he wasn’t quite done just yet as he thought back to what she said in the limo. “And another thing: Eliza and I will be married as soon as possible. Preferably in the upcoming months.”

His father scoffed. “And endure that speculation as to why? No. You will wait.”

“No, we won’t,” continued George, putting his foot down once and for all. “Whether it be Notre Dame, or Westminster. We will be married wherever and whenever Eliza wishes to be married because whether you like it or not she will become a member of this family and will have your respect.”

         All Eliza would ever and could ever ask was for his love, for him never to leave her like every other man had in her life. And he had promised that, she believed him, so being there by his side for all of the drama, all of the crazy that he said it was, was the least he cold do and she could definitely handle it. There was worse she could take and has. Everything that would be thrown at her from here on out would be taken in stride, maybe questioned, but always followed so that she wouldn’t case any more damage, but also wouldn’t lose him for reasons she had no control over. She deserved that. And maybe she knew her re-proposal wouldn’t be possible, but he had to know the feelings she had for him and the sincerity she put into every word because he deserved her, too. He deserved the happiness they felt. And that would come true, no matter what his father did now. No matter what, she’d be there with an ‘I love you.’

“You shouldn’t read the comments,” George said, perhaps a bit more shortly than he had meant. But he was angry, angry at the one who had taken the picture, angry at those who had spread it around, angry at anyone who felt they had the right to look at his fiancée and comment on her like that. Eliza deserved so, so much more than that, than him. If she had never agreed to see him in the first place she never would have been this exposed. While the one comment of support she read aloud was nice he knew there were thousands more that perhaps weren’t, mixed alongside those with common decency and respect. But did anyone have that anymore, when they were so willing to humiliate them? He took his phone, shutting it off and throwing it onto the seat across from him as if it was poisonous and poised to bite. There was poison in there, alright.

Tense from head to toe George bit his tongue, needing to stop himself from going on a rampage. Seeing Eliza so embarrassed and hurt from this was enough to make him want to wage war with the world. The only thing that could possibly snap him out of it was Eliza herself, George slowly but surely beginning to soften as she took his hand, feeding him kind words that were more graceful than anything he could have come up with in that moment. He always knew that she would make a great princess, but whether or not she’d still want to be after this…George sighed, considerably relaxing as Eliza kissed each knuckle, nuzzled further into him, took his face between her hands so that they locked eyes. He didn’t regret any of it, either. Sex was nothing to be ashamed about, and the comment about sex with him made him smile ever so slightly, but she still didn’t deserve to be put in this situation in the first place. “Okay,” he murmured, letting both arms wrap tightly around her middle as he held her into his chest, pressing his forehead to her own. “But I’d still rather keep you to myself.”

His smile faltered if for a moment as he held her gaze, knowing what needed to be said. “When you become a royal, your life is no longer your own. Everything that you do is analyzed, every move that you make must be precise and careful. There’s a difference between dating me and being a member of the family and I wanted to ease you into it, all of the duties and appearances and pressures before and after the wedding.” Being exposed to the world like this was enough to send anyone running in the opposite direction. “I just hope that you still want me after this,” George added, half-joking as he rested a hand upon her cheek and leaned forward, giving her a kiss. “I love you, and my family, your family, will protect you. You have my word.”

While he held Eliza close to him throughout the remainder of the car ride, not even her warmth was enough to quell the mounting anxiety the closer they grew to the palace. He could only imagine the fight that was about to be had with his father, or how disappointed his grandmother must have been. He couldn’t bear to think that Eliza would be caught in the crossfire as the car entered through the private entrance of the palace, avoiding all onlookers. Assisting Eliza out of the car, he held onto her hand tightly, as if he didn’t wish to let go, and guided her inside where servants stood erect in greeting, acknowledging both of their existences as George bypassed them all to the woman he recognized as one of their PR. “Your highness,” she nodded her head, clutching tighter to the papers in her hand as she looked to both he and Eliza. “Your father is in the green drawing room,” she told them both, and with he resigned sigh George began his trek to the room in question, never once removing his hand from Eliza’s.

When they reached drawing room the doors were opened, George spying his father pacing as he spoke to several members of their PR, barking orders at each. When he noticed George had arrived he stopped, dismissing everyone in the room but not waiting for them to leave before he began his assault. “Here I had thought that the sex scandals were over and done with,” the man began, shooting George a withering stare as he approached them both. “Somehow you have managed to outdo that mess with the Brazilian model. I should have known better.” George felt the back of his neck prickle with anger, his grip in Eliza’s hand tightening as his father continued by turning his attention over to Eliza. “Ms. Dawson, leave us be.”

“She stays,” bit George, knowing that it was within Eliza’s right and knowing that if she left he may have done something unthinkable. Directly disobeying his father wasn’t the brightest the man’s current state but really, could it get much worse? His father once more gave him a stare that would make Medusa shudder before he turned, pacing back to one of the tables that was covered with papers. “You will fix this. Immediately. Our legal department has taken care of the primary media outlets spreading this filth. They will be removing the images and issuing apologies. Of course, it will remain all over the internet for now.” George shifted in place, expecting the other shoe to drop as he continued on without a beat. “Until then you must address the world. You will be properly and modestly clothed before addressing the press outside of Kensington to announce your engagement, and then you will sit down with the BBC for an interview. And this time,” he added, more so looking to Eliza than George, “you will be keeping your legs firmly closed.”

It was difficult for him to keep his anger in check but somehow George managed, if nothing for Eliza’s sake. It helped, her holding his hand reassuringly, feeding him soothing words that certainly didn’t go unappreciated. But the violation of their privacy, of Eliza’s privacy, was too much. He’d been accustomed to it since he was a mere child, forced into the public eye because it was his duty and he had no other choice. Eliza was choosing this, without yet grasping the full consequences and sacrifices that needed to be made. He had wished to ease her into it, not throw her to the wolves. Changed and ready to go – though he knew it didn’t matter what they wore, considering they would be forced into pre-picked clothing for the inevitable interview and announcement – George took Eliza’s hand, guided her down the elevator and into the garage where the driver awaited them. Luckily, graciously, there were no photographers waiting for them there but that changed, as he expected, once they left the garage to cameras snapping and bright flashes violating their tinted windows. The muscle in George’s jaw ticked as he forced his head straight, telling the driver perhaps a bit more aggressively than anticipated to just keep driving. This was sure to be a long, long day.

“They have no shame,” he muttered more to himself than Eliza as he leaned back in the seat, noting how the sun was only just beginning to rise. Europe would be waking up at any moment and the first news they would be greeted with was this. Taking a deep, calming breath through his nose he finally turned to Eliza, figuring now was a good time to tell her what was wrong. It wasn’t as if it could be avoided any longer. “My father called to inform me that there’s a certain picture being shopped around of us on the night we were engaged,” he began, and while that didn’t sound so terrible at first, the rest of his sentence did. “It was of us in bed, as I was…well…” Frowning, George looked to his phone, opening the first notification there which took him straight to the picture of his head between her thighs. Regretfully, he handed the phone to Eliza. “Some bastard must have gotten a picture from the hotel across the street and now it’s all over the internet. Obviously we’re doing damage control, and I am going to sue the bloody outlets that are spreading this out of their own existence, but we’ll most likely have to make an official announcement.” He paused, before adding, “today.”

         It was true, ‘Liza had not imagined every consequence — she never would have thought a tabloid would cross this line. Talk about it, yes, but show actual pictures, rated R pictures, meant for the bedroom? It would shock her, it will shock her. There were lines that should not be crossed, but whether she’d cry or whether she’d fight, or even both was in question. ‘Til she knew, though, she was just worried and stuck to George’s side like glue, perhaps even more so than usual.

It went without saying how unequivocally happy George was. Everyone around the world could see that and he wasn’t going to make it a secret. He’d forgone tradition in making a relationship with her public from the get-go unlike previous women who had come before, knowing that it was one that was going to last. There hadn’t even been a scandal regarding him for the first time in years, despite the occasional PDA with Eliza. But every relationship needed its privacy, especially one that was constantly scrutinized in the press. That especially meant the intimacy shared between the two of them and no one else, moments that were meant to stay private. The line had been crossed in an unacceptable fashion and George would make certain that those responsible would pay, given that he could set his mind right enough to actually get to London. The anger was enough to make his fingers tremble. He would not have been surprised if Eliza could feel it herself as she grabbed his hand, asking him what was wrong. Where did he even begin? 

“My grandmother? No, no, my grandmother is well,” George shook his head as he withdrew, looking down at his phone to a whole new slew of notifications. “Physically, at least.” She was going to be furious, his entire family would. They despised any hint of a scandal and a sex scandal was the mother of them all. Christ, he couldn’t wait until the colossal fight with his father. George’s nerves appeared frayed as he found his way to the phone app, pressing the number to the driver on call at all times, just in case of an emergency. This constituted one. “I know that you will, babe, but this is a bit comp – yes, we need the car out front, immediately, and make certain there are no photographers.” George couldn’t drive in this state, not when he was too angry and in need of finding calm before the storm. He ended the call, blinking once at Eliza as she mentioned getting dressed. Right, that was a good idea. The last thing they needed was to be caught without any clothes on. Again. “Yes, we should dress,” he conceded, throwing his phone onto the bed before rushing to the closet where he pulled out the best he could find in a moment’s notice, pulling on some slacks and forgoing a belt. “I’ll explain in the car, just – don’t check your phone,” George grabbed a blue button down, shrugging it on before quickly fastening the buttons. “Not yet. I don’t want you to be upset, it’s just that we may have to announce our engagement sooner than planned, that’s all.”

         He was sullen, she could see it in his eyes -- a passion there she didn’t recognize, one that she’d never truly brought forth, not like this anyway, anger in her not accepting the truth, yes, actual anger, no. And it was unbridled in his gaze, though, she could not quite tell what it was. It concerned her, just like his hands did as they trembled within hers and the only conclusion she could make was it had everything to do with family. And she was only partially correct as if he weren’t who he was then their dallying would never have been publicized, however he was, and she hadn’t learned about that yet so she asked, she worried, feeling no other emotions yet.

@edawson / @elenaqilberts

It had been agreed upon that he and Eliza would not announce their engagement until after her graduation. He and his family wanted to avoid the enormous amount of extra press and attention she would receive due to this. There was a difference between dating a royal and marrying a royal. She’d need a personal security detail, she’d need a whole new wardrobe. Life as she knew it would completely change and George wanted Eliza to finish her education in peace. He was perfectly content keeping their engagement between themselves until then, when the media circus began and ‘royal-wedding-mania’ kicked in around the world. George rather enjoyed the secret actually, enjoying his fiancée all to himself before he had to share her with the world. But such bliss was cut short the morning shortly after they had returned to England. 

It was early, the sun had barely begun to rise when the sound of his phone ringing and buzzing on the bedside table woke him up. Groggily he shifted, carefully unweaving his arms from Eliza’s body and quietly shuffling out of his bed, not wanting to wake her. Whoever was calling him at this hour better have had something important to say. He snuck outside of the bedroom, moving to the hallway where he finally answered the phone: a call from his father, which already wasn’t a good sign. He barely had the chance to say ‘hello’ when his voice, angry and urgent, shocked him awake. “How could you be so careless?” George blinked, asking what his father possibly meant. And when his father explained, each word making George’s stomach sink further, the prince nearly dropped the phone in anger. “What!?”

George hastily ended the call after his father told him to come to London right away where they would further discuss. He looked to his phone then, notification after notification, words like ‘royal prince’ and ‘engaged’ mixed with ‘oral sex’ and ‘scandal’ hitting him like a train. George clicked one of the notifications, cursing when he saw a picture of the back of his head between the thighs of Eliza, her engagement ring glittering between the strands of his hair. Dammit. Dammit. He was going to kill whoever did this. He moved without haste back into the bedroom, throwing caution to the wind as he took Eliza’s arm, gently shaking her awake. “Eliza. Eliza, wake up. We need to leave for London as soon as possible.”

There had been plenty of speculation about their relationship from when they were first seen in public and showing her London, to when she was on his arm at the Queen’s garden party, to when they were finally caught kissing in New York at Thanksgiving time when he went to visit her family. And didn’t that cause a stir in itself, considering his family was banned from any type of public displays of affection. But he broke that rule time and again, solidifying in the minds of everyone around the world that they were destined for more, and it proved to him that they were destined for more as well. Their love story was far from finished — they had a wedding to plan, probably a new home to find, and, hopefully, children somewhere in the future. There was more to come and more to write about and George couldn’t wait to experience it all with her by his side. It made this moment in the bookshop all the more satisfying with the knowledge that they had the rest of their lives with similar and new moments to look forward to. And if marriage was going to be anything like this, he wished they had gotten married sooner. Preferably, the first day he had met her.

“That’s right, baby,” George grunted at hearing her say she was his, the words enough to cause a shiver down his spine. “All mine, for the rest of our lives.” And he was going to enjoy his life with her in the best way possible, with the sound of her cries and their bodies joining together on constant replay. Of course he knew and loved how he’d ruined her for anybody else, how her body completely belonged to him just like his belonged to her. Getting off on his own wasn’t even an option anymore; his body needed her, he needed her. His body was so in tune with hers that it shuddered just from the sound of her moans and screams of ecstasy, his name on her lips like some kind of prayer as she begged for release. And he’d give it to her, George’s fingers on her hips in a vise-like grip, his cock pulsating as he began bouncing her onto his cock, keeping their heated gaze. He gave little pivots of his hips to push up into her, her pussy riding his hard cock for all it was worth. It was a miracle he didn’t cum along with her as she screamed his name loud enough for all of Paris to hear, but he kept doing exactly what she begged him to: he didn’t stop.

George continued to roughly snap her hips down onto his cock, fucking her through her orgasm, feeling his own build in intensity as he pushed it off each time he was close. He leaned forward, swallowing one of her screams with a kiss as he felt the amazing pressure deep inside of him beginning to unwind. But he held it off, held it off until he could see the pleasure on his face beginning to mount once more, held it off until she finally broke and he felt her pulse around him again, signaling his own release. With a curse on his lips his head fell forward, George pumping his cock into her a few more times, their hips slapping together as he finally came deep inside of her. He couldn’t remember when he had an orgasm this intense as his arms wrapped around her, holding her tight against his chest like he was never going to let go.“Christ, I love you,” he groaned into her neck as one hand came to rest on her cheek, George lazily pulling his head back to meet her eye, breathing labored and quick as he stole another kiss. “I love you so much.” This wasn’t just the best sex of her life, and he suspected it had everything to do with the proposal. Damn, he couldn’t wait until the wedding night.

Since the first time they were photographed together the night they had met, talking over coffees and looking at one another like they were the last two people on earth George had knew that this was different. Never once had he looked at a girl like that; and he should know, given his entire life had been photographed and documented for the whole bloody world to see. No, Eliza had been different from the beginning, and the game had changed since then. Every ‘rule’ of the royals he had broken since he had met her. He’d invited her into the palace to say within weeks of knowing her, something was unheard of. He’d been seen with her in public, something that was also considered a no-no — in his family, you weren’t seen publicly in official settings unless an engagement was on the horizon. But that was it: it probably always was. George had subconsciously known since the beginning they they would end up here. Perhaps not here here, exactly — fucking against a bookshelf in one of Paris’s most famous bookstores wasn’t something that he could have known when she bought him coffee one night. But he’d known that they were meant to be, that one day they would be planning their wedding. And it was a wedding that would surely come as a relief now that rumors of their ‘shacking up’ together and what they got up to in the comfort of their own home was putting his family’s PR through hell. There was, however, one good thing about his position in society: he had the opportunity to tell the whole world just how much he loved Eliza.

There were many ways he told her, of course, and their current, compromising position was one of them. Whenever they took each other it was unlike anything George had ever experienced. Slow and sensual or fast and rough it was all from love, all from the primal desire and lust they held for one another. Just a look from Eliza as her eyes sparkled with mischief was enough to set him on edge, let alone the way she so easily and eagerly gave into him. Eliza gave everything over to him, letting him take the reigns, entrusting him with giving her everything that she desired. And George was more than happy stepping up to the plate to prove just how good he could make her feel, could make both of them feel. They would have plenty of time to explore each other’s bodies when they returned to their penthouse, George utterly and entirely confident that the two of them wouldn’t see the light of day until they were both satisfied or forced to face reality, whichever came first. For now he wanted to revel in how her body took him like he was made for her. George grinned devilishly as she called him ‘daddy,’ pressing her further into the bookcase as looked down between them where their hips met.

“You’re such a good girl,” he praised as he watched her sheath him completely, watching each time he pulled back only to thrust inside of her harder than before. “So fucking wet for me.” His cock practically glistened in the candlelight from how wet she was, and all from sucking him off. He enjoyed the sounds he managed to pull out of her, contributing in his own manner with grunts and moans of his own as he pounded into her, greedily obliging. George’s eyes found her face, wanting to watch every single reaction as he lifted her further up the bookcase, allowing his cock to fuck her deeper than before with the new angle. “Scream for me, baby,” George insisted as they pressed their bodies closer, leaning forward so that his teeth could tease the soft spot of skin right below her ear. “Let all of Paris know that you will always belong to me.”

         She didn’t even think of all the rules she could have and had been breaking -- staying for weeks with him after only just meeting, and not only staying with him, but in the palace? Being out and about with him in public in both general settings and the parties he invited her to? There wasn’t any thought for any of it, just the knowledge that she wanted to be near him, and she would never have told him no to any of that -- she did guess that living together would be an issue yet there they were, and his father could have taken the home away, but he didn’t... It was strange. But she was happy, grateful, and in love. They would have found a way, surely, if anything was different, but there they were. Living like any other happy couple, just with more paparazzi... And more formalities. She handled it, but she knew now it would be even more. They were going to marry. And she was ecstatic ( in more ways than one ).

If this was what he had to look forward to in married life he should have proposed to Eliza a long time ago, preferably the day that he had met her. Since that moment his world had revolved around nothing but her, nothing but her wondrous, beautiful self. George was eager to devoting his entire life to her. A wedding could not come soon enough, even if he knew that his family would want them to take their time. Hell, George would rush to the nearest church to have them married in a heartbeat if it was possible. All that he needed, all he would ever need, was Eliza and the life that they would lead together. As far as he was concerned he wasn’t meant to be the Prince of England – he was meant to be her husband. A choked sort of sound fled George’s lips as Eliza worked her mouth up and down his cock relentlessly, taking all of him to the hilt with an ease that had his head spinning. As if he needed any more proof that they were made for each other. A litany of curses and praise continued to flood from his lips which would part in a silent, sometimes not so much, moan. The warm, wet heat of her mouth was almost too much for him to take, and it became all the easier to tighten his grip on her hair and ground his hips against her face, breathing in shallow pants while fucking her throat.

He nearly cursed in protest as she pulled back, but the dirty words on her swollen lips made up for it all. “There’s only a lifetime of fucking you into oblivion to look forward to,” George grinned lazily, eyes as lustful as his voice as she stood and he watched her speak every word from that fuckable mouth. But it was the last thing she said that truly set him off: future Eliza Cromwell. Just the sound of that name drove him insane. Suddenly there was no more time for him to waste as George’s large hands grabbed her by the waist, turning her and slamming her against the bookcase with a thud. Or was that the couple of books that fell from the shelves onto the floor? “My wife only deserves the best,” he growled against her lips as his hands dove underneath her skirt, bunching the fabric up to get to the panties underneath. In one harsh motion he ripped the soaked panties from her body, enjoying the sound of its lace tearing apart. When they got back to their hotel they could take their time. He’d lie her on the bed and strip her slow and spend an hour alone making her cum again and again just from his tongue alone. But right then didn’t call for slow: it called for the kind of animalistic sex only the two of them could give each other. Reaching between them George took hold of himself, nudging his aching erection between her thighs, only sliding the head of his cock up and down her wet slit one or two times. But he couldn’t resist her much longer, George soon pushing deep inside of her right where he belonged. The sensation of his thick cock stretching her tight, wet pussy was enough to set him off edge, and his hands immediately fell to grip tightly onto her hips as he began to roughly thrust against her at a rather aggressive pace.

         Only he knew how long he had the ring, how long he truly planned to propose to her even though part of her knew it was a thought in his head -- as it was a thought in hers, a thought that she didn't want this to end, and that meant this step, as they were both people who were meant to follow some sort of tradition. But she likely didn't realize just how long he was completely set on it or maybe she did as he was completely set on her and she knew that even when she acted as though she didn't want to. Every part of this relationship was a whirlwind but it was well-warranted. And she knew he was the one she'd be with. So why waste another minute. Well, now, it was because of plan. Before it was because of feeling and thoughts. It was different. As she knew she'd claim them married within her heart just with that ring upon her finger and even without it ( likely ). And so would he, but there was society to go through and his family. Still, she was sure, a royal wedding could and would come much faster than any other non shot gun wedding out there. Especially when it would stop the slightly scandalous headlines about what the two were definitively doing shacked up in their own little 'house' ( and the papers weren't wrong ). Especially when their neighbors on the record have talked of their muffled and not so muffled moaning, if they only heard what was happening now as she pleased their 'sordid' prince. And if only they saw how he wanted her when she pulled back.

Eliza was constantly full of surprises, he would give her that. From the moment he had met her he had found her to be irresistible and unpredictable, keeping him on his toes, pulling things like this that left him momentarily reeling. While he may have been the type of man to enjoy control in sexual situations did Eliza completely change his views on that. The man had absolutely no trouble giving in and letting Eliza take the reigns. One of the most incredible things about their relationship that he had never experienced with another was the ability to fully give themselves to the other, to want to take care of the other in every conceivable way. While he thoroughly enjoyed the pleasure she was giving him, he couldn’t wait until he was able to return the favor. 

And what made it all the more pleasurable this time around was the knowledge of getting a lifetime of this with her. He had a lifetime to treat her like a queen, like the way that she deserved. Eliza’s words drove him crazy while she dropped to her knees, the man just constantly in awe of the woman and the fact that she was his. What had he ever done to deserve her love? George had yet to determine the answer, but he would tirelessly throughout the rest of his life to prove to her he was worthy. 

“Fuck,” George grit out, pushing her head down onto him a bit harder as she took him into her mouth. “You feel so good.” He couldn’t help the roll of his hips, the tip of his cock grazing against the back of her mouth. “You’re so good.” The praises were spilling from his lips quickly, longing to feel even more of her now that he had her offering herself up to him. He felt her hand inch up his leg, cupping him to add another layer of tension that drove him absolutely insane. George groaned as she found a rhythm, struggling to keep his eyes open and on her as he watched her move. His cock pulsed in her mouth and the heat was a suction that he wanted to sink into time and time again, her mouth slick and open wide around him as she swallowed him down. “You like that, don’t you? Taking my cock?” One hand softly brushed the hair away from her face, the other keeping a tight grip on the back of her neck as he pushed her down further, knowing she could take it. “You do it so well.”

         Confidence wasn’t something ‘Liza had in spades -- at least it wasn’t before she met George. There’d been few things, after every loss she faced, that she felt she could be proud of and still believe in. Herself wasn’t one of them, not unless it came to her writing or her intelligence. And her confidence in picking guys to trust was, well, shot. But he knew that, and she didn’t think about it anymore, ll she could think about was what came now and what came next. Next following once she allowed it, and drawing further out as time went on. Next was what would they do tomorrow, but now, next was what will we be doing a year from now, three years, five, ten? How would she take to her position, how would her position take to her... Whatever happened she’d do her best and her best was something now with George she didn’t think about it, so someday, with their future, it will be that way, too. As now her future wasn’t just her own, it was theirs. Secured --

Of course George knew how much he meant to her and he was amazed by it every single day. A man who had convinced himself that he would never find love, that he would eventually have to marry simply for appearances. Instead he was marrying the love of his life, a woman he was certain he was made for as she was made for him. Eliza had him wrapped around her finger. If she wanted him to leap from the top of the Eiffel Tower he would do it in a heartbeat if it made her happy, and he knew that she knew that. She had to have known. Every day when he woke beside her, holding her close to his body like he never wanted to let go. Or when he gifted her with presents and affection, nearly wrote her an entire book because it would make her happy. Everyone knew it, his family and those who knew of them around the world, how his eyes had become ‘hearts’ every time he was near her. But George didn’t mind. George was entirely happy being heart eyes for the woman he loved for the rest of his life. “A royal wedding in Notre Dame,” George mused, smiling to himself as he pretended to think it over. It would break with tradition but it would be perfect. “I think that can be arranged. I wouldn’t want anything less for the wedding of the century.”

“That makes two of us, my love,” George cooed as he held her close, unable to truly say through words how much it meant to him that he was her ‘priority’ because it was the exact same for him. In their eyes they were number one, always would be. Growing up as a prince it was ingrained into his head time and again that his country and family would always come first. That was before he met the reason he was living. “Your king? I like the sound of that. I like the sound of you being my queen, worshipping you as such,” the man murmured against her lips, fingers grasping at her waist a little tighter as his mind began to wander. He was so stupidly happy George couldn’t think straight; all he could think about was how much he adored her, loved her, and needed her. George’s breathing quickened as well as his heart rate as Eliza began kissing him, her lips moving lower much like his hands that found their home on her ass to give her a playful squeeze. The prince watched with glazed eyes as she untucked his shirt, unbuttoning the fabric with ease as she pressed burning kisses to his skin. As she moved lower and lower George grew harder, straining against his dress pants at the sight of her on her knees. When she expertly took him between her lips George groaned, his hands moving to either side of her head, smoothing out her brunette tresses. “Liza,” he breathed, his eyes dark and adoring as he met hers, his fingers gently tightening in her hair as he pushed his hips forward ever so slightly, eager to feel more. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

         “Perfect,” she breathed. Though she wondered if it was what he wanted til she let herself focus on what she knew – if it was what she wanted he would always want it even if he hadn’t thought about it before. But she also wanted the wedding to be everything he wanted, too. Later, though, she’d ask what he wanted from it for now having a general setting was all she wanted because he was all she needed and he had to know she’d marry him anywhere just to be officially his.

George had dedicated every second of their relationship to proving to her just how much she meant to him. When he said that he loved her he meant it. When he said that he would never hurt her he meant it. When he said that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her and treat her like the princess she was he meant it. Whatever she could possibly want in life she would have it. As a member of his family the world would be at her fingertips, everything she could possibly desire would be hers. Just the fact that she would marry him was enough. So long as he could hold her in his arms everyday, just like this, George was the luckiest man in the world. “It may be a royal wedding but don’t let my family make all of the decisions. I want it to be perfect for you, for us.” He remembered when his brother had gotten married, the international fascination and the media frenzy over the ‘wedding of the century.’ George had always been competitive when it came to Henry; he was going to have fun outshining his wedding with their own. 

“My country already loves you,” George continued, his thumbs gently brushing the tears of happiness away as he cupped her face, “and they will love having you as their princess. You’ve always been my princess in my eyes.” Being a royal wasn’t the happily-ever-after many thought it to be. There were duties required of the both of them, with a life of service as a representative of both the United Kingdom and a family known around the world. But Eliza could handle it. He knew the world would adore her just as much as he did. “Eliza, my family and I are the ones who aren’t worthy. You’re going to be the perfect princess…and we’re going to be the favorites in the family. Screw Henry and Sarah.” Laughing, George didn’t have be told twice Eliza’s enticing suggestion, his eyes taking on a mischievous glint as he slowly backed her toward the bookcase behind her. “What exactly do I deserve?” As he slowly guided her backwards the prince dipped his head down, pressing a slow kiss to the skin of her neck while both hands dropped to her waist. “Can’t I get a taste of it right now? I’d say I deserve that much.” Eliza saying ‘yes’ was enough but what could he say? He was curious. He grinned as she questioned the price of the ring, looking back up to silence her with a kiss. “You’re worth every pound. You’re priceless.”

         Eliza only hoped he knew how much he meant to her -- through her words, her actions, her diary entries she’s decided now to share with him daily since she knew he’d want to read and she also knew her mind was almost elusive sometimes, her thoughts not always making it to her lips, but definitely making it to the ink of her pen as she wrote them. But she knew with being with him, anything she wanted, he’d give her. He’d said as much may times, but Eliza, she couldn’t and wouldn’t ask anything of him, not unless it meant a lot to her, but even then -- she hadn’t said in so many words she wanted to be with her family after all, the circumstances were different, but he still got it, and Eliza knew he’d ask her about anything else other than surprises. However there was one thought that came to mind as he replied about a royal wedding. “Well, then, I have one request. At least now,” she breathed. “I want to get married here, in Paris, it suddenly means a whole lot to me,” she teased, meaning it was all for the engagement, obviously. “Perhaps you can pull those royal strings and we could even marry in Notre Dame. Wouldn’t that be beautiful?” Like a painting.

His words hadn’t been memorized or rehearsed. He hadn’t gone into much of a plan other than what he had managed to pull off: the dinner, the books, his own version of their story printed and bound for her to read when she got the chance. No, every last word was the truth, coming from his heart that belonged to Eliza. Ever since he had met her his heart had only beat for her, just as it would until he took his dying breath. Since the moment they had met it had truly been a whirlwind romance, one that he himself had thought only existed in fairytales. The royalty of reality wasn’t anything like those stories painted it. George had always believed true love was never in the cards for him, that he would be forced to marry whoever his family chose. Instead he found the kind of love he thought impossible yet the one he had always wanted. Even when he was younger, moving aimlessly from woman to woman knowing that none of them would ever appease his family, that there was no point in trying. His entire life had been leading up this new chapter, and it would be the best one yet.

With his heart hammering so loud in his ears he nearly didn’t hear her ‘yes’ but it was possibly the greatest sound in the world. Staring up at Eliza, the tears streaming down her face and the smile on her face as she told him she loved him, that she wanted to marry him. George would never forget that moment for as long as he lived. The prince beamed from ear-to-ear, feeling tears of his own starting to prick at his eyes as he quickly stood and pulled Eliza into a warm embrace. “I love you,” he murmured against her lips as he kissed her with everything he was worth, muttering the words over and over again between kisses. The only thing that could possibly pull him from her lips as the box in his hands, George unable to keep himself from gently taking her left hand in his so he could slip the ring onto her finger. It looked perfect, like it was made for her. He couldn’t wait until he could call her Mrs. Cromwell. Both hands were on either side of her face as he rested his forehead against hers, gently wiping the tears from her cheeks. “I love you, Eliza. I can’t wait to marry you.”

         Everything she had ever been through led to this night and for this moment, and for the duration of their relationship, it was suddenly worth it -- worth the pain, worth the heartbreak, because here was someone who would never hurt her, here was someone who wanted her by her side and felt her worthy to do so even in making her royal. It wasn’t something she thought about often, she knew of course she’d be one in marrying him, but it likely won’t hit her until people address her as such: Princess Eliza. Wow. ‘Til then she was stuck on how this happened, how he had done it so perfectly, had this wonderful walk down memory lane but of the biggest gesture to her, wrote her in his story, wrote her in their story. Wrote her. No one, not a single person had ever done it before, and it was all she ever wanted, to mean so much to someone that she became a part of their story in ink on pages. Permanent. With the way he beamed, she laughed softly, but it was in happiness as her own smile matched his and he stood up to pull her into him. It was the barrage of kisses she had wanted and she received them, after one heart stopping, toe curling kiss that would linger in every other one as he continued to tell her he loved her over and over with every kiss. Eliza couldn’t think of a time she was so happy, but here this was and here were the tear stains on her cheeks to prove it as he pulled back and took care of the ring, her nose sniffling as he slid it up her left ring finger. God, it was gorgeous. Huge. And gorgeous. It was perfect, just like him.

The closer they came to the end of their trip down memory lane the more relaxed George became, oddly enough. His bundle of nerves had seemed to fly away altogether as he saw for himself how Eliza seemed to enjoy what they were doing. He had the feeling that she had yet to suspect just the reason why they were doing this but she would figure it out soon enough; Romeo and Juliet was the last book to find before he guided her directly toward the next. “No matter how long it took it was only a matter of time before we both gave in,” he mused, smiling gently to himself as he watched Eliza pluck Romeo and Juliet from the walls. “You’re capable of anything. I have full confidence you’d be able to deliver a speech like that and make it ten times better than I ever could.” Speeches were the bane of his existence but it came with princely duties. It came with princess duties as well, which Eliza would discover if she agreed to marry him. “I don’t remember Romeo pounding Juliet into the bed but it has been some time since I’ve read it,” George quipped, pressing a quick kiss to Eliza’s head as she continued on. They had both been on the same wavelength that day, or rather every day since they had met. Honestly he didn’t know he had gotten so lucky as to meet the woman he was meant to be with and have the chance to propose spending the rest of his life with her. “I think you chose the perfect scene. Kissing you that day was one of the greatest things to ever happen to me.” 

Unable to take the suspense any longer (and the box in his pocket burning a hole right through) George gently took Eliza by the hand, giving her a squeeze as he nodded towards a room the path of books cut into. “Memory lane continues through there.” With each step he took his heart seemed to pound a beat faster, knowing that each step was one closer to the question that had been right on the tip of his tongue the entire night. It was like his entire life had been leading up to this moment. Guiding her inside of the room the two of them were suddenly surrounded by roses and candles, strategically placed among the books. For a moment they were in a word of their own, just the two of them, surrounding by the things that they both loved. “There’s another book I want to show you.” Letting go of Eliza’s hand and allowing her to take in the moment George found one particular book and slid it off the shelf. “It’s unpublished, still being written.” He turned back to the woman he loved, gently holding the book out for her to take. “I’ll give you a summary.”

It had taken him quite some time to pull off what he handed her: a “book” he had written himself, only partly finished; the blank pages would be their next chapter. He had started two months ago, once he had realized that his story would always revolve around her. “It’s your boy meet girl story, though one more suited to fairytales or storybooks. The one where the beautiful girl meets a dashing prince but doesn’t discover who he truly is until he makes a grand gesture. But this one’s different from the others. The girl was beautiful but she was so much more than that. She had nerve, strong convictions. A past that had hurt her and made her hesitant to open herself up, fearing that she’d only be hurt again if she tried. The man promised her that he would never hurt her, that they could take things slow and just be friends. But of course they never were just friends. They were destined to be more, as the prince had loved her from the very moment he laid eyes on her.” The deep affection and love in his voice, in his eyes, the way his hands gently cupped Eliza’s face as he took a step forward. There would be no doubt just how he felt about her. How he would always feel about her. “What’s a prince without a princess?”

“Eliza…” His thumb lightly brushed along the skin of her cheek, watching her lovingly as the light from the candle flickered on her beautiful face. It was now or never. “I love you. I love you more than words or a book could possibly say. From the moment I had met you, when you spilled beer all over my favorite shirt, I knew that you were meant to be in my life. I knew our lives were meant to intersect despite our different backgrounds and against all odds but I didn’t know how. Now I do.” Slowly his hands fell to his sides and George took a step back. Without taking his eyes off of her he slowly dropped to one knee, his fingers finding the small red box in his pocket. “You are the most incredible, beautiful, talented, amazing woman I have ever or will ever know. I was never truly happy before I met you. I was just moving through life without a purpose or a plan, following my family’s instructions and dreading that their plans for me would confine me to a boring and colorless life. Something was missing, someone, and that was you. You made my world everything I had ever wanted because I was finally able to share it with someone who I loved and loved me in return. You made me the happiest man in the world when you agreed to be mine and I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that you will be mine for the rest of our lives. The story of our love is only beginning, and there is nothing more I want than to be able to give you your happily ever after.” Without hesitation George opened the lid to the box, revealing the glittering diamond ring inside. The smile on his face was nervous but contagious as he awaited her answer. “Eliza Rose Dawson…Will you marry me?”

         There was a smile, a flicker of her eyes that acknowledged what he was saying as she stood upon her toes, heels up, reaching for Romeo and Juliet when she saw it. Though that smile changed with a laugh and a shake of her head as he pointed out Romeo not pounding Juliet into the bed, that hadn’t been what she meant, but she knew he was joking to make her laugh and that’s just what she did as she turned back toward him with the grab of her hand, then walked beside him. “I think, it’s second only to meeting you. Since meeting you was the beginning, but that kiss, even if it was because of the tension that could also be called such, was the catalyst. I mean, we almost had sex in that photo booth -- imagine the headlines,” she laughed. “I don’t think they’d be painting me in such a kind light if they’d caught us being reckless. But I also don’t care what they would have thought -- even if your father would question me. Though I think this all would have turned everything around anyway, you have to admit. We’re kind of perfect and that’s without their knowledge of our healthy sex lives,” Eliza grinned. “Speaking of which you are completely earning brownie points with all of this. You might have a whole week to cash in.” Her nose crinkled, but she looked up at him cutely with that and it was a teasing, adorable gesture. Absolutely not one of disgust. She’d never be with him.