Royal dream

As a child, Monica used to dream of castles, knights, princes and princesses. She most often found herself smiling at the thought of having all those servants at her beckon. To be kissed very passionately (even though at the time she hadn't known what passion was) and she often felt that tingling on her toes as she did. It brought her joy. It brought her peace. It brought her innate peace. She was happy, content and quite a dreamer
But life had not been fair.;Life had tossed her about like a ship in the midst of a virile storm.
Twenty-two years much later, she drew a deep breathe before rising amidst applause as she went to honour her call and receive the award for the best business woman. It seemed all glamour and glitz seeing her standing there in her lapis lazuli floor length gown with sleeveless gem lined straps. and a semi belt to emphasize her burst area; her matching high heeled sandals and her chignon encased in sparse jewels. But she knew it had not been; warring in a field that was solely masculine and emerging victorious. She had her bruises and scars to show. She had her pains to conceal. She had her family and friends lost on her way. So many regrets, so many nightmares; yet.... She was here and that was all that mattered. Behind that smile, bitterness raged. But as the camera flashed at her consecutively, she knew the night was still young and that she was probably going to get more bitterness and pain before it passed on. Gregory McKenell was equally a storm feared in the business world; and she had made the costly mistake of sleeping with him. Now she was paying for keeping her ego and refusing his every other advances. To the utter chagrin of the man himself. She cared and then tried not to. She had fooled herself to think he was her prince charming, her knight in shinning armour. But he was moreover her bane in life.
True to her words, the night turned older and worse, even worst. Syba suddenly needed to stamp her foot, crack something, break something,pull her hair and scream loudly. But most of all, she needed to melt into his arms. Taste his enchanting lips, feel his ensnaring warmth and revel in his deep and intoxicating primal urges.Greg was a strong man, in and out. She knew. She was his adversary in bed and business. She reveled and cringed as well from it all. She was on her way home, when she felt strong arms grab her, clasp her mouth shut and the familiar intoxicating scent of him assailed her. She sagged against him and welcomed his ravaging kiss. Welcomed his ravaging touches.Until she felt her back against the dark wall, her legs spread out and wrapped around his strong torso and his member impaled right inside her. Suffering her deliciously. His lips surfing her throat. She was his. She was marked. She was going nowhere.
Once breathes were savagely caught, the quarrelsome silence ensued yet again but this time, he wasn't letting her go. Into the car he dragged her. She followed helplessly. Once inside and the car back on the road, her body hummed and thrummed until she threatened to shatter. The moment she broke up for air, she noticed the car had stopped and that she was infront of a chapel. He caught her glance for a moment and dragged her out of the car, all the way down the aisle into the chapel. The wedding ceremony was done and gone without her catching her breathe. A solid tumour of white diamond resting on her finger. She was his. He was hers. For the keeping.
Legs entwined, bodies joined together in heated and fervent pleasure and mating, he whispered into her ears and her entire body sang. She was home. In her palace, with her prince - and perhaps, her servants.
Life had afterall, granted her her royal wish but had taken its sweet time. It's okay. She had it. That was all that mattered.
She smiled and gave herself up to shatter into very tiny glowing smithereens of love.