The Royal Scepter_A Royal Baby Romance

by Cherise West

  “Please, yes,” I beg, my voice an intoxicated whimper. I milk him for everything with my hips, my body pumping back against his every thrust, my breathing reaching a fevered pitch, becoming tiny hungry whines each time I gasp for air. He fucks me harder and rougher and faster until I feel the explosion of pleasure along every nerve, reaching my shattering climax when he gives me one last, penetrating thrust.

  “Yes! Fuck, Erica,” he moans, pushing into my clenching and quivering orgasm with his heavy load, his cock bursting streams of messy seed inside of me, pumping me full of his hot release with wave after wave after creamy wave pumped inside my young body. Serene heaven grips my mind as I ride out the waves of my orgasmic pleasure on his dick, the thought of him breeding his royal heir in my little womb making everything feel so mind-blowingly perfect. We both breathe heavy, shoulders shaking, legs like rubber, the shower water falling over us in spurts, the steam swirling in tendrils around our spent bodies as we try to calm the raging fire inside of each of us.

  “Estefan…” I croon lewdly; he pulls my back against his chest, kissing up the side of my neck until our lips meet, fierce desire wrapping us as thoroughly as the hot shower’s steam does. “I’ve… I’ve never felt like this before. It’s like I didn’t… even know what it was to be treated so right before. Maybe I didn’t even know what love meant…” I take a wistful breath. “Maybe now I do.”

  “I know I do,” he rumbles, kisses leading along the side of my neck. “And it has everything to do with you, Erica. You, and no one else.”

  “Not even Louella?” I tease, returning his loving kisses as the shower washes away the sweat and sin coating our bodies.

  “I never loved Louella,” he grumbles, disgruntled. “Royals like to match-make, sometimes… and to the court of Velune, me marrying Louella made sense,” he says the word with disdain. “Sense to everyone in the court… not to me.”

  “I doubt it makes much sense to anyone,” I quip, pushing away from the wall, “…for Prince Estefan to be spending his time dating and sleeping with some little clueless blonde commoner-girl from the Velune markets.”

  “It makes a lot of sense to me,” he smirks, stepping back into the water, letting it flow over his rakish mane and down his roughly-hewn muscles. “Perfect sense, actually.”

  “And why’s that?” I quip, sassy, splashing dewdrops over my breasts and down my thighs, my femme petals still brightly blushing a pretty pink from the desire burning in my veins as I get to watch him naked.

  “You’re not a blushing bride who grew up tailored to marry a ‘prince’, nor are you a wicked gold-digger and power-hungry bitch like Louella. That’s pretty much all you find in the ranks of princesses,” he chuckles. “You’re free. You’re free to be yourself. And you’re utterly fucking hot. You’re Erica,” he says, dusk in his voice as he presses against me again, running his wet hands down my hair, washing my back and my flanks as I quiver under his tantalizing touch. “I’m not an ordinary prince… and I couldn’t live my life bearing children and sharing love with an ‘ordinary’ princess.”

  Estefan

  Another knock on the door came today. Marching boots. Erica hasn’t gone to the door, or even out to the market, in the two weeks I’ve been here in her apartment - Katrana always goes and talks to the soldiers who show up occasionally, wondering if she knows of my or Erica’s whereabouts. If Louella’s whispering into the ears of the royal court, I’m sure they’re looking for the two of us for different reasons - bringing me back to the castle to deal with her… and handcuffs for Erica. Not the sexy kind, either. The prison kind.

  “Yeah, we’ve already talked about this a couple times, with the other guardsmen,” I hear Katrana say to whichever guard troupe they have roaming the streets for me today. It’s been two weeks that Erica and I have been hiding out - can you imagine that, hiding out in my own kingdom? In its capital city, because of court drama? Katrana runs out for food for us - outside of her drunken episodes and silly attitudes, she’s quite helpful when she’s not snarking jealously at Erica or swooning over me.

  Worse than anything, though, I fear for the health of my father - who no doubt is heartbroken I’ve disappeared from the castle. If he should pass, with me nowhere in sight - I’ve no doubt Louella would do something stupid, perhaps a hungry grab for power. Louella and I were once engaged to be married - the royal ‘matchmakers’ and socialites in the court thought it the ‘smartest’ move for our kingdom. I have no doubt they’d side with her, even if she has no claim to the throne.

  “Okay, thank you! I hope you find… whatever you’re looking for,” Katrana calls out sarcastically, slamming the door shut behind her and ambling drowsily back to the kitchen. “They’re taken care of,” she mumbles, grumpy. “They were looking for you. Said it was ‘urgent family business.’ Whatever that means,” she yawns. Urgent family business. They haven’t tried that line before, and it has me on the defensive. It could just be a simple, silly line that Louella fed these guards in order to try to coax me out of hiding. My heart sinks in my rock-hard chest when I think perhaps it’s not - and that something really has happened with my family… maybe with my father.

  “Thank you, Katrana,” I hum, seated in the sheltered breakfast nook, away from the curious eyes of passersby or guards in the doorway. I rose early today - before daybreak, careful not to disturb Erica as I crept out of our bed. When the booming knock came, I had to rouse Katrana to deal with it, something which did not please her. (I don’t imagine waking up after the drunken night she had in any fashion was going to be particularly pleasant.)

  “I’m going back to sleep,” she mumbles in frustration. “Hopefully they don’t come back.”

  “They probably will. Maybe not today,” I sigh, reclining in my chair, my mind spinning in thought, “but I’m certainly they’ll come looking for us again.”

  “Fugitives, on the run,” she chuckles in muddled amusement, before a thought occurs in her drowsy mind. “…What do you… you know, plan on doing, your majesty?… no, like… offense or anything. Just… well, I don’t think you can hang out stuck in this apartment forever,” she shrugs. “Elsewise I’d better start getting some rent money from you.” I chuckle, though the question is difficult to answer. I don’t know that I’ve thought it through myself - I just needed out of that castle, and away from Louella, to be somewhere - with Erica.

  “I… I guess I don’t know,” I admit. “…My situation with your sister… puts me in a difficult place, with the royal court, and with my family. And my kingdom.”

  “Why?” she asks, perplexed.

  “Bearing a child with someone outside of the royal families of the kingdoms is against Velunian law,” I explain. “Centuries ago, the record-keepers and the kings of the past made it so, because too many illegitimate children between commoners and royalty were challenging for the throne. It’s considered treasonous against the kingdom, for a prince to violate that sort of law,” I say with a sigh. “It’s a difficult situation to be in.”

  “…So, uhh…” she taps her chin, still clearly confused. “…like, so what?”

  “…What do you mean?” I ask, blinking.

  “…You’re the prince,” she shrugs. “Who gives a damn what the law says? You’re the prince. You make the laws. Don’t you?” she smiles groggily.

  “I… I mean, I don’t directly, it’s more of a collective matter among the court,” I struggle to explain. “It’s…”

  “But you’re still the one who makes the motions, and all that, right?” she asks. “I dunno, your majesty. I’m just a lowly merchant girl, but if I was princess, I’d tell them to fuck off - the law says what I want it to say,” she adds. “That’s just my opinion, though.”

  “…Maybe…” I didn’t even think about it before she brought it up - but maybe she’s right. “…The laws were put in place for good reason. At the time. They put our city, our kingdom and the other kingdoms in danger…”

  “Laws can change,” she murmurs
. “Love shouldn’t. Right?…” she yawns again. “Something like that. Whatever. Anyway,” she drags herself lazily back down the side hallway to her bedroom. “G’night, your majesty.”

  I must admit - I never expected that sort of wisdom from a woman as base and crass as Erica’s sister. Maybe there’s something to it, though. A prince hasn’t challenged the tradition in hundreds of years - and what would happen if one did? Or if I simply declared Erica to be a princess? What could the court do, or say - with me as crown prince, the sole heir to my father?

  Lost deep in thought, I don’t hear the soft creak of the steps or the light feet treading upon them; head laying in my upturned palms, I ponder the impact such a decision would have on the kingdom. Finally, a soft step to the floor of the kitchen brings my attention darting to her - Erica, radiant even when she’s half-asleep, garbed in a soft-white, silk robe.

  “My princess,” I breathe, smiling warmly.

  “I couldn’t sleep without you next to me,” she frowns. “I tried, but… your heartbeat, not next to me, just… throws me off.”

  “So you were telling me the truth when you said you were getting addicted, hmm?” I flirt. “Going through withdrawal when I’m not next to you.”

  “I’d invite you to come give me another taste, keep me hooked on you,” she teases, her expression shifting quickly - to one full of worry. “But…”

  “…What’s wrong, Erica?” I ask, voice heavy with concern.

  “I’ve been… feeling under the weather, lately,” she says, blushes on her cheeks. “And… there’s just been some weird things going on, with… with my body.”

  “I remember,” I recall, nodding. “You said you’d been feeling sick and weak for a few days, and—”

  “Estefan,” she says, swallowing hard, “I think… I think I’m pregnant.” My eyes go wide.

  “You… you think you’re pregnant?” I repeat, dumbfounded.

  “I… I’m almost certain I am,” she says, her breath quivering. “I didn’t… didn’t know how to tell you, becaues I know you’ve been worried about this whole business, with the royal court, and the laws, and me… not being a princess, and—”

  “Erica,” I exclaim, standing up from the table. “What’s wrong with you? I’ve wanted you to bear my royal heir since the moment I saw you,” I declare proudly. “I can’t believe you’d think otherwise. Trouble or no, there’s nothing I’d rather hear than the fact that you’re having my baby.”

  “I… I am,” she says, her sassy exterior melting to joyful tears as I rush to embrace her close. The surge of emotions is too much - I couldn’t care less about the court or the royals or any of their snobbish bullshit. Erica is carrying my perfect heir inside of her - and that means there’s no other choice for me.

  “Your sister made a wise point, this morning,” I murmur into Erica’s ears while we embrace, kissing one another lovingly on the cheeks.

  “My… my sister? A wise point? Are you sure you should be taking her advice?” Erica asks skeptically. I chuckle.

  “She’s right about this, though,” I insist.

  “My sister, right about something? Now I know you were dreaming,” she flippantly jokes.

  “I’m serious,” I say, smirking. “I hadn’t thought of it before… though I should have. I’m the prince of Velune.”

  “…Yes, you are,” she nods, still bemused.

  “So. Why the hell do I care what the laws say? I make the laws,” I explain with a devious grin. “And if I want the law of the land changed, so that I can sleep with, marry and impregnate who I please - then why the fuck shouldn’t I change it?”

  “Is it… is it really that simple?” Erica blinks.

  “Not necessarily,” I chuckle. “Laws are… technically a matter of the royal court, coming to an agreement… but any proclamation I make, if I so choose, is law, and the court can’t do a fucking thing about it,” I explain. “My father has done it many times, when he didn’t trust the snakes in his court to do the right thing. At that point, the only trouble we risk, outside of the usual vipers and people like Louella trying to derail our marriage, is public outcry or revolt,” I consider with a sigh. “…and that won’t happen. My people like me - and they’ll love you. They’ll be dying to see the wedding happen - and when we make the announcement that you’re bearing my child, Erica, they’ll double over themselves in romantic joy.”

  “You… you really think that?” Erica says, her breath trembling.

  “I know it,” I repeat. And I do. Nothing my subjects like more than a beautiful wedding with a beautiful woman, and a prince they love - me. Louella and the court won’t even have a choice - the entire city of Velune will be smiling on our wedding day, and why wouldn’t it? Erica’s my perfect princess - and I’m her prince.

  “How… how do you change the law?” Erica asks. “Won’t they want to arrest us when they see us?”

  “My subjects can’t arrest me unless my father directly orders them to, and I doubt he has,” I rationalize aloud to her. “And they can’t arrest you, Erica - unless they go through me. And there’s not a single guard who’d dare harm me to arrest you. Sure, I’ll be guilty of contempt for interfering in your arrest… but, again,” I smirk knowingly, “can’t arrest me unless dad says so. So fuck the guards and the court. I’m doing what I want - and that’s taking you as my princess.”

  “I love you so much,” Erica whimpers, her face glowing in a blush as she kisses me along my cheeks.

  “And I love you—”

  Another loud pounding at the door puts us both on edge; we still haven’t grown accustomed to the sound, and we know every time it happens danger burns on our nerves. Katrana’s door swings open and she grumpily growls at us.

  “Just stay put, love birds,” she groans, “I’ll take care of it. Again.” Erica and I remain silent. I consider going to the door - storming right out there in plain sight, and telling the guards and all of Velune what I want - and what I’m going to do. Maybe now isn’t the right time, though - we should head right to the castle, quickly, to avoid any trouble.

  “Hello, miss,” I hear the guard at the door, polite. I recognize his voice - it’s Windham, a close friend of mine from the palace. Strange. Normally, palace guards don’t do these kinds of searches.

  “Listen, I already told everyone—” Katrana begins, aggravated.

  “Miss, please, I’m not with the city guard,” Windham comments, piquing my interest. “I’m from the palace. A friend of the prince’s. I know your sister and you live here - and I know who your sister is, and what she means to the prince. I’m not interested in arresting her. If she just has any idea where the prince is—”

  “My sister isn’t here,” Katrana rumbles. “I haven’t seen anyone, no princes or—”

  “Miss, this is an urgent family matter. The King, he’s… well, he’s quite ill, and I’m worried…” Windham sounds absolutely dour - something I’ve never heard from him. The situation must be dire. “Miss, the king, he’s—”

  “I don’t care about any king,” Katrana responds.

  “The king is on his deathbed, miss,” Windham’s voice roars. My eyes flash wide; Erica looks at me, her own just as concerned. “If we don’t—”

  “Windham!” I shout; Erica and I rush to the door. “Katrana, thank you for helping us—”

  “What? I thought you didn’t want to talk to the guards!” Katrana exclaims, annoyed.

  “This man isn’t like the others, and I do appreciate your help, I tell her; she groans, rolling her eyes and reclining against the doorway.

  “Prince Estefan!” Windham declares in surprise. “So you are here. Please, your majesty - your father… I hate to have to tell you this, in this sort of situation, but—”

  “Just… just say it, Windham,” I demand, clutching Erica tight. I hear the words in my head before he says them.

  “Estefan, your father… he passed, last night,” Windham admits with a discontent sigh. “The guards have been ou
t looking for you all night, some of them on my order - hoping we could pick you and your… friend,” he eyes me, “…up, before Louella goes before the council and tries to make any sort of claim towards the throne, because of your prior engagement to her. I hoped I could make some headway on my own,” he continues. Resolution steels my nerves.

  “Erica and I are ready to go back to the castle,” I speak firmly. Windham’s eyes flash with surprise.

  “You’re… no offense to the lady, your majesty, but— she’s a wanted woman right now. Louella told the royal court, and your family, about your affair with a common girl,” he speaks in a hushed whisper. “I think it’d be best if we left her out of any discussion—”

  “Windham, I love this woman and she’s going to be my bride - and not just my princess,” I glance with a smirk to Erica, whose eyes light up, “but now - my queen.”

  “Y… your majesty, I shouldn’t question your decisions, especially in this trying time, but— and, again, no offense to the lady,” Windham begs, nodding courteously to Erica over and over again, “I’m certain she’s deserving of your affection, b-but… the laws, the court - they’re considering Louella’s ideas because you have a treason charge hanging over your head, your majesty.”

  “I’m in line to be king now, am I not? And that makes my decrees carry the force of the monarchy - does it not?” I question. Of course, I know the answers. “A king - committing treason against his own crown? The laws have to change. They will change, Windham. Erica is my queen, and that is the end of the discussion.” Erica brims over with passion, kissing furiously along my neck.