Kian: Prince of Sorenia (Dirty Princes)

by Imani King

  “What is the point?” I ask.

  “You. You and Abby. She has to know. I don’t want her getting hurt. That asshole Roger just broke her world, and I won’t have you come in behind him and making it worse.”

  “Roger?” I ask. “Is that the guy who put his hands on her when I got here?”

  “Yes,” she says.

  “She dated him?”

  “They were engaged.”

  “Seems like a douche. A real man never treats a woman like that. When I came in, he was pushing her against the counter. Abusive asshole.” I take a sip of my beer and let the alcohol warm up my body.

  “Well on that, at least we agree. He is in fact a total douche. I don’t know why she was with him.”

  “Start point,” I say, holding up my beer but she leaves me hanging shaking her head. “I’ll tell her.”

  “When?” she presses.

  “Soon, I just need a little time. I want to work this out.”

  “How much time?”

  “I don’t know,” I say.

  “Not good enough. Tell her or I will. You have to promise me.” Her green eyes sparkle when she speaks to me. They’re unusual, those eyes. Deep green and outlined by ridiculously long lashes. They stand out against the deep brown of her skin. I see the strength, the compassion, the protectiveness—and it’s very easy for me to see what Aidan sees in her. She’s all fire—and those royal women we know are boring ghosts compared to a woman like Eva.

  Taking a long drink buys me some time. I need a plan, and I don’t have one.

  “Let me get an apartment here and get her settled,” I say. “I’ll tell her then. Within a week.”

  “Fine,” she says. “I guess that’s good enough.”

  I’m surprised she went for that, but I’ll take it.

  “I appreciate that you care about her,” I say. “You’re a good friend.”

  “You have no idea, playboy.” She sighs, exasperated.

  “That’s the old me,” I say, trying to deny it. “I’m not a playboy anymore.”

  “Whatever. You keep telling yourself that.” She looks calmer now, but only just barely.

  I smirk at her and finish off the last of my beer. “So, why don’t you bust Aidan out of his arranged marriage? He’d do it for you, I think.”

  She rolls her eyes. “You’re impossible.”

  I grin and shrug. “Come on, why not? You two clicked,” I say. “I promised now, and you need to promise me back. Aidan’s an asshole, but he’s the only brother I’ve got. I love him. And he needs someone who actually loves him. It’s only fair that you try too.”

  “Fair? Fair is being upfront with a girl before you marry her,” she retorts.

  “Well in my defense the marriage was more than a little bit of a surprise to all of us.”

  “No excuses, rich boy,” she says. “You did it, and you have to fix it.”

  “I’m here, aren’t I? I’m going to fix it the best way I know how.”

  “With a sham of a story about having to live together,” she says. “What is up with that? Why? You can have dozens of girls every one of them just as pretty as Abby. Why?”

  “I like her,” I shrug. “And there aren’t many women as pretty as Abby.”

  “Bullshit,” she says, staring into my eyes. I look away to avoid her gaze. I don’t want to be that open with her yet. “Aidan thinks you think you’re in love.”

  “Apparently Aidan talks too damn much,” I say. I swallow hard. The word has crossed my mind more than once. It feels painful to admit it—like Abby might disappear in a puff of smoke if I say it out loud.

  “Don’t you hurt her, you hear me?”

  I nod. I want to say more but a lump is in my throat, and I don’t trust my voice. I do think I love Abby. I’m happy when I’m with her. I feel things I’ve never felt before. A connection, a meaning, she’s a reason to wake up in the morning. She’s so much more than sex to me. More than I know how to put into words.

  Eva stares at me, waiting. I know she expects an answer. Swallowing, hard, I nod.

  “Right,” I manage to say.

  She rolls her eyes and sighs as if she expected nothing better. The disappointment she is displaying reminds me of everyone who’s ever sneered at me or doubted me. Anger flashes hot, and I want nothing more than to prove her wrong. And I want to piss her off. “So seriously, why don’t you go save Aidan from his arranged marriage?”

  She glares then rolls her eyes again, which is infuriating.

  “Some of us,” she says, her words dripping with disdain, “Realize our roles in this world. Some of us are grown-ups.”

  “And what about love?” I snap.

  “What about it? You can’t love her!” she yells. “One, I don’t think you’re capable of it. You’re entirely too narcissistic for love. Two, she’s not right for you. It will never work, and if it is real, you need to tell her the truth. Love starts with truth—not lies.”

  Every word is a sharp knife slicing me apart. It shreds me and my anger. I’m bare before her and myself. I can’t hide from what I’m feeling any longer.

  “We’ll see,” I say.

  “You promised, you tell her or I will.”

  I nod meeting her glare. There’s no way I’m going to back down. Three feet apart our standoff continues neither of us giving ground. The longer we stand here, the more determined I am.

  “I will keep my promise, keep yours,” I say.

  “Of course you will, none of this costs you anything. Her, it will break her heart. Somehow, someway I will make you pay if you do that. Believe me; I’ll figure out a way.”

  I admire her determination. I’m not sure even Aidan would stand up for me the way Eva is for Abby and he’s my brother. Her words hurt, but I know it’s because I see the truth in them.

  She leaves walking into her bedroom and shutting the door. As it clicks into place, my determination sets in with just as much finality as that closing door. Eva may be closing a door, but I’m opening one. A glimmer of a life I could have, one with Abby, is all I can see now. It’s what I want, and I don’t care what it takes or who it pisses off, I’m going to make her mine.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  I yawn and drop my keys. It’s been a really long day.

  Exhaustion lies heavy, making me feel fuzzy. All I want right now is to collapse into my bed and not wake up until tomorrow. Even bending down to retrieve the keys takes a monumental amount of effort. Kian and I have been cohabiting for a few days now, and it’s going better than I expected. He’s nice, clean, does more than his fair share of household chores, and I can’t deny I like looking at him.

  The door finally opens, and I enter the apartment at last. I set my books down then, fully planning on heading to bed, am stopped by Kian. He’s standing in the middle of the living room with a wide grin on his face and a set of keys dangling from one finger.

  “What?” I ask sharply.

  “I’ve got something to show you,” he replies, unperturbed by my sharp response.

  “Kian, I’m exhausted, can it wait until tomorrow.”

  “No,” he says, remaining cheerful. He walks over and takes my hand. “Come along, wife.”

  I close my eyes, count to three, then let him pull me out the door. He even has a cab waiting for us outside. We climb in, and the driver takes off without a word.

  “Where are we going?” I ask.

  “It’s a surprise,” Kian smiles then looks out the window.

  We drive through Glasgow until we reach one of the higher end neighborhoods. This isn’t an area that Eva and I could afford an apartment in no matter how nice it would be. It’s a beautiful part of the city, one of my favorites actually, but damn expensive too. The cab pulls to a stop in front of a beautiful building. Kian hands the man some money then jumps out. He rushes around the car to open the door for me. It makes me smile. No matter how much of a bad boy he is, there’s still a streak of chivalry in him.

  He takes my hand hel
ping me out and onto the sidewalk. I turn a slow circle admiring the neighborhood and view. It’d be nice to live here. Almost a dream come true. Be that as it may, I’m too tired to play along for long, so best to get things moving.

  “What now?” I ask.

  Kian smiles and motions towards the front door of the building. When we walk in a doorman greets us with a smile. Kian pushes a button for the elevator, and we wait quietly. I’m feeling awkward and out of place. The doorman surely is going to ask us what we’re doing here any minute followed by a please vacate the premise. He doesn’t come over though, and the elevator doors ding then slide open. I watch the doorman while waiting for the doors to close. He sees me looking smiles and waves.

  “Kian, what are we doing here?” I ask.

  “Just wait and see, please.”

  The elevator slows and we walk out into a lavish hallway with thick pile carpet and elegant decorations lining the walls. It takes my breath away it’s so gorgeous. As we walk down the hall, Kian twirls the keys. Clink, twirl, clink, twirl, clink with each step. He can’t be serious, can he? This has to be some elaborate one-night event or something. Maybe he’s house sitting, and we get to spend a night here? It’s an exciting idea.

  When we reach the last door of the hallway, Kian uses the keys and opens it. I thought the outside was beautiful, but the interior takes things to an entirely new level. Everything is perfect. This place is fit for a king. It’s modern minimalist meets pampered royalty. Curves and edges. Shimmer and shine. I’ve never before seen anything quite this grand.

  “You like it?” Kian asks. He grins like a kid on Christmas morning.

  “Like is… insufficient,” I reply, and he smiles.

  “Well, it’s ours.” He gestures to the entire apartment.

  “You’re kidding me,” I respond. “For tonight?”

  “No,” he shakes his head. “I’ve got a year-long lease.”

  “How…” I trail off. I’m not sure I really want to know.

  How could he possibly afford this place? I know he’s well off, but this is nuts.

  “Check this out,” he says, walking towards a sliding glass door.

  It opens out onto a terrace with a small potted garden. The terrace has a white stone half wall surrounding it. Kian walks to the wall and stares out over Glasgow towards the horizon. Once more I’m left breathless. It’s so incredibly gorgeous. Standing next to him staring out over this city that I love, almost, it feels right. Like the two of us could be something.

  At some point, I have to ask him about his money. I know I need to know, but not right now. I’m scared of the answer, scared of the explanation. I know he’s holding something back, and I hate to think it might be something big—something that could shatter this fairy tale.

  Tonight I want to enjoy this experience. Enjoy this beautiful place. He places a hand over mine where it rests on the wall, and I stare at it. Could it be? That is perhaps the cruelest part of this. In a place like this, looking out over the city, I could come to love waking up next to him. The possibilities spin out before me, and I want them. The problem is I’m dreaming. He’s not really going to settle down. He’ll tire of me then he’ll wander, and we’d end up miserable. It’s the only way it could end.

  Now, though, now I can enjoy. This moment, right here with him. I touch his face, and he turns from the horizon. We kiss. Soft, gentle kisses. There’s a slow-rising passion that comes with the simple touch of our lips one to another. The beauty around us accents the way our lips fit together. His arms encircle me, holding me close against him, and desire awakens.

  One of his hands moves down to my hips while the other caresses my cheek. My awakened passion becomes insistent. His hand grips my waist then pulls me tighter against him, and still, we kiss. His cock presses into my abdomen, and he cries out his desire for me. I know he wants me and right now, and I want him too. Tomorrow be damned—now is all there is.

  My fingers grip his triceps. They flex and bulge with the movement of his arms as his hands roam across me. Trails of fire run along my body following behind his fingers until the sensations begin to meet each other. I’m being consumed in a growing conflagration of desires.

  His tongue flicks against mine as he brings his hand across my thigh then up to my sex. He slides under my dress to find my already wet panties. His fingers slide beneath that small piece of fabric and find my sex. Keeping eye contact, he slips two fingers inside of me. I gasp, my eyes opening in surprise, and throw my head back as he fingers me. My legs quiver, my knees are weak, I can barely stand. His grip in my hair tightens, pulling my head back as he slides his fingers into my eager pussy.

  I’m whimpering in his arms. We stumble back until my ass is on the wall and still, his fingers are moving in a steady, intense rhythm. I’m driven to the edge of my pleasure. Blackness dances at the edges of my vision until he pushes me over the edge. Knotting my hands in his hair, I give myself over.

  “Kian!” I moan as the orgasm rips through my body. I’m stand, my body tight against his. If it weren’t for his support, the strength of his arms, I’d fall to the floor in my own weakness.

  We continue kissing as he sweeps me off of my feet then carries me through the house. My arms are wrapped around his neck, and he has one hand up my dress, keeping my filled as he carries me into the bedroom. He lays me out on the bed and one handed undoes his pants letting them fall to the floor. His fingers slowly warm me up, preparing me then he replaces them with his cock in one agile thrust.

  I cry out his name. His back arches into me, he throws his head back, and he groans as he buries his shaft inside me. He moves inside me without reservation. I rise to meet his thrusts, and we love with wild abandonment, fueled by need and desire. Sensations are wildfire, racing through my body, driving me with the rhythm of our own lovemaking.

  It’s not long before he thrusts in and holds himself there. As he fills me this final time, my orgasm tears through me like white hot fire. Burning through my nerves, overwhelming, all consuming, carrying me away. He lowers himself onto me and our wildly beating hearts slow together, dropping down as we hold each other tight.

  We kiss as he pulls out and we cuddle against each other. In moments I’m asleep.

  I wake with a start, and I shiver. The room is dark, and the temperature went down with the sun. My belly grumbles, and I realize we skipped dinner. I slide to the edge of the bed, trying not to wake Kian. As I slide off, he stirs.

  “What time is it?” he asks sleepily.

  “No clue.”

  “I’m hungry, how about you?”

  “Starving,” I tell him. “Is there food in the kitchen.”

  “Should be,” he says. “Just a minute, I’ll help fix something.”

  We dress and go to the kitchen together. A quick spin through to find that it’s very well stocked. Everything is fresh with some gorgeous produce and meat, all looking like it was cut or picked the day before.

  “Sandwiches good with you?” he asks, holding up a package of sliced turkey and fresh lettuce in the other.

  “Sure!” My mouth waters.

  We work together slicing up vegetables and putting together our sandwiches. Once our plates are done, we sit down at the breakfast nook in the kitchen. We eat in silence for a while.

  “So,” he says. “Do you like it?”

  I cover my delay in answering him by continuing to chew. Can I be honest with him? Honest with myself?

  “Yes,” I say, putting at least most of the truth out there.

  “I thought you might,” he says. “Anything you don’t like we can change. I did my best to pick out a style and things I thought you’d like.”

  “How’d you know?” I ask.

  He smiles and shrugs. “I watch you. I listen.”

  He stares into my eyes as he eats, and the butterflies take flight in my stomach. He listens. He watches. Is that the bad boy I know him to be? Is that something that a man who’s only using me would be bothered with? Sw
allowing, I smile and push aside thoughts like that. It’s ridiculous. I’m under no delusions that I’m going to ‘reform’ him.

  “I think it’s very nice,” I say.

  Too nice. Too perfect. You know what they say about when someone offers you something too good to be true? Well here it is, and I’m in the middle of it. I love his hair, messy from the bed. The five o’clock shadow that darkens his face and accents his strong jawline. He reaches for his drink, and his unbuttoned shirt lets me watch the way the muscles ripple with this simple gesture. Too perfect.

  Until the year is up, though, I can enjoy this. One year together. That’s all, just don’t let your heart get broken in the process. If I can.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Her chest rises and falls as she sleeps. I’ve never felt so content lying next to a girl and letting her sleep. Possibilities for the future play out in my mind while she rests. I know this is it. Now I have to convince her. I have a year. One year. If I can keep Eva and Aidan from screwing it up. She can’t know who I am yet. In time, absolutely, but not yet. One, I want her to want me for me, not because of the family I was born into, but I don’t think that would matter to her. She’s definitely different than that. The big thing is I don’t want it to change things. I want us to be normal, to get to know each other like regular people.

  My promise to Eva haunts me. Maybe I can buy some more time before she pushes the issue. Maybe she’ll start to understand that I’m truly sincere. Eva wants to protect Abby, and I understand that. I want to do that, too. I know this if for the best. This makes things simpler. One year. I can do this.

  “Mmm,” Abby stirs. “Good morning.”

  “Morning,” I smile.

  “You been up long?”

  “No,” I lie, having been awake over an hour.

  “What time is it?” she asks stretching.

  “Ten or so.”

  “Man, I really overslept.”

  “You needed it. It’s been a long week,” I soothe her. “Want to go out for coffee then some brunch?”

  “Sounds great,” she says, climbing out of bed.