by Xavier Neal
I blankly stare on.
“The movie…” She scoffs. “You’re fucking with me…”
“Need I remind you I’m not a six-year-old girl?”
“Yet you wear makeup like one.”
I do not!
Brie smirks, but explains, “It’s a Disney princess movie about these sisters. Anyway, during a private discussion with Amelia, she mentioned she wanted to wear the dress. I thought since she drew me a picture of you, I would draw her a picture and bring it to her…” When my eyebrows lift, she adds, “And the dress, shoes, and crown I ordered for her off line.”
“There it is…”
“I couldn’t help it!” She quickly pleads. “We just…we bonded! I want to make her smile. I want to see her get something she wants, you know?”
Her kind act warms my heart.
Never wonder what makes this woman truly amazing.
My mouth drops down to hers for a brief kiss. “You are quite thoughtful.”
She hums again and locks our lips again, this time wrapping a hand around my neck to keep me in place. My tongue teases hers while her other hand grazes the waist of my suit bottoms.
All of a sudden there’s a knock on the door. “Prince Kellan. Miss Brie. Dinner is being served.”
To my surprise, she breaks the connection, drops her legs, and quietly says, “It most definitely is.”
In a slow, agonizing manner, she undoes my pants, making sure to overdramatically drop my belt to declare her intention.
More than worth being late to dinner for.
“We’ll be down shortly,” I answer to send the butler away.
Brie hungrily smirks and makes haste in the process of removing my dick. The moment her warm hands clasp it, I let out a deep, pleased breath. Completely enraptured by the view, I enjoy the combination of her gradual strokes and light swipes of the head. Her tormenting steadily continues with her swipes transforming to tiny sucks. I grit my teeth from the delirious distress. The tip of her tongue spins around, tasting the pre-cum my body is enthusiastic to feed her. She allows for her hands to be an active part of the rousing misery by using one to jerk me and the other to give my balls gracious tugging. Urgency in my sac builds and my self-restraint weakens. My love gives me one final impish grin before swallowing my cock. The heat from her mouth and pressure from her hollowed out cheeks drops my head as well as my eyelids. She immediately sucks erratically, gormandizing my dick in delirious strides. Each time the tip of my cock hits the back of her throat, my legs threaten to give out and my balls tighten in desperation to empty. Brie bobs ferally until my body breaks, releasing hot liquid spurts against the back of her throat. While she doesn’t gag, her throat tightens as if it is considering the idea. Cautiously, she slides me out, making sure to whirl her tongue around in the process.
Unsure of how I’m still breathing, never mind standing, I let my wobbly body brace itself against the desk.
Not even sure I can make it downstairs for dinner now…
After a quick clean up, the two of us meet Kristopher and Soph in the dining room. During the salad, the conversation revolves around siblings. The girls discuss theirs and I learn more about Candice than I had previously known. Brie tells us tales of the two of them always having been polar opposites. For instance, Candice was a girl scout, Brie only cares about the cookies. Brie had a fascination with the Mona Lisa and mysteries surrounding it yet her sister worshiped the movie Mona Lisa Smile. Hearing the detailed account of their opposite behavior brings up similar stories from Kristopher and I as well as Soph.
From what I’ve learned, none of us are quite like the others in our family. Now that I think about it, neither is our father or his brothers…
“Love, just have a bloody bite,” I urge Brie between topics. “It’s just zucchini and mint soup.”
“Two words that should never be beside each other let alone soup.” She pushes around the contents of her bowl. The moment she crosses paths with a cherry tomato she gags. “Why can’t we ever have pizza? You know, something not drowning vegetables in other vegetables.”
I roll my eyes.
Sometimes I swear it’s like having dinner with a stubborn preschooler. Just last week I had to threaten her with no dessert if she didn’t at least try the braised lamb shoulder with the cranberry vinaigrette. Thankfully, we were here at the palace and not in public. There she always orders steak and some sort of potato. She’s seen the downside to her old eating habits with her father. I don’t know why she’s so reluctant to change. Hm? Oh, no he’s fine as can be according to the last time we spoke. Brie isn’t aware we returned to chatting occasionally, but it’s important to me her family’s mine, as much as it is to me that my family is hers.
After another bite of soup, I let my eyes settle on Soph across from us. “You alright? You’ve barely eaten, which is odd, considering you love grilled flat bread.”
“She’d probably love grilled flat bread pizza more,” Brie mumbles beside me.
My foot knocks into hers at the same time Soph leans back into her seat. “I’m just a little tired. That’s all.”
“From what? It can’t possibly be from sex with my brother. He would be an embarrassment at the elderly home.”
Kris prepares to defend himself yet she beats him to it. “Actually, when we have time for more than just a quickie, he would make the Flintstone’s jealous from the way our bed rocks.”
Brie and I break out into laughter while Kris buries his face down mumbling profanities to himself.
Father stomps into the room with a displeased expression.
Of course he was out of the room. Had he been in here we would’ve been bullied into social topics we’ve all had enough of. The Tenntinal has been going to extreme lengths to criticize every decision my father is currently making. The charities he’s supporting. The birthday parties he’s attending. Most of it is intended to undermine his ability to make decent judgment calls, all of course side cuts at my choice of fiancé. Yes. All of the shit is getting quite old. Quite fast.
“Why are you red?” He huffs at Kris as the maid places his soup down in front of him. “And why do I feel your brother is to blame?”
“His wife this time,” I hum before having a bite of my own food.
Soph shakes her head me. “Alright, Sabrina The Teenage Snitch, I’ll remember that.”
Kris folds his hand that’s on the table with her. “Actually, we were waiting for you to join us. We have an announcement we’d like to make.”
All our movements cease.
Proudly, he states, “The next Kenningston has been conceived.”
An unusual warm feeling spreads throughout my body.
Holy shit! I’m going to be an uncle!
“Conceived means he got her pregnant,” Brie over dramatically whispers to me.
I give her a sarcastic stare. “I know what conceived means.”
“Do you?” Soph joins the mocking as well as the laughing.
“What they both mean is congratulations,” my father states with a hint of reprimand in his tone.
“Of course!” Brie quickly squeals. “We’re super happy for you! Wanna hug?”
She winks. “After dinner.”
“Is this why you were so uptight about her running around the gardens last week?” I question.
Kris nods, but his wife replies, “He’s overly concerned about everything.”
“I don’t want anything to go wrong.”
“You’re paranoid.”
“Absolutely,” he states with passion. “You’re my wife. That’s my child. Yes. I am concerned with every little detail.”
Brie politely asks, “How far along are you?”
“Almost fourteen weeks now,” Soph beams. “Basically, since around Kellan’s birthday.”
I smugly smirk. “My birthday is a brilliant time to have sex.”
There’s a displeased sound from the end of the table.
What! It is!
“But w
ait. I thought you said she wasn’t pregnant yet,” my mind reels back to the brief time period of darkness I had spiraled into. “When we had our family discussion.”
“We didn’t know she was,” Kris informs. “And once we found out, we wanted to wait until we were through the first trimester before we announced it.” His eyes swing to fathers. “I didn’t want the stress of the announcement and parties to add an additional stress to Soph or the baby.”
Father nods. “It was a wise decision, Kristopher.”
He does something secretive, he’s immediately wise. I do something secretive and I’m irresponsible. I swear it’s hard being the younger sibling.
“You barely look pregnant at all,” Brie coos. “It’s…amazing.”
“I absolutely adore you.” Soph hits her with a smile. “I feel like I’m beginning to swell regardless of my exercise routine and being careful about my sweet tooth.”
“You don’t look like it at all,” my fiancé repeats. “You’re probably going to look like you swallowed a bowling ball.”
There’s another giggle out of her and Kris squeezes her hand. “She’s going to look stunning every step of the way.”
The warm feeling settles in my chest again.
Of course someday children would be nice, but I never thought I would want them soon. I’m not even saying that now. I was just merely wondering how Brie would look with her brown skin glowing and her stomach swollen from our child growing inside. How her body would introduce new curves to claim and features to worship. Is this a normal reaction to finding out your brother has knocked up his wife?
“We’ll set up the formal announcement for this weekend,” Father declares before adding, “Which is perfect timing. This announcement may take some of the pressure off of Kellan and Brie’s presence at the fall brunch.”
My sip turns into a slurp.
Surely I misheard him.
Brie peers from around me. “Excuse me?”
“The two of you will be attending the annual fall brunch in a few weeks along with Kristopher and Sophia. I think showing a united family front about this marriage is best. People have been speculating left and right that we are divided on this subject. That this marriage is a marketing ploy to send the media into a frenzy. I, along with our publicity team, believe showing up together will present the solidarity they need to see to possibly allow the topic of your marriage to focus more on your love than your difference in race. This move is also crucial to securing some funding that Kristopher’s foundation heavily needs. Unlike you Kellan, the investors he lost are still causing him quite a significant amount of difficulties.”
I adjust uncomfortably in my seat. “And you’re sure this is what’s best?”
Father lifts his flat bread and retorts, “I’m sure this is what’s happening…”
Uncertain of what to say, my attention darts to Kris’. He gives me a short shrug, surprised himself. When my eyes land on Brie the terror in them is unmistakable. I swiftly lift her hand to my lips to plant a reassuring kiss on the back of it, making sure to mask my own insecurity over my father’s impromptu choice.
This is going to end in a disaster. One giant, jaw dropping disaster. My only hope is that he’s right. We show them all The Kenningstons are all on the same team…I just hope when they realize it’s not theirs that the losses we will suffer aren’t too detrimental. Brie may not want me to give up my dream to pursue a life with her, but after the brunch, I may not have a choice.
Brie nervously fidgets with the gold bracelet around her wrist. Her body, which is covered in a brown off the shoulder, long sleeve, lacy, tea length dress, sways back and forth, tempting my imagination to picture her in the most inappropriate ways.
Which under any other circumstances I would completely be all right with, but standing outside the limo, moments from being judged by the Grand Inquisition of The Pretentious seems like a terrible time for a hard-on.
Her teeth sink into her glossed bottom lip and my cock begins to slightly swell.
That look is absolutely irresistible. It’s the action she takes right before she lets it go to scream my name as she comes. What? I know sex should be the last thing on my mind, but you can see how sexy she looks. Can you honestly blame me?
My arm slides around her waist. I lean over to press my lips against her ear. “Love, I need you to still that beautiful body of yours. It’s sending me messages I can’t answer right now.”
Brie leans back to see the devilish grin on my face. Reluctantly, her smile joins mine as she shakes her head. “Unbelievable. We’re seconds away from facing the Salem Rich Trials and you’re busy debating whether or not you can just lift my dress up and dive right in?”
The idea of her not wearing panties thumps my erection against my pants. “Can I?”
“Kellan.” My father’s stern voice deflates the situation.
Would be odd if it didn’t…
His hand lands on my shoulder, whatever conversation he was having with my brother now, finished. “I know your first reaction is going to be defensive of everything these people say and every look they toss at you, but I need you to control your temper. We need to handle this with class and tact. Do I make myself clear?”
Soph leans her face around his arm. “In other words, do not throw champagne in anyone’s face.”
“Have you done that?” Brie quickly questions.
“No,” I assure her.
She didn’t ask had I considered it. Different question.
“Kellan,” my father commands my attention. “Do you understand?”
Feeling like the unwanted child being dragged to the ‘adult’s party’, I quietly reply, “Yes sir.”
“Good.” He adjusts his bow tie and insists that we follow along behind him.
Brie folds her hand with mine and we slide in line behind Kristopher and Soph.
Casually, I lean over and quietly promise, “I will not leave your side the entire time.”
She offers me a small smile of appreciation.
Together the five of us travel down a long red carpeted path way and descend a set of stairs to the outside brunch being hosted underneath a large, luxurious white tent. From the ceiling, there are lights hung presenting a starry feel. The floor is solid to the point it’s impossible to even know there’s grass somewhere underneath it. Thankfully, the place is completely heated, allowing the women who chose more revealing attire to stay warm. All the tables are round, covered with white table clothes, and set with fall colored place settings. To the left in the very back corner is a band playing jazz music, giving the party a slightly less uptight feel than I was expecting.
I’m sure once we begin to talk to people it’ll return.
Father leads us around to various tables, making introductions of Brie and myself, our engagement, and announcing Soph’s pregnancy. Both subjects are stated with pride and joy that sounds genuine even if I’m still not certain it is. People immediately compliment on my sister in law’s lack of a bump, even though her brown high neck cocktail dress with a flowy bottom would conceal it perfectly if there was.
She lifted her shirt earlier this week, right before dessert just to prove there was something actually there. When I pretend to challenge her by calling it a food baby, Kristopher’s head spun off, and I quickly learned just exactly how defensive he is about the entire thing. Let’s just say Soph was not exaggerating.
After praising and loving on the fact the future king will be having a child, they direct their comments towards me, deliberately avoiding approval of my action, and choosing to chat about subjects such as my fantastic choice of wardrobe or something else that doesn’t have to include my date.
Eventually Kris and Soph take one side of the event while Brie and I are instructed to mingle at the other. My father maintains the guests he crosses in the middle, each of them pleased to see him and clearly displeased to see me.
I try to keep my focus on doing as I was requested. Smiling in the face of enmity.
Proving to my father that I am not afraid of the decision I’ve made on who to love. Standing up for what I truly believe in even if it means being alienated in a room full of people who have the power to change the world for the better as opposed to for the worse.
About two glasses of champagne in, Brie and I are talking to our third couple on our own. While the first two were brief introductions, both just long enough to say a forced congratulation, ask our wedding date, and then insist they’re already booked for the day.
As if they would be invited…
“It is a truly honorable mission you’re on,” Lord Lucas Wellington states from the seats across from us. He folds his thin hands together and tilts his elongated chin upward. “I admire it.”