Novels by Her Majesty in Red

DIANAMy head felt like it had been split open with a hammer.The moment I cracked my eyes open, bright sunlight stabbed straight into my skull. A low, pathetic groan escaped my throat as I rolled over in the massive guest bed, clutching my temples. My mouth tasted like stale alcohol and regret. Every heartbeat sent a fresh wave of nausea rolling through me.Hangover from hell.I hated this part. Always did. The night before—laughing, dancing, shots with Roxy—felt like a distant dream. Now I was just angry. Angry at the light, angry at the pounding in my head, angry at the world for existing. When I drank too much, the morning after turned me into a raging bitch, and I didn’t even try to fight it.I slapped my hand on the bedside table, searching blindly for my phone. Nothing. Where the hell was it?“Maid!” I shouted, voice raspy and irritated. “Get in here!”The door opened almost immediately. Stella hurried in carrying a tray with a bowl of soup, some water, and painkillers. She lo

ROXETTEChandler’s hands never stopped their expert massage on my breasts, kneading them with deep, rhythmic pressure that made my toes curl in the warm water. I was panting, moaning softly, completely lost in the feeling of his strong fingers working my sensitive flesh while his thick cock rested hot and heavy between my thighs.But the deep soreness in my pussy still lingered.Chandler seemed to read my body perfectly.His right hand slowly trailed downward from my breast, gliding over my stomach and slipping beneath the surface of the water. I tensed for a moment as his fingers brushed the sensitive skin of my inner thighs.“Wait..”“Easy, baby girl,” he whispered against my ear, voice low and gentle. “I’ve got you.”Two thick fingers pressed lightly against my swollen folds, not pushing inside, not trying to penetrate me, just resting there with warm, steady pressure. Then he began to move.It wasn’t fingering in the usual sense. It felt more like a careful, intimate massage.His

ROXETTEThe en-suite bathroom was enormous, all marble and glass with a deep, luxurious bathtub that could easily fit four people. Chandler had already run the water, filling it with hot, steaming water and a hint of something expensive and masculine that smelled like sandalwood and citrus. He helped me step in first, his strong hands steadying my shaky legs as I lowered myself into the warm water with a soft hiss.Chandler slid in behind me, his large body settling against the back of the tub. Before I could protest or move away, he pulled me back until I was sitting directly on his lap, my back pressed to his broad chest. The moment I settled, I felt it—his thick, hard cock nestled firmly between my thighs, the heavy length resting right against my sore folds, the head nudging teasingly close to my entrance.I gasped, hands gripping the edges of the tub. “Chandler…”“Shh,” he murmured against my ear, voice low and lazy. “Just relax, baby girl. Let me take care of you.”His hands s

ROXETTEMy gaze landed on the clock on the nightstand.12:07 PM.“Shit!” I gasped, bolting upright so fast that the room spun for a second. Diana. I had completely forgotten about her. She had been passed out drunk last night, carried away by the servants before Chandler dismissed everyone. What if she woke up and wondered where I was? What if she sees this!Panic surged through me. I threw the sheets off and swung my legs over the edge of the bed, only to nearly collapse the moment my feet touched the floor. My thighs trembled violently, weak and shaky from the brutal pounding Chandler had given me last night. My pussy ached sharply with every small movement—swollen, tender, and still leaking a faint trace of his cum. I hissed through my teeth, grabbing the edge of the bed for support.“Damn it, Chandler…” I muttered under my breath, blaming him even as heat rushed to my face at the memory of how many times I had cum screaming his name.I tried to stand properly and dress, but m

ROXETTE Morning light filtered softly through the heavy curtains of Chandler’s private suite, casting a warm, golden glow across the silk sheets. I woke up slowly, every inch of my body deliciously sore in ways I had never experienced before.My thighs ached, my hips carried faint bruises from his possessive grip, and between my legs… God, my pussy throbbed with a deep, lingering burn that made even the slightest shift of my legs send a sharp reminder of how roughly he had claimed me last night.I turned my head carefully on the pillow and froze.Chandler was still asleep beside me, his large, powerful frame taking up most of the bed. One strong arm was draped possessively over my waist, fingers splayed across my bare skin as if even in sleep he refused to let me go. His chest rose and fell in slow, steady breaths, the hard planes of muscle relaxed but still imposing. He looked… breathtaking.Not like the boys I had dated before—Josh with his cocky grins and childish games, or the

ROXETTEMy orgasm crashed over me like a tidal wave. My walls spasmed violently around his cock, gushing hard, squirting around his thick shaft as my whole body convulsed. I screamed his name, back arching off the chaise, tears pouring down my face from the intensity. My pussy kept fluttering and milking him, soaking us both even more.But Chandler still didn’t stop.He fucked me straight through it, prolonging the orgasm until it bordered on painful overstimulation. His grip on my throat and hip tightened possessively, fingers digging into my skin hard enough to leave marks.“That’s it. Keep cumming. Keep soaking my cock. This is what happens when you test me, baby girl. When you make me jealous and then come home smelling like another man.”He suddenly pulled out, making me whine at the empty feeling, only to flip me onto all fours again. He yanked my hips back and slammed back inside in one brutal motion, fucking me doggy-style with even more force. One hand fisted my hair, yanking

JULIATime had slipped away so quietly.One moment I was ten weeks pregnant with barely-there nausea and a small, firm bump. The next, I was twenty-one weeks along, more than halfway through this twin pregnancy, and my body had transformed in ways I could hardly believe when I looked in the mirror.My belly was unmistakably round and full now, heavy with our two growing boys. It sat prominently in front of me, stretching every shirt and dress I owned. My breasts were fuller, my hips wider, and even my ankles occasionally swelled if I stood too long. But the biggest surprise, the one that still left me staring at my reflection in pleasant disbelief, was my face.I had been terrified at first.I’d heard so many stories from other women: pregnancy making skin dull, causing breakouts, dark spots, or that exhausted, puffy look. I had braced myself for it, convinced I would look tired and unattractive as the months went on. But instead, something magical had happened.My skin glowed.It was

MARCUSThe storm had passed.Julia’s breathing had evened out against my chest, the last of her quiet tears drying on her cheeks. She was no longer tense or sulking, just soft and pliant in my arms, her body finally relaxing after the emotional rollercoaster. I kept one hand gently rubbing slow circles over her rounded belly, feeling the subtle firmness where our twin sons were growing, while my other arm stayed wrapped securely around her shoulders.She was calm now. Coaxed. Safe.I pressed another kiss to her forehead, then to the tip of her nose, and finally to her slightly swollen lips. She let out a tiny, contented sigh and tilted her head up for more. I obliged happily, kissing her slow and sweet, tasting the salt of her earlier tears mixed with the warmth that was purely her.“You okay now, baby?” I murmured against her mouth.She nodded, her voice small but steady. “Yeah… I’m sorry I got so worked up.”“Don’t apologize,” I whispered, brushing my lips across her cheek. “You’re

MARCUSI lay beside her on the bed, my hand gently rubbing slow circles over her back and the swell of her belly where our twin sons rested. Julia had pulled the blanket over her head again, but I could still hear the quiet, shaky breaths and the occasional sniffle. Each soft sob twisted something deep in my chest.I hated seeing her like this.“Baby…” I murmured, keeping my voice low and steady. I carefully tugged the blanket down just enough to see her tear-streaked face. Her eyes were red and puffy, and she refused to look at me. “Come on, Julia. Talk to me. I can’t fix it if I don’t know what’s hurting you.”She stayed silent for a long moment, her arms wrapped tightly around her bump as if protecting our boys from whatever was upsetting her. I shifted closer, careful not to put any pressure on her stomach, and pressed a soft kiss to her temple.“I’m right here,” I whispered. “I’m not leaving this bed until you tell me what happened. Was it the nursery? Did I place something wrong

JULIAThe nursery was almost complete.I had spent most of the afternoon resting on the terrace, occasionally calling out small adjustments while Marcus and the team worked tirelessly. Everything looked beautiful — the blue and green accents, the soft bedding, the mobiles gently turning above the cribs. I should have felt happy and excited. Instead, a heavy, bitter feeling had settled in my chest the moment I saw them.Marcus was standing near the hallway outside the nursery, talking to a woman I didn’t recognize. She was tall, elegant, and dressed in a sleek black blouse and pencil skirt — clearly a designer. She held a tablet in one hand and was laughing brightly at something Marcus had just said. Her laugh was light and melodic, the kind that carried easily down the corridor.What made my stomach twist was the way she casually reached out and touched his arm—a soft, familiar slap, followed by her fingers lingering for a second too long as she leaned in to point at something on her

JULIAThe next morning, the manor buzzed with quiet activity.The large delivery van had arrived early, and Marcus’s men, along with a team of professional movers and interior specialists he had hired, were carefully unloading everything we had purchased the day before. Crates, boxes, and carefully wrapped furniture pieces filled the wide driveway. I watched from the comfort of a cushioned lounge chair on the terrace, a soft blanket draped over my legs and a cup of ginger tea in my hands.Marcus had been very clear: I was not to lift a finger or move around too much.“You carried our sons for eleven weeks already,” he had said firmly when I tried to stand up earlier. “Today, you sit. You direct. And I will do everything you ask.”So that was exactly what happened.I sat like a queen on the terrace, my very visible twin bump resting comfortably on my lap, while Marcus turned into the most patient, devoted helper I had ever seen. He didn’t complain once. Not when I changed my mind about

JULIAMarcus arranged for everything to be carefully loaded into a separate black van that had arrived discreetly at the back entrance of the mall. His men supervised the loading with quiet efficiency, making sure nothing was damaged and that the more delicate items were secured properly.I watched from a comfortable bench near the exit, my hand resting on my prominent twin bump. Marcus stood beside me, one arm wrapped securely around my waist, supporting my weight as I leaned into him.“You didn’t have to rent the whole mall,” I said again, though my voice was soft and grateful this time.He pressed a kiss to the side of my head. “I did. And I’d do it again tomorrow if you wanted to go back for more.”Once the van was fully loaded and on its way to the manor, Marcus turned to me with that intense, protective gaze I had come to love so much.“We’re not going straight home,” he said. “You’ve been on your feet most of the day, even if you tried to hide it. I made reservations for dinner