Unroyally Yours

"Emma... relax a bit, you're too tight," He murmured softly, his voice strained but filled with a surprising tenderness.

His hand moved to brush her hair back, his fingers gentle as they grazed her skin, a stark contrast to the intensity that pulsed between them.

Emma's breath came in shallow gasps as she lay beneath him her body tense, her mind racing with the whirlwind of emotions flooding through her. She could hardly process the intensity of the moment, overwhelmed by the unfamiliar sensations.

"Are you a virgin?," He whispered near her ear, his breath warm against her skin. His tone wasn't mocking, just...surprised. He paused for a moment, his hand caressing her cheek, as though giving her time to process.

Emma's eyes fluttered, locking onto the reflection above them. In the dim light, the mirror on the ceiling revealed their entwined bodies, and she watched the scene unfold like it was happening to someone else.

Her heart raced, but beneath the uncertainty, there was a sense of surrender-something she hadn't expected.

How did it come this? Oh yeah Emma remembered, this was all part of her plan, her grand scheme of having a child for herself...

---------------------------------------------------

Emma Dee has it all figured it out.

She is young, Stunningly Beautiful, Brainy, and Single Since Birth.

She was killing it a work, she social media is updated on the latest trends. She had enough stamps on her passport to make a flight attendant jealous, and her social calendar was so packed she practically needed a personal assistant to keep up.

Yet, every family gathering was the same: A relentless matchmaking attempts disguised as innocent conversation. A long list of questions here and there;

"When will you get a boyfriend?"

"When will you have someone? It would be too risky to have a child so late in the game."

"When do you plan on settling down?"

"Your time is tickling down..."

Even her grandmother will begin with a look that was half-hope-half-scheming.

"Emma, darling, You're not getting any younger. When are you going to bring a nice man in our family gathering, the man who would take care of you?"

Emma would chuckle, throw in a charming deflection like, "Oh Grandma, Nowadays no want's to be a Disney Princess anymore. I am One independent woman..." and skillfully redirect the conversation to safer topics-like Aunt Susan's questionable casserole choices. But there was no denying it: the pressure was starting to build.