by Wood, Vivian
The way he is fucking me now is rougher, coarser than before… but for some reason I like it more. A lot more. I close my eyes, rubbing my clit, and feeling the brutal way he handles me, ramming into me over and over again.
An invisible spring tightens deep inside me with every thrust, feeding my craving. My fingers help me along, but it’s really Stellan’s cock that makes little ripples of pleasure swell and burst across my body.
He’s touching some spot deep inside me, a spot that I seem to be able to angle my body just so to encourage him to hit over and over again.
“Yes,” I groan desperately. “Yes, right there… I…”
And then I’m calling out his name, screaming it, as I go over the edge, falling into a deep ocean of pleasure. He stiffens and growls, filling me with three single, brutal thrusts. I can feel him pulsing inside my pussy.
He slows at last, half-collapsing on the bed with me. He turns me over, kissing me tenderly. I cling to him, feeling…
Loved? Freshly fucked? Overwhelmed?
I lay on his chest, listening to his rapid heartbeat as it begins to slow. My eyelids begin to droop, and my breathing evens out. I’m not asleep per se, but I’m not far from it. When he speaks, it startles me.
“Ready to go again?” he asks, his voice barely more than a rumble in his chest.
I open my eyes and squint at him. “Again?”
He chuckles, brushing my hair back from my neck. He places a long, lazy kiss on my bare skin. “You want me, don’t you?”
I bite my lip, but we both already know my answer.
It’s yes. It will always be yes, for him.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Stellan
Going back to real life after a full weekend of Margot seems like the world twisting a cruel knife in my gut. And yet here I am, back in the palace, going through my schedule for the next month with Erik and a young woman from the royal press office.
I try not to look completely disinterested as Nora pushes a piece of paper to me across the dining room table.
“These are the schools you are engaged to speak at this month,” she says, looking down at the stack of papers on the table in front of her.
“Mm,” I say vaguely.
Erik clears his throat, looking up from where he’s seated beside me. “Is that a ‘mm, I approve” or a ‘mm, I don’t approve’? Send a smoke signal. Help us out here.”
I consider him, frowning. Then I look at Nora. “I approve of everything you have to present me with today. I think we should wrap this up, don’t you?”
Nora flushes, rising and clearing her throat. She gathers her papers and bobs me a curtsy. “Your highness.”
I follow her to the door of the dining room, peeking my head out into the hall to make sure that no one is lurking around. Then I close the door.
Erik kicks his feet up on the table, scanning me critically. “What’s up with you? You usually tell the press office to cancel at least half of your engagements.”
I walk to the window, looking out over the gardens. “I’m distracted today, I guess.”
He’s quiet for a few beats. “Does this have to do with Margot?”
I swivel my head toward him, shooting him a glare. “What?”
He looks unruffled. “I know that you flew her up to meet you in Norway over the weekend. People talk.”
I look back out the window, my face contorting. “Pis,” I curse. I heave a sigh.
Erik stands up, stretching. “So? Did you two finally fuck?”
“Ja,” I admit. Then I think about what he just said and turn to give him a hard stare. “And what do you mean, finally?”
He rolls his eyes. “Please. You two were always going to fuck. I saw the future written all over your face when you first told me that Margot was going to be coming here.”
I snort. “You can’t have known that.”
“We’ve been best friends for twenty years. I’ve never seen you as far gone for a girl as you were when we left New York. If you think I didn’t pick up on the sparks between you two, you’re crazy.”
I consider that for a second and then nod slowly. “You’re right. I won’t deny it. We did fuck like two rabbits. On every surface, multiple times. Four times in the shower.”
A grin spreads across his face. “I knew it!”
“Ja, ja. You’re psychic.” I screw up my face. “I’m not sure what is wrong with me, though. Usually after I fuck a girl, I don’t think about her again. Margot is still in my system, I guess.”
I crack my knuckles, brooding. Erik walks over to where I’m standing, leaning his shoulder against the window’s frame. He looks at me carefully.
“Are you in love with her?”
Shooting him a dark look, I cross my arms. “What? No. I only recently decided that I don’t hate her, honestly.”
He smirks at me. “You know what they say about there only being a thin line between love and hate…”
I scowl at him, opening my mouth to retort. But I don’t get a chance. The heavy door to the room flies open, a butler hurrying to get inside the room.
“We’re having a private conversation,” Erik starts calling.
That’s when my grandmother steps into the room, her eyes narrowing at us. She looks as polished as ever in her white woolen skirt suit. “Mr. Moen. Your services are no longer needed. Take the rest of the day off.”
Erik’s eyebrows fly upward. He understands that my grandmother has way more power than he does; he bows to her, sliding a quick look my way. “Your majesty.”
“I’ll catch up with you tonight,” I tell him, waving him away. Then I turn to my grandmother. “You look lovely today, Momse.”
She gives me a look that is nothing short of withering. “Get your jacket. We both have an engagement at the Rigshospitalet, the children’s hospital.”
My eyebrows rise slightly. “I think I’m supposed to be at some kind of children’s puppetry thing in an hour.”
Ida stares at me coolly. “Meet me downstairs at the car in five minutes. Don’t keep me waiting.”
“Ja, of course” I say, but she’s already turned and is marching out of the room.
As I gather my dark suit jacket and add a dark blue tie, I try to figure out just what she wants with me. My fingers freeze as a stray thought crossed my mind: what if Ida somehow knows about Margot and I fucking?
Surely not… right? I mean, she would have to have spies everywhere for that to be the case. Trying to recount to myself the handful of people who would know and could’ve told her, I head down to the limo that is pulled up downstairs.
My palms are a little sweaty as I reach the car. She’s already inside. She’s small and frail, and yet… she carries herself with the kind of poise that a supermodel would kill for.
When I slide in, Ida waits until we start moving to eye me. “May I be frank with you, Stellan?”
I incline my head. “Please, Momse.”
She looks away, out her window. “Your grandfather was a mighty king. He was fair and just, but he was first and foremost Denmark’s king. Before me. Before his children.” She pauses, drawing a breath and pushing it out. “Having such a remote father figure had an undesirable effect on his children.”
My eyebrows rise. “On my father?”
Ida clears her throat, swinging her gaze around to me. “It was a personal failing, as I see it. I felt responsible. And I was determined that the next generation... that’s you, dear… I was determined that you should grow up with a strong sense of duty. And I hoped that your grandfather would be able to carry the crown until you were ready for it. But… that obviously wasn’t meant to be.”
I am more than a little surprised that my grandmother is being so forthcoming.
“I’m sorry about grandad passing.” I reach out and touch her forearm. She gives me a resigned smile and pats my hand a few times.
“Thank you. But that’s not really the point I am trying to make. I am trying to say that I am not omnisc
ient. I don’t see everything. I can’t always catch every little mistake and correct it before other people see it.”
Fuck. So she does want to talk about Margot. A solid mass of angst rises in the pit of my stomach.
“Momse...” I begin, trying to decide. Should I deny the allegations she’s about to lay against me? Or maybe it would be better to explain. “Let me—”
She cuts me off. “Stop.” She draws a line in the air with her hand. “Listen to what I’m saying.”
I settle back, looking at her with a blank expression.
“I need you to really take what I’m telling you seriously.” She pauses. “It’s time that you settled on a wife.”
I shake my head. “I don’t—”
“Stop talking for a moment!” she cries, her hands balling into fists. “You are not listening! We are out of time. Your father is not well. Do you hear me? He’s ill. He may need to be replaced at any time.”
My mouth opens and closes. My eyes are fixed on her small figure. “…what?”
“Your father is ill, Stellan. The doctors aren’t sure what is wrong with him, but he’s been forgetting things for a long time. And then last week he just fainted. We revived him but he had trouble with his vision… He was blind for almost a day.” She draws in a shaky breath. “I learned about it from a phone call. Gorän says it wasn’t a big deal, but I know he is wrong.”
A million questions race around my head, half of which Ida probably doesn’t have the answer to. I try to marshal my thoughts.
“Where is he? When are my parents arriving back home?”
My grandmother looks upset. “Your father is insistent that he and your mother continue on their world tour. I tried every argument I could think of… he will not hear anything different.”
“That’s…” I search for the word. “That’s absurd. He needs to come home and be checked into the hospital.”
Ida shrugs. “I quite agree. Do you think I would be here with you if I had the option of being by my own son’s bedside? But it’s not in your father’s nature to be told what to do or where to go. That leaves me in the rather precarious position of getting you ready for coronation. And the first step of that process is to find a suitable marriage partner.”
“It’s not like I have to be married,” I fire back.
She glares at me. “It’s what has always been done.”
“So?” I ask, defensive.
I blow out a breath, looking out the window. We’re driving through downtown Copenhagen and many beautiful multicolored building fly past my view. But I can’t even take that in; I’m just floored by my father’s illness and my grandmother’s demands.
“Stellan,” she says sharply. I look at her, trying like all hell to keep my emotions off my face. The last thing I need right now is for all my secrets to come out. And I swear, Ida has a way of just looking at me and knowing what is in my soul.
It’s time to chance the subject.
“I’m worried about father,” I say, hedging a little. Yes, I am worried about him… but there are other things, bigger secrets, that are in the forefront of my mind just now.
“Are you going to make me pick a girl for you?”
Startled, I frown at her. “Do you really think I would let you do that?”
She folds her hands in her lap and favors me with a hard look. “It’s not really an issue of what you’ll allow. I don’t want to select a mate for you. But if you don’t, I will.”
“Momse,” I say, my voice gone to grit. She looks at me, her eyes tightening. “I’m telling you right now. If you do that, if you so much as bring a single girl around with the purpose of getting me engaged, I will freeze you out. Don’t make me do that.”
We pull up to the children’s hospital just then. My grandmother doesn’t take her eyes off of me, though.
“Decide for yourself if you want to. You’ve got a month. Then I will start to make plans on your behalf.” The driver opens her door and helps her out, leaving me scowling after her.
“Your highness?” the driver says, looking in the car.
I don’t want to go inside, not after what Ida just said. But I’m finding that what I want rarely factors into any decisions when it comes to the royal family. So I just get out of the limo, rearranging my scowl into a pleasant smile.
There are a few photographers, and I raise my hand to them, waving politely. But inside, I’m a seething mass of anger.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Margot
“I’m sorry, madame.” The butler bows his head. “His royal highness Prince Stellan has stepped out rather unexpectedly.”
I wrinkle my nose, unsurprised. Of course Stellan doesn’t show up the day after we fucked each other’s brains out. Of course.
“Ah. Thank you.” I lift my camera from my tote bag. “Would it be okay with you guys if I just took some photographs? Just you know, the dining room and the salons…”
“Of course, madame. We have been instructed by the press office that you are to be given full access to the upper half of the palace. Will you need anything else?”
“No, no.” I shake my head and give him a halfhearted smile. “I’m fine.”
The butler bows and retreats, leaving me alone in the corridor just outside Stellan’s study. Biting my lip, I look around. I try the study… but of course, it is locked.
What could I have hoped to find in there anyway? Stellan’s private diary with all his innermost thoughts jotted down just for me?
Unlikely.
Besides, he’s made enough of a statement by just not showing up than anything I could’ve read.
I just wander the halls, opening doors at random. Mostly I find the rooms empty or filled with the ghostly shapes of furniture with the dust covers on. Climbing the stairs, I am drawn to the elegantly draped window that dominates the end of the hall.
I snap a few photos of it, and then draw the see-through curtain aside. Aiming my camera lens down onto the street, I catch an unexpected sight.
A flash of a familiar hair color. It’s bright red, like a candy apple.
Yeah, that’s got to be Pippa. And she’s wearing a loose white romper and beaming at a man. She says something and he picks her up, whirling her around. When he stops, she kisses him. Then he glances my way, laughing.
My eyebrows fly up. It’s Lars Løve, Stellan’s younger brother.
Whoa. That is a hell of a secret to keep, especially for someone as chatty as Pippa.
Pippa bats at his arm. He puts her down and then heads off at a loping run. Pippa turns like she is going to walk somewhere, maybe to our apartment or the offices of Politiken.
I stuff my camera in my bag and sprint downstairs, catching up with her in less than a minute. She looks at me, her blue eyes widening.
“Margot!” she squeaks. “I haven’t even seen you since Thursday night. Where have you been?”
I chuckle. “Do you really think you’re just going to distract me with a question like that?”
A hint of pink lights up her cheeks. “What?”
“Did I just see you kiss Lars on the lips just a minute ago? You two looked pretty comfortable…”
She tosses her fiery hair, glancing around. The blush spreads further across her cheeks and darkens to a red hue. “Shh.” She pulls me further away from the palace. “It was just a one time thing. No need to announce it, okay?”
I grin at her. “Umm, wow. I had no idea that you were sucked into the royal family like that.”
She throws up her hands in front of her face, hiding. “It’s… complicated. Lars and I go way, way back.”
My eyebrows rise. “What? Tell me everything!”
She peeks at me from behind her hands. “How about I tell you everything over a cup of coffee? I haven’t had any caffeine today and I’m dying.”
“It’s a deal,” I say, putting my arm around her. “There’s a coffee shop around the corner. Come on, let’s hurry so you can spill your guts all over the place.”
>
Pippa rolls her eyes but doesn’t resist as I pull her along. I wasn’t kidding about the cafe being really close; when we turn a corner, there it is, all glass and pastel colors inside. We order and then take our seats outside.
I lean forward eagerly. “Tell me everything,” I demand.
Pippa wrinkles her nose. “I met Lars when I went to St. Malo, a prestigious boarding school in Switzerland. And before you even start, I want you to know that I only went to a school that the Danish royal family would send their child to because I was offered a full scholarship.”
I shrug. “I wasn’t judging.”
Her shoulders relax a fraction. “Oh. Well… yeah. I’ve known Lars since we were both just kids. He was a year older than me at school… and he was also my first kiss.”
“Whoa. That sounds like a relationship.”
She glances at me sharply. “It is definitely not a relationship. It’s just… a friendship that has lasted a long time. It’s complicated.”
I stare her down. Is she for real? It seems like she really believes it, but I’m not sure where I stand.
The barista brings our drinks out and Pippa makes a big deal of thanking her and sipping her latte. I level her with a long look.
“So if you’re just friends, what happened between you last night?”
She flushes. “Too much wine. We just… fell into old patterns.”
“Old patterns like sleeping together?” I ask, scoffing.
Pippa looks down at her latte, running her finger over the white cup’s handle. Her mouth twists with humor, but I see a faint echo of sadness on her face too. “Yes.”
I take a sip of my latte, savoring the creaminess of it while I look at her. “Why are you two not dating?”
She looks up, a little bit of alarm on her face. “Well, for one thing, neither of us is interested in being tied down. Also, not to put too fine a point on it, but there are a million expectations of anyone who openly dates a royal. Not the least of them being that you are well bred and well behaved… and looking for a ring.”