The Royal Rogue

by Halle, Karina

  Also, did someone run this past Stella? Because I’m pretty sure she wants us the fuck out of here.

  Once in the breakfast room I discover the rest of my family already sitting down and eating from a spread of eggs, cold cuts, cheese, rye and crispbreads, and what I assume is pickled herring.

  “Nice of you all to start without me,” I tell them, pulling out a seat and sitting down next to my father.

  “We didn’t want to wake you,” he says to me. “I know how dangerous those boar attacks can be. Exhausting.” He spears a piece of ham with his fork and shakes it at me. “This is what I ought to do to that bastard. I need to avenge my son.”

  Sometimes I wonder how on earth he’s in charge of a whole country, but then I remember he was born into it. Not chosen.

  “He’s someone’s pet,” I remind him. “Two little princesses. What would you do if Matilde had a beloved pet that misbehaved? Eat them?”

  “He did!” Matilde yells with wide, angry eyes. “Don’t you remember when I was seven and had Mr. Bunny Buns and then one day he was gone? They said he disappeared but then the cooks served us rabbit a few days later. Coincidence? I think not.”

  My father’s mustache twists with his smile. “World is full of coincidences, darling.”

  I switch the subject before things turn into a yelling match again. Matilde and my father don’t see eye to eye, never have, and they normally don’t spend this much time together. I’m not sure how they’re going to survive the next week.

  “So what’s this news of us staying here longer?” I ask.

  And I ask this just as Stella walks in the room and comes to a halt.

  “I beg your pardon?” Stella asks, staring at me incredulously.

  She looks fantastic dressed down, like this is the real Stella. She’s in a striped blue and white shirt that knots around the waist and full white skirt, her hair pulled back in a messy bun. It makes me want to walk over there and undo it, run her silky strands through my fingers and give them a tug. Make her moan again.

  But she also looks vaguely horrified, especially as Penelope appears behind her.

  “Did you hear the news?” she says to Stella, smiling brightly while clutching a few prescriptions bottles in her hand. “We’re going to stay a few extra days.”

  Then Penelope comes over to me and places the pill bottles beside my plate. “I have Percocet, codeine, Vicodin, anything you want, darling.”

  “Thanks,” I say to her uneasily, watching Stella. She does not look happy. I mean, she’s trying. She’s put that stiff smile on her face but I know she’s probably freaking the fuck out. I feel bad, even if I’m actually pleased that I’ll be around her a little longer. “Perhaps we should probably clear this all with Princess Stella, hmm?” I tell Penelope. “Would be the polite thing to do.”

  She waves at Stella as if she’s not standing by the door. “Oh, it’s fine. This is part of her royal duties, you know. Entertaining us. We do the same when royals come to visit us.”

  That’s true, but not that many royal families seem to pop by anymore.

  Three guesses as to why.

  “It’s fine,” Stella says, though she doesn’t say it to me. “You’re welcome to stay as long as you’d like.”

  I know she doesn’t mean it and I wish she didn’t say it because who knows what wavelength Penelope is operating on. We might be here indefinitely.

  “I’ll go let the staff know,” Stella says to us, before turning and leaving the room.

  I get out of my chair and everyone looks to me in surprise. “I better go see if she knows a doctor, just in case my arm gets worse.”

  I stride out of the room and jog down the hall after Stella who is stomping away.

  I reach out and grab her by the arm.

  “Hey,” I say.

  She stops and whirls around, looking at me with an expression I can’t read. Surprise? Worry? Disgust?

  “What?” she snaps.

  I try not to let her attitude rile me up. “What nothing,” I snap back. Well that didn’t go so well. I give her a quick smile and start over. “I’m sorry about my stepmother. I didn’t know we were staying longer.”

  She exhales hard through her nose and looks away, her jaw tense. “It’s fine.”

  “It’s not. I know you want to us to be out of your hair.” I pause, studying her face, that manages to look sweet even when she’s angry as hell. “And I know I’m just a complication.”

  She frowns and looks back at me. “You’re not a complication.”

  “Well you seemed to go to bed pretty early and pretty fast last night. A headache, was it? Almost as if you were afraid I’d offer my company.”

  Her frown deepens and she sucks her lip into her mouth. I wouldn’t mind doing the same. “I did have a headache. And I was tired.”

  “I wore you out, did I?”

  A small smile creeps on her lips. “Entertaining guests is a lot of work.”

  “I see. Can’t admit that you needed that fuck, can you?”

  “You’re so crude.”

  “Only because I like seeing you blush. I know it turns you on.”

  “You don’t know me.”

  “You’ve said that quite a few times, I’m afraid you’re starting to sound like a broken record.”

  She looks away and down at my arm. “How is it?”

  I wave it at her. “Oh this old thing? It hurts like a bitch.”

  “I was wondering about all the painkillers. Starting to think I might need them too if you guys are overstaying your welcome.”

  “Yes, well, perhaps we can all pop them and have a fucking blast. In the meantime, I think I might need you to hook me up with a doctor because the last thing I need is a fucking infection and die of swine flu.”

  “That’s not what swine flu is.”

  “Well thank you, boar expert.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Okay, well I’m not really sure what to do. I mean, I’ll make sure we get a doctor over here, that’s not a problem. But what does your family expect from me?”

  “You mean what does Penelope expect? I guarantee Matilde and Francis would be happy exploring the streets of Copenhagen, getting a little drunk, and doing a little shopping. My father should be kept well away from Snarf Snarf, and Penelope, well, don’t be surprised if she wants you to give her a more in-depth tour of the palace. Outside. Where the paparazzi can take their pictures.”

  She purses her lips together for a moment. “And what do you want?”

  I open my mouth to tell her exactly what when a voice calls out from down the hall.

  I look around Stella to see her prim aunt Maja coming toward us.

  “What time should I arrange for the cars to take them to the airport?” she asks her. Then she sees me and does a curtsey. “Prince Orlando. I hope you’re feeling better.”

  “I am . . .” I say slowly.

  “They’re staying a while longer,” Stella informs her.

  “What?” Maja asks harshly, then she eyes me. Puts on a smile. “Well, that’s certainly unexpected but we will make arrangements. I’ll let everyone know.”

  I watch as Maja walks away.

  Stella quickly turns and starts going in the opposite direction.

  “Where are you going?” I yell after her.

  “To call the doctor,” she says, disappearing down a corridor until I find her around the corner in a small library, the walls shelves stacked with books with a large desk in the middle and a plush loveseat tucked into one corner.

  “Nice room,” I comment. “This your office?”

  She stops at the desk and picks up her mobile phone that was resting on it. A hardcover book is face down, but the title is in Danish. “Kind of. Aksel has his office upstairs but it never feels right being there.”

  “Are you close with him?”

  A thoughtful look comes across her pretty eyes. “Yeah. We are now. Maybe not when growing up.”

  “Age difference?”

  “No
t really. I mean he’s eight years older so yeah. I guess that’s the same with you and your siblings, right?”

  “You pay attention. I’m impressed.”

  She shrugs and leans back against the desk, toying with the phone in her hands. “I did some research on you last night.”

  I raise my hands. “I don’t want to hear it. None of it is true.”

  “Maybe not. But since you’re staying longer and you’re going to be loopy on painkillers, I might just get to the bottom about some things. Such as Zoya.”

  I stiffen at the mention of her name. Sometimes it’s easy to forget. “Zoya is a nice girl but I’m not with her like people would have you think.”

  “I sure fucking hope not or you’d be total asshole to fuck another woman when you have a girlfriend.”

  I swallow hard, not liking where this is going. “I was honest when I said I have no commitments.” I pause, bringing the conversation back to her. “So if it wasn’t the age difference, why weren’t you and your brother close?”

  “I guess . . .” She trails off and stares at the bookshelves in thought. “I guess because he was always groomed to be King. From day one, he was the heir, the chosen one, if you will. And I was kind of . . . brushed to the side and forgotten about.”

  “Did you want to be queen?”

  “When I was little, yeah. Absolutely. But as I got older I realized it was a trap.”

  “This is all a trap, you know.”

  “Adulthood?”

  “Being a royal.”

  “Well, I suppose you’re in Aksel’s shoes. You’ve been groomed for the role from the start. Maybe not King but it’s semantics, right? You’re the heir, the future ruler.” She looks at me curiously. “Is that something you’ve always wanted?”

  “Who even says I want it right now?”

  Her brows raise. “You don’t want it?”

  “You’re making me sound like Jon Snow,” I tell her. “I want it. I just . . . it’s normal to want what you don’t have and what I don’t have is freedom.”

  “I don’t know about that. My brother has been able to do a lot of the things that he wants. Freedom to fall in love with a young nanny and make her his queen. That’s something.”

  “It’s different for me,” I tell her, but I don’t go into specifics. There’s a time and a place for that and it’s not right now.

  No, right now I have other things in mind.

  I walk over to her and she stiffens up slightly at my approach.

  I stop right in front of her and stare down at her lips, her nose, her eyes. She gazes up at me through long dark lashes.

  “Why do I feel like I have unfinished business with you?” I murmur. I reach out, running my thumb over her cheekbone, feeling the warmth of her skin. “Oh, I know why. I told you I’d give you three orgasms and I only gave you two.”

  I watch as she swallows. Clears her throat. “Two was good enough for me. I wasn’t even expecting one.”

  “Don’t turn away what’s owed to you, princess,” I tell her. “Especially when there were so many other things I didn’t get to do to you.”

  “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

  “Why not?”

  “Last night was last night.”

  “You’re afraid of me hanging around you for the next few days?”

  “It might complicate things.”

  “Complicate what? Listen, little star—”

  “Little star?”

  “You’re named after the beer, right?”

  She rolls her eyes.

  “Listen,” I repeat, sliding my hand down her back, “you’re going to need a bit of stress release with my family, with your duties. When this is all over you’ll go back to your daughter and the life you have there but, until then, I can get you off, again and again, and if that doesn’t happen, it sounds like a fucking shame to me.”

  “I need to call a doctor.”

  “Then call a doctor.”

  She gives me a wary look, probably because I’m not backing out of her space. Just like last night, I have her cornered, this time against a desk. I think she likes it. She hasn’t once tried to walk away.

  With a sigh, she looks down and starts scrolling through her phone until she finds the number. Brings the phone to her ear.

  I hear the muffled voice on the other side as someone answers.

  “Hej?” Stella says, her accent thickening as she starts speaking to someone in Danish. I don’t understand a word. While French is my main language, I’m fluent in English, Italian and the language of my people, Monégasque. Danish seems like a whole other world. Luckily everyone here speaks perfect English but, even if she didn’t, we could communicate in other ways.

  I’ll see if she picks up what I’m trying to communicate right now.

  While she’s talking, saying who knows what, I let my hand slide around her waist, over to the front of her skirt. She stiffens up, sucking in her stomach. I grin, letting my fingers slip beneath the waistband, feeling her soft skin underneath until the tips of them tease the lacey trim of her underwear.

  She gives me a look, wide-eyed and warning, and yet she doesn’t move. She clears her throat and says into the phone. “Ja? Jeg er her.”

  “Keep talking Danish,” I whisper to her, leaning in to place a kiss at her neck. “It makes me hard.”

  I feel her swallow against my lips. Her pulse is rising, skin growing warm. I love what I’m doing to her.

  And as my fingers slide underneath her underwear and I feel how drenched she is, it’s obvious she loves it too.

  “Already wet for me?” I murmur, slowly licking up her neck until she’s practically shivering. Her breath shortens and she’s trying desperately to retain composure, even as my forefinger strokes along her flesh.

  “Ja . . .” she says again into the phone, breathless. I have to wonder what the receptionist on the other end is thinking. “I dag.”

  I watch as she closes her eyes and lets out a breath of air, her mouth open, her phone pressed against her chest as I push my finger inside her. She clenches around me, greedy, hungry and I slowly insert another finger, then another.

  “Shit,” she swears, gasping, her back arching. Then she composes herself just enough to quickly say into the phone. “Nej. Jeg venter.”

  If she keeps this up, they’re going to think the doctor is for her.

  “I’ll stop if you want me to,” I say hoarsely. “Just say the words.” I keep my fingers swirling around her clit, making her grow slicker, her breath sharper. “Or I can keep going.”

  Her eyes are closed, head back but she’s nodding. Whether she’s nodding in regards to something on the phone or saying yes to me, I’ll take my chances. It won’t take long, at any rate.

  Testing her, I start sliding my finger out of her, letting them make wet trails up to her stomach. She lets out a little moan of disappointment.

  “You want more?” I slide my fingers back down. “Tell me. I need to know.”

  “Ja,” she whispers huskily, nodding. “Please.”

  “Please? Such good manners. It’s almost like you’re begging.” I can’t help but grin, loving how undone she’s becoming. “You want to come for me? You feel like you’re seconds away from coming as it is,” I whisper into her ear, my voice hoarse and ragged. “Like if I drop to my knees and place my lips on your pussy right now, you’ll immediately start writhing. I’ll pop that hot clit of yours into my mouth like candy, suck your sweetness, have you melt onto my tongue until you’re all I can taste.”

  The phone slides out of her hands at that and she makes a quick fumble to catch it before it falls to the ground. She gives me the most incredulous look and as she meets my eyes, I see the wildness in them, like watching grey-blue storm waves crashing against the shore.

  I could drown in them.

  “You better take that call.” I nod at it. “I’m a sick, sick man.”

  Her cheeks flush pink and I give her a quick grin before I do exac
tly as I warned.

  I drop to my knees, slide my hands under her skirt and up her thighs until they grasp the sides of her underwear and then pull them down and off. Then I lift her skirt and stick my head under it until my mouth is at her inner thigh. I hook a leg over my shoulder, spreading her open, and inhale her scent.

  I’ve been hard this whole time but her musky, sweet, intoxicating scent is like a straight shot to my dick. It strains against my fly, aching, making me groan. She’s close to coming, but if I keep this up I’ll be letting loose in my own fucking pants.

  My lips go together and I blow lightly on her clit, enough for her body to tense and quiver and then spread her with my finger before I place my tongue on her.

  I can hear her whimper, know she’s gripping the edge of the desk, and I slowly begin working my tongue back and forth, lapping up her sweet cream.

  “Oh god!” she cries out and that’s when I feel the phone hit me on the head and hear it fall to the floor. Guess that phone call is over.

  I go at her, a man starved and feasting on a buffet. My mouth and lips and tongue probe and lick and suck until she’s squeezing my head between her legs, needing more, wanting me deeper, harder, faster. It’s messy and she’s dripping and no woman has ever tasted so good.

  “Orlando,” I hear her gasp, and then she’s coming, her body stiffening before shaking like an earthquake. I feel her pulse onto my tongue, her wetness melting into my mouth. “Don’t stop, don’t stop!” she calls out, her voice breaking.

  I don’t. I assault her with my lips, sucking her into my mouth before I thrust my tongue inside her, over and over again, until the pressure of her legs around my head starts to lessen.

  “Oh god,” she says breathlessly.

  I grin to myself as I pull my head away and wipe my mouth with the inside of her skirt before I pull her underwear back up. Then I lift my head out of her skirt and grab both sides of her hips, staring up at her while I’m still on my knees.

  She glances down at me, looking hot and bothered, her eyes glazed. “The doctor is coming,” she manages to say.

  “Seems like you came first,” I tell her, getting to my feet.

  Chapter 5

  Stella