Ali felt amazing, better than I could ever hope to describe. She dragged her nails down my back, dug her fingers into my flesh. The hot coil within me started to grow tighter, building up with more and more pressure until I could deny my primal urges no longer. My pace became more urgent, desperate for friction to bring me to the very edge.
“Sebastian,” she breathed against me, “I’m close. Please, I–”
I gathered up the last of my energy and thrust into her harder, listening in utter delight as Ali groaned in ecstasy. She grew tighter around my throbbing cock, providing me with just enough pressure to come undone myself. I came hard, my seed spilling into her. We shuddered in each other’s arms, dizzy as euphoria gripped at both our minds and bodies and refused to let go. I was suddenly aware of how hard we were both breathing, as well as how rapid my heart had been beating in my ear. I propped myself up on my elbows and slipped out from between her legs, a rush of cool air brushing against my now spent cock.
“I’m sorry,” I panted. “I didn’t mean to.”
“It’s okay.” She chuckled, still winded. “I’m on the pill.”
I lowered myself enough to kiss her softly, chastely. I couldn’t help but let out an exhausted laugh. “That certainly wasn’t what I had in mind, but I’m glad we got here.”
“I’m guessing this is one story I’m not allowed to recount for my friends back home.”
And there it was again—the bitter truth amid such wonderful pleasures. Alison was going to return to Sunyata at the end of the week. I’d known from the start that she was going to leave, but now it felt much too cruel. How could I possibly say goodbye–possibly forever–to a woman I’d just been afforded the opportunity to meet? How was it fair that I got to meet a beautiful, intelligent, distressingly sexy woman only for her to leave quickly after? I wanted to keep seeing her smile, to hear her bright laugh at all hours of the day. I wanted to know everything about her. What did she like? What did she dislike? I wanted a chance to get to know her, not just on a professional level, but a personal one.
“Alison,” I breathed, “may I see you again?”
She looked up at me with curious, wide eyes. “Sebastian,” she whispered my name. Something akin to worry flashed across her brow. “What if… What if someone catches us?”
The thought had occurred to me. The stories the local news media had picked up years ago had been based on nothing but false testimonies and drunken lies. But even so, they were enough to shake my flawless reputation and the people’s trust in the monarchy. What I had with Alison wasn’t a story made up by some attention-seeking, up and coming writer. We were two very real people trying to figure out what we were.
She had given me a taste of her mind at the first conference meeting. She’d given me a taste of her beauty at the gala. And now she had given me a taste of who she really was behind closed doors. I couldn’t deny that there was something here, something electric and new and exhilarating.
And I needed more.
“Is that a yes?” I asked her.
She sat up and searched my eyes. Her throat bobbed as she swallowed before she finally took in a breath and answered, “Yes.”
9
Alison
We had a very clear set of unspoken rules. The first being that while we were at work, we would only refer to one another by our official titles. I wasn’t allowed to call him Sebastian, only His Royal Highness. To him, I wasn’t Ali, but Diplomat Alison Smith. Our second rule was that we weren’t allowed to correspond via phone. There was always the possibility of wires being tapped, of emails and text messages being hacked. We needed to do things the old-fashioned way, passing notes back and forth with the assistance of Klaus and Patrick, to be burned after reading. And the last unspoken rule between us was, rather obviously—don’t get caught.
Klaus sighed as he took a seat beside me, passing me a large stack of documents. There was an envelope, sealed with the Prince’s crest, tucked between a few of the pages.
“I want a raise,” he grumbled.
“I’ll have to see about that.”
“I’m serious, Ali. If I have to deal with Patrick one more time, I think I’m going to lose it.”
“He’s not that bad to deal with, is he?” I giggled, discreetly opening up the envelope to reveal the message hidden inside.
Dear Diplomat Alison Smith,
Please allow my personal chauffeur to drive you this evening.
There is something I would like to show you.
Sincerely, HRH Sebastian IV
The message got the point across, while also giving no details whatsoever. This was obviously by design, just in case someone happened to pass by and read over my shoulder. I handed the letter back to Klaus, who promptly stuffed it away in his inside blazer pocket to burn on his next smoke break. I looked up at Prince Sebastian, who’d taken his seat on the raised platform at the front of the atrium. Our eyes locked, an instant understanding passing silently between us. Patrick stood beside the Prince, but he didn’t look as pleased as his charge.
“You see?” sighed Klaus. “He won’t stop glaring at me. He hates this as much as I do.”
“I think he likes you,” I joked.
“Let’s focus on keeping one scandal under wraps at a time, please,” he scoffed. “And besides, he’s not my type.”
The floor speaker took her place at the podium at the front of the room and cleared her throat. She looked about the room and smiled. “Let’s get started with today’s agenda,” she started. The woman then looked directly at me and said, “And hopefully, we’ll be able to follow the schedule as listed.”
I raised my hand in mock surrender, earning a stifled laugh from the Prince. To see him smile like that, even when hidden behind a hand, left my heart skipping.
The rest of the day went by without incident. Diplomat after diplomat had their turn to speak about key issues they’d like to address with the Kingdom of Wyvernbank. Most of it had to do with trade and economics, which honestly didn’t surprise me. Wyvernbank was a large nation, full of resources and opportunities for wealth. Every neighboring country wanted a slice, to join in on the prosperity, and what better place than to ask when the international spotlight was on you? It was always a lot harder to deny someone their request when the world was able to hear your response.
There were no secrets in the realm of politics, just elaborately spun half-truths and pretty words. That was the only thing I didn’t like about my job. Politicians before me were men of words, not action. When I finally worked my way up to the role diplomat, I fully intended on making changes. My negotiations with Prince Sebastian proved to my fellow dignitaries, as well as myself, that I was more than capable of getting things done. And if it hadn’t been for my bold tenacity, I probably wouldn’t have met the Prince.
I was admittedly very distracted throughout the remainder of the meeting. It was difficult not to notice the stealthy glances Prince Sebastian would try to steal. Equally difficult to ignore was Klaus’ heavy sighs every time he happened to notice.
“You two need to chill,” he warned me in our mother tongue. “Somebody’s going to catch on if you’re not careful.”
“Right. You’re right.”
“Can you say that again so I can record it? I want to play it on repeat.”
Time seemed to drag on forever, the second hand taking its sweet time to complete a full cycle about the clock face of my wristwatch. I was supposed to be paying attention to the Dulanian ambassador as he detailed his plans for a joint economic partnership between all the nations of the continent, but I found my thoughts drifting back to my heated evening spent with Prince Sebastian. It had all happened in such a rush that most of my memories were a blur in my mind. He’d been so wonderfully domineering, something that I wasn’t used to in my everyday life. I liked to be the one in control, the one with all the right cards. But hidden away behind the privacy of four walls, it had been surprisingly easy to submit to him as he had his way with me
, pleasing me in ways I’d never been before.
When the second conference meeting that week finally wrapped up, several diplomats attempted to grab the attention of Prince Sebastian, gathering at the front of the room before him. I was one of the very few who packed up their things in a hurry, ready to meet up with Prince Sebastian’s driver as I’d been instructed. But I couldn’t help overhearing the Dulanian ambassador’s words as he spoke to the Prince, eagerness bordering on obsessiveness in his tone.
“I wanted to thank you again for hosting the gala dinner,” Ambassador Clavets said in a hurry as Prince Sebastian got up from his seat and climbed down the three steps adjacent to the platform. “My daughter had a wonderful time. You remember Elena, right?”
“Yes, of course,” Prince Sebastian said slowly. “She was quite lovely.”
The older man laughed joyously. “I like to think so. She’s the apple of my eye. Would you perhaps be interested in seeing her again? She hasn’t stopped talking about you and your wonderful dancing skills.”
I looked up curiously, the tiniest feeling of jealousy gripping at my heart.
I’m too popular for my own good.
“Well, I–” stammered Prince Sebastian, caught off guard.
“Elena’s been going on and on about how interested in international politics she is. Perhaps I’ll bring her along for tomorrow’s meeting so she can see how things work. I know she’d love a chance to speak with you again, if that pleases Your Royal Highness.”
The Prince glanced over at me, exasperated. It was a brief look, lasting no more than a second, but that was all the time Ambassador Clavets needed to follow Sebastian’s line of sight. The bitterness in the old man’s eyes was undeniable, especially as he puffed out his chest and balled his hands into tight fists. He made sure to keep a professional smile on his face, but the friendly façade he wore was starting to drip away. Ambassador Clavets returned his attention to Prince Sebastian, chuckling uneasily. He opened his mouth, about to speak, but Patrick stepped in before he had a chance.
“I’m afraid His Royal Highness has a very busy schedule,” said the Wyvernbank advisor. “We really must be on our way, lest we keep our next appointments waiting.”
Ambassador Clavets bowed stiffly. “Yes, how silly of me. I wouldn’t want to keep your appointments waiting.”
Prince Sebastian and Patrick left without another word, leaving the disgruntled diplomat grumbling under his breath.
“We should get going too,” Klaus whispered to me. I nodded in agreement and exited the atrium through the main doors.
Outside the building, a black SUV sat waiting alongside the curb. A driver donned in the colors of the Wyvernbank Royal Family was there, already holding the backdoor of the vehicle open for me.
“Diplomat Smith,” he greeted, “right this way.”
“I guess I’ll see you at the hotel later,” said Klaus.
“Actually,” the driver piped up, “your presence has been requested, as well, Mr. Philips.”
“What? By who?”
“Royal Advisor Patrick Laurent.”
I turned to Klaus and smirked. “See? I told you he likes you.”
“That can’t be right. Are you sure?”
“I’m just the messenger, sir. Please, take a seat. I’ve been instructed to take you directly to the destination.”
I got into the vehicle, stifling an amused giggle as Klaus eventually followed, sitting next to me. We looked about the interior of the vehicle. The rear windows were all tinted for privacy, the seats were made of fine brown leather, and there was even a small fridge built into the armrest in the center of the backseats. There were various snacks like chips and cookies, along with an assortment of beverages like water bottles, Wyvernbank brand sodas, and even small bottles of liquor more commonly found in hotel room minibars.
I quickly realized that our driver was taking us down an extremely complicated route, circling full blocks only to end up in the same place a few minutes later before finally moving on. We weaved in and out of traffic, picking up in pace only to slow down.
“Excuse me,” I said, “how much longer before we arrive?”
“A few more minutes. I’m just making sure we aren’t being followed.”
Everything suddenly made much more sense. I couldn’t go from the conference hall straight to Prince Sebastian without being too obvious. We had to be careful, go above and beyond to ensure that our secret rendezvous was just that–a secret. It was only after another twenty minutes of navigating through busy streets that we finally pulled into an underground garage of a tall building in the downtown core. The driver pulled the SUV to a stop and got out of his seat, circling to the back to open the door for us. Klaus and I stepped out, looking over our shoulders to try to figure out where we were.
Patrick was already there waiting for us, leaning against one of the cement columns that held the garage roof up over our heads. He walked over and quickly slipped the driver some cash, paying for his silence.
“Where are we?” Klaus asked on my behalf.
“We’ll talk inside,” answered Patrick immediately. “Follow me.”
He guided us over to the metal doors of a private elevator. Patrick tapped a keycard to the gray reader directly beside, which beeped twice before the doors slid open. We followed him into the elevator as he once again tapped the keycard to a reader on the inside panel, beeping once before the doors closed and the elevator started to move upward.
“This building belongs to His Royal Highness,” explained Patrick, folding his hands neatly before him.
“The whole building?” I gasped.
“What does he do with all this space?” inquired Klaus.
“Whatever he wants to,” Patrick stated simply.
We arrived at the top floor of the building and stepped out into a large penthouse suite. The floor-to-ceiling windows offered a mesmerizing view of the city, looking out over the mountain ranges in the east and the faintest hint of the blue oceans to the north. The suite was lavishly furnished, and the walls were decorated with priceless art pieces and sculptures. There was even a water feature made of glass to my right, streaming down into a bed of pebbles and lush plants. I found myself looking around, searching for some sign of the Prince’s presence.
Sebastian stepped out, dressed in a tight blue dress shirt tucked into black pants. He’d shrugged off his uniform and looked distressingly handsome in the glow of city lights. He smiled at me, the corners of his eyes crinkling, as he spread his arms wide to embrace me. It was almost ridiculous how quickly I went to him, already feeling lightheaded and bubbly when he pressed his lips to mine.
“I’m glad you could make it.” He chuckled. “I hope the drive over was okay.”
“In all honesty, I thought your driver had gotten lost.”
“Are you hungry? Patrick’s already prepared us dinner.”
“Starving!” I laughed.
Patrick cleared his throat and turned to Klaus. “You and I have to talk.”
My personal assistant removed his glasses and started polishing the lenses. “What about?”
“If His Royal Highness is as serious about your diplomat as I unfortunately believe he is, then you and I need to speak in private about their collective security.”
Klaus turned to me and frowned. “Ali, is this what you want?”
I nodded. “I know you probably think this is reckless of us.”
“We do,” they said in perfect unison. They exchanged brief glances, surprised by their unrehearsed synchronization, before returning to me.
“I can’t tell you what I want out of this,” I admitted, feeling my cheeks heat up. “I just know that I would love the chance to get to know Prince Sebastian better.”
“And you’re okay with all the sneaking around that would involve?” pressed Klaus, replacing his glasses.
“Yes. Just until I figure out what this is. I think we deserve that chance, away from the public eye.”
Klaus
set his jaw, deep in thought. “Only if you’re sure.”
“I am.”
He turned to Patrick and shook his head. “Let’s talk details, then.”
“Very well,” sighed Patrick. “We can grab something to eat while we’re at it.”
After bowing to the Prince, they stepped into the elevator and disappeared behind the doors, leaving me alone with my Prince.
“I must apologize for Patrick,” said Sebastian softly. “He’s not usually this grumpy. Well, he is. But especially so today. He’s incredibly protective of me.”
“The same goes for Klaus.”
“I rather like him. He seems to have a good head on his shoulders.”
“I just hope they get along,” I mumbled.
Sebastian grinned down at me. “I wouldn’t worry too much. I think Patrick likes him.”
“That’s what I said.”
“Come,” he beckoned, taking my hand to lead me further into the penthouse, “I’ll give you a tour.”
“Where’s our first stop on this tour of yours?”
Sebastian threw me a wink. “The bedroom.”
10
Sebastian
The next couple of days had me feeling like an absolute teenager. I couldn’t remember the last time I felt this excited to see someone. Every morning when Alison walked through the front doors and took her place in the front row of the atrium, I felt like even the sun couldn’t outshine her. I felt stupidly happy whenever she smiled—even if it wasn’t at me—and weirdly proud whenever she presented her thoughts and ideas to her fellow diplomats. Alison spoke eloquently, gracefully, taking her time to pace out her syllables like a perfectly timed song. It was honestly an honor to watch her work, to shoot down the ideas of fellow colleagues who opposed her own views. She was fierce with everyone else, but with me, she was nothing less than an angel.
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