A Very Awkward Romance

Poor Education

He went from looking angry to deflated as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Then he turned a baleful and almost pitying expression on her. It was clear that he was unsure if he wanted to strangle her or pat her on the head.

"Your mother told you that v*****s were off limits until marriage?" He asked incredulously. "Well that explains why you look like a scared little lamb that has never even heard of sex."

He moved towards her quickly, once again pinning her to the wall and caging her in his arms.

"Let me educate you,' He said darkly.'Since no one in your family has the sense to explain to you how babies are made."

"I don't want those either, so no need." She dismissed him. His patience snapped at her stubborn refusal to learn about s*x. His face contorted with a mix of anger and aggravation.

"What woman doesn't want babies?!" His question was one of genuine shock. But he quickly shook his head. "Whatever, not the point. You are not leaving this corridor until I explain to you what happens when Men and Women f**k, because your parents have clearly neglected that aspect of your education!"

His hands slammed against the wall on either side of her head, making her jump. His face was less than an inch from hers, his eyes burning with something dark.

"When my c**k gets hard, which happens around beautiful women like you, it turns into a thick, pulsing rod of flesh...' His words were deliberately chosen for their shock value."and when it slides into your tight little cunt for the first time, it will stretch you open until you are screaming from pleasure and pain."

"Why the hell would anyone in their right mind want that?!?!" She looked at him as if he were unnatural, a freak of nature, and dirty. All the while, she was giggling maniacally inside her head.

The prince's expression started turning dark, though it was still laced with the arrogance he couldn't quite shake. He studied her horrified face for a moment before letting out a heavy sigh.

"Why would anyone want that?" He repeated your question, sounding quite put out. "Because being filled by a man, as he pushes deep inside until you feel them pressing against your womb... It's the most intense pleasure a woman can experience."

He had to be joking. There is no way he thought that was the height of pleasure for a woman. Which ever w***e house he had been visiting was clearly the wrong one for education and the right one for stroking egos. It took all of her self-control to keep a steady face. His voice dropped to that dangerous whisper again as he leaned closer, his breath warm against her lips.

"Your p***y will clench around me so tightly it will hurt, and when I pull back slowly before slamming back into you again... every nerve ending will scream with ecstasy." He was an i***t. A total, complete i***t.

"Your entire body will shake with the force of it," he continued, his thumb now stroking along her cheek. "You'll beg me to stop even as you're begging me to f**k you harder. And when I finally let you come... it'll feel like your soul is leaving your body in the best way. THAT is what arousal is. Nothing will ever feel as good as being f****d by someone who knows how to make you scream."

His eyes searched hers for any sign that she understood him the way he wanted her to. She hoped her next words would be enough to put a nail in this metaphorical coffin.

"That sounds horrifying!" She said indignantly, making origami out of his words as she twisted them around. "Nothing that has ever made me scream was ever pleasant! Never mind having someone make you scream until your soul leaves your body?!"

Prince Ambrose's expression shifted completely at her response, his arrogant smirk returning with renewed intensity. He threw his head back and laughed, a rich sound that seemed to mock her.

"Nothing has ever made you scream with pleasure?" He wipes tears of laughter from his eyes. "Oh my sweet, naive little thing, you've never screamed properly in your life."

His body pressed against hers until she could feel every line of his muscular frame through the layers of her silk dress. His hands slid down from the wall to hold her by her waist possessively. She stiffened and started wondering how much trouble she would get into if she decked the Crown Prince right in the middle of his perfectly written, fictional face.

"Let me help you experience what real screaming sounds and feels like," he murmured against her neck, goosebumps spreading from the point of where his lips made contact with her skin. "When your p***y is so wet it's dripping down your thighs as my c**k pounds into you..."

"STOP!" She slapped her hands over his mouth, her face turning several shades of red as he finally crossed a line that made even the modern woman trapped inside this ridiculous story blush. "Stop talking and step back. I DO NOT, I repeat, DO NOT want to be seen alone with you, never mind this close or worse, this close and having THAT conversation with you! END STORY!"

The prince's eyes flashed with surprise at the sudden slap of your hands over his mouth. For a moment, he remained frozen in place, clearly caught off guard by your physical rejection. Slowly, he pried her hands from his mouth by her wrists and pried her hands away. His grip is firm, but not painful, holding her in place as he studies her terrified expression with something that looked almost like concern.

"End story?" He repeats quietly, his voice losing its mocking edge. "You think you can just tell me to stop talking and expect me to obey like some well-trained dog?"

Well, if all men are dogs, then yes, a dog. However, it was clear that he was not well-trained and probably not housebroken. She mused. He doesn't step back, though; instead, he keeps her pinned against the wall with his body. His fingers are gently massaging her hands where they're trapped in his grasp.

"Look at you," he murmurs, "terrified of something you've never experienced."

His gaze softened slightly as he studied her flushed cheeks and wide eyes, seeing past the indignation to the genuine fear beneath it. For a moment, he seemed almost regretful for scaring her so thoroughly. His expression nearly made her feel a little guilty over deceiving him. But the sensation was fleeting.

"I won't force you to listen if you don't want to," he said quietly, "but I can't promise that I'll stop fantasizing about how your p***y would feel wrapped around my c**k until you're screaming my name."

He finally released one of her wrists, letting his fingers trail down her arm in a gesture that's almost tender compared to his earlier crude remarks. The other hand still holding her by the wrist.

"We can not be seen like this! They will force us to marry!!! USE YOUR HEAD PRINCE AMBROSE!" She whisper-yelled at him, desperate to escape potential ruin. His eyes narrowed slightly at your panicked whisper, the reality of your words hitting him with sudden clarity. For the first time tonight, a genuine look of alarm crossed his features as he realized the potential disaster of being caught in this compromising position.

"Marry?" He hisses back, his voice dropping to a mocking whisper. "By all the gods above, you're right."

He released her and slowly took two steps backward, putting distance between their bodies.

"Good night, your highness," she said with a tone of finality before racing off to find and hide behind her mother.