by B. B. Hamel
I turn off my treadmill and grab my towel, wiping myself off. I’m still a little sweaty and my heart is racing, but I can’t tell if that’s from being tired or from nervous excitement. I walk back through the hotel with Markus trailing close behind me, and I barge back into our bedroom. Markus stays behind as I shut the door.
Bran is in the bathroom and I can hear the shower running. Taking a deep breath, I barge into the bathroom and Bran looks at me, completely naked and dripping wet. The shower is basically just a glass box, so there’s nothing hiding his body from me.
At first, he looks shocked, but quickly his surprise changes into a huge grin. “Couldn’t help yourself, could you?” he asks.
I take a deep breath and look away from him. I can’t look at him and have this conversation. He’s so damn attractive, with that big, thick cock of his, and those muscles rippling down his large frame. “Can we talk?” I ask.
“Sure. Take off your clothes and join me. We can talk all you want.”
I shake my head. “Get out.” I grab his towel and hold it up to him.
“Is this important?”
“Maybe. Just humor me and put something on, okay?’
“Fine,” he grumbles, turning off the water. “But it’d be better if you joined me in there.”
He steps out and takes the towel from me, He wipes himself off before wrapping it around his waist. When he’s covered, he leans up against the sink and crosses his arms.
“So, what did you drag me out of the shower for?” he asks.
I look at his handsome face and I realize that I’m making a stupid mistake, but I plunge ahead anyway. “I saw a news story this morning,” I say.
“About what?”
“About you cheating on me.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Really?”
“Really,” I say. “They had pictures and everything to prove it.”
“Did they?” He laughs, shaking his head. “What channel were you watching?”
“I don’t know,” I admit. “Markus says it was a bad program, one only crazy people watch.”
“I think I know the one,” he says softly, still smiling.
“Listen, I know this is nuts. But if you are sleeping with other women, can you be a little more… discreet?”
“Mila,” he says.
But I push on. “I know this isn’t real. I know this is just a business thing, and we’ve been busy lately, and I’ve maybe pushed you away a little bit. I’ve just been worried about doing that while we’re traveling and, I don’t know, maybe you need to get it from somewhere else.”
“Mila,” he says again, stepping toward me.
“Just, don’t get caught, okay? You can do whatever you want. I’m not really your fiancée. Just don’t embarrass me, I guess, if this is what you need.”
I hate myself for saying this. I don’t mean a word of it. I want to beg him to stop, tell him how much I need him and want him, apologize for stupidly pushing him away and being frigid this past week, but I don’t. I’m afraid that’ll only make things worse.
But he steps up to me and pulls me against him. I’m surprised as he presses me against his gorgeous body, still slightly damp from the shower.
“Mila,” he says again. “I’m not sleeping with anyone else. It’s just some bullshit smear campaign.”
“Really?” I ask.
“Of course.” He looks down at me, a smile on his face. “But I like that you’re jealous.”
I look away. “I’m not jealous.”
“You very clearly are. But believe me, you’re the only one I want. I know this has been hard, which is why I haven’t been pressing you, but I think about it every day.”
“You think about what?” I ask, almost a whisper. My heart is beating fast and I realize that the only thing separating me from this man’s gorgeous naked body is a thin white towel.
“Fucking you,” he says. “I think about your perfect lips wrapped around my big thick cock all the time. Do you know how badly I want you, Mila? Despite all of this, the only thing I really think about is fucking you.”
I bite my lip, a jolt of excitement and desire running through me. “Is that true?”
“Fucking hell, it’s true,” he says. “You can’t tell? I think it’s obvious.” His smirk is driving me insane, and that’s when I notice it.
He’s hard. I can feel him getting harder as he stands with me pulled against him. And it reminds me all over again of how thick he is and how good he feels deep between my legs.
I look up into his eyes and I realize how stupid I can be. I shouldn’t believe some garbage I see on some early morning channel that maybe ten other people are watching. I should trust Bran, since he’s done nothing but be good to me.
And now, I want to be good to him.
I drop down to my knees in front of him, and he takes a step back.
“Mila,” he says.
“Shut up.” I reach up and pull the towel off his waist, revealing his hard cock.
“Fuck, girl,” he grunts as I take him in my hand. “I thought you were going to punch me in the face just a minute ago.”
“I can admit when I’m wrong. Are you complaining?”
“God, no,” he says as I slowly stroke his shaft. “I’ve been dreaming about you down on your knees like this for days.”
“Have you?” I ask. “What else do you dream about?”
I lean forward and take him between my lips as he starts to talk to me.
“Fuck, I think about that body. Do you know how sexy your sweet round ass is? I want to watch you slide back and forth on my cock as I slap that thick ass and make you moan.”
I suck him slowly at first, taking him deep into my mouth and sliding my hand down along his shaft. I take him into my throat and slide back, getting him nice and wet and stroking him with my hand.
“I think about the way your cunt just wraps around my big cock and slides down along it, soaking wet, dripping wet for me. I think about how easily I can stretch you out and fill you up, deep inside your tight little spot.”
I suck him faster, my pussy dripping wet as he tells me what he thinks about. I can barely control myself. I need his cock in my mouth. I want to make him feel good, maybe as an apology for believing those lies for a second, but mostly because I’ve been needing his taste all this time. And it drives me crazy to know that he’s been thinking about it too.
“I think about my hand in your hair, my cock sinking between your legs as I pull it and make you my fucking dirty girl. I think about fucking you hard, rough, making you scream, making you sweat. Goddamn, girl, I want to feel you come on my fat cock again. I want to hear you moan in my ear as you lose all control. I love making your legs shake as my cock slams inside of you.”
I take him deep into my throat and suck him faster, sliding up and down. He groans and presses me down, fucking my lips with his cock, and I can barely fit him in my mouth but I’m not stopping. I can’t stop right now. I need to taste this, I need it so bad.
“Fuck, girl, I think about this, just like this. I think about you swallowing every drop, because I know you can’t help yourself. You’re my little fucking slutty Princess and I’m going to have what I want.”
I let him slide into my throat and I know he’s close. I want it so badly I can barely breathe. I jerk his thick cock with both of my hands as I suck the tip of his cock faster and faster, working him, trying to get him off, trying to make him feel good.
He comes hard in my mouth and quickly I slide down his shaft. He comes into my throat and I swallow it all, every single drop. I don’t let up, sucking him faster and harder as he comes, making him groan with pleasure.
Slowly I finish, but before I’m done, I clean him up with my tongue. I look up at him and smile. He pulls me to my feet, pins me against the door, and kisses me deep and slow.
It feels so good to finally touch him again. It’s almost like we’ve been apart for this past week. We’ve been so busy, maybe we forgot that this
was the best thing. Slowly the kiss breaks apart.
“Now, want to finish that shower with me?” he asks.
“Maybe,” I say.
“Maybe?” He laughs and pulls off my shirt. He practically rips my sports bra off as he kisses my chest and neck and teases my breasts. “I’ll make it worth your time.”
“How will you do that?”
He drops to his knees, pulls off my shorts and panties, and presses his face between my legs.
“Bran!” I say.
“Beautiful,” is his only response.
“Come on, let’s get in the shower,” I gasp as he licks my clit.
He laughs and stands, taking me by the hand. He turns the water on, gets me into the stream, and pins me again the wall. He doesn’t hesitate to drop to his knees again as he starts to suck my clit and lick my pussy.
He gets me off in record time. One second he’s down on his knees, and the next I’m coming in his mouth, moaning his name, my whole body on fire with need and desire.
Afterwards, we shower together, and I think that might feel as good as anything else. Sure, there’s still danger and we’re still going to be busy, but now I feel like we’re complete again. I feel like we’re getting back on track.
I didn’t know how badly I needed this, but now it’s obvious. I can’t get through this without his touch.
22
Bran
My head is swimming with Mila all day long as we do press interview after press interview. It’s exhausting, nonstop, and a real pain in my ass, but it’s important and I can’t turn back.
I think we’re starting to have an effect. My PR team is in contact with a polling company that operates out of Switzerland, and they say that there’s a slight uptick in the royal family favorability based on their polling data plus internet data mining. If that’s true, I think it must be because of all the time we’re spending pushing the royal family’s good qualities and combating all the bullshit lies that Perko has out there.
I’m exhausted at the end of a long day. Mila is still stuck debriefing with the PR team, probably dissecting every single thing she said, plus trying to teach her a little more Bellestanian. I have to admit, she’s taking to the language surprisingly well. I thought it’d take her much longer to pick it up, but she’s starting to be able to string really simple sentences together just from basic tutoring at night.
I’m alone in our room, reading a newspaper, though really I’m holding the newspaper and staring at the print while I slowly drink a whisky. I could go online and kill time that way, maybe check in on how my fucking company is doing, but I just can’t bring myself to try. It’s eleven o’clock at night and I’m going to wait until Mila gets back before going to bed.
As I sip my whisky, there’s a soft knock at the door. I know that’s not Mila, since she’d just come in right in, and I doubt it’s a guard since it’s so soft. Curious, I stand up, glass in hand.
“Come in,” I call out.
The door opens and shuts, and my mother steps into sight. She smiles at me. “Hello, honey,” she says.
“Mom,” I say, surprised. Last I heard, she was back at the castle bunker, doing whatever the head of our spy agency does. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to see my son, of course.” She walks over to me and I kiss her cheek. I notice that she’s holding a thick file folder in her hand, and she’s wearing her black dress uniform. She looks like she’s here in some sort of official capacity, though I have no clue for what.
“Well, let’s sit,” I say, gesturing over toward the little side table. ‘Do you want a drink?”
“Please,” she says. “Whatever you’re having.”
I pour her a glass and top mine off before sitting down across from her. It’s strange to be in a hotel room with my mom, since I’ve barely ever seen her outside of the castle. At least it’s a nice hotel room.
“Cheers,” I say, and we clink classes. We drink before she puts her glass down and puts the file folder on the table between us.
“Okay,” I say. “You have my curiosity.”
“Hard not to be curious about a folder like this,” she says, smiling slightly. “All I had to do was put it down in front of you to get you talking about it.”
I grin at her. Mom is the master of the spies for a reason. “I assume that’s why you’re really here.”
“Of course.” She frowns at me suddenly. “Bran, we have to talk about your fiancée.” She stresses the last word.
“What happened?”
She spreads open the file folder and begins to lay out some documents. There are receipts for trips I don’t recognize, receipts for dinners I never went on, and a bunch of photographs of Mila and I that I’ve never seen before.
“There have been… questions,” she says to me.
“Questions?” I raise an eyebrow.
“The press isn’t as stupid as you think they are,” she says, chiding me. “Your little paper trail didn’t hold up to scrutiny, as it turns out.”
I don’t know if I should be insulted. “I spent two days faking all that.”
“You should have spent a week.” She sighs and gestures at all the papers. “This is your relationship with Mila. I’ve taken the story you’ve told the press and fleshed it out. My team planted fake evidence all over the internet, including these doctored photographs.”
I pick up one of the pictures. In it, I’m wearing sunglasses and a bathing suit, and Mila is wearing a bikini. We’re embracing somewhere on a beach. I have no clue who took the picture, but I guess that’s a worthless question to ask, considering it’s completely fake.
“Creepy,” I say.
“Lucky,” Mom corrects. “You’re lucky you have me and my team. If it weren’t for us, the press would have seen through your ruse a few days ago.”
“Did you have to bribe someone?” I ask her.
“Threaten, actually,” she says casually. “But don’t worry about that. Memorize this story. Make sure Mila learns it. And don’t fuck up again.”
I feel like a little kid again getting scolded by his mother. But in this case, my mother is the Queen of our country and the head of our spy agency. She’s one scary lady, and when she tells me something, I typically listen.
“What about Dad?” I ask her. “Is he still in the dark?”
“He is,” she confirms. “I think your judgment was right. The King has enough on his mind right now. He doesn’t need another secret to carry around.” She pauses a moment and glares at me. “Especially a very, very stupid secret.”
I grin at her. “Thanks, Mom.”
“Don’t thank me. I’m doing it for my country. If it were up to me, I’d let you get caught.”
“Harsh,” I say.
“Yes, well. You could use a little reality check sometimes, Bran. You’re not immune to the world’s harshness.”
“I was almost killed recently, if you remember,” I say.
She grins at me and finishes her drink. “Please, honey. Don’t exaggerate. Surviving an assassination is a rite of passage for royalty. You got off easy.”
I sigh and smile at her, drinking my whisky. “Are you in town for long?”
She shakes her head. “Just long enough to see you. But there’s one more thing.”
“Yes, mother?”
She leans back in her chair and watches me for a second before speaking. “Branimir, you really do need a wife,” she says.
“I thought we were done with this.”
“We’re far from done,” she says. “I don’t know how you feel about Mila, but I’ve come to a conclusion about her.”
“And what’s that?” My heart is beating fast in my chest and I realize that I’m nervous to hear her opinion. If she says that I should end things with Mila and find someone more suitable, I don’t know what I’ll do. My mother’s opinion is important, especially since I’m a royal and family controls a lot of what we do. More than that, she’s a good judge of character.
&n
bsp; If she says Mila is no good, I might have to listen, even if that rips me apart.
“I want you to be happy,” she begins. “There are plenty of suitable matches out there. Hell, I have a list, if you’re ever interested.”
I can feel myself sweating a bit. “I’m not interested.”
“I thought not.” She purses her lips. “Mila is from a poor family. She’s a foreigner. She’s an American. She doesn’t speak our language. She knows nothing of our customs. You barely even know her.”
I feel like my world is crumbling. “Okay,” I say. “I understand.”
“No, you don’t.” She sighs. “Mila is too good for you, idiot boy. All of that is true, but she also came here and helped you when she didn’t need to. She’s smart, beautiful, and the country loves her despite all of those failings. Bran, if you have any feelings for her at all, make this fake engagement a real marriage. And do it soon.”
I stare at her, surprised. “You approve of her?”
Mom stands up and laughs. “Approve? Of course I do. I just hope she’ll have you.”
I stand up, relief flooding through me. I don’t know if my mother knows how much I value her opinion, but this just confirms everything I already suspected. Mila is incredible, and I’m lucky to have her. And I’d be stupid to let her get away.
“Thanks,” I say softly, kissing Mom on the cheek.
“I’m going back to the capital now,” she says. “Please be good. And send Mila my love.”
“I will.”
Mom gives me a look and heads to the door. She pauses before she exits and looks at me. “One last thing.”
“Yes?” I ask her.
“Don’t fuck this up.” She smiles at me, winks, and then she’s gone.
I watch the door for a moment and feel relief flood through me. I head back over to the table and sit down in front of the files. I slowly start to page through them, trying to piece together the story of my fake life with Mila while thinking about the real life I actually want to build.
23
Mila
I have to admit, I feel good. I didn’t think I would at all during this trip, considering how much I’m working, but I do.