Tray Fresh Prince Novels & Stories

"Nice to meet you." "And the-" he gestured to the twins but was stopped by them. "Fred," said one of the twins. "We want to be introduced last." continued the other. These guys are embarrassing. "Very well," Fred nodded and gestured to the prince, who I already started to dislike. "This here is Prince Ace Feradin from the Kingdom of Tordis. Please forgive him from his rudeness earlier." Instead of bowing, prince Ace nodded his head once. "By the way, that's PRINCE Ace for YOU"

Never. He bit my lower lip in answer—hard enough to draw blood, soft enough to make me shudder. He drank it in. When he pulled away, his eyes were darker, pupils blown wide, only to whisper against my mouth, “Never ever, my prince.” And before I could respond, he spun me around in a breath. My chest collided with the glass wall, cold as the night. “Now,” his breath was fire against my ear, pushing his hard dick into my ass, pulling out a strangled moan from my chest. “Be a good prince… and let me claim my prize.”

She had always wanted the freedom to do as she pleased but now that she had it she was clueless as to where to start. -Friendship Jake went inside the fast food place for the tenth time to fetch yet another milkshake. The Prince loved martial arts and had been practising for his presentation in order toreceive his Trigger Sword. To make sure he could practise for days on end he made sure to use the last thing that had fed his body before his death. The last few hundred years he had been keeping him strong, healthy and immortal on chocolate milkshake. The last one he ordered was a peppermint milkshake; it was her

Sanura walked into the room without a word or even looking at Princess Freda and put the tray on the small table on the floor lounge in the corner. Princess Freda noticed that the tray have enough food for two with two glasses. After Sanura left, prince Ra positioned a pillow at the table. “Please join me,” he asked, showing his hand to the floor. Happy for some company, Princess Freda took a pillow and sat across from him, waiting for him to eat first. “How was your day,” Princess Freda asked, hungry for some sort of entertainment. Prince Ra does not answer her and just smiled while eating.

Asahd smiled and stared out his window. “Would you like some champagne, Sir?” a flight attendant asked and the Prince replied. “Sure. Thank you,” he grabbed a glass but then stopped the attendant. “Please is there alcohol in this?” “Yes, sir.” “Oh, thank you but I’d rather some orange juice,” he put the glass back and the attendant nodded. “Right away, sir,” and with that, she left. He looked at a sleeping Saïda again and leaned in to kiss her shoulder. Then he took her hand in his.

What exactly is he up to now? The officials laugh, humoring him. “And what would you like to offer instead, Your Highness?” He doesn’t look at them. His gaze is fixed squarely on me as he answers. “I’d like to change tradition, and instead of feeding them pudding, I’d like to feed them strawberries instead.” My blood runs cold. The officials chuckle and nod. “As you wish, Your Highness.” A maid hurries forward with a silver bowl, piled high with glistening red strawberries. My pulse quickens as the prince takes the bowl in his hands, his expression unreadable.

He asked. "Please." And he walked to where it sat on a table and carried the tray, laying it gently on the bed, then sitting across from her, with the tray between them. It was a breakfast of Orange juice with cakes alongside a bowl of blueberries. The princess loved her blueberries. "We will have to be careful, so we don't stain the sheets. Madam Kayla wouldn't like that." "Madam Kayla is the huffy woman with the big bossoms?"

Prince said, “That's not a problem, I won't offer you what you don't like, but your favorite,” Jessica said, “When do you want us to go out,” Prince asked, “Is today convenient for you,?“ Jessica asked, “I'm not busy today, we can make It a date,” Prince said, “Can you freshen up now, so that we can go on time,” Jessica asked, “Yeah,” Prince said, and he stood up, walked Into the washroom, bath, dressed up, and he said, “here we go, Shall we,?“ Prince said,

“You have a visitor, sir.” “I’m not expecting anyone at this moment. And Storm might be stuck in traffic.” “Sir, it’s a prince.” A what now? Then a well-built blond in a black suit walked in. “May I present, His Royal Highness, Prince Camren Thayer Aleksei Keoni Gattewarde Braynburd of Triberis Capria.” “That’s a mouthful, Lud,” That must be the Prince in a well-tailored blue suit and light purple tie dismissing the blond, his protective detail.

I grab my clothes- which oddly enough smelled like pine and cedar-, shove them on fast, and pocket my things. The elevator ride down feels too long, my reflection staring back from mirrored walls. When the doors open, I’m in a quiet lobby, modern and minimal- marble counters, dim lighting, not a single sound. Then I see it. A small plaque beside the elevator: PH. Penthouse. Of course. Must be the damn creep from last night. Damn trusties. I step outside, the early morning air slapping my face awake. The city hums faintly in the distance, half asleep, half alive.