Ruined: A Dark Romance

by B. B. Hamel

  He took my hair in his hands and let me slowly suck his tip like that. “You like taking my cock, don’t you?” he asked. “You can’t help but touch that pussy while you suck me off.”

  I moaned and went back to work. He pressed me down, letting his cock push into my throat. I sucked him fast like that, moaning as I worked my own clit faster and faster.

  I sucked him like that for as long as I could before pulling back out, gasping and staring at him. He grinned at me, his mouth hanging open. “I want to see you swallow every drop,” he said. “Can you do that? Can you take my cum down your fucking throat?”

  “Yes,” I moaned, so fucking wet, out of my mind as I rubbed myself.

  “Do it,” he commanded.

  I went back to work, sucking faster and faster, working him as hard as I could. I wanted him to come in my mouth and throat, wanted him to fill my mouth with his hot cum.

  He groaned, pushing me down, working his hips into me. I stopped rubbing myself and used my other hand to jerk his shaft off.

  “That’s right. Keep going,” he groaned as I kept working him, faster and faster, harder and harder. His grunts and groans of pleasure got louder and faster as I kept at it, working his cock, jerking him off and sucking him.

  Finally, he groaned and I tasted his hot cum as it filled my mouth. I didn’t let up. I just kept sucking him harder and faster. I took every single drop of his cum in my mouth and throat and swallowed it all, loving how he came in my mouth, how he groaned his pleasure.

  And slowly it was over. I swallowed and licked him clean.

  “Shit,” he groaned.

  I smiled at him, but instead of collapsing back onto the blanket, he pushed me back over. I fell back and he was on top of me, kissing me hard. I was surprised but didn’t mind as he stripped my pants and panties off.

  “Trip,” I gasped.

  “What?” he asked, tossing my panties aside.

  “We’re out in the middle of this field,” I said.

  “Good,” he answered. “I want you exposed.” His fingers found my pussy and slowly pressed inside me, two fingers slowly working in and out. “I want you exposed for everyone to see. You’re my fucking girl, and I’m going to get you off wherever I please.”

  I moaned, my head tossed back as he kissed my neck. I hadn’t expected this, but I was fully ready for it, primed and already so close. His fingers fucked my pussy as he kissed my neck. He worked my clit and then went back to fucking me. I groaned as he slowly moved down my body.

  His mouth began to suck and lick my clit. He ate me fast like a starving man, and that tipped me over the edge. “Trip,” I gasped, holding his head close to my clit as his fingers kept fucking my tight pussy. “Oh shit, Trip. I’m coming.”

  He worked harder, faster. I came, an explosive orgasm rolling over my body. I couldn’t control myself, but Trip could. He kept working me all through it, pressing me past the edge and beyond, to the point where I couldn’t think and could hardly breathe.

  Finally, it was over. It was so damn intense, and I could only breathe deeply. He slowly came up and kissed me gently on the lips. I embraced him, pulling him against me, hungry for his mouth.

  We kissed like that on the picnic blanket in the middle of the meadow. It was like a dream how my body felt, like a dream how Trip could make me feel.

  We stayed like that, our bodies pressed close, breathing deeply, the horses tethered nearby. It wasn’t a dream at all. It was real, so real, and I could hardly believe it was me.

  28

  Trip

  I grunted as I threw the newspaper down on the table.

  It was typical tabloid crap, and I shouldn’t have been surprised by it. Frankly, I was expecting them to have something to say about Bryce, and I was a little surprised they had waited so long.

  The headline read, “With Unrest in Stehen, King Flirts with American Harlot.”

  It was a little more elegant in Starklandian, but that was the gist of it.

  I didn’t know who had leaked the details of our time together, but I had a media whore in my retinue. It was probably a servant desperate to make some extra money; I was going to have to find out who, fire him or her, and give everyone else a raise.

  Part of me wished I still had control of the media. In other countries, the dictator or the ruler had total control over the media, and the media reported only the approved messages. Starkland was like that a long time ago, but the monarchy decided to create a free press around the turn of the century. We weren’t really savages after all. My people had freedom.

  This was going to be a PR nightmare. I could already see Lynette’s head spinning around and around, fire shooting from her eyes. The thought made me smile.

  Sighing, I got up and opened my door. The servant stationed outside my door perked up instantly. “Get Maximillian,” I told him.

  He bowed and disappeared. The servant system was pretty good, but not nearly as reliable as the intercoms in the castle. I was going to have to upgrade the estate house, and soon. This just wouldn’t fucking do.

  I sipped my coffee, letting my mind wander back to Bryce. I wished I could see her more, but after we rode back when the picnic was finished, I was forced back into another useless string of meetings that kept me tied up all night.

  At least I was told that she spent some quality time with her father. I wanted to go see her, but I knew I had other priorities, as much as I wanted to blow them off for Bryce.

  Soon, there was a knock at the door. “Come,” I called, and Max entered.

  “Sir,” he said, bowing slightly.

  “Did you see this?” I held up the paper.

  “Yes,” he said. “We’re already investigating.”

  “Good. Find who leaked this, fire him or her, and then give everyone else a raise.”

  “Is that wise? Funds are tight in war time, Your Highness.”

  “Trip,” I said, annoyed. “And yes. Do it.”

  “Very well. Anything else?”

  “Yes.” I paused, glancing down. “What are people saying?” I asked him.

  “Why bother asking me? You’ll just go to Lynette next and trust her opinion more.”

  I was surprised. “Max, are you angry about that?”

  “No,” he said simply. “I want to merely remind you that I’ve been a loyal servant to Your Highness for your whole life.”

  I laughed. “Okay, Max. You’re right. Please, tell me what you think.”

  “They don’t like her,” he said. “People think she’s a foreigner corrupting you. They believe the democrats are winning because you’re too busy spending time with the American girl.”

  I sighed. “That’s what I feared.”

  “Is it true?” he asked me.

  That took me aback. “What?”

  “Are you distracted, Trip? I’m not asking as your advisor. I’m asking as your friend.”

  I frowned. It was very, very rare for Maximillian to break protocol like this, incredibly rare. In fact, I think he’d only done it once or twice before in my entire life. He was normally so stuffy and serious, but he looked genuinely concerned.

  “Maybe,” I admitted. “I enjoy her, Max.”

  “I know you do, but you must be careful. This country hasn’t seen a crisis like this in a very long time.”

  “I understand,” I said. “I know what my duties are.”

  “I know you do, but I only wish to counsel caution. Do not get overly involved with this girl, at least until the current crisis is over.”

  “You want me to send her away?”

  “Not necessarily,” he said. “That would look bad in the press, truth be told. But I do think you need to spend less time with her. Distance yourself.”

  “I hardly spend time with her as it is.”

  “True,” he agreed. “But unfortunately, every second of your time is worth thousands of everyone else’s, at least in this country. You’re the king, Trip, and that means your time is not entirely your own anymore
.”

  I looked away, out the window. I knew that deep down in my bones, but I hated to admit it. No part of me wanted to be indebted to anyone, not even my own country, but I did owe them.

  The rule of the country had fallen on me. It was my responsibility. They were my people, nobody else, and I was the only one who could get this country through the war.

  “Damn,” I said softly. “Fucking damn.”

  “Yes, I agree.” Max stepped toward me. “The only thing I’ve ever wanted for you is happiness, Trip. When you were still just the prince, when your father and Leo were alive, I wanted you to find a woman like Bryce. It’s a shame you found her now.”

  “I found plenty of women back then,” I said, grinning.

  “You did,” he agreed. “But did that fulfill you?”

  “No. Not like she does.”

  “Therein lies your dilemma. Your country on the one hand, and your woman on the other.”

  “Yes,” I said.

  “I wish it didn’t have to be so.”

  “Don’t we all.”

  As I glanced out the window again, my mind getting tugged toward Bryce once again, there was a knock at the door, insistent and loud. I nodded at Max, and he opened up.

  General Hardcourt was standing there, looking flustered. “Your Highness, Maximillian.”

  “What is it, Hardcourt?” I asked.

  “Sir, a small rebel army was spotted in this region.”

  That surprised me. We were all the way out in the easternmost province of Starkland. It was mainly poor farmlands and the estates of the lords. There were no real strategic targets in the east that the democrats could possibly want.

  Except for my estate and me.

  “How large?” I asked.

  “Hard to say. Hundreds, possibly thousands.”

  “Where are they going?”

  “Our scouts are unsure. We’re tracking them with satellites. They seem to be moving in our general direction.”

  “Fuck,” I said, standing. “They’re coming here.”

  “My thoughts exactly, Your Highness.” Hardcourt looked very serious.

  “What’s the closest detachment?” I asked him.

  “Three days away. The rebels are two days out at best.”

  “How did they escape our attention?”

  “They likely traveled separately and only came together overnight. We spotted them as soon as they moved.”

  “Bastards,” I said.

  “Your Highness, we can leave,” Max said.

  “Run?” Hardcourt asked.

  “Yes,” Max said. “Run and live another day.”

  “No,” I said. “We don’t run. We fight.” I looked at Hardcourt. “How many men do we have here?”

  A smile toyed at his lips. The old general could see where I was going, and he liked it, the violent old dog.

  “Around four hundred or so. We’d need to leave at least one hundred behind in case this fails.”

  “Very well. Get them ready.”

  “Your Highness, you can’t be serious. You’re outnumbered.”

  “And they’re out classed. We have superior firepower. We have drones and high-powered rifles. They’re a bunch of untrained assholes who want to kill us all. We’re going.”

  “I’ll start preparations,” Hardcourt said, and then he bowed and left.

  “I’m going too,” I said to Max.

  “No,” he said. “You can’t.”

  “I’m sick of sitting on the sidelines. Leo rode into war as the king, and so will I.”

  “Look at what happened to Leo. He got himself killed, and that only made the country less stable. Your Highness, we can’t survive your death.”

  “Starkland can survive anything. We’ve survived worse.”

  “No. This is different. There’s no direct heir. This hasn’t happened in hundreds of years. Listen to me, Trip. You cannot go.”

  I furrowed my brow. I wanted the feeling of rolling down a rutted road, gutted with bombs, crackling gunshots in the distance. I wanted the rush as I tried to kill my enemy before they tried to kill me. I wanted to be in the trenches again, so to speak.

  But Max was right. If I died, there was nobody to take control of the country. There would be total chaos, and the ministers would fight amongst themselves. The democrats would win, without a doubt.

  That was what they’d wanted when they sent the assassin. And maybe it was what they wanted in this situation. Maybe they wanted to get me into the open and give killing me another try.

  “Very well,” I said to him. “I won’t go.”

  “Good,” he said, visibly relieved. “I’ll go assist Hardcourt, make sure he doesn’t completely strip the estate of defenses.”

  “Give him what he needs,” I said.

  “As you wish,” he said. “One last thing before I go. We followed up the leads on Nicolai Corvin but found nothing. He petitioned to be allowed into the estate.”

  “Grant his petition,” I said. “As much as I dislike the man, he’s still a minister. If he was cleared, he can join us.”

  “Very good.” Max bowed and left.

  I looked out the window, annoyed and frustrated. I wanted to get out there, but I knew my duty to the country was to stay here and to survive in order to lead them to victory.

  My damn country was going to always come first, even if it was getting in the way of what I really wanted.

  What I really wanted was Bryce. I’d give up war for her in a second.

  But none of that mattered. I had a duty, and I was going to follow through with it. I finished my coffee, stood, and headed out to my morning briefings.

  29

  Bryce

  It was a day after the picnic with Trip, and I still hadn’t heard a word from him.

  Which was fine. I was reading the news, and I could tell that he was clearly incredibly busy. The rebels were making moves and the people in the capital city were very restless.

  At least that was what I could find out in the English language news. I found a ton of press in Starklandian, but I couldn’t get reliable translations. I even asked a servant, but he just shook his head and looked terrified.

  I stretched out on my couch, tired and bored. It was around three in the afternoon, and I had no plans for the rest of the day. I figured I was going to watch some TV, maybe go for a walk on the grounds, or maybe even go for a swim. As it turned out, hanging out with nothing to do was boring, regardless of whether you were in a beautiful estate or just at home.

  As I sat there, I heard a strange sound. I looked up and noticed something odd: a white envelope on the floor.

  I walked over and picked it up. I tore it open and realized that it was an invitation to some kind of dinner tonight in the formal dining room. Apparently it wanted formal dress, too, though I didn’t know what that meant.

  And I didn’t have any fancy clothes. I’d had just enough time to grab the bare necessities.

  As I stood there trying to figure out what I could do about this, there was another knock at the door. I pulled it open and in walked two servants pushing a rack of dresses between them.

  Maximillian followed them in. “For the dinner,” he said, and then he dismissed the servants. They left quickly.

  I stared at him. “I can pick one?”

  “Of course,” he said. “I should warn you, though. This is a formal thing for the local lords. It’s a way to try to win more local support. I don’t know if Trip will have much time for you.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him. I’d never gotten the sense that Maximillian liked me, but that was outright hostile.

  “That’s okay,” I said. “I know Trip is busy.”

  “King Christophe,” he corrected.

  “Sure,” I said, shrugging. “Whatever.”

  He pursed his lips. “Choose, please.”

  I looked over the dresses. They were all so beautiful, some sleek and tight and some layered and lovely. I picked through for a moment before pulling of
f a navy green dress with vintage-looking lace and beautiful layers.

  “Good,” Maximillian said. “Please don’t be late.” He pulled the dresses out of the room without another word.

  I gaped after him. I wasn’t even sure I wanted the dress, but apparently I was stuck with it. There were no second chances in Starkland as it turned out.

  Shrugging, I smiled to myself and went into the bathroom to try it on. I hoped it was going to fit, though I suspected it would.

  Trip was the kind of man to pay attention to that sort of thing.

  I stepped out into the hallway, feeling good.

  It took me about an hour to get dressed. I was ready in plenty of time, and I felt reasonably confident about how I looked. At least, as far as that went. I was never perfect, but I felt good enough.

  The dress fit, at least.

  “Honey,” Dad said, coming toward me down the hall, “you look lovely.”

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  Lucy smiled. “Very pretty dress. Good color.”

  “Thank you.” At least she was in a good mood.

  The two of them were in their formal clothes, and I guessed they had servants bring them things as well. Lucy looked nice in a floor-length beige gown that offset her nice, dirty blond hair.

  “Ready?” Dad asked.

  “Let’s go.”

  The three of us walked down the hallways and headed down the stairs. Some servants spotted us and took us the rest of the way to the formal dining room.

  It was a lot bigger than I had expected. It was probably more of a ballroom than a dining room. There were at least fifty people milling about, and we entered into the fray knowing nobody and not even speaking the language.

  We managed to find our table, marked with nametags. We were seated with other ministers we didn’t recognize. I looked around the room, but I couldn’t find Trip anywhere.

  We sat down, and instantly Lucy began to talk to the older woman on her right. The woman was clearly some kind of baroness or countess or something like that. She wasn’t really interested in Lucy, but her grasp of English wasn’t the best, so she probably didn’t know how to get herself out of her situation. Lucy, for her part, didn’t care who listened or spoke English, so long as she could speak.