“Yes, Bastian and I have been seeing each other for a little while now.” There was no need to lie, embellish or defend what we had, so I stuck to the truth.
“Well,” he said smiling, “he seems quite taken with you. How did you two meet?” he asked. I filled him on how part of the Archives had burned and how Bastian made his speech and then how we bumped into each other. “Ah, I thought I sensed some strong headedness in you—although, that’s a compliment, mind you.”
“Not at all,” I assured him. “I think that’s why we work so well together. He quite enjoys the fact that his title doesn’t sway my judgement.”
Grabbing my hand, Nikola spun me away from him. I was getting the hang of this dancing, though I felt odd being slightly taller than the Prime Minister, given my heels.
He seemed undeterred being shorter than me, and I wondered in his years of service, just how many women he had to look up to.
The music concluded and I thanked Nikola for the dance, telling him it was pleasure to have met him.
But between the champagne and my pained feet, I needed to use the restroom.
Nikola pointed to the nearest one and I excused myself. To be honest, I needed to collect myself for a moment. The actual act of relieving myself was a bit more complicated. I’d really like to know how Cinderella went to the loo, given that her skirt was three times bigger than mine.
I wished Zara was here; I knew she’d be good for holding the yards of fabric up while I went. What she had coached me on though was a trick: gather your skirts, she said, and then you’re going to sit facing the wall and go. If not awkwardly, I did it, thankful of the fact that I’d forgone a pair of hose or Spanx.
In the end, I managed, and as I came out of the stall, Luna was reapplying her lipstick in the mirror.
Taking the high road, I squared my shoulders and smiled at her through our reflections in the mirror.
“Elisha, right?” she asked, obviously playing dumb.
“Alana,” I corrected.
She gave me a sad smile that said she pitied me. “Elisha, Alana, it doesn’t really matter.” She flipped her hand in the air, deprecatingly. “Like all of them, you won’t last,” she said, her words hitting me with a force that was unexpected.
I was all for manners and making a good impression, but it was clear that Luna was the type of woman who liked to bully, use her connections to intimidate, and chew people like me up and spit them out.
“However do you mean?” I said coquettishly. “You know nothing about Bastian and me,” I challenged.
Her laugh was on par with the evil stepmother from none other than Cinderella, rich with its condescending tone.
“Like I need to know anything. You’re nothing but a boring book lover. What Bash sees in you is a complete mystery.” Turning, she blotted her lips on a tissue before discarding it. “You don’t share a history with someone like Bash and not have a connection with him. Do you know how close we are? How we even had our own private little place where we used to do all sorts of elicit things—right here at the castle, no less!” she proclaimed, satisfied with having the last word.
I decided I didn’t give a damn what she was trying to do here, but I spoke to her, face to face and with a tone of finality I’d hoped would convey my message.
I tsk’d at her, my own version of being condescending. “It must be hard having everything handed to you, only to have the one thing you truly want never quite within your grasp.”
Her face paled. I’d hit the nail on the head, venturing a guess at the fact that she’d never been able to win Bastian’s heart.
Luna stared at me, really taking in my appearance, and at the last moment, her eyes paused.
“Is there something in my hair?” I asked, theatrically touching my temple. She didn’t answer, so I continued. “Oh, these…” I said, gently touching my new earrings. “Yes, well, you see, Bastian gave these to me tonight. Had them custom made for me even; such a thoughtful gift for not having been together for too long…”
I let my words linger, allowing the gravity of my gift settle in. She said nothing, finally speechless for once, but glared at me with a thousand daggers.
And in a less than finer moment, I said, “Try eating your lipstick next time; maybe it’ll make you prettier.” And I left without a glance back.
Once the door was closed, I leaned against the wall and took a deep breath. Did I really just go toe to toe with the Prime Minister’s daughter, a friend of the royal family?
Oooh, she made me see red, the anger boiling to the surface, threatening to ruin my night. I would not let her have that power over me.
“Love?” Bastian asked, striding towards me, concern etched on his face. “Are you alright?”
“Yes, yes I’m just fine,” I said, mostly to convince myself. He offered me a lopsided smile, unconvinced. How he could look so handsome while being concerned was baffling. “I never told you how handsome you looked tonight,” I said, getting my mind off the toxic encounter.
“So, tell me now,” he said, tracing a finger down the side of my face.
“Take me somewhere private, and I’ll show you.”
“That could be arranged,” he replied, a devilish grin behind his beard.
Hand in hand, Bastian led me to a landing outside. Most of the guests were inside dancing still, but a couple was enjoying the evening as we paused at the railing. Recognizing not only Bastian, but the obvious fact that we were seeking solitude, they nodded and returned inside.
The stuffiness melted away in the dying light, an orchestra of crickets replacing the five-piece band.
The vast expanse of the grounds could be seen from the top of the double staircase. A fountain sat in the center, stone benches bracketing it, and an impeccable labyrinth of hedges lay just beyond.
“Look, I know this had to be hard for you tonight, Alana,” Bastian said as we descended the staircase to the left. “But it means the world to me, and as I told you, everyone is smitten with you.”
I laughed at that, a certain privileged snob coming to mind.
“You disagree?” he asked, as we made it down the last step.
Did I tell him and risk ruining the evening, or brush it off? “I just needed some air. And to answer you, I doubt everyone likes me. And that’s fine; I may not be everyone’s cup of tea.”
“Let me guess,” he ventured, turning me towards him. “Luna said something to you.”
I really needed to work on my transparency. How could he have known that?
“I saw her practically follow you in the restroom like a bloodhound following a juicy scent.”
Well, that explained that. Figuring it was best to just get it out and move on, I told him about our confrontational conversation, omitting my suggestion to eat the lipstick. I wasn’t proud of my cattiness, but it did feel pretty good saying that to her.
“I see. And you—my feisty, sexy, intelligent woman—you’re going to let her shallowness ruin your evening?” he asked. Bastian had a very fair point. “And if I were to venture a guess, she bragged about the two of us having sex everywhere, right?”
He was either psychic or I really needed to up my poker face. I laughed a little more forced than intended. “Ha, she uh, did say something of the sort. She was quite proud of the fact that you two were ‘so close’ and did ‘all sorts of elicit things, even here at the castle’,” I replayed.
“You’re fresh meat, love. Everyone who knows Luna knows she’s full of shit,” he said dismissively. “She likes to make things out of nothing, and bend words until they make her look better. In her eyes, you were an easy target, so bravo for not backing down.” I felt better hearing that, mostly because his tone was confident.
He pulled me close, his hands resting on my bare back. His hands were warm and reassuring, and his simple touch was enough to make me start thinking of things other than her.
“I’m sorry, I’m trying and up until that, I was having a lovely evening.”
&nbs
p; Bastian traced his finger up my exposed spine, sending a chill over me. “I think I know how I can make it lovely once more,” his erection pressing into me.
Heat pooled at my center with the innuendo. Remembering the way he touched me in the car earlier and his plans for me in my dress tonight, I began looking around for a suitable place.
“This way,” Bastian said, reading my thought with a sense of urgency in his voice.
He pulled me along, my hand in his. We walked along the outer edge of the maze, until a stone wall became visible. A little farther down was a door that looked like it hadn’t been opened before.
A thick coating of moss had covered most of the stones, giving it the illusion of a three-meter-high wall of greenery. Bastian looked left and right, and deciding we were alone, he pushed the iron door open and we snuck inside.
Hiding behind the verdant perimeter was a park-like setting: a manicured lawn blanketed the ground with a trickling stream running through it. Crawling groundcover lined the banks and beyond a tiny footbridge was a weathered wrought-iron bench swing.
“This is magical, Bastian.”
“I never looked at it that way until now,” he said, pulling me into a deep, consuming kiss. His tongue collided with mine, guttural groans coming from both of us.
Neither of us were in any rush to come up for air, euphorically content surviving on each other’s breath alone. Nothing about Bastian was lost on assumption; when he wanted something, he said it. When he needed something, he went at full speed.
There was no doubtful thought as to what it was he was currently going after, the raw passion evident in his actions and fervor.
“Alana,” he sighed, breaking our kiss momentarily. “I need to be inside you.” Suddenly I was lifted, and carried over the foot bridge where he gently placed me on the swing.
I went for his belt with a boldness that spurred my own desire. Bastian towered over me, pinning me with a lust-filled stare while taking hold of the chains on either side. He watched my every move, the buckle making a metallic sound in the quiet garden.
The thick outline of his cock was eye level and I wanted nothing more than to take him my mouth, pleasure him as he had done to me. But he had other ideas.
“Slide forward and lean back,” he instructed once his pants had dropped, making it clear that he was in charge.
I did as I was told, my dress sliding farther up my hips, my legs parting naturally for him. Bastian’s eyes were molten, his nostrils flaring as he grabbed himself and began to stroke his steely length.
I was soaked watching him touch himself, the sight of this magnificent man coming undone in front of me. With one hand he pulled on the edge of the bench, bringing himself level with my aching core.
“Move your panties to the side.” The second I did, Bastian slid inside me, hard and purposefully, causing a sharp intake of breath. “Christ, you’re soaked for me, love. Now, hang on.”
He grabbed the lip of the bench with both hands this time and began a torturous push and pull motion.
“Oh my god, Bastian…don’t stop,” I moaned. His arms worked with powerful endurance, the muscles in his forearms bulging underneath his jacket. Each time he’d let up and start to slide out, he would pull me back forcefully, the differences in pace and intensity bringing me to a new level of ecstasy.
“Look at me fuck you, Alana. Do you like seeing my cock coated in your cream?”
Good lord. As if his words weren’t enough, I looked down at where our bodies were joined, the sight turning me on even more. I was finding myself experiencing a lot of firsts since being with Bastian.
Never had I been with anyone who spoke the way he did, I’d never felt like an object of desire, nor had I ever had sex on a swing before.
Bastian picked up his pace, his hips driving into me as fast as his arms could handle and I felt myself precariously close. I had been hanging onto the edges, and now, gripping them tighter, I shifted slightly. The new angle allowed Bastian to be deeper, and I could feel the tip of his cock as it hit my G-spot.
“Ohh,” I hissed. My head fell back, the stars above us twinkling in their infinity. “Bastian don’t stop!”
And he didn’t. He was relentless until my name was on his lips as his orgasm pulsed through him, emptying himself deep inside me.
I came seconds later, my body clenching, toes curling and heels pulling him closer.
We were still, Bastian holding us in place, suspended in our own reality, this special bubble we had created and weren’t willing to leave quite yet.
His chest heaved, sweat had broken out over his brow and I knew there would be a mark on my back from the pattern of the bench.
“Fuck, Alana…” he said, releasing the swing and zipping himself up. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asked, meaning the bench.
Holding his hand out to help me stand, I did, stretching my back muscles. “Not at all. I feel more like a newborn deer though,” I laughed, trying my legs out.
Bastian placed an arm around my waist and winced when he saw my back. “That’ll be a bit hard to explain as we make our exit.” He shrugged off his jacket and placed it over my shoulders. “Here. Everyone will assume you caught a chill.”
“You think of everything don’t you?”
He smiled, kissing my cheek. “You may be the smart one, but I can be clever from time to time.”
“If you say so…” I teased.
We began our walk back to the party, and nobody was the wiser as we said our goodbyes.
Once we were in the car, I checked my phone, the time and a lack of messages on the screen. I smiled to myself; thirty-nine minutes after midnight and I hadn’t been changed back to my former self. Nor had the car turned back into a pumpkin. Perhaps Bastian and I had staying power after all.
Chapter 12
Bastian
A month had passed since the Jubilee. And it had been a frustrating four weeks. Frustrating in the fact that I hadn’t seen nearly enough of Alana as I’d like.
Between duties, traveling and her work, we’d had a total of three nights together. On the rare occasion that our schedules meshed, it had become customary for her to stay with me at my apartment.
On the nights we had, we made the most of it, fucking until the early hours of the morning before falling asleep in each other’s arms.
And as soon as we’d fall into the smallest semblance of a routine, a five to seven day stretch would interrupt it, forcing us to return to our normal lives.
I knew she felt the same way, though she hadn’t voiced it, but all I wanted was for us to be together, to have her beyond the physical.
I thought of how nice it would be to simply have her around, a constant. How people did long distance was beyond me.
So, as I was flying home from a ten-day tour of Canada, I began planning a trip where Alana and I could be together, uninterrupted, and away from anyone.
Having my assistant clear my schedule for the long weekend, I knew I wanted to make this special for her. For us.
Call it selfish, but I wanted her to myself; I didn’t want to share her with anyone for any reason.
Solitude, privacy and time was on the docket, and by the time I landed, the plan was set. Now all I needed was Alana.
Henri had insisted on accompanying us to Alonnisos, Greece, since news of me being off the market had garnered an influx of popularity, but I assured him it was unnecessary.
Alana had taken everything in stride too. The pappz showed interest, but we were official at this point and once she confirmed that fact to them, they resumed their somewhat respectful distance and the questions had died down also.
She insisted against a detail, something she said was absolutely unnecessary. She argued that she was always in a public setting and, when she wasn’t, she carried pepper spray.
Neither of us had seen the three men from that day that had harassed us. Things were good.
After returning, I told her to pack quickly. Monday was a nat
ional holiday, so it was good timing for her to have a three-day weekend, and once her suitcase was ready, Henri drove us to the airport.
“Where are we going, Bastian? You didn’t give me much of a clue when you told me to pack a swimsuit and my birthday suit…”
“But they’re my favorite outfits,” I pouted. “You’ll see when we get there.”
We flew on the private jet, the reason twofold: I wanted Alana to enjoy the luxury it offered, but I also wanted to keep the destination a secret until we landed.
The flight wasn’t long at all, and soon we had landed at the private airstrip on the small island.
I had a car waiting for us. The convertible turned out to be a good choice; Alana had taken her sun hat off, and the wind was blowing through her hair, the warm rays of the setting sun turning it a rich caramel color.
She looked relaxed, excited and absolutely stunning. My dick hardened picturing how her skin would look with a tan, the bronze tone against her dark hair.
The road hugged the rocky shoreline before dipping down towards the sea to the villa we’d be staying at for the next seventy-two hours.
My family owned the area, and with the house sitting on the expansive point, it made for the perfect secluded hideaway. That, in addition to the fact that Alonnisos was hardly a tourist destination due to the cumbersome amount of travel time it took to get there.
The air was heavy with humidity, deliciously warm as it enveloped us, beckoning us to shed our stress, responsibilities and clothes if I had my way.
“I can see why you said Greece was your favorite place,” Alana agreed, crossing her arms over her midsection, taking in the view of the grounds, beach and ocean that made up the entire view.
I loved Greece for a slew of reasons, but seeing her in this light, her hair blown over one shoulder, the other exposed, it did something to me. My heart was at peace. Before she could turn around, I snuck a picture of her with my phone, capturing this moment, knowing nothing else could compare to it.
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