Royally Filthy – Risque Royals Read Online M.K. Moore

Categories Genre: Biker, Erotic, Insta-Love, MC, Virgin Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 13
Estimated words: 11681 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 58(@200wpm)___ 47(@250wpm)___ 39(@300wpm)
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“Thank you, Mama. Everything is going to be okay,” I tell her.

“You’ll be an amazing king, Georgie. I’m sorry it’s so soon.”

“Me too, but we must move on. Our people need me to not be a scared little boy.”

“You are a man today. I’m sure the next few weeks will be the most trying of your life.”

“I’ll be fine. Will you? You’re still so young.”

“Thirty-one isn’t that young, but I imagine I will be. I know you have ears, so there was no love lost between your father and me. I’d like to fall in love someday, like you one day will. You are king now. You don’t have to marry anyone you don’t want to. No one can force you to do anything, especially to make a marriage of convenience or for power. Everything rests with you.”

“I don’t know what love is.” This is an odd conversation to be having.

“You will. When you least expect it, it will creep up on you and surprise you. Be ready for it.”

“Yes, Mama.”

“Are you ready?” she asks, adjusting my tie.

“I’m ready,” I tell her.

At least, I think I am.

Prologue

Ashlee Beaufort

November 25th, 2021

“Courtnee, you have to wake up,” I beg my unconscious sister. As a triplet, I feel like a piece of my soul is missing. I can’t feel her at all. “We won’t survive without you. Stacee, my other third, sits beside me, sobbing quietly. Our parents died not two hours ago, and Courtnee is in a medically induced coma. We have had no time to grieve, but I’m drowning. I haven’t seen my sisters in months. When Courtnee and Stacee said they wanted to attend different colleges, I agreed, not wanting to be the odd duck. I never understood why Courtnee and I couldn’t tag along with Stacee to LA. LA is where Stacee needed to be to pursue her dream. Courtnee, being a teacher, and I being an editor, could have worked from anywhere. I’ve been slowly dying for years now, and I can’t stand it anymore. Are we never going to be together again? I am all alone in New York now. After eighteen years of doing everything together, including sharing a room when we didn’t even have to, I’m alone. As the youngest of the Beaufort Three, I put on a show. I don’t want my sisters to know just how weak I am. Right now, I’m falling apart and allowing myself to. I’m always going to be a lost little girl.

My parents are dead.

My sister is probably dying.

I cling to Stacee and sob. How did we get here? I don’t want to be here. I can’t handle this. I’m not strong enough.

After the accident, Stacee and I were fine. Just some cuts and bruises, no worse for the wear, but if Courtnee dies, I know that I will too. Stacee will too. While I mourn my parents, it’s not the same. The bond isn’t the same. That’s terrible to think, but I can’t help the way I feel.

Stacee gets up, and I dry my eyes. Mama always said that crying doesn’t solve anything, even if it feels good to do it. Stacee turns the TV on in Courtnee’s sad hospital room. My morbid side can’t help wondering how many people have died in this room. The original part of the hospital has been here since just before the Civil War, so I imagine a fuck ton. The news is on. I try not to watch the news. All the death and mayhem in the world make me sad. I look up at the screen and see the most handsome man I’ve ever seen. My body tingles with something I can’t quite place.

“King George the Second of Uskia is back in the news again. You might remember he ascended the throne at just thirteen some years back. These days, when he’s not busy bringing his country into this century, he can be found in his stables. King George just purchased forty-seven horses bound for death. He’s giving them greener pastures to live out their days. How lovely is that?” the newscaster asks, and a shot of the king galloping around what looks like a tropical pasture appears on the screen.

It is mesmerizing. He looks so regal, not to mention hot atop that horse. He looks powerful. He looks like he could control me. A shiver runs through me at the thought of that man controlling me. I’ve never given any thought to men before, so it’s surprising, especially at this moment. To be thinking about myself riding that man is so, so, so wrong, but I can’t help it. I’m way too busy to be thinking about men because I’m establishing myself in my career. As the youngest editor at Gilded Page Publishing, I have a lot to prove.


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