#dominic windsor

[myfandomistingling]

Charles: "Mummy will you be coming to Camilla's 50th birthday party?"

Queen Elizabeth II: "NO, that sounds truly awful!"

[ifreakingloveroyals]

8 May 2019 | Prince Harry, Duke of Sussex and Meghan, Duchess of Sussex, pose with their newborn son Archie Harrison Mountbatten-Windsor during a photocall in St George's Hall at Windsor Castle in Windsor, England. The Duchess of Sussex gave birth at 05:26 on Monday 06 May, 2019. (c) Dominic Lipinski - WPA Pool/Getty Images

[apricusnights]

Nothing is lost forever.

Location: Somewhere deep below Delta Town.

Getting past the tunnels was one thing, getting past the vast network of sewers was another, but winding your way through a seemingly endless amount of caverns that often led to dead ends or right back to where you started? That was something all on it's own.

People had spent lifetimes looking for hints of the so called Underground Cathedral. Just one of many buildings that were said to be constructed by the empire in it's dying days. Designed to hide treasures, manuscripts, artifacts, who knows what else.

There was always a small amount of proof it existed, always something pointing to it's construction. Unfortunately it was hardly anything to go on. Sometimes people would stumble upon similar safehouses but never exactly what they were searching for. The church itself had mounted several expeditions over the years. More recently evidence of the cathedral's location was found by a group of Templars.

The cavern was gigantic, clearly it wasn't entirely man-made. There were several buildings lining both sides of what could be called a street. A small river of sorts flowed through the middle of the cavern. Every now and then old abandoned tunneling equipment could be found.

Generators were hooked up to the buildings but had long since ran out of fuel. Most of the buildings were likely places the workers, and soldiers had stayed during the construction. Perhaps something worth looking into but not the true prize. No, that lay at the very end of the cavern.

The cathedral in all it's glory. Somehow as pristine as the day it was constructed. Two figures wearing masks, and hooded cloaks approached the gigantic wooden doors. Both lit one of the torches on each side before attempting to push the doors open.

"The doors are stuck..."

"You expected it just to be completely unlocked?"

"Nobody has been down here in ages, why would it be locked. Why would you lock something that no one was intended to find? Forget it, I'll just bust it open."

"Stop it. We're not supposed to leave any trace of anyone being here. You can't just break the door down. Stay here.."

Lilith made her way up one of the cathedral walls, finding an entrance through a small section of the roof that had given way. After a moment she pushed one of the doors open just enough for Morrigan to enter.

"Fascinating.." Making his way in after Lilith, and Morrigan. "Think of the knowledge contained in this building alone.."

"Remember the deal Doc. You're allowed to look at any of the books you want, scan everything if it makes you happy..BUT you're not allowed to take anything with you. It all stays here."

"But with that out of the way, I gotta ask. What is so interesting to you down here? Isn't most of this religious stuff? Holy this and sacred that? Why do you care?"

"You'd be surprised what the empire considered holy. For instance the entire chimera project was meant to be a divine solution. Sanctioned by the bishop to wash away the sinners who opposed them. The sinners being the revolution of course.."

Motioning at a few specific books she'd located amongst the piles of them scattered around.

"Ah, if you'll excuse me, I believe my companion may have found something of interest."

"Here.." She'd been wandering the cathedral as if looking for any small discrepancies in the walls. Eventually finding a way to open a hidden passage that revealed a spiral staircase.

Another cloaked individual made their way past her, holding a torch as they descended the staircase.

At the bottom was a long obviously trapped hallway but the individual seemed to have no issue navigating it, nor did the giant puzzle lock on the stone slab functioning as a door pose them any problem.

The slab slid out of the way. Behind it was a small room filled with all sorts of relics. In the middle there was a skeleton dressed in ceremonial robes. The last bishop of the empire.

The cloaked individual made their way over, running their hand across the stone sarcophagus sitting in front of the bishop. With a few presses of some hidden buttons it slid open.

Inside was one item. An ornate golden staff...

The individual pulled the hood of their cloak down before bringing their aShine up.

"It's here.."

[ddejavvu]

hotch loosening his tie and undoing a few buttons to eat you out on his desk at the office, having to take his tie completely off and push it into your mouth to keep you quiet 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

this post is 18+, minors dni.

"Jesus Christ." Is your lover's careful assessment of the mess between your thighs, glistening as it clings to your skin and covers an expanse that reaches far beyond the lacy hem of your now-ruined panties.

He inspects you for a moment, runs a thick thumb through the slick steadily streaming from your weepy cunt, and smears it lower over your thigh instead of licking his finger clean.

"I need to take off my tie," He muses, fingers flying to the windsor knot to loosen it, "You're already such a mess that it would be stained the second I started."

"Can I have it?" You whine, craning your neck to stare down at him where he's kneeling between your legs. The chilled oak of his desk bites against your bare skin, but you're slowly warming it with the fever of desire you find yourself in. You reach for the tie, pleading, and Aaron sets it in your trembling fingers.

"Oh god, it- it smells like your cologne," You realize, breath shaky as you smother the silken fabric against your face, breathing in the scent of Aaron where it clings so potently to the fabric, "Hurry, Aaron, please-?"

Your hips writhe slightly as you squirm atop his desk, but his hand never comes to hold your waist in place.

"I have to unbutton my shirt, too." He murmurs, and you hear the rustling of fabric that lets you know he's already two buttons in, "Are you trying to stain all of my clothes, honey?"

You whimper softly against the fabric of his tie, and finally- finally one of his rough hands glides up your leg, starting at the ankle and ending near your throbbing core.

"You are? You want me to walk back out there with a dirty tie? That's bold." He assesses, "Our coworkers are profilers. It would take them, oh-" He smears his thumb close- this close to your slickened mess of a cunt, and your thighs shudder like a sob, "Ten seconds to figure out I'd just been on my knees between your legs. Is that what you're going for? You want everyone to know you're spread-eagle over my desk?"

"Aaron," You plead, desperate and pathetic, "Please?" You crane your neck down to watch him once more, and he's the picture of sin, thighs strained against his slacks, cock pressing even tighter against their fabric. There's three buttons undone on his shirt which reveal a mass of dark, wiry hair and which prevent the collar from being soaked in your pre-release. There's contentment and something dark, something sadistic and sinister in his eyes as he kneels before you, unquestionably dominant despite the position he's in.

"You're good at begging." He observes, his voice calm and collected, "And at making a mess. I'd tease you more, but if you get any wetter, I'd have to strip completely to avoid getting dirty. And we don't have much time before the team realizes that there's two agents missing and only one locked door. So lift up your hips, honey- there we go," He pats at your thigh and slips his hands beneath your hips when you lift them, elevating your core before he buries his face in it, "And try not to make too much noise- bite down on that tie whenever you have to scream."

[omtai]

thinking once again about the pussybow in which gerard tied their tie for the skirtsuit character. they could have so easily just done a windsor knot and that’s that. but it was a deliberate choice to tie it as a pussybow; it’s feminising, it’s softening— originally they were associated with the bows tied on kittens, giving it its name. but as women started to join the workforce (specifically the office which was of course a male-dominated field) it grew to be a form of defiance, a breaking of rules and dress codes.

in relation to ms. skirtsuit it really adds to the theory that while she is complicit and undeniably fascistic since she works under the dictator, there is a good chance she will be insubordinate and, like the pussybow, defiant to his rules. we’ve already seen how she finds herself exempt from His Grand Immortality— the way she didn’t get up to stand and wait as he entered the room the way mr. carnation and the politician did, the way she didn’t even turn to look when the opera singer sang. What i’m trying to say is as the story progresses I wouldn’t be surprised to see her end up as a sort of anti-hero. definitely not a good person, but works against the flow of the death machine.

[roanofarcc]

REFLECTIONS. THE RISE AND FALL OF CAMP HALF BLOOD’S ORGINAL GOLDEN TRIO

“we were too close to the stars…”

LUKE CASTELLAN. son of hermes, the traitor.

theme, OUTRUNNING KARMA by ALEC BENJAMIN. Outrunning karma, that boy | can’t run no farther, it’s the | last days of sparta, follow | him down to meet apollo | then he’ll brace for battle in the night | he’ll fight because he knows he cannot hide

HELENA WINDSOR. daughter of aphrodite, the burned.

theme, THE HISTORY OF MAN by MAISIE PETERS. he stole her youth and promised heaven | the men start wars yet troy hates helen | women’s hearts are lethal weapons | did you hold mine and feel threatened?

DOMINIC FAIRBANKS. son of demeter, the cursed.

theme, FRANCESCA by HOZIER I’d tell them, “put me back in it” | darling, I would do it again | if I could hold you for a minute | darling, I’d go through it again

•••

bound together by a twisted, invisible string, three demi-gods cannot escape their intertwined fate. A heart must break, a hero must fall from grace, and a curse must ruin them all…

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

Hi RTA 👋🏻 I don't know if you answer this kind of asks, sorry, and it's okay if you don't but I was just thinking that if Rachel has done sooo much research on Harold and Charles, she definitely would've done even more research on William especially his famous Windsor temper by the looks that she gave him. Narcs love to trigger anger in strong men, they think it's powerful and even sensual and seize that weakness or moment to overpower this type of men to their advantages. What do you think?

I don't think Meghan did that kind of research. I mean, she certainly could have, but everything people have said and observed about her is that her sole focus was Diana. Diana's popularity, Diana's make-up, Diana's clothes, Diana's mannerisms, Diana's relationships, Diana's work, Diana's family, Diana's problems, etc.

I'm also not sure that Meghan provoked William to anger because she liked the power imbalance. She likes to provoke Harry to anger because of that power/sensuality/weakness - and Harry essentially confirms this in Spare, when he wrote about the a time he got angry, Meghan gave him silent treatment, and he went begging for forgiveness. On the surface it's a story about how Harry's anger being explosive and traumatic but dig deeper into it, you also see Meghan's manipulation of Harry through his anger and the power she gets off on.

For Meghan to control and manipulate Harry to get what she wanted out of the marriage/BRF/UK, she needed to break the bond Harry had with William (and Kate) because William was the only person who could stop her plan for Diana-like world domination. That's where she used Harry's anger, and specifically to provoke William's anger, after which she would turn around and cry to Harry about how scared or upsetting it was to be around William when he was angry.

I mean, you want to talk about someone who weaponized her tears, Meghan is the picture definition of it.

I think you're on the right track, just with the wrong brother. 😀

[the-last-tsar]

"The death of her mother at thirty-five, had a shattering effect on six-year-old Alix. She sat quiet and withdrawn in her playroom while her nurse stood in the corner, weeping. Even the toys she handled were new; the old, familiar toys had been burned as a precaution against the disease. Alix had been a merry, generous, warm little girl, obstinate but sensitive, with a hot temper. After this tragedy she began to seal herself off from other people. A hard shell of aloofness formed over her emotions, and her radiant smile appeared infrequently. Craving intimacy and affection, she held herself back. She grew to dislike unfamiliar places and to avoid unfamiliar people. Only in cozy family gatherings where she could count on warmth and understanding did Alix unwind. There, the shy, serious, cool Princess Alix became once again the merry, dimpled, loving "Sunny" of her early childhood. After her daughter's death, Queen Victoria treated Grand Duke Louis as her own son and invited him often to England with his motherless children. Alix, now the youngest, was the aging Queen's special favorite and Victoria kept a close watch on her little grand-child. Tutors and governesses in Darmstadt were required to send special reports to Windsor and receive, in return, a steady flow of advice and instruction from the Queen. Under this tutelage, Alix's standards of taste and morality became thoroughly English and thoroughly Victorian. The future Empress of Russia developed steadily into that most recognizable and respectable of creatures, a proper young English gentlewoman. Alix was an excellent student. By the time she was fifteen, she was thoroughly grounded in history, geography and English and German literature. She played the piano with a skill approaching brilliance, but she disliked playing in front of people. When Queen Victoria asked her to play for guests at Windsor, Alix obliged, but her reddened face betrayed her torment unlike Nicholas, who learned by rote, Alix loved to discuss abstract ideas. One of her tutors, an Englishwoman named Margaret Jackson — "Madgie" to Princess Alix — was interested in politics. Miss Jackson passed her fascination along to Alix, who grew up believing that politics was a subject not necessarily restricted to men. Alix's grandmother, after all, was a woman and still managed to be the dominant monarch in Europe."

Nicholas and Alexandra | Robert K. Massie

[absurdthirst]

Crossing Enemy Lines {Max Phillips x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 10.1k

Warnings: Insults, vampirism, mentions of blood drinking, oral sex (male and female receiving), rough sex, crude humor, Max being Max, angst.

Comments: Competitors and enemies? You are both not the other's favorite person but for some reason, hate sex is great sex.

Co-written @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| MasterList || Max Phillips MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

Max adjusts his tie as he strides into the conference. A new annual event for vampires who are in business. As the branch manager, he received his invitation to the conference last month and he’s been excited to dominate the scene. Especially after he heard you’d be coming too. Grabbing his badge, Max makes his way into the welcome event and that’s when he sees you. Red dress, professional yet just the right amount of tight to be sexy, and he smirks as he makes his way over to you. “Fancy seeing you here, sweetheart.” Max winks at you as he strides over to you. 

“Phillips.” You greet him coolly, “I’m surprised you’re here. I thought they had a separate conference for subpar regional branch managers who always fail to meet their quarterly quota.” You smirk, eying Max in his red tie and what he claims is a bespoke suit.

His smile falters for a split second before it’s back, more powerful than before and the sharpness in his eyes focuses on you. “I was surprised that you were invited too, sweetheart.” He reaches up and tightens the full windsor knot of his Hermès tie. The gold thumb ring and Rolex match the tie clasp, all coordinated with the cufflinks that wink at his wrists. Dramatic, but Max likes to dress for the job he wants, not the job he has. “I’m sure you’ll get those numbers up.” 

“Is that what your credit card companies ask for when you’re late on the minimum payment?” You retort, noticing what he is so desperate to show off about. “Oh honey, you’ll pay them off. You just need some more sales…oh wait…I’m not going to allow you to encroach on my clients. You’ll just have to tell those credit cards you can’t pay for those fancy cufflinks.” You click your tongue, reaching out to adjust his tie to just a hair off of being perfect.

Max hisses slightly, annoyed that you had messed with the lines of his tie. “Is that what you believe?” He bats your hand away, lifting a brow as he fixes the tie again and reaches out to flick his finger under your ear lobe. “The Moissanite is nice, but it doesn’t have the sparkle of a real diamond.” He chuckles. “I understand though. If I lost the Phalicite contract to another firm, I wouldn’t be splurging either. Oh right….I was that firm.” He boasts quietly. “What was it they said? She just couldn’t get it done?” He tuts, giving you a disappointed look before he gives a small shrug. “They are happy now.”

You bite down the growl that tries to escape from his jab. It pained you to lose that contract and you shake your head, letting out an unamused chuckle. “You might’ve won the battle, big shot, but I will win the war.” You pat his chest, “now it’s time to network big boy. May the best woman win.” You wink, striding off to meet the CEO of that company you’ve been trying to close for months.

Max watches you walk away, his eyes firmly glued to your ass. You are a pain in the ass, but you have a fantastic one, so he lets you get away with more than someone else could. Deciding that it’s war, he plasters on his most charming persona and starts working the room, eager to one up you on connections and leads for new business. You are competition and he loves a challenge.

By the time you’re done charming the hell out of most of the big wigs in the room, a lot of them spent far too long eying your cleavage. You lean against the bar, desperate for a drink. Thank God you can still get drunk from alcohol. Even if it takes more, you still get the effects. You gesture for the bartender to come over and order yourself a gin martini. “Two olives.” You add and the bartender gives you an odd look but goes ahead to pour your drink. When you have the drink, you take a much needed sip until his voice invades your ears again. 

“Olives? What you gonna do? Eat them?” Max snorts, gesturing for the bartender to come over. He orders a whiskey on the rocks and you turn to look at him. 

“I like the aesthetic.” You explain with a brief shrug.

“Aesthetic.” Max scoffs and shakes his head. “Why pretend to be human when we are so much better?” He asks, tapping his finger on the bar as he waits for his drink. “Name one thing that a human is better at, I’ll wait.”

“Sex.” You answer Max and he chuckles, thinking you’re joking. 

“Seriously? Why the fuck would you think that? They have to breathe, they need breaks. They can’t keep going all night long.” 

You snort, “exactly. Humans have enthusiasm. They have passion. It’s not perfect, it can be sloppy, but any human lover I’ve had has been one hundred percent into fucking me. Vampires are cold, emotionless. It’s just an act, physical pleasure. There’s no emotion behind it, not even lust really. We are heartless machines and that - the lack of compassion - makes us great in sales and boring in bed.”

Max snorts, sending you a pitying look. “Just because you choose bad lovers doesn’t mean that vampires as a whole are bad in bed.” Smirking he points at himself. “Take me for example, by the time I’m done, you will be as exhausted as a vampire can get, begging for a break from the orgasms and pleasure. Humans don’t stand a chance.” He boasts.

You roll your eyes after taking a sip of your drink. “Sure Phillips. Is that what they tell you? After you buy them the Louis Vuitton purse you can’t afford?” You snort, “I highly doubt you have someone begging for a break. Maybe a break from you, not your cock.”

Max is cocky, maybe a little too much sometimes but he knows how to fuck. He ignores the little insult towards his finances, he’s well aware of his bank balance and smirks as he leans in. “Only one way to find out, sweet cheeks.” He challenges. “I could give you testimonies from past lovers, or I could just let you experience Maxie boy for yourself.”

You roll your eyes, “you called my pussy the arctic circle and said that any man who dares to venture into it would surely freeze to death. So, you got some mittens?” You smirk, deciding to mess with him. “Or perhaps you can borrow some fuzzy socks from one of your pals over there.” You gesture to the group of vampires who are just like Max: egotistical and beyond cocky. You lean closer to Max, grabbing his tie to bring him closer and you brush your lips against his ear, “or you can go fuck yourself.” You smirk, leaning back to grab your drink, you down it and order another one from the bartender.

Max grunts, unable to believe that you just made his cock twitch with the breathless way you had told him to go fuck himself. He’s always like ballsy women and despite the professional rivalry, you are just his type. “If you can’t handle the idea of having a real man fuck you, that’s all you have to say, sweetheart.” Max coos, reaching out and sliding his index finger down your arm. “Stick with the blood bags who can’t bury their face in the Arctic circle until it’s hotter than a furnace without coming up for air. No skin off my teeth.”

You raise an eyebrow as he orders another whiskey. You glance around the bush room, the endless chatter almost melding into one noise. “I want to know something.” You announce after the bartender sets your drinks down. 

“Shoot.” Max says before sipping his double whiskey. 

“Why do you want to fuck me? I thought we hated each other?” You lean against the bar, showing him more of your cleavage. 

Max snorts, “hate fucking can be the best sex ever.” He admits with a shrug and your heart sinks a little that he actually does hate you so much despite you just doing your job. 

Yes, you’ve goaded him but to hear it confirmed, it takes you back for a moment. “Here’s a proposal-” 

Max interrupts you, “oh I didn’t say marriage-” 

You roll your eyes again, “an offer.” You amend and he hums, “if you still want to fuck me by the end of this event, come to my room…1012. If you still want to fuck me, you can come to mine and I want you to spend the entire night making me cum. If you can’t do that, don’t come. If you don’t want that, I understand. Now, there’s the CEO for HP. I think we have a deal in the works. Thanks for the drinks, Phillips.” You wink and stride off, leaving him with the tab.

It’s fucking hard to concentrate on business for the rest of the night. To socialize and pretend he’s not discreetly checking his Rolex and glancing around the ball room to see where you are in proximity to him. Even the cute little redheaded human who flirts with him doesn’t capture his interest, and he always likes the taste of redheads - very mellow. The idea of fucking the attitude and sarcasm out of you is almost as intoxicating at the four other whiskeys he drinks. Another plus of being the undead is that he doesn’t have to worry about alcohol affecting his performance in bed. When the clock strikes midnight, the official ending time for the event, Max looks around to see that you’ve disappeared. Making him smirk as he tosses back the rest of his whiskey and make his apologies before he leaves, foregoing the elevator and speeding up the stairs to the tenth floor. Pausing outside of room 1012 to adjust his hair and straighten his tie before he knocks.

You check your hair in the mirror, freaking out a little despite the drinks you’ve had. It’s hard to believe that Max Phillips is about to fuck you but you don’t try to think too much about what happens tomorrow morning when you open the door to Max Phillips, naked and waiting for his reaction. There was no point staying dressed. This saves time and as a manager, you’re all about time management. “You ready?” You ask him, chuckling at the dumbstruck look on his face.

“Jesus sweetheart.” Max manages after he stops staring. He sweeps into the room, “if you were that eager, we should have done this a long time ago.” He reaches down and unbuttons the jacket of his suit and shrugs it off to drape over a chair. He smirks and grabs your waist to step close to you. “Now, do I make you scream my name on my cock or my tongue first?”

“Eager? You wish, Phillips. I’m just efficient. Take your clothes off too. Wanna see if your ego is backed up by what you’re packing.” You reach for his tie, pulling him closer so you can press your lips to his while his hands dig into your waist.

His cock twitches, already hardening just at the sight of you and he knows he won’t disappoint you size wise. His tongue slides into your mouth and he groans when you bite it before soothing it slightly. “Dirty girl.” He hisses, smirking happily when one hand slides up to squeeze your breast harshly and pinch your nipple, pulling down on it. “You want a striptease and denied me the same show.”

“I didn’t say I wanted a striptease, Phillips.” You chuckle, working on pulling off that ridiculously expensive tie. “I just wanted to surprise you.” You admit, moaning when he kisses along your neck while you work on unbuttoning his shirt.

“I was surprised.” Max pants, pinching your nipple again and biting down on your shoulder as he slides his hand down to grab your ass. His cock is tenting his suit trousers and he pushes it up against your hip. “Very happily surprised. You’d get a shit ton more sales if you just worked naked.”

You chuckle dryly, “I want to get sales based on my skills, not my tits. Otherwise I’d be like those girls from Chimtech. Just sleeping their way up the ladder. I’m not like that.” You tell him truthfully, reaching down to undo his cufflinks, tossing them onto the coffee table with accuracy, and you push his shirt off of his shoulders.

Max knows that. You are one of the few that he’s hadn’t seen at any of the clubs or honorable mentions at the orgies. It was one of the things that had caught his attention with you. He unbuttons his trousers and grins at you. “Ready?”

You roll your eyes and step away from him to sit on the bed, giving him an expectant look as he pulls down the zipper, opening his pants and shoving them down along with his designer boxers. You swallow harshly at the sight of his hard cock, thick and fucking gorgeous. No wonder he’s such a cocky motherfucker. “Fuck me.” You blurt out, surprised by the monster he has in his pants.

Max’s brow twitches and he sends you a cocky smirk. “Oh I’m going to sweetheart.” He promises as he kicks his pants off and bends down to peel his socks off to fling aside. His cock bobs heavily and he stands straight and wraps his hand around it to stroke. “Spread your legs, baby. I want to see the Arctic circle before I visit.”

You roll your eyes against his words, “you’re an asshole.” Yet you follow his order, shifting to sit back against the pillows and you slowly, with a smirk, spread your legs to display your cunt to his hungry gaze. You tease, caressing your thighs, “you gonna keep me waiting, Phillips?”

“Fuck, you have a pretty cunt.” Max groans, squeezing himself lightly before he lets go. “Bet you taste good.” His mouth waters at the idea and his fangs start to descend before he catches himself. He knows he wouldn’t want fangs against his cock so he wouldn’t do that to a lover. He stalks over to the bed and pushes you back before he drops to his knees, smirking and winking at you before he dives in. 

You gasp when his tongue slides between your folds and you reach down to tangle your fingers in his hair. “Oh you son of a bitch.” You hiss when he flicks his tongue expertly over your clit. You can’t believe how good he is already. He has already worked you up more than most lovers can during an entire night and the bastard has done it within thirty seconds.

Max chuckles into your cunt but he doesn’t stop. He eats you voraciously. Like you are the best goddamn thing that he’s ever tasted and if he pulls away your cunt would disappear. There’s nothing polite about it. No gentle licks or soulless sucks on your clit. It’s sloppy, messy and fucking pure Heaven for him. Loving the sounds you make while he repeatedly curls his tongue up inside your walls, shakes his head so his squashed nose stimulates your clit. He loves not having to breathe to eat a woman out, loves that his jaw doesn’t ache or get tired. He could do it all night if he needed to, even as his cock leaks onto his thighs as he wears your legs as a scarf.

You can’t even speak, your mouth falling open and fangs threatening to poke through as Max rocks your world. Your thighs press against his cheeks, suffocating him and you would’ve killed a human by now but Max isn’t human and he doesn’t need to breathe. His tongue is curled so deep and combined with that aquiline nose, you are close to your orgasm. “Oh fuck!” You squeal when you squeeze your tits, the added stimulation sending you over the edge and you curse Max for being so fucking good at that.

Max growls into you, licking and sucking up your release and working you through the orgasm before his tongue turns softer. Gently fluttering against your clit before he kisses it and gives you a self-satisfied smirk. “That was one, sweetheart.” He coos. “Ready for another or do you want to experience the ‘main event’?”

You can’t even offer him a smart retort as you recover from the way his tongue made you cum harder than you have in years. “Shit Max. The amount of bullshit that comes out of your mouth and yet it can do that. Fuck. I- main event? You are done already?” You tease, reaching down to rub your over sensitive clit.

Max snorts, aware that you are goading him but he’s going to make you eat your words. Smirking, he uses his inhuman strength to easily flip you into your stomach and yanks your hips up. Burying his face back into your cunt from behind. 

Your cry echoes off of the wall and you nearly rip the sheets as your fingers curl into them while Max’s tongue slides back into your sensitive cunt. “Oh fuck baby.” You gasp out, falling forward onto your forearms and arching your back as his nose presses against your puckered hole. You whimper when his fingers slide under you to rub your clit. “Max. Oh God, right there. Fuck. Yes. There.” You moan when his fingers curl and he finds that spot that makes your thighs shake. “That - that’s it baby. That’s it. Right there.” You whine until it turns into a loud moan as you cum for the second time, gushing over his tongue and chin.

He hums, keeping his tongue and fingers moving as your hips rock back in his face. He loves that you are chasing your pleasure and aren’t shy about giving orders. Max might be the boss, a powerhouse at work; but he doesn’t mind taking direction when it means that he will make you scream out his name. Something that will happen before tonight is over. When your thighs stop shaking, Max chuckles and slides his tongue up to circle the other little hole that has captured his attention with all its fluttering and begging for attention.

You gasp when his tongue presses against your puckered hole. “Fuck Max.” You rasp, voice growing hoarse from the moans that have rattled the room. “Get inside of me. Now.” You demand, reaching behind you to tug on his hair, now messy and out of its usual style.

He flicks his tongue against your hole one last time before he moves over and bites your cheek playfully. “What hole do you want me in first?” He teases, sliding his fingers up and down between both. “I think I want the Arctic circle first.” The slap of his hand against your ass is harsh in the room and he chuckles when you moan.

You can’t even bring yourself to roll your eyes as he grips his cock and teases your clit with the head. “Is this how long you take to close all your sales, Phillips?” You taunt, grinding back against him. When he just chuckles and notches his cock at your entrance, pushing into you in one thrust, your clever remark is long forgotten as his cock pushes into you and stretches you out.

“Fuuuuuck.” Max hisses, slapping your ass again as he circles his hips and grinds into you. You feel incredible and he would stay right here for an hour, just feeling your walls pulse around him but then you would complain. Instead, he wrap his arm around your sternum and drags you up before he drops his hips and starts fucking you like a madman.

You pant, gripping his forearm and you don't pull it away as you let him choke you. It's a good thing you don't need to breathe. "Fuck baby. It's-" You moan, leaning back against him as he hammers into you. His hips hitting your ass as he fucks you hard and fast.

Max hums, loving how you are taking his cock. “It’s what? Wonderful? The best you’ve ever had?” He drags his nose up your neck, pressing where he would have felt your pulse if you had one but there is nothing. “I know. I know it’s good baby, this pussy feels amazing. Taking me like this. Letting me fuck you hard…and now even harder.” He ramps up his thrusts to a pace that would kill a human without breaking a sweat or panting. 

The bed squeaks beneath you due to the sheer force of Max's thrusts and he takes your useless breath away. "O-o-h-m-y-G-o-d." You sound out each syllable as he fucks you harder than anyone you've ever had. Your pussy feels like it's being pounded in your guts and you can only let him use your cunt like this. "Maaaax!" You wail as he hammers against something magnificent inside of you.

“There it is.” He hisses, grinning into your neck and nipping your skin playfully. “That’s what I want to hear. Except - louder sweetheart. Gotta let the front desk know who’s fucking you.” The hand not pinning you to him gropes your breast and then slides down to slap your clit. 

His fingers hitting your clit makes you nearly fold over but his grip on your throat keeps you upright. Max has all the control right now but you aren’t mad about it. You kind of love it, the lack of decisions so unlike your work life. This is nothing but pleasure and you love it. “Oh fuck.” You gasp, turning your head as much as you can to try to find his lips.

Max knows what you want and he doesn’t deny you. His cock continues to shred up into your throbbing cunt with devastating accuracy against your g-spot and he slides his tongue into your mouth. Kissing you roughly while the quick slaps of his hips against your ass fill the room. Grinning against your lips when he slaps your pussy again.

You moan into his mouth, unable to help yourself, and when Max grins against your lips, you cry out and clamp down on his cock. Hard. Gripping him in a vice as your thighs shake and your cum soaks his cock. It’s the most violent orgasm you’ve ever had wrack your body and it’s caused by the man you hate.

Max groans out your name, loving how you are soaking him and the bed beneath you. The way you squeeze his cock has him caught up in your walls where he can barely move, grinding up into you while he seeks his own pleasure. Giving a rough half dozen thrusts before he groans again, filling you with a hot flood of his useless seed.

You pant against his mouth, just breathing him in as he rocks into you, pushing his cum out of you onto the sheet below. “Fuck.” You sigh in bliss, just letting the feelings move through your system as Max kisses your neck. “That was - I hate to admit it but it was good.”

Chuckling as he takes both of you down to the bed to lay down, he’s feeling smug as fuck at your fucked out posture. “Good.” He hums, twitching inside you before he pulls out and shuffles so he can watch your cunt drip his cum. “Fuck, I should take a picture.” He jokes, not serious in the least. Even as a vampire, he has some morality. 

You snort, knowing he wouldn’t do it, but you look at him. “So you could show it off to all your work buddies? How you fucked your ice queen rival?” You chuckle dryly, reaching down to push two fingers inside, scooping some of his cum out of your cunt and you shove those fingers in your mouth to taste Max’s cum combined with yours.

Max groans and he watches your tongue flutter around your fingers as you sucks them clean. He grins and his own finger dips into your dripping hole for a taste of his own. “Was thinking more to jerk off to later on.” He winks and licks his finger. “Fuck, you do taste good. Is it the blood you drink?”

You smile, “yeah. I only drink from the rich.” You admit and wink at him, letting him know you’re joking. “I think someone told me once that our taste carries over from when we were human.” You reveal, “so I tasted that good before.” You smirk and nudge him with your foot which he grabs. “So what is this? Are we - ?” You bite your lip. “Fucking?” Max provides and you nod. “Who would’ve thought it? Did you, um, did you enjoy it?” You ask, offering a rare moment of vulnerability.

Max is greedy, sliding his hand up your leg and thigh. “Mhm.” He hums, smiling as he touches you like he’s never been allowed to before. “Dick didn’t freeze off.” He teases playfully. “Definitely not the Arctic circle, it’s warm, tight, fucking gooood.” He reveals honestly before he winks. “Ready to go again?” He asks, waggling his brows. “Did promise to fuck you all night after all.”

You chuckle, moving fast to straddle him, reaching down to grip his still hard cock and you sink down onto it, your combined cum pushed out as you grip his shoulders. “It’s my turn to fuck you Phillips.” You smirk, clenching around him.

“Fucccccckkkk.” Max’s eyes roll back from how quickly you sit on his cock and his fangs do spring down and make him look like the predator he is. His fingers dig into the meat of your hips, right above the thighs and he bucks his hips up. “Fuck me. Ride my cock. Wanna see your tits bounce in my face.”

You reach out to caress one of his fangs with your finger before you cup his cheeks, working your hips to start bouncing on his cock. You shift, tangling your fingers in his stupidly thick hair and your tits bounce in his face as you ride his cock hard and fast.

He’s in fucking Heaven. Keeping his fangs away from your flesh, he captures a nipple to suck on while you ride him. Groaning into your tits and lavishing them with attention while his cock twitches every time you yank on his hair. Humans never do it hard enough and most vampires try to yank it out. Your pressure on his scalp is perfect. “Fuck.”

"You're such a dick but your cock is so good." You compliment him and insult him at the same time. "Fuck Max." You pant, grinding your hips to push his cock deeper and you are grateful your thighs won't ache as you rock on his cock like he's a prize stallion.

“Ride it.” Max growls, grinning at the fight you put up but your cunt is soaking wet around him. “That pretty little cunt likes my big dick inside it, doesn’t she?” He coos, thrusting his hips up. “Wanna ride it all the time now, dontcha?”

You want to roll your eyes at his words, cringeworthy if you were sober and not currently sitting on his cock. You slam down onto his cock, "you wanna be inside of this pussy all the time now, dontcha?" You taunt back, tugging on his hair to tilt his head back so you can lick along his neck.

There’s a distinct, needy whine that pours out of Max’s throat while you clench around him and lick his skin. “Shit yes.” He chokes out. “Work while I’m inside you. Have you sit on my cock while we- we fucking make money.” His fingers dig into your hips even harder and he lifts you up and pulls you back down on his cock just as harshly as you had, groaning again.

You throw your head back when he starts to move you on his cock but you won’t let him have control. You push him backwards, grabbing his forearms and pushing them over his head. You are stretched over his body, tits swaying in his face as you start to ride his cock, grinding back onto it while you restrain him as much as you’re physically able to.

“Fuck.” Max grinds his teeth together, getting your unspoken warning to stay still and he tries to comply. It’s so hard when you feel so fucking good around him. He had never imagined it would feel this good. “Jesus Christ, sweetheart. If my heart pumped you would stop it.” He grunts out.

You giggle breathlessly at his compliment, looking down at those now black eyes, full of lust for you. “Thanks Maxie. Your cock isn’t too bad.” You tease and he makes you cry out when he thrusts up into you. “Oh fuck!” You moan,  especially when he takes your nipple into his mouth again. “Again. You’re gonna make me cum.” You plead, bucking back onto his cock.

Now it’s not a fight for control, it’s just a race for pleasure. Both of you know it’s going to come but you’re greedy. Max obeys your order and bucks up into you, bouncing you on his cock and he nearly chokes with how hard you squeeze him when he hits that magical spot inside your silken walls. “Shit baby, cum. Cum all over my cock. Wanna feel it- wanna-“ he breaks off with a loud moan when you squeeze him again, so close to cumming himself.

Your mouth falls open and nothing comes out as two more thrusts of his hips has you falling over the edge, clamping down on his cock in a way that you are squealing his name when the noise finally breaks free. Soaking him with your cum as you still above him, shaking from the intensity of the orgasm.

Max whimpers, eyes closing and his arms wrap around you. Holding you while he rocks up into you frantically. Chanting your name over and over again for another three thrust before he is pushing deep, wanting to crawl inside you while he fills you up again. Loving the perk of being a vampire and unable to get STDs or cause pregnancy.

“Fuck.” You huff shakily, shifting to look down at him and admire his handsome face, fangs pointing out, and you lean down to lick one playfully with your tongue. “Shit. That was good, baby.” You caress his cheeks and down to his neck and then his chest.

Max smirks, proud of the fact that you are saying that it was good. His strokes your back, your skin still smooth and cool, unable to sweat since you are technically dead. “Still think sex with a vampire isn’t better than a human?” He asks, brow raised and curious as to your answer.

You bite your lip, hating to say no but you can’t deny it when he has made you cum so hard. “Maybe you’re starting to change my mind.” You tease and Max growls, turning you over and playfully biting down on your neck. “So…we, uh, this is it? Just one night.” You say after a moment.

Pulling away so he can look down at you, Max makes a split second decision, reading your tone and the searching look on your face. “Doesn’t have to be.” He hums, running his tongue over his teeth and his fangs retract. “We are both busy, real go-getters.” He muses. “It would make sense that we continue this. Work out our needs, frustrations on each other. Use this great sex we have.” He doesn’t say that he wants it again, but he does. He really does. Fuck, he wants to stay the night. 

You hum, thinking about it for a moment. “I suppose it makes sense to get our…frustrations with each other out in a healthier way. Keep business as business but enjoy our pleasures too.” You sit back to get off of him, flopping down on the bed beside him. “You can’t tell anyone about it though.”

He frowns for a second, not liking the idea of secrecy but then he decides to let that go. “Of course.” He manages a smirk and a shrug by the time you turn your head to look over at him. “Lips are sealed. I’m not going to tell that the Arctic circle is conquerable.” He jokes, winking at you before he sits up. He needs to go back to his own room before he argues about your condition to continue fucking.

You roll your eyes at him before you sit up, glad you don’t ache like you would when you were human. Max probably would’ve killed you with how hard he fucked you. “I guess I’ll see you around, Phillips.” You shuffle off of the bed, anxious for a shower to clean up and he gets up, grabbing his clothes to start dressing. “I’m going to shower. Let yourself out.” You tell him and he nods, watching you make your way to the bathroom door. “Oh by the way, I like that tie.” You inform him with a wink and saunter into the bathroom, leaving him to it.

****

Max smirks when he knocks on your door before just pushing it open. You’ve been sleeping together for nearly three months and he’s just made himself at home with walking into your house when he gets off work. You hold up a finger, still halfway dressed when he knows you would normally be naked, your phone still to your ear. “Jerry, I promise you the projections are wrong.” You tell him, making Max’s smile widen even more. Your stocking are still on and you obviously was interrupted from your task of getting ready for him to fuck you by the business call. Max strides over to you and caresses your hip while you narrow your eyes at him, obviously wanting him to be quiet while you work. Winking, he lowers himself to his knees and shreds the underwear under your garter belt so he can get to your pussy. 

You gasp, “fucking hell” and Jerry asks you what’s wrong. “Nothing Jerry. Nothing. Ma- My tea was hot.” You lie even as Max’s tongue carves a path through your folds. “Fuck you.” You mouth down at Max whose dark eyes are watching you with amusement. You won’t let him win, tangling your fingers in his hair, you force yourself to concentrate on the call, listening to Jerry rattle off numbers. “Jer-Jerry. That’s not right. It’s one hun- oh.” You moan when Max sucks on your clit. Flustered, you clear your throat, “sorry about that Jerry. Tea was delicious.” You manage to lie, continuing to rattle off the numbers despite Max driving you to distraction with his tongue.

Huffing quietly in amusement, Max slides his hands up to massage your ass while he licks into you. Noticing that you have no issue pulling your leg up onto his shoulder while you sag against the counter. Smirking to himself while his tongue licks into you and he shakes his head to brush his nose against your cunt. Fuck, it’s fun to watch your control pull thin, to hear you try to keep your composure while he is unraveling you. 

Max’s tongue slides deep but it’s not enough. You lift your leg onto the counter, giving him more access than before, and he shifts to sit on the floor, wrapping his arm around your leg to keep you stable while his tongue slides deeper. “Fuck.” You hiss, head tilted back to rest against your fridge that’s full of blood bags. 

“What?” Jerry asks and you can barely think with the way Max is destroying your composure. 

“I’m sorry Jerry. I’m gonna have to - to call you back. You have the numbers. Figure it out.” You growl and hang up, tossing your phone on the counter and you reach down to tangle your fingers in Max’s hair, rocking onto his face. “You’re a bastard.” You tell him with a groan.

His laugh is louder now, his hand slapping your ass loud enough that ‘ole Jerry would have heard it if he had still been on the phone. Instead of pulling away and making a snarky comment, he decides he’ll make you cum first. Hearing you cry out is rapidly becoming his favorite fucking thing in the world, better than landing a huge sales contract. Better than beating you. His tongue flicks over your clit and he moves one hand to push three fingers into your cunt while he sucks your clit into his mouth to suck harshly, as if he’s trying to drink from your cunt. 

You decide to give in to the pleasure and not be mad, especially when he is fingering you exactly how you like it. You moan and rock down onto his digits and his face, moaning wantonly at the way he sucks on your clit. “Fuck. I’m gonna cum.” You tell him, “Max. Oh shit. Max. Max. Ma-” You choke, knee buckling as you clamp down around his fingers and soak them with your cum.

Holding you up, Max groans as he works you through it. Loving how his fingers squelch your cum slides down his knuckles. Sucking on your clit until you are whimpering his name and your stomach heaves with overstimulation. His cock is fucking hard as rock but he just kisses your curls and smirks up at you as he pulls is soaked fingers out of your cunt. “Good job, baby.” He coos playfully. “I don’t think he knew you were having your cunt devoured.”

“You’re such an asshole.” You say breathlessly, reaching down to drag him up onto his feet and when he’s standing, you press your lips to his. “Fuck me.” You order, reaching down to squeeze his cock through his pants before you work them open, managing to wrap your fingers around Max’s throbbing cock. “Someone got turned on eating pussy.” You tease, kissing his chin.

Rolling his eyes, he huffs at you. “Duh.” He is throbbing and he knows that just a few strokes of your hand would have him cumming but he wants to fill up that fucking perfect cunt of yours. “Up,” He orders, grabbing your hips and lifting you easily onto the counter with his inhumane strength. Your legs spread easily for him and he loves how soaked you are for him. “Should bend you over and make your ass bounce.” He grumbles, leaning in and pressing his lips to yours while he lines up and sinks inside you. 

You moan into his mouth, gripping his shoulders before you shove your hands under his shirt to caress his back, admiring the strength of his muscles. “You like kissing me too much.” You murmur, crossing the invisible line that neither of you discuss the other’s preferences too much. It makes it more than what it is. Just sex. Max nips your chin, making you moan, and you shift so you are hanging on the edge of the counter, allowing him deeper inside of you.

He does like kissing you. As much as he can. Too much if he were to sit down and think about it, so he doesn’t let himself. You were very clear where he stands and he isn’t fucking this up. Instead, his tongue slides against yours when he presses his lips to yours again, starting a rhythm that has his cock punching deep into your walls, desperate to feel you after hours spent away.

You let him kiss you, especially when his tongue traces your teeth like it always does. It must be his thing. You moan into his mouth, letting his fuck you hard and fast, his hips slamming against your thighs as you shuffle ever so close to falling off of the counter and Max makes you squeal when he grabs your thighs, lifting you up and fucking you on his cock. You squeal and wrap your arms around his neck to stop yourself from falling backwards as he moves your body. “Oh fuck Max.” You moan at this sheer display of his strength.

It’s easy to do, to lift you up as if you weigh nothing. You could do the same to him if you wanted to. It’s the symbolism for him, the way that he can have you any way that he wants to. It’s thrilling. The fact that you let him do whatever he wants and eagerly takes the positions, the pace. You bounce on his cock as he moves you up and down, “fuck, look at that.” He groans, looking between you and watching you take him. Seeing the way your lips stretch around him. “Tell me that’s good, baby. Tell me how much you love my cock.” 

You watch him watching his cock disappear inside of you and you moan his name, “it’s so good baby. So good. I love your cock. Love it. Always - always so good. Making me cum every damn day. I love it. Want you to - to fuck me all day every day if we - if we didn’t have to work.”

“Fuck.” Max hisses, closing his eyes and his fangs spring down at the mere thought. “After- after I get this new job I’ll fuck you every- every day.” He huffs, imagining it clearly. You sitting on his cock while he signs contracts, answering his phone with your pants of pleasure in his ear. He would lay you out on his fucking desk like a feast everyday. 

In a turn of events, your rival businesses are merging and Max is getting a senior position in a separate department to yours. No longer enemies, you and Max are not competing for sales. It’s strange to not be battling him for contracts. Especially when the merger will mean he will be in your building. “Yes. Yes. Every day. I want you to eat me for lunch.” You demand, kissing his neck as you rock down onto his cock, taking over the pace.

“Fuck yes.” Max whines, holding you in his arms and letting you fuck him. Your thighs squeezing him as you lift and lower yourself. “Best fucking lunch. Better than the interns.” He jokes, toes curling in his shoes as you squeeze him with your inner muscles. “Pour some blood on your pussy and pretend you're on the rag.” 

You roll your eyes at his lewd comment but you know that’s just how Max can be. “Fucking weirdo.” You tease, kissing his lips, “you’re such a dick but I- God, I don’t want to stop fucking you. It’s like you’ve got some kind of drug in your cum because I’m addicted to you.” You admit, scaring yourself honestly at how attached you are to him.

Max chuckles, taking over the pace again when you let him. Rocking up onto his toes to grind into you. “Caught me. Been feeding you cocaine laced cum.” He teases, feeling the same way. “Don’t worry baby, gonna - gonna fuck you for as long as you want.” He’s almost said something about doing more than just fucking, but he’s scared you would turn him down so he keeps quiet. 

His words send you over the edge, making you cry out as you clamp down on his cock, unable to stop yourself from climaxing as he promises to keep fucking you. He groans at how tight you grip him, keeping you upright as you shake. “Baby.” You gasp, “want - want you to cum down my throat. Let me - let me suck you off.”

He groans, knowing this is special. It’s rare that you don’t want him to cum in your pussy. Not that he minds. He talks a big game about blow jobs but he’s never once asked you for one. If you want to suck his cock, you will. It’s that simple in his mind. Nodding, he sets you down and watches as you wrap your hand around his length, kneeling down in front of him. “Fuck.” 

You waste no time in taking him into your mouth with a moan, loving the tangy taste of your own cum coating his cock as you take him down your throat. Another plus of being a vampire: no gag reflex. You look up at him as you take him deep down your throat, loving the way he's watching you.

“Look at you.” He coos, reaching down and stroking your jaw. “You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth.” His eyes roll back and he tilts his head back and moans your name when you press your tongue to the underside of his cock and swallow around the head. “Oh fuck.” He huffs, hips lurching forward to chase that feeling. “So good baby.”

You repeat that action, desperate for him to cum down your throat. You whimper around his cock, reaching down to roll his balls in your fingers, keeping your eyes on him as you watch him moan and groan as you swallow around his thick cock.

“Shiiiit.” Max hisses. “I’m gonna cum.” He warns you. “I’m gonna cum down that pretty little throat of yours. Fuck gonna fill you up, and-“ He tenses up, moaning as he does just that. Pumping spurt after spurt of his cum down your throat. 

You eagerly swallow every drop, closing your eyes at the salty taste that doesn’t have that tang that human cum has in it. You swallow until his balls relax under your touch and you pull off of him, cheekily opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out to show him your empty mouth.

“Good girl.” Max lunges down, eager to taste the remnants of his cum from your mouth. Moaning into you while he kisses you. He’s fucked. He realizes it right at this moment. He wants you. Not for some hate fucking, he’s never hated you. But he wants more that just sex.

You kiss him back, letting him pull you into his arms and you realize how dangerous this is getting. It’s no longer hate fucking, it’s turning into something else and you don’t know how to stop it. You do know that Max would break your heart once he gets bored. “I, um, I still need to call Jerry if you - you can take a blood bag to go if you want.” You step away from him, wishing you had a robe or something to cover you, cover your emotions.

Max’s silent heart clenches and he frowns slightly before he nods. “Sure.” He covers up the hurt with a chuckle and sends you a small smirk. “I have to go move into my fancy new office anyway, sweetheart.” He tucks himself away and zips up before straightening his clothes. He can’t help but feel like you are shoving him out the door. “Until next time.”

You watch him go, leaning against the counter and covering your face with your hands. Fuck, when did it happen? When did you fall in love with Max Phillips?

****

Once Max is settled into his office, you must admit you’ve been avoiding him. Deciding that he doesn’t feel the same and you’d only embarrass yourself by asking him such a question, you avoid Max at all costs. Having your assistant screen calls and meetings for the man, you succeed in avoiding him until you hear his name mentioned in the break room. “Yes. He invited me into his office and we…” The intern giggles as she looks around, not seeing you behind the door, “we had sex on his desk.” Your heart sinks, breaking in two at the news that Max has already moved on. You swallow harshly, unshed tears stinging in your eyes as you make your way back to your office.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Phillips. She is in a meeting with orders to not be disturbed.” Max sighs as he listens to your secretary yet again tell him that you aren’t available. The same thing he’s heard from her every day for nearly two weeks. He’s gone from having sex with you every since day to not seeing you and he hates it. 

“Yeah, thanks.” He mutters into the phone. “Tell her to call me when she’s done.” He drops the phone into the cradle and sighs. He knows you won’t call him, you haven’t despite the messages to your secretary and the texts to your personal phone. He’s getting desperate to see you and figure out what the hell is going on.

You are working late, unavoidable considering the new contract you’re working on, but you curse your assistant leaving on time when your door opens and Max Phillips strides in unannounced. “Phillips.” You greet him coolly, not even looking up from your computer.

Max blinks at the acidity in your tone and it’s on the tip of his tongue to ask if you’re on your period but he knows that doesn’t happen anymore. Unable to deflect with humor like he usually would, he decides to be upfront. “What the hell is going on?” He demands. “We went from wanting to fuck everyday at lunch once we were in the same building to you ghosting me.”

You bite your lip, wanting to growl at him, but you just respond calmly. “Oh, sorry. I thought you had found a new pretty intern to fuck during lunch and I was no longer needed?” You frown, tilting your head at him.

His brow scrunches in confusion and he shakes his head. “What are you talking about? What intern?” He demands, leaning against the door jam. “Only person I’ve fucked is you and I haven’t been doing a lot of that lately.”

You huff, standing up from your desk, you walk around it to face Max. “Are you serious? I heard her earlier. She said she fucked you in her office and as I walked away she said - she said you traced her teeth with your tongue.” You choke, knowing that is something Max and only Max tends to do.

Now he’s pissed, that she’s lying and that you believe this person. “She must have heard that from someone else I’ve fucked before you.” He growls. “Because I’ve not stuck my dick in anyone but you.” He sees that you don’t believe him and scoffs. “Fucking convenient for you to hear this. If you wanted to stop fucking you don’t have to lie. I don’t fucking force anyone to have sex with me. I don’t need to.”

You shake your head, “it wasn’t - fucking hell. That’s the problem. I didn’t want to stop fucking you. You’re lying about fucking someone else and I shouldn’t be mad because I can’t - we can’t keep doing this. You’ve got me tied up in knots. I can’t focus and I- you need to leave before I change my mind and beg you to fuck me on my desk.”

Max stares at you for a moment in disbelief before he pushes off the door and slowly starts to clap. “Bravo.” He shakes his head, a sarcastic grin on his face. “Amazing, you almost had me. See, I knew it was stupid to fall in love with you, knew I was going to get burned eventually. Especially considering I’ve called you every single day and you’ve been the one rejecting me.” He huffs and drops the smile. “The arctic circle ain’t in your cunt, it’s your icy cold heart. Good luck on the next poor fucker.” He growls, turning on his heel to leave this fucking office and go get drunk somewhere.

“You’re a bastard.” You rush to follow him, lucky that no one is around to witness you as you grab Max and spin him around. “This wasn’t in the plan. I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with you.” You rush out, eyes wide as you stare at him. Your heart would be beating out of your chest if you were human but all you can do is stare at him.

Max stares back at you, ready to lash out and deny it. “So if I love you and you love me, why would you think I’d fuck anyone but you?” He demands. “I don’t even know what intern you’re talking about. And I- Jesus, you’re the best lover I’ve ever had. Where could I go after you? No one could ever beat you.”

You swallow harshly at his words, reaching up to cup his cheeks. “I just - I thought you hated me still. I thought it was just sex. I never - I thought you were just fucking me for a release because it’s - it’s the best sex I’ve ever had. No one compares. You are a pain in my ass, but baby, you are strong and smart, so fucking smart, and handsome and you’re funny - even if it’s in a college frat boy kind of way - I just never imagined you’d feel the same way.”

Max chuckles and shakes his head. “I’ve never hated you, sweetheart.” He promises. “I just liked getting under your skin. I liked pissing you off. You’re sexy when you’re annoyed. Like pulling the braids of the girl I like on the playground.” He confesses with a small grin. He steps closer to you, more serious than he’s ever been. “I have not slept with anyone but you since the night we started. I haven’t even looked.”

You believe him, caressing his cheeks, “I love you, Max Phillips.” You whisper, smiling at the cocky bastard who used to make your life hell but now you can’t imagine being without him.

“I love you.” He promises, reaching up to brush his knuckles across your cheeks and he smirks. “Now that we know where we stand, can I fuck you?” He asks, lifting a brow. “I really, really miss being inside you.”

You giggle, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck, “you want to fuck me in my fancy office, Mr. Phillips?” You tease, leaning in to nip his jaw and you are relieved that you are both on the same page.

“I do want to fuck you in your fancy office.” He smirks, his fangs sliding down and he looks behind you. “You have a drop cloth or a sheet of plastic?” He asks. “Might get a little messy.”

You chuckle, “I might have a bedsheet I snuck in just in case we happened to fuck in here.” You take Max’s hand and guide him into your office, letting go of his hand to get the sheet from your bottom desk drawer, laying it out on the sofa in your office.

Max smirks and starts stripping out of his suit while you adjust the sheet. Eager to touch you, his cock is already throbbing. “I’m going to fuck you so hard baby. The security desk is going to think you’re being staked.”

You playfully roll your eyes at his cocky words but you know he can make you squeal and scream. You finish adjusting the sheet and struggle to pull down the zipper of your dress as Max kicks off his shoes and shoves his pants and boxers down.  

“Too slow sweetheart.” Max tuts, taking over and dragging the zipper down and peeling the dress off of you in the blink of an eye. “Fuck, I love stripping you down. You should stay naked all the time.”

You sigh when Max kisses your neck and shoulder as you kick the dress aside, stepping out of your heels and you spin around to face Max. Pressing your lips to his, you press your chest to his and tangle your fingers in his hair. “Fuck me Max.” You plead, feeling his hard cock pressing into your hip.

“I’m going to.” He promises, happy that you are in his arms again. His tongue trails over your neck and he can’t help himself, sinking his teeth into your flesh while he grabs your ass and hauls you back towards the couch.

You look up at Max as he lays you down on the sofa and you caress his chest, over the space where his heart would be beating. “I love you.” You murmur, spreading your legs to accommodate him as you continue caressing his chest.

He hums, loving hearing you say that. “Love you too.” He groans, sliding his hand between the two of you so he can line up to push inside you. The head of his cock slips inside your cunt as he ducks down to take your nipple into his mouth.

You moan when he pushes into you, feeling like you’re finally home, where you should be. With him. “Max.” You moan, tangling your fingers in his hair as he bites down on your breast and he starts to rock his hips, pushing into you. It’s slow, unlike the always frantic pace, and you sigh in pleasure.

He’s never set a slow pace with you, knowing that he had to make sure you had the most pleasure he could offer within an hour or two. Now he takes his time, he’ll spend all night right here if he has to. Wanting to drag it out for as long as he can. Enjoying the slow drag of his cock in and out of your walls while he works his hip.

“Fuck. That feels good.” You moan, caressing his back as he rocks into you. You whimper when he hits something deep and slowly fucks you. No, he doesn’t fuck you. He makes love to you. “God, you feel so good. No one has ever felt like this.”

Max groans in agreement. He reaches for your hand and laces his fingers with yours. “Bite me.” He begs, wanting to feel your fangs in his flesh. You’ve never bitten him before but he thinks it’s hot to have you do it while he’s buried in your cunt.

You squeeze his hand and feel your fangs appear so you cup the back of his head, pulling him closer so you can sink your fangs into his flesh. There’s no blood but you moan at the sensation of his cock inside of you and your fangs in his neck. It’s incredible and you moan into his flesh as he rocks into you.

“Fuck.” Max groans loudly, cock twitching deep inside you but he doesn’t push harder or faster into you. Keeping his pace slow and steady, while he love the feeling of your fangs breaking through his skin. “Again baby, fuck, mark me as yours.”

You repeat the action, allowing yourself to dive into your instincts, your animalistic ways shining through as you bite him, marking him as yours. The marks will stay, a shimmering scar once they heal over - as soon as your fangs are removed - and you are close to cumming at the thought of Max being yours and only yours.

Max grunts, closing his eyes and smirking as he continues to rock into you. “Love you, so fucking much.” He groans out. “Perfect vampire for me, perfect woman, perfect little pussy.”

You lick over the marks after withdrawing your fangs. “I love you baby. So much. God, you are - you’re an asshole but you’re my asshole. I wouldn’t change you for all the sales in the world. Perfect for me.” You pant, getting closer and closer with every slow rock of his hips until finally, you fall over the edge and clamp down on his cock. Your orgasm is slow, seeming to spread to every inch of your body.

Max buries his fangs in your neck as you come apart for him. Your walls clamp down like a vice around him, soaking him in your release. He loves the way you cry his name, needy and loving. “Love you,” he pants, withdrawing his fangs and pressing his lips to yours when he starts to cum, filling you with his own release in agonizing pleasure.

You cling to him as he cums, filling you up and you’ve missed this so much, missed him so much. You peck his lips over and over as he rides out his orgasm and you caress his shoulders and back. “Love you.” You murmur, actually feeling tired. 

Max kisses your jaw when you tilt your head back. “Not as much as I love you.” 

You snort, “always in competition.” You love him and he loves you. Never, in a million years, would you have imagined that if you’d been asked four months ago but here you are. In love with a blood sucking bastard

[royalty-nobility]

Queen Charlotte (1744-1818)

Artist: Thomas Gainsborough (English, 1727-1788)

Date: c.1781

Medium: Oil on Canvas

Collection: Royal Collection,

Description

When this portrait was exhibited at the Royal Academy in 1781, Sir Henry Bate-Dudley praised it as ‘the only happy likeness we ever saw pourtrayed of her Majesty’. Gainsborough had already received commissions from the King’s brothers but the exhibition of these major full lengths proved his pre-eminence as unofficial court painter, ‘the Apollo of the Palace’. A portrait of Prince William, painted in the same year, was followed by the set of 15 ovals of the royal family in 1782. Reynolds commented on Gainsborough’s practice of ‘forming all the parts of the picture together’. Here all the parts have a suggestive delicacy. The Queen’s dress of gold-spangled silk net over white silk, punctuated by tasselled bunches of gold lace, dominates the painting. Its intangible gauze-like effect is echoed by the flowers in the Queen’s powdered hair and in the foliage and sky in the landscape beyond. Famous for capturing an exact likeness, Gainsborough gives the Queen’s unremarkable features latent gaiety and animation as she moves into the light, her dog in step with her. Her regal bearing is reinforced by the height of her elaborately dressed hair, her easy control of her hooped dress and train and the grandeur of the classical temple behind her. James Northcote, Reynolds’s pupil, also praised the portrait: ‘with what a graceful sweep she seems to move through the picture! ’Tis actual motion, and done with such a light airy facility . . . The drapery was done in one night by Gainsborough and his nephew, Gainsborough Dupont; they sat up all night, and painted it by lamplight.’ Although not a State Portrait like that painted by Ramsay in 1761, this full length by Gainsborough has been rightly described as a ‘portrait of grand informality’; it was much copied. George III hung the painting in the Dining Room at Buckingham House, although it was briefly transferred to Windsor in 1804/5.

Note: In an exhibition, The King's Gallery, Palace of Holyroodhouse

[wonder-worker]

"Fundamental to Alice's ability to increase her perceived influence in this fashion was her position at court. Continuing the pattern that had emerged towards the end of the 1360s during Philippa’s illness, after the death of his wife Edward III became even more politically inactive as his own health declined and he sought greater privacy with a restricted group of trusted companions at his favoured residences of Sheen, Eltham and Havering, leaving the majority of the royal household at Windsor. This created a royal court that was very much separate from the royal household. At the same time there was a marked decline in the number of members of the aristocracy amongst the king’s companions and, with the exception of the earl of Arundel, all the lords of Edward’s generation had either died or stopped attending council meetings by 1373. Of the king’s surviving sons, the Black Prince virtually retired from public life after returning from Aquitaine in 1371 debilitated by illness, Thomas of Woodstock was still too young to take an active role in government, and John of Gaunt and Edmund of Langley attended court when they could, but they, together with the young earls of March, Suffolk, Warwick, Oxford and Stafford, were too busy on the continent following the resumption of the war with France in 1369 to have any consistent presence at court.

It was under these circumstances that a small group of royal favourites, collectively identified as the court covyne or clique, came to dominate the person, policy and patronage of Edward III during the final years of his life. At the heart of this intimate circle was Alice. The other leading members were the chamberlain, William Lord Latimer; the steward, John Lord Neville of Raby; the chamber knight Richard Stury; and the financier, Richard Lyons. They were followed by a broader circle of household members and London merchants, who included: Helming Leget, receiver of the chamber; Sir John Ipres, controller of the king’s household; Nicholas Carew, keeper of the privy seal; Sir Robert Ashton, treasurer from 1375; Sir Alan Buxhull, chamber knight and constable of the Tower of London; Philip la Vache; John Pyel; Adam Francis; John Peeche; and Adam Bury. The supremacy this group maintained over the king was self-perpetuating; just as Edward, in his desire for his mistress and to be surrounded by a small number of intimates, came to be dependent on Alice, Latimer and their associates, so the members of this close-knit group reinforced their disproportionate amount of influence by supporting each other’s position.

This is not to suggest that Alice was dependent on the court covyne for her position. On the contrary, it could be argued that the king’s infatuation with his mistress made her the personal linchpin without whom the rest of the group would have fallen apart. This put Alice in a position of enormous power, as she was able not only to cajole and flatter Edward into giving her gifts of land and jewels, but also to make great demands of those who sought favour with the king and who came to her in the knowledge that, where Edward III was concerned, Alice could achieve whatever she desired. The queen’s death, her position at court, and her consequent visibility: these are the three reasons for Alice’s extraordinary rise to power after 1369 and her dramatic fall from grace in 1376, when she and her fellow courtiers came under attack from the Commons in the Good Parliament."

— Laura Tompkins, The Uncrowned Queen: Alice Perrers, Edward III and Political Crisis in Fourteenth-Century England, 1360-1377 (PHD Thesis, University of St Andrews, 2013)

[maxwell-mtv]

I'd like to think that in a steamy situation, Morris would attempt to be all domineering and smug. Like hand against the wall, looking down his windsor specs at you, a hungry look in his crimson eyes.

But because he is Morris, he would not know what words to say without sounding like a total dork. And also because he is Morris, he'd also look a little dorky too.

[andiatas]

Royal(ish) Reads: Jul-Sep 2024

Note: Some of the following links are affiliate links, which means I earn a commission on every purchase. This does not affect the price you pay. Also note that all titles mentioned are written by historians, researchers, or scholars. Only in rare cases are featured titles not written by someone with training in historical research.

For more book recommendations like in this post, you can follow my blog & Instagram

The Tragic Life of Lady Jane Grey by Beverley Adams (published Aug. 30, 2024) // All His Spies: The Secret World of Robert Cecil by Stephen Alford (published Jul. 4, 2024) // Dancing With Diana: A Memoir by Anne Allan (published Sep. 10, 2024)

Son of Prophecy: The Rise of Henry Tudor by Nathen Amin (published Jul. 15, 2024) // Planning the Murder of Anne Boleyn by Caroline Angus (published Aug. 30, 2024) // The Last Days of Richard III and the fate of his DNA by John Ashdown-Hill (new paperback version published Sep. 26, 2024)

The Fall of Egypt and the Rise of Rome: A History of the Ptolemies by Guy de la Bedoyere (published Sep. 10, 2024) // Richard Beauchamp: Medieval England's Greatest Knight by David Brindley (new paperback version published Aug. 29, 2024) // A Voyage Around the Queen by Craig Brown (published Aug. 29, 2024)

Henry III: Reform, Rebellion, Civil War, Settlement, 1258-1272 by David Carpenter (new paperback version published Sep. 24, 2024) // Stuart Spouses: A Compendium of Consorts from James I of Scotland to Queen Anne of Great Britain by Heather R. Darsie (published Sep. 30, 2024) // Prince Eugene of Savoy: A Genius for War Against Louis XIV and the Ottoman Empire by James Falkner (published Aug. 30, 2024)

Normal Women: From the Number One Bestselling Author Comes 900 Years of Women Making History by Philippa Gregory (new paperback version published Sep. 26, 2024) // The Romanovs: Imperial Russia and Ruling the Empire, 1613-1917 by Professor Lindsey Hughes, Professor Erika Monahan (2nd edition published Sep. 19, 2024) // Lady Pamela: My Mother's Extraordinary Years as Daughter to the Viceroy of India, Lady-in-Waiting to the Queen, and Wife of David Hicks by India Hicks (published Sep. 3, 2024)

Hannibal and Scipio: Parallel Lives by Simon Hornblower (published Sep. 26, 2024) // Oliver Cromwell: Commander in Chief by Ronald Hutton (published Aug. 27, 2024) // Catherine, the Princess of Wales: The Biography by Robert Jobson (published Aug. 1, 2024)

Henry V: The Astonishing Rise of England's Greatest Warrior King by Dan Jones (published Sep. 12, 2024) // Courtiers: Intrigue, Ambition, and the Power Players Behind the House of Windsor by Valentine Low (new paperback version published Sep. 17, 2024) // Kings & Queens: The Real Lives of the English Monarchs by Ann MacMillan, Peter Snow (new paperback version published Sep. 12, 2024)

The Romanovs Under House Arrest: The Russian Revolution and A Royal Family’s Imprisonment in their Palace by Mickey Mayhew (published Aug. 30, 2024) // Queen Victoria's Favourite Granddaughter: Princess Victoria of Hesse and by Rhine, the Most Consequential Royal You Never Knew by Ilana D. Miller (published Aug. 19, 2024) // Cooking and the Crown: Royal recipes from Queen Victoria to King Charles III by Tom Parker Bowles (published Sep. 26, 2024)

Pure Wit: The Revolutionary Life of Margaret Cavendish by Francesca Peacock (new paperback version published Sep. 12, 2024) // Henry VIII and the Plantagenet Poles: The Rise and Fall of a Dynasty by Adam Pennington (Sep. 30, 2024) // Everyday Life in Tudor London: Life in the City of Thomas Cromwell, William Shakespeare & Anne Boleyn by Stephen Porter (new paperback version published Aug. 15, 2024)

Kingmaker: Pamela Churchill Harriman's Astonishing Life of Seduction, Intrigue and Power by Sonia Purnell (published Sep. 19, 2024) // The Secret Diary of Queen Camilla by Hilary Rose (published Sep. 26, 2024) // Adventures in Time: Heroes: The Box Set by Dominic Sandbrook (published Aug. 29, 2024)

Adventures in Time: Heroines: The Box Set by Dominic Sandbrook (published Aug. 29, 2024) // Justinian: Emperor, Soldier, Saint by Professor Peter Sarris (new paperback version published Sep. 12, 2024) // Women in the Valley of the Kings: The Untold Story of Women Egyptologists in the Gilded Age by Kathleen Sheppard (published Aug. 19, 2024)

Marriage, Tudor Style: Love, Hate & Scandal by Sylvia Barbara Soberton (published Jul. 29, 2024) // A History of the Roman Empire in 21 Women by Emma Southon (new paperback version published Jul. 4, 2024) // A Rome of One's Own: The Forgotten Women of the Roman Empire by Emma Southon (new paperback version published Sep. 17, 2024)

Cleopatra: The Woman Behind the Stories by Alexandra Stewart and Hannah Peck (published Aug. 15, 2024) // The Wisest Fool: The Lavish Life of James VI and I by Steven Veerapen (new paperback version published Sep. 5, 2024) // The King's Loot: The Greatest Royal Jewellery Heist in History by Richard Wallace (published Aug. 8, 2024)

The Beaumonts: Kings of Jerusalem by Kathryn Warner (published Sep. 30, 2024) // Emperor of the Seas: Kublai Khan and the Making of China by Jack Weatherford (published Sep. 26, 2024) // Ravenous: A Life of Barbara Villiers, Charles II's Most Infamous Mistress by Andrea Zuvich (published Jul. 30, 2024)

[bizarrebuns]

"Mona" - Windsor, ON, Canada

Her profile describes her as a "dominant girl" and she has the character design to match. Ears as fickle as her mood. Hair as fabulous as her soul.

[saintmeghanmarkle]

Meghan Markle and Wallis Simpson both narcissistic with weak husbands author suggests. Sally Bedell Smith says the Dukes of Sussex and Windsor were both weak men drawn to domineering wives by u/ElectricalAd9212

Meghan Markle and Wallis Simpson both narcissistic with weak husbands, author suggests. Sally Bedell Smith says the Dukes of Sussex and Windsor were both weak men drawn to domineering wives Its good that the word 'Narcissist' is corrrectly being applied to her.Next it needs to be the word 'sociopath' that becomes synonymous with her name.from the Telegraph​( link)​+++++The Duchess of Sussex has the same “narcissistic and controlling” quality as Wallis Simpson and married a similarly “weak” man, a biographer of the Royal family has claimed.Sally Bedell Smith said there were clear parallels between the Sussexes and the Duke and Duchess of Windsor, with both relationships ruled by “domineering” wives.Bedell Smith, an American, is the author of a biography of George VI, the Duke of Windsor’s brother, and his wife, the late Queen Mother.Speaking at the Oxford Literary Festival, Bedell Smith said that the breakdown of relations between Princes Harry and William had echoes of the difficult relationship that the king, known as Bertie, had with his errant brother.“There are similarities. The Duke of Windsor did a lot of harmful things,” Bedell Smith said.“It’s different – Harry was never going to be king – but I think there are similar feelings of betrayal that have resulted in William, in particular, being furious with his brother, and with good reason.“They had a difficult childhood but there was a period of time, as was the case with Bertie and David, when they were very close.“And an American woman, in each case, came into the picture and changed the dynamic of the whole thing.”Bedell Smith, who is American, went on: “In some respects, Meghan and the Duchess of Windsor have similar qualities: very narcissistic, very controlling, very dominating. And if you read [the Duke of Windsor’s] letters, you can see how weak he was and how much he needed a domineering woman, and it feels as if Harry is somewhat the same way.”She said that the Duke of Windsor threw the monarchy into turmoil over his “obsession” with Wallis Simpson but the abdication “delivered Britain from an irresponsible king” and replaced Edward with a king known for his diligence and decency.Bedell Smith’s book, George VI and Elizabeth: The Marriage that Saved the Monarchy, follows her biographies of the King (when he was the Prince of Wales), Elizabeth II and Diana, Princess of Wales.​ post link: https://ift.tt/aZmlVS0 author: ElectricalAd9212 submitted: March 17, 2024 at 10:31PM via SaintMeghanMarkle on Reddit disclaimer: all views + opinions expressed by the author of this post, as well as any comments and reblogs, are solely the author's own; they do not necessarily reflect the views of the administrator of this Tumblr blog. For entertainment only.

[grits-galraisedinthesouth]

Was it worth it Sparry?

"Band aides Don't Fix Bullet Holes..."

AFTER Sparry's unconsciously biased conversation about fathering ginger kiddos, he chose NOT to seek clarification from the offensive family member(s) about what he may or may not have said or heard. Instead, while Sparry & Megain were dating, Sparry (as he told Colbert) assumed that IF their relationship were to go the distance: Megain's African genes would dominate his Ginger genes; however, low IQ Sparry only relayed to Megain whatever he overheard or misheard the Windsor's say so they could document the incident in her middle school girls' burn book as leverage for post-wedding blackmail.

Sparry certainly wasn't shy about entertaining multiple pre-engagement discussions about money, Megain's acting career/income, clothing, security, etc

These discussions led Charles to describe Rachel Megain Markle as "Tungsten."

Megain & Sparry were willing to challenge and debate The Queen of England and The Prince of Wales concerning material things, but refused to address the most important elephant in the room: Megain's DEMAND to work and reside amongst Sparry's unconsciously biased family.

The family came to a workable agreement about Megain's BRF "service" opportunities and Megain eagerly awaited Sparry's proposal.

The public knows that Megain expected Sparry to propose marriage because she phoned Mulroney in the midst of his proposal and said "it's (finally) happening." Rachel Megain immediately accepted Sparry's marriage proposal and wanted to "hit the ground running" for the family and institution that she & Sparry defined as racist unconsciously biased.

These two-faced, full grown, able bodied adults scripted and recorded their very first global lie-fest before the entire world and included how "wonderful" everyone, (particularly Catherine) had welcomed Megain into the Windsor family. Megain proceeded to invade the private homes & intimate spaces of Sparry's family without once telling them the truth about their racist unconsciously biased words concerning Megain's unfertilized eggs.

Megain even gave an unconventional Christmas speech to the ENTIRE extended Windsor family. She recycled how THIS (unconsciously biased) family (unlike the Engleson's) is the family she never had.

If the Meghans were so victimized, why didn't they ask Megain's therapist mother for advice? Megain requested a fast track entrance to the Anglican Church. The Arch Bishop could have coordinated private extended family counseling sessions.

Megain chose to lie before God and to the clergy. As Samantha (BP employee) said, "we have been duped" because Megain always planned for her relationship with the BRF to fail.

While preparing for the wedding, this middle school (adolescent) couple prepared to sell tell their story to NOprah for a biased, 1-sided, televised, air out "hearsay" and our dirty laundry faux therapy session.

These victimized Meghans should have visited with Megain's mom & father over that Christmas holiday. They could have used that holiday to plan for a simple beach wedding in Megain's CA USA hometown. Instead, they invaded the privacy of multiple family members at Sandringham. These intimate engagements provided deceitful opportunities for Me-Me to take note of even more unconsciously biased Windsor family offenses.

This selfish couple displaced the homeless population and billed the UK tax payer for the pre-engagement events, as well as millions of dollars to cover the security costs of their Spring "Spectacle."

The Duke and Duchess of Deceit:

Sparry asked his unconsciously biased father to walk his BLACK fiancee down the aisle.

Sparry asked his unconsciously biased & heavily pregnant sister-in-law to host his BLACK fiancee in her home at Christmas.

After the NOprah lie-fest, Sparry personally contacted CBS & Gayle King to clarify that his racist (unconsciously biased) "conversation" did NOT occur with his elderly grandparents.

The world heard Gayle King relay Harry's "message" and yet today the story has been revised to: "a sussex representative" stated that neither Sparry's grandmother, nor his grandfather were present for "that conversation" (convo Sparry vowed never to discuss).

As of December 2023, "THAT conversation" (relayed to Megain by Sparry) BEFORE they were engaged, BEFORE they were married, BEFORE megnancy has now been revised: an increase from one (1) to two (2) conversations and a decrease from "several conversations" to two (2) conversations.

How thoughtful of Sparry to use his wife's paranoia & her self-hatred to blackmail the entire Windsor family & markle his kids' royal heritage.

Megain hates The Royal Tea House. Please follow the link to subscribe & LIKE