by B. B. Hamel
It’s a dangerous place, even though everyone seemed friendly enough. Maybe he’s right, maybe I do need to talk about this. He can make me understand some of the subtleties that I’m sure I missed.
It’ll be professional. Strictly professional. Just like everyone else is with him.
9
Bran
The door to Mila’s suite shuts and I feel only relief.
We made it out of the viper’s den alive. I pour myself a drink as Mila sits down on the couch, watching me. She looks tired, but absolutely fucking radiant. I don’t think she even realizes how beautiful she is in that dress. It was an expensive extravagance, buying that last minute. I hired one of Bellestan’s best designers and paid him a fucking fortune to get it here in the nick of time, but it was worth every fucking penny.
Except now all I want to do is to peel it off her body and throw it down in the corner of the room. A dress is only worth whatever’s underneath it, and Mila is worth everything to me.
“Can I get you something?” I ask her, nodding at the bar.
She shrugs. “Some white wine, if it’s there.”
“Coming right up.” I open a bottle of white and pour her a glass. I sit down in the chair next to her and put her drink down on the coffee table. She takes it and sips it while I look at her.
“What did you think?” I ask finally.
She shrugs a little bit. “It was okay,” she says.
“Okay?” I laugh a little. “That was a cluster fuck.”
She frowns and looks at her shoes. “Sorry if I made any mistakes.”
I hesitate for a second. “Mila, you were perfect.”
She looks up at me. “Really?”
“Really,” I confirm. “You were polite, you kept it vague, but you were also charming and funny. I had more than one man tell me how stunning you are.”
“Why didn’t I hear that?” she asks, perking up.
“Because they said it in Bellestanian,” he says, laughing. “Actually, one of the ministers, Lavoy Champlain, got a little inappropriate.”
“Inappropriate?” she asks.
I grin at her. “Said something about your cleavage. Apparently he wouldn’t mind being suffocated to death between your breasts.”
She turns bright red. “He said that to you?”
“It’s actually an expression here, but yes, he shouldn’t have said that about the future Princess. I admonished him. Don’t be surprised if he sends flowers.”
I grin at her and she looks a little pleased, which surprises me. I figured she’d be really embarrassed to be the center of attention like this, but instead it seems that it’s bringing the best out in her. She’s thriving, despite all the hardship. And it’s a good thing, because we’re just getting started.
“Now, about Perko,” I say to her. “You handled it well. But I don’t like that he cornered you when you were alone.”
“He didn’t corner me,” she says a little defensively.
“He did,” I say. “He was waiting for that opportunity. I just don’t understand why he’d waste it bringing up some minor point of royal theology. What else did he say?”
“Well, he said that he hopes my relationship with him won’t be affected by his opposition to you,” she says.
I grin at her. “Of course he did.” I sip my drink, trying not to let my annoyance show. “He’ll use you if you let him.”
“I won’t let him.” She stares hard at me. “I’m only letting you.”
My pulse picks up as I watch her back. “You think I’m using you?”
“Of course you are,” she says. “I have to sit around and be your arm candy for hours at a time, and it’s not because I necessarily want to be here.”
I blink, totally taken off guard. “I’m sorry if I did something to upset you,” I say.
“No, I’m sorry,” she says, sighing. “I’m just exhausted. It’s really tough standing there in heels for hours and pretending to be interested in conversations you don’t understand.”
“I know,” I say. I put my drink down before sliding over onto her couch, sitting closer to her. “But I’m not using you. Or at least I am only as much as you’re using me.”
She sighs and sips her wine. “I know. It’s totally fine. That Perko guy just put me in an odd mood.”
“He has that effect on people. Just be careful with him, Mila. Don’t talk to him alone if you can avoid it.”
“I won’t in the future,” she says. “Listen, maybe we should call it a night.”
“Maybe.” I lean against the couch, looking at her. “I know this is hard. You’re doing an amazing job so far.”
“Thanks.” She sighs and looks at me.
I lean closer to her. “I like having you here, you know. It’s selfish but it’s true. Tonight would have been unbearable without you by my side.”
“I didn’t do anything to help,” she says.
“Just being there helped,” I reply. “You were the most beautiful woman in the room.”
“More beautiful than Minister Peekey’s mistress?”
I laugh at her, nodding. “More beautiful than her, definitely.”
“I don’t know about that.”
I grin at her and tip her chin toward me. “Believe me, Mila. Everyone was staring at you. Including me.”
“Why?” she asks softly. “I mean, I don’t get it. Why me?”
“You don’t see it yet,” I say. “But you’re beautiful and smart and put together. Everything about you is so fucking sexy, it’s hard to put into words.”
She watches me, mouth slightly open, and her fucking lips look so goddamn gorgeous. I can’t help myself. I’ve been holding back and acting with respect since we got here, but I’m sick of being respectful.
I lean in and kiss her. It’s like a fucking magic act, that first kiss. I’m hard instantly as our lips touch, and she lets out a soft moan as she kisses me back. I knew she would, I could see it in her eyes. I pull her body against mine and kiss her deeply, losing myself in it, tasting her, loving every inch.
Her tongue is warm and soft against mine and I can barely think. The kiss feels like it lasts forever before she slowly pulls back from me.
She looks into my eyes, and I know what she’s going to say. I wish she wouldn’t say it, because I want more. I don’t want to stop here. I need her, need her fucking body, and that kiss was only a tease. I know that if her kiss feels like that, everything else will feel so much better.
“I’m sorry,” she says. “You should go.”
“I should,” I agree, but I don’t move.
“We’re keeping this professional. Remember?”
“Your conditions,” I say.
“Yeah. My conditions.” She bites her lower lips and looks so fucking cute. That’s her nervous habit.
“I know you want to break the rules as much as I do,” I say.
“It doesn’t matter what I want. Please, let’s just call it a night. We’re both tired.”
“Okay then.” I don’t want to push her right now. I slowly pull away then stand. “I’ll see you in the morning, Princess.”
“Good night, Bran.” She doesn’t look at me, though.
I turn and leave the room. My blood is up and singing for her, but I know better than to try and take something before its ready to be taken. In this case, Mila wants it like I do, but she hasn’t accepted that just yet. She’s nervous and alone and maybe a little afraid. I have to be gentle with her, at least at first.
But once she’s mine, once she’s in my bed and moaning beneath my touch, I can be as rough as I want.
10
Mila
I dream about that kiss all the next night.
I didn’t want that to happen. I mean, I did want it to happen, but I knew it was a bad idea. I knew it was but I didn’t stop it.
Because I want Prince Billionaire more than I realize. If that weren’t obvious to me before, after a full night of dreaming about nothing but all the different wa
ys Bran can make my body feel good should make it pretty obvious.
I wake up soaking wet. I haven’t woken up aroused like this in a long, long time. I quickly get out of bed, trying to shake the dream. I hop into the shower, hoping maybe that water will help, but the image from my dream doesn’t go away.
Bran’s body, shirtless and slightly damp, presses me up against a wall. He kisses my neck and when I whimper, it only makes him laugh. He tells me how much he wants me, and how much he needs me, and how much he can’t wait for all of Bellestan to see. As soon as he bends me over roughly and slides his cock between my legs, I realize that he’s fucking me on a balcony overlooking an enormous town square. Every single citizen of Bellestan is down there watching as their Prince fucks his new Princess, and it only makes me want it that much more.
I get out of the shower, practically shaking with desire. I make some coffee but I still can’t get that kiss out of my head. When my coffee is done, I check my phone, and frown when I notice a message from my mom.
It’s a text. “Hi honey, haven’t heard from you in a while, hope you’re doing okay!”
I sigh and put my phone down. I haven’t told her the truth about what’s happening yet, and I’m starting to feel guilty about that. Maybe coming clean to my mom is exactly the distraction I need.
I grab my laptop, fire up Skype, and call my mom. It rings for a minute before eventually she answers, looking bleary-eyed and tired.
“Honey?” she says
“Hey, mom!”
“Do you know what time it is?”
Oh shit. I totally forgot about the time difference. “I’m so sorry,” I say.
“Is everything okay?”
“Yes, totally fine, go back to bed. I’ll talk to you later.”
Mom sighs and a light switches on. She grabs her glasses from off screen and puts them on. “No, I’m up now. How are things in, uh, what’s it called?”
“Bellestan,” I say, smiling. Of course she has no clue where that is, I barely even know and I’m apparently a fake Princess.
“Bellestan, right. How is it?”
“Good,” I say. “My boss is keeping me busy.” I regret that choice of words immediately.
“I’m sure he is,” she says. “That Bran is a tough boss.”
“He is.” I blink at her face and realize that maybe I’m not ready for this, but we’re here and I might as well go for it “Actually I wanted to talk to you about something.”
“What is it?”
“I’m not sure how to say this, so I’m just going to come out and say it. Bran and I got engaged.”
She stares at me for a second. “You what?”
“Engaged,” I say. “But not for real.”
“Not for real?” She shakes her head. ‘Honey, what are you talking about?”
And so I explain the whole thing from the beginning. She listens patiently, only interrupting when she has a question to ask. When I finish, I lean back in my chair. “What do you think?” I ask her.
She shakes her head, looking even more tired. “It’s a little unbelievable,” she says.
“I know. But trust me, it’s really happening.”
“Are you sure you want to do this?” she asks me.
“I’m positive,” I say. “Don’t worry. I’m really safe.”
“Honey, I just don’t want to see you get hurt. And this is so odd.”
“I’m being careful, and Bran is taking care of me. Plus, when this is all over, I’m going to have whatever job I want.”
Mom hesitates then smiles. “Do you know what you want yet?”
“Not yet,” I admit. “I’ll figure that out soon.”
“Well, listen, honey. I don’t know if I really understand what you’re doing. It sounds pretty crazy and maybe a little illegal.”
I laugh softly. “It’s not illegal.”
At least, I don’t think it is.
“Either way. Immoral, then. You’re lying to a whole country, honey.”
“I know. But it’s the only way Bran can save the family. And when it’s all over, we’ll have a fake breakup.”
She nods her head, looking concerned, but she’s actually handling this better than I expected. My mom is a Midwestern lady that goes to church every week. She’s a good person, a really good person, and I don’t want to disappoint her by running off with some foreign Prince.
“Just be careful,” she says.
“I promise, I’m being careful.”
She sighs and nods. “Well, look, I have to be up early tomorrow. Please, call me again at a normal time and we’ll talk more.”
“Okay,” I say, feeling better already.
“I love you, Mila.”
“Love you too, Mom.”
We hang up and I lean back in my chair.
It felt really good telling someone about this. It’s such a crazy situation and I hated keeping it to myself. I can’t really talk about it with Bran, since he’s so involved in it all, so it felt good to get a little outside perspective. I know my mom doesn’t approve, but at least she trusts me enough to believe that I’m being careful.
I just hope I really am being careful, or if I’m just getting deeper and deeper into this without realizing it.
I don’t have time to mull that over much, though. As soon as I start getting worried, there’s a knock at the front door. I get up and walk over, and again I find a box lying on the ground. I pick it up and bring it inside.
This time, it’s much smaller, so I can assume it’s not a dress. There’s a card on it, which I quickly open and read.
Princess, I’m sure you’re still stressed and worked up from last night. Here’s something to help with that. Love, your Prince.
I frown at the word love but I don’t sit around and think too much about it. I open the box and pull back the tissue paper, too curious to wait.
I gasp at what’s inside. It’s thick, long, and purple, and it takes me a second to realize what it is.
It’s a big, thick purple dildo in the shape of a royal scepter. At the one end is the crest of the royal Krizman family, the same crest that’s on everything in this cavern.
It’s a freaking royal dildo. I drop the box and stare at it sitting there on the table. I can’t believe this is in my apartment. Hell, I can’t believe this even freaking exists.
That cocky bastard. He sent me a freaking sex toy. I bite my lip, trying not to explode with rage. I don’t know what he’s thinking, but this is about as far from appropriate as it’s possible to get. He’s such an asshole it’s unbelievable.
And yet… I grip the dildo in my hand as the memory of my dreams last night come back to me. Yes, he’s a cocky jerk, and this is such an inappropriate present, but I have to admit that I have been feeling pretty tense. Maybe he’s right. Maybe I do need to relax.
Maybe if I use his royal scepter, I won’t be tempted to try the real thing.
11
Bran
Aleks meets me in the dining room for a little breakfast.
It feels good to be speaking Bellestanian again, as it’s been a while since I spoke it exclusively. I forgot how much of the language I really missed. For example, we have this insult in Bellestanian that roughly translates to “farmer who failed to plant his crops at the correct time and must resort to begging in order to feed his family.” It’s stupidly quaint, but it’s a real serious insult here. There’s also the standard “pig fucker” and “cow’s dick hole,” which are always fun.
Aleks and I don’t talk about anything of consequence, which is a hallmark of our relationship. He’s been living and working in Bellestan this whole time, barely ever contacting me, and we were once very close friends. We both have lives totally separate from each other, and yet we always end up talking about soccer matches or politics. I don’t know if he has a family or what, but it’s just the way our relationship is. Maybe it’s because we’re men, but we never seem to talk about anything important, which suits me just fine.
&
nbsp; I talk about important big issues enough with everyone else. I’m the Prince, after all, so people want to talk about the big problems facing our country, never about the good things my family and I have done for the people. Nobody wants to talk about how much money I’ve invested into the Bellestanian economy over the years, how I single-handedly brought Wi-Fi and wired internet into every single town and city and village in Bellestan. No, they just want to talk about what I’m going to do next. It’s never enough. Back home, it’s only marginally better. I’m the CEO back home, so I’m always dealing with some new crisis or another.
But with an old friend like Aleks, it is enough. I can just be a person. It’s nice that I don’t have to play any one of my numerous roles with him. I can just be a person, nothing special, just another guy.
When we finish, I step out into the hall and head back to the room. I barely get twenty feet before my Prince role reasserts itself in a very unpleasant way.
“Prince Branimir.” I look over and notice Blaz Perko stepping out from a side room and coming toward me. He smiles his creepy little smile and we shake hands. “How nice to see you.”
“Minister,” I say. “What are you doing down in the caves today?” The ministers don’t typically stay in the royal quarters for too long.
“Oh, just state business. I have a meeting with your father later today.”
“Well, have a good meeting.” I turn to leave, but Perko keeps pace with me. My guards fall back in step with his aides, and for a second we’re alone.
“I must say, Prince Bran, I’m surprised that you’ve come home.”
“Bellestan is always close to my heart,” I say, frowning.
“Yes, well, you certainly have invested enough money here, of course. Nobody can complain about that.”
“And why would they?” I ask him, annoyed.
“It just seems like the timing is very interesting. I supposed your parents are more worried about my party than I realized.”