DOUBLE PRINCES: A Twin Step Royal Romance (With BONUS Book His Tight Little Brat)

  DOUBLE PRINCES:

  A Twin Step Royal Romance

  (Erotic Romance, PI, Massive Size, MFM Ménage)

  © 2016

  By Cassandra Dee

  Want to hear about my newest stepbrother romance? Addicted to sizzling stepbrother twins? Join my mailing list at www.tinyletter.com/cassandradee and get THREE FREE BOOKS unavailable elsewhere!

  A SNEAK PEEK

  The more we saw of her, the more we liked. Or maybe “saw” is the wrong word, “taste” would be a better descriptor. Because we spent each night sipping at Summer, nuzzling the folds between her legs, licking at her nipples, suckling her clit, losing ourselves in that sweet body.

  “Ummm,” murmured the girl, stroking Hayden’s ball sack. “More.”

  And my brother and I gave it to her, my twin obligingly squatting over her head so she could suck his testicles, me positioning myself between her legs to run my dick hard into that sweet space.

  And it was like this every night and quite a few afternoons too. Because my bro and I are off the reservation at this point, we can’t get enough of the brunette. Summer’s going to be ours no matter what … even if it means giving up our crowns.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Epilogue

  Author’s Note

  Bonus Book: His Tight Little Brat

  Related Books

  PROLOGUE

  Summer

  “Oh ick,” I murmured, looking down at myself. There was blood on my shirt, just a small red spot at the hem that I’d missed, but still … blood was blood.

  My friend Jenny looked over and nodded knowingly.

  “No worries,” she consoled me, “just say it’s the sauce from one of the weird things we had at lunch.”

  I looked over at her and laughed.

  “Okay, but then I’d have to admit that I actually ate that stuff,” I said ruefully, “which is pretty hard to stomach.”

  I was referring to the food of Slovania. Their cuisine is typical Eastern European, filled with heavy meat dishes, creamy sauces, and heavily spiced cooked veggies. It would have been an awesome culinary experience if I weren’t a vegetarian but seeing that I was, I was basically subsisting on stale crackers and Slovanian wine, which fortunately is excellent.

  Jenny just laughed with me, and I was grateful for her company. My best friend and I were here as volunteer translators, part of a group doing charity work for impoverished kids with medical disabilities.

  We’re part of an overseas medical mission called Operation Smile. Doctors and nurses from the United States journey to third world countries to operate on kids with cleft palates, all free of charge. It’s a genius idea. The operation is straightforward and low-risk, and the difference to a child is enormous. Instead of having a gaping hole in their lip, the surgery repairs their palate, making things like swallowing, breathing, and speaking possible. Plus, the child looks normal once again, paving the way for a healthy, productive life. Again, the program was genius and I was honored to be part of the staff.

  Well, Jenny and I are sort-of staff. The real staff are the doctors and nurses, Jenny and I were here for college credit, student interns to help with translation from English to Slovanian and back again. Hopefully, our language skills would bridge the gap between the American medical personnel and local doctors learning operating techniques.

  But in the meantime, I still had this red spot on my shirt that to my eyes, was unmistakably blood.

  “Jen, I’m going to head over to the washroom and try and get this stain out. You know how I feel about this stuff,” I said, wrinkling my nose.

  “Oh sure, meet you at the canteen,” she replied. “I’ll save you something good to eat,” she said with a wink.

  That only made me sigh again. More likely, there’d be nothing vegetarian and I’d have to resort to another dinner of bread and cooked goat’s milk, which actually wasn’t bad … if you added about ten packets of sugar.

  But in the meantime, the stain. Sighing, I strolled into the locker room, checking to make sure no one was there. Our accommodations were Spartan and there was one restroom for the whole crew, male and female. So it was generally a good idea to scope out who was there before doing your business.

  Satisfied that the coast was clear, I locked the door and whipped off my t-shirt, leaving my bra on. Unfortunately, the bralet was looking worse for the wear too, the edges a little grimy, the lace sticky and hot. What the hell, it was sweltering and there was no one around. Might as well hand wash that too.

  Snapping the clasp, I let the bra slide down my arms and took a deep breath, looking at myself in the mirror. Hmm, brown hair, nice shoulders, and an even nicer rack. Yep, I’m curvy and my crowning jewels are my girls, Double Ds with a pale pink nipples, my boobs creamy and pendulous in the dim light of the bathroom.

  But right, that stain. With a frown, I got busy. Blasting the water in the sink, I leaned over and began scrubbing the cotton, pumping soap from the dispenser liberally, lathering up the worn fabric. The spot was getting fainter, more of a light pink than deep red now, but still visible. Gross.

  Suddenly, a shower cranked on, the creak loud and unsettling. What the? I’d thought I was alone in the locker room and clasped the wet t-shirt to my breasts nervously, aware that there was someone else here.

  Or two someones in this case. Out of nowhere, twin forms appeared around the corner, coming to a halt when they saw me.

  “Um, hi,” I said weakly, throwing a smile at Holt and Hayden. Or should I say Doctors Holt and Hayden. While most of the docs and nurses volunteering their time were middle-aged, Holt and Hayden were two recent medical school grads who’d joined the mission at the last minute.

  And Jenny and I had practically swooned the first day during introductions. Six four each, with coal-black hair and penetrating blue eyes, the twins looked more like male models than guys with stethoscopes and prescription pads.

  “Oh my god, do you think …?” my friend had giggled.

  I knew what she was asking.

  “No,” I said, “they’d never be interested in us. Come on Jen, guys like that are always taken and besides, they never go for girls like us. We’re round and they probably date model-types.”

  “Oh pooh,” Jenny replied with a pout. “Well, you never know,” she said with another giggle, her voice trailing off again.

  But since that first day, our paths hadn’t crossed with the men, all of us busy in our respective positions. So it was unexpected to meet … especially like this, topless, clutching a wet t-shirt to my breasts.

  “Um, hi,” I stuttered. “I thought no one was in here.”

  Holt raised a dark eyebrow.

&nb
sp; “I could see why you’d think that, since it’s the middle of the day,” he rumbled. “Not many people shower at lunchtime.”

  I flushed, only half-hearing. Both men wore only towels wrapped around their waists, their abs and pecs on display, bronzed like Greek gods come to life. A tremor ran through me, delicious and shivery, my secret space moistening.

  “I guess you were going to shower,” I said weakly. “Let me get out of here,” I babbled, pressing the t-shirt to my breasts. “I just need to get this shirt on, hold on.”

  But there was no way to put it on without flashing them. So I continued to stand dumbly, staring, taking in the sheer male beauty before me. Carved chests with defined six-packs, plus heavy arms leading to strong, graceful fingers. With their MDs, the twins were the entire package, brains, brawn and looks.

  But instead of turning their backs, Hayden did something unexpected.

  “Why don’t we help you with that?” he said with a smile. “You’re Summer, right?”

  “Um yeah, I’m Summer Miller, an intern,” I said with a weak smile. “My friend and I, we’re here getting college credits for the experience. Translating, I mean. We’re translators,” I said, cursing as I listened to myself. I’d always thought I was a good at my job because of the fluidity of my thoughts, words came naturally to me, but listening to me now you’d think I had a speech impediment.

  “Well Summer,” said Holt smoothly. “Why don’t we give you a hand?”

  I figured they would toss me an extra t-shirt, maybe turn their backs as I scrambled for a towel, but instead both men approached me, their massive builds consuming my field of vision, making the small space seem even smaller.

  “You’ve got blood in your hair,” remarked Hayden, running a hand through the tips of my brunette locks. And sure enough, his fingers came away smudged with red. Oh gross, my stomach started convulsing.

  That’s the thing about this particular trip. Although I’m an ace with linguistics, I’m squeamish about cutting people open, and it was tough translating in the operating room, every day a challenge. But now the blood was smeared in my hair and my stomach heaved.

  “Uck,” I moaned, suddenly feeling faint. And the twins must have seen the color drain from my face, my legs going weak, because they caught me in their arms.

  “Hold up,” murmured one, “we gotcha.”

  “Let’s help her rinse that out,” said the other, gently positioning me against his chest.

  It felt so good, so right, leaning against a wall of muscle. I was now almost delirious with … what exactly? Definitely nausea, but if I was being honest, there was also arousal at being around these gorgeous men.

  And Hayden and Holt were gentle yet powerful. They maneuvered me in front of the sink, bent over at the waist so that they could run warm water through my hair. I was in a daze now, almost a dream.

  “God, she’s beautiful,” said one from above me, running his hands through my locks, massaging my scalp.

  “Mmm, amazing,” agreed the other.

  It felt so good to have those fingers rubbing away the stress that I gave a deep sigh of relaxation, of contentment, only to hear male chuckles above me.

  “Maybe we should do more,” suggested a deep voice and sure enough, I felt strong fingers move to my neck next, massaging the tension from the muscles there, going even lower to squeeze my shoulders, rubbing my back. Pure bliss crept over me, like I was floating in a sea of warm goo.

  Suddenly, the sink went crazy and water blasted, spraying me in the face, getting in my ears, up my nose, making me choke and sputter.

  “Ack!” I gasped, making garbled, incoherent noises. It was the plumbing in this drat Slovanian camp left over from the Cold War era. You never knew if things were going to work, or in this case, over-work. I was now a mess, completely drenched, my eyes closed as I hacked and coughed.

  “Poor baby,” growled Holt. “Why don’t we help you out?”

  And with that he swept me up into his arms, bringing me over to the showers. The water was still running, pounding onto the cement ground and the door swung closed around the three of us. Suddenly, I realized where I was. In the shower with two gorgeous, nearly-nude men, myself practically naked and soaking wet.

  “I shouldn’t be here,” I gasped. “This is so against camp rules.”

  The men shared an amused smile.

  “But we’re not at camp, baby girl,” growled Hayden. “This is a medical mission for adults, not kids.”

  “But still,” I panted, trying to wipe some of the moisture out of my eyes. “I shouldn’t be here.” The spray from the sink must have gone straight up my nose, it tingled and stung, making me snort unattractively again.

  But the men chuckled low and deep.

  “No worries girlie,” said Holt smoothly. “We’re not going to do anything but get you clean. Besides, you can’t go out there the way you are now,” he added reasonably.

  And I looked down at myself. That was true. I looked like a bedraggled mouse at this point, my clothes drenched and hair plastered to my head like a skullcap. With a sigh, I gave in.

  “Okay, what then?” I asked nervously. “Do you have an extra towel or something?”

  “Extra towel,” chuckled one brother, “we got more than that. We’re going to help you get clean.”

  “Get clean?” I gasped. “Wait … what?” I wasn’t exactly at my most articulate, my mouth gaping open with delicious shock.

  “Just relax,” growled Holt, “you’re gonna feel good,” and with that, a big hand gently pulled away the shirt that I was still clutching to my chest, revealing my girls, the generous curves like tasty scoops of vanilla ice cream. Immediately, my nipples peaked under their gaze, the rosy buds rising to attention.

  “Double Ds, aren’t they, chickie?” ground out one man. “Gorgeous,” he said, reaching a hand out to jiggle one slightly, weigh it in his hand.

  His brother merely grunted, his eyes glued to my boobs as if they were the Holy Grail, water to a thirsty man.

  “We need more,” he rasped, and suddenly I felt big fingers pull at the waistband of my shorts. Since starting the medical mission, I hadn’t been dressing well, sticking instead to a camp counselor type uniform of t-shirts and shorts. So it was simple to tug the waistband over my hips and down my legs, leaving me in nothing but the tiniest pink g-string.

  And now my cheeks flamed because on the outside, I’m your standard intern, hair in a ponytail, no make-up, cheery and helpful, a real plain Jane. But underneath I was wearing French lace lingerie, my get-up straight out of an erotic film. The panties I had on were from Amour Del Coeur, an upscale boutique in my hometown, and I’d saved for months to buy a couple pieces, stealthily tucking the fine lace into my suitcase.

  And judging from the hungry eyes of the twins, it was totally worth it. They ate me up, the tiny sliver of silk disappearing between my cheeks, highlighting their pale whiteness, the creamy moons juicy and tender. And the front, well, the silk was already drenched, damp from a mixture of shower water and my own personal juices.

  What happened next though, surprised me. Instead of ripping off the panties, Hayden delicately pulled the silk aside so that my pussy was exposed, the pinkness gleaming, wet and pulsing, my clit hard and poking out from between my lips.

  I flushed, the red running from my bosom to spread over my chest. Oh god, what must they think? I barely breathed, standing perfectly still, letting them look as my cunny moistened beneath their hungry gazes, a small drip of cream making its way down my thigh, tickling, tantalizing.

  “God, you’re beautiful,” growled one man, sinking to his knees next to me.

  “Gorgeous,” agreed the other, positioning himself on the other side.

  And what happened next, I can never explain. Wantonly, I lifted a leg, propping it up against the wall of the shower stall, baring my cunny to them, letting the men get a good look at my cunt. With deft fingers, I parted my folds, holding myself open, letting them gaze up my hole, my c
lit hard and straight, my pink walls pulsing and throbbing under their aroused eyes.

  “Kiss it,” I breathed. “I need it.”

  And both men were on me at once, running their lips and tongues over my secret spot. Hayden alternately licked and sucked my clit, playing with my nub, while Holt lapped at my hole, making his tongue into a spear and pushing it into my vaginal channel, sampling the cream that was running like a river now.

  And I sighed, throwing my head back, closing my eyes. It was almost as if I were a princess, attended to by two manservants doing my every bidding. Two handsome, huge, sculpted manservants, devouring me hungrily … who were also aroused.

  Because the twins’ towels were long gone, revealing what could only be described as massive clubs of iron. The donkeys were awesome, fifteen inches at least, hard, hot, and huge, poking out from their waists like swords. What would it be like to ride one, to feel it deep inside me, to feel that hardness reaching to my innermost sanctuary, making me a woman?

  And I sighed at the thought, my knees going weak as masculine fingers trailed up and down my limbs, massaging my calves, my arms, my waist.

  “Oh yeah,” rumbled a deep voice again.

  “Absolutely,” agreed the other.

  I relaxed as the men lowered me to the floor. They’d put together some towels to make a soft mat on the cement and I writhed and gasped, feeling the soft terry against my bare skin. Instinctively, my legs parted, the pink gleam beckoning.

  Suddenly, I realized just where I was, coming to for an instant in the locker room.

  “Holt, Hayden,” I said, my voice wavering. “I’m not sure.”

  “Not sure of what?” asked one man.

  But it was too late because all thoughts flew out of my head as they closed in on me. Their masts invaded my field of vision and I could only look on in wonder as they moved forward on their knees, the erect poles pointed straight at me, making my cunny run with cream, my mouth growing suddenly dry.

  “Please,” I said breathily. I wasn’t even sure what I was asking at this point, but they seemed to understand.