“Whatever do you mean?” he asked in mock innocence. “Can’t a man enjoy looking at a naked woman? I told you all that you needed was your birthday suit, so I just helped you change is all…” The corner of his mouth turned up slightly, pleased with his cheeky excuse.
In the beginning it had been easy to deny what I had felt for him. Masking it with annoyance and disdain was an easy coping mechanism, but it had taken less than an hour with Bastian for me to realize his heart.
I’m not sure I could pinpoint the exact moment I had fallen, but it had surely happened. I wasn’t naive enough to mistake lust for love.
Sex complicated things, I knew this, but what we had, what we were doing, felt a hell of lot more than just sex.
I was learning his nuances, and everytime he came, it was my name on his lips. I knew what sounds he made in his sleep, knew he’d pull his top lip between his teeth when he was thinking and when he was frustrated, he’d run his hands through his hair.
I imagined those idiosyncrasies were guarded otherwise, and I felt special knowing he was sharing a part of himself he had yet to reveal to anyone.
A thought came to me, and I knew just what I’d do for him tonight.
I had soaked in the tub earlier, indulging in the copious amounts of salts and oils that were provided. By the time I was done, the bathroom smelled like a spa and my skin was glowing from not only the sun, but the deep moisturization it had needed after swimming in salt water.
“Why don’t you take your time in here while I go make us some dinner?” I asked Bastian, as he placed a kiss on my bare shoulder, catching my eye in the mirror.
“If you weren’t already dressed, I’d ask you to join me,” he said pouting slightly.
I smiled, knowing exactly what would happen if I did join him. And I wanted to, except I wanted to proceed with my plan more.
When I heard Bastian close the glass door to the shower, I grabbed a few things and headed downstairs to start. It wouldn’t take long at all, and finding the ingredients, I set to work.
Soon after I was done, Bastian came down in a pair of shorts, his bare feet padding softly against the cool tile. He stopped momentarily when he saw what I had laid out for ‘dinner’.
“My god…this is much more preferable to real food,” he mused, referring to me leaning on the counter wearing nothing but a tied ribbon around my breasts and see through panties.
“Well, there is some food involved,” I told him, knowing he had most likely missed it, zeroing in on my anatomy as opposed to the bowl and champagne chilling in the ice bucket.
Bastian stalked over to me as I came out from behind the island holding the glass bowl.
“What’s this?” he asked, raising an eyebrow in question.
“I thought I should live up to my nickname of Sugar Tits, so I made a batch of frosting and the champagne is chilled, so…” I trailed off, leaving the rest for him to improvise.
He picked me up effortlessly and placed me on the counter, my earrings dangling back and forth.
“You’re getting quite the use out of these,” he commented, touching the diamond earrings he had given me for the Jubilee.
“I am now,” I smiled shyly.
“I like it.” He regarded the ribbon across my chest. “A gift in the truest form,” he said huskily, fingering the edge of the satin bow. But before he untied me, he stepped aside and went for the champagne.
The cork popped loudly, echoing my thundering pulse. His eyes never left mine as he placed the bottle that had bubbled over back on the counter. The effervescent liquid ran over his knuckles and in between his fingers.
I took his hand, bringing it to my mouth and I sucked a digit suggestively between my lips. Bastian’s nostrils flared watching as I twirled my tongue around his finger before releasing it with a small pop.
Tsk’ing me, he said, “Not now, love. Don’t distract a hungry man…” He finally took the ribbon between his fingers and gently tugged. It fell in a pool on the counter at my sides and once my breasts were bared and taught with arousal, he took the bowl from me.
“Uh uh,” I commanded. “You may hold the bowl for me, thank you.”
His eyes blazed with a heady curiosity, but he obliged. I dipped two fingers in the frosting and began to slowly smear it around my nipples. Bastian couldn’t take his eyes off of me, and in that moment I felt powerful.
His nostrils flared at the sight of me touching myself. “Lie back,” he instructed impatiently.
The cool marble hit my skin, causing goosebumps to break out despite the heat of the late afternoon. Reflections from the pool danced across the ceiling, their fractals of light creating a dazzling display on the shiplap.
Without warning, the chilled champagne hit my skin and caused me to arch my back. As fast as I was chilled, it was quickly replaced with a scorching heat. Bastian gripped the sides of my hips, bringing me closer as he lapped at the small pool that had collected in my navel.
His tongue trailed up and over my ribcage and by the time he was at my chest, he had fully crawled on the kitchen island, hovering above, his weight resting on his forearms.
“Now, if I recall,” he said, reaching over for the bottle, “when we met, not only did you have icing over your perfect tits, you were also soaked…kind of like this…” He slowly poured more of the champagne over my breasts, down my sternum and across my stomach. “I’d never seen anything sexier.”
“And if I recall, I was pretty rude,” I said, gasping as his tongue flicked my hardened nipple.
“You were, and that is what drew me to you. Now, be quiet so I can love you.” And then he wasn’t talking anymore. His mouth was on me, tasting, lapping and licking, enjoying the sugary mess I had become.
My hair was wet from where the champagne had run down my chest before finding a path down and around my neck. Bastian traced each liquid trail as he went, and after he made his way back down, he jumped off the counter top.
I suddenly felt the loss of him, but as quick as his absence was, his hands were on my hips, tugging at my panties. Bastian had managed to shed his shorts and once the last scrap of clothing was gone, he pulled me to the edge and lowered me onto his rock hard length.
“Watch,” he demanded. “Watch me make love to you.”
I looked down to where we were joined, the sight of our coupling erotic as he began to move, achingly slow at first. He was coated in my arousal. I stretched around him beautifully, his thickness filling me wholly.
I wrapped my legs around his pistoning hips, my arms went around his neck and then we were on the move. My back was against the wall suddenly where he pinned me with his strength.
“You taste so fucking good,” he said, lowering his head once more to my breasts.
It was exquisite, the combination of being completely suspended by his body while he tortured me with his tongue. My head lolled to the side, unable to do anything but give in to him, surrender myself.
I was aware of every sensation. The rasp of his beard. The ache in my hips from the amount of sex we’d been having. Bastian’s breath as it became more ragged with exertion. The dig of his fingers in my flesh as he held me. The delicate breeze of the ceiling fan across our naked bodies. The deep, delicious strokes of his cock.
It was too much and not enough at the same time, the dichotomy of emotions spurring me on.
“Oh, Bastian,” I moaned appreciately. “Don’t stop, you feel too good…”
“Hang on,” he said, and I was pulled away from the wall, his strong arms carrying me easily.
We left the kitchen, presumably on our way back to the bedroom when he began to climb the stairs. Right before reaching the landing, Bastian laid me down, and drove into me. Hard.
I didn’t care about the bruises I was likely to have, I didn’t care about how sore I’d be in the morning, all I cared about was being in the moment and feeling.
My heels dug into the step on either side of him, and from this new angle, Bastian was reaching me
even deeper. I cried out, knowing nothing would ever come close to this, the intensity unlike anything I’d ever experienced.
I reached up for his face needing to see him, to connect on every level possible. “Bastian,” I panted. He met my eyes, and in that moment, he saw me. Saw me for everything that I was and everything I was to become. His gaze reached past the walls I had put up, knocking down my defenses until there was nothing left but my soul, that belonged to him and no one else. “I love you, Bastian.”
A softness came over him, his features understanding the depth of my meaning. “And I you, love.” He kissed me then, his lips pillowed against mine, sweet, but earnest.
His kiss was binding, sealing the past and promising the future. Bastian moved his hands once again to my hips, picking up the pace until we were both on the brink on euphoria.
Neither of us looked away from one another, and as our orgasms ripped through us with a blinding intensity, we were finally replete.
That night, I slept spooned against Bastian’s side. It was the deepest, most sound sleep I had ever had.
Until it wasn’t.
I hadn’t heard his phone ring, but rather the shift of his weight as he answered it. I glanced at the clock and it was definetly too early to be calling anyone.
Pulling the sheet with me, I reached over and turned on the bedside lamp. Bastian had sat up, scrubbing a hand down his face.
“Yeah, put her through,” he said, suppressing a yawn. And then, “Mother? Is everythi—”
Bastian’s voice cut off mid sentence. Something bad had happened, I could tell that much, not just from the abrupt way his demeanor changed, but the frantic nature of the queen’s voice on the other end.
“I’ll leave at once,” he said, getting out of bed and reaching for random items of clothing. “Ok, yes, I’ll be there in a few hours.”
I hugged my knees to my chest. “Bastian?” I asked, expecting him to share the news he had just received. When he didn’t answer, I threw the sheet off of me and padded over to him. “Hey,” I said soothingly, reaching for his arm. The contact caused him to stop what he was doing and look down at my hand. “Is everything alright? What happened?”
He shrugged away from me, the motion cold and uncaring. “We need to pack, grab your stuff. We’re leaving.”
I had gathered as much, but still wasn’t any wiser as to why, though I began to get dressed and pull my clothes from the drawers.
Bastian was shoving things into his weekend bag, each one with more emphasis and anger.
“Talk to me,” I pleaded, moving closer to him, though cautiously.
“He’s gone!” he shouted, sounding angry because I didn’t know. “He…he’s dead and I’m needed back at the castle.”
My heart sank, hoping to everything holy that it wasn’t who I imagined. A call from his mother, the queen, in the middle of the night did not bode well.
I really didn’t want to keep pushing, asking obvious questions, but then again, Bastian wasn’t exactly giving me much to go on.
“Bastian, I’ll handle all of this, ok?” I said softly. “But please, tell me. Who’s gone?”
“My father.” His voice was faint and hollow, but it echoed through the room.
My fears for him confirmed, I did the only thing that I could.
I bowed.
He looked at me like I had sprouted two heads. “What are you doing?” he asked increduously. “I’m still just Bastian…”
But he wasn’t. Not now, not ever again.
“No,” I said evenly. “You’re my king.”
Chapter 14
Bastian
The next several hours were a blur. By the time my mother had called at a quarter past four, it had only taken us under twenty minutes to gather our things and get in the car, all thanks to Alana. She packed our stuff without hesitation, a silent track of tears down her face the entire time.
Somehow we made it to the airport and were back in Devmont before breakfast. Henri was waiting for us and we climbed in as he began the drive to Devmont Castle. Alana was pressed against me in the back seat, our thighs parallel while she held my hand.
The world hadn’t quite woken yet, the towns were still dim and sleepy, the day barely making itself known. The day just sort of got lighter, a milkiness and dull hue in lieu of the normal sunrise.
Normal. What was normal anyway? Nothing in my life would ever be normal again. My father was gone now, the world still unaware until my mother made the official announcement to the press. So, right now, the news was a secret, a life-altering piece of information that was only privy to a select few.
And me? The kingdom was now my responsibility, the crown and its duties were mine, and mine alone. Mother was widowed, now a dowager queen, and titles aside, she was now husbandless.
I was broken on so many levels; I ached for my mother who lost her true love. I felt the impending pain of the nation who revered their king. And I felt a pain so acute in my chest, it was unlike any other.
It was the only thing that was registering in my mind. Shock had settled in on the flight, and by the time we landed, I wasn’t even sure what was happening.
I was going through the motions like a programmed robot, hearing things, but hardly listening, nodding and shaking my head in understanding when all I was doing was answering people without knowing what I was really saying.
Alana was by my side as we entered the castle. She had been by my side since I had received the phone call, a pillar of strength I hand’t realized I had leaned on.
Upon entering, mother rushed into my arms and sobbed against my chest. I smoothed her hair in long, even strokes, not even noticing anyone else. She was still in her bedclothes, a heavy robe tied at her waist.
“How?” I asked, my chin resting atop her head. “He was in good health, no?” My voice cracked on the last word, my emotions getting the better of me.
“An accident,” she said. “He and the others had gone hunting and, and…” She couldn’t finish her sentence, completely grief stricken.
Not noticing him, Nikola cleared his throat and spoke to me. “Your Majesty,” he began with a nod. “We were on our stag hunt at Grudevo Estate when your father paired off with myself and Luna. The others broke off into three other groups and when we had spotted a particularly large buck, we began tracking it.
“Your father offered for us to take it down, and when I glassed the animal, a shot was fired before I even had a chance to pull the trigger.” His face was ashen, worry etched his features and his eyes were sunken more so than usual.
I held my mother against me as he recounted the story, hoping she could find comfort from me, wishing I could cover her ears and shield her from the painful retelling.
“Myself, nor Luna saw anyone but rest assured, Your Highness, everyone is being held and questioned as we speak.” Nikola stepped back, allowing us some privacy.
I hadn’t noticed, but he had nodded to Alana and she followed him out, gently closing the doors behind us.
“Do you want to see him?” Mother asked after her sobs had turned to hiccups.
I wasn’t sure I was ready, but I was going to need closure from such a profound accident that had taken my father much too soon.
“Come on,” I said, releasing her.
During its construction, Devmont Castle had a chapel that was constructed on its east side. Though it was small, it housed exquisite stained glass and had witnessed many special occasions, including my baptism.
Mother and I walked hand in hand, and once we reached the solid wood doors, two guardsmen who stood sentry over their former king, bowed to me and pulled them open.
The smell of incense and candle wax hit me, the air having a faint haze to it. There, lying on a table in the chancel, was father. The Devmontian flag was partially draped over him, and from where I was standing, he appeared to be merely sleeping.
Though the sun hadn’t risen, the light shown in from the ambulatory windows directly on him, casting
him in a muted glow.
The chapel was quiet. It was private and now it served as a viewing room. It was Mother that coaxed me, having evidently frozen in place. I felt like if I moved, my new reality would surely stick; I was a stranger observing someone else’s grief, not my own.
“Come,” she beckoned. “No one is here with prying eyes, it’s just us. You need closure, dear. You’ll thank me later.” She had suddenly changed, a newfound strength was in her voice, and I knew then, that if she could do this, so could I.
Father looked peaceful in his prostrate form, his hands clasped over his midsection. I was convinced if I waited long enough, I’d see them rise and fall with his breaths, but alas, that was a foolish dream.
Hesitantly, I reached out, eventually placing my hand on his arm. “Father…” It was all I managed to get out before tears started falling down my face in uncontrollable streams. What did I say to a man who was everything to me? A parent, a ruler, an example of who I strove to be?
Everything I wanted to say was was swirling in a vortex of chaos in my head. I felt Mother’s hand at my back, and then she spoke softly.
“Darling, Bastian is here now. This will be the last time the three of us will be together like this, as a family,” she said to him. At first, it jarred me that she was was so openly speaking to him as if he could hear us, but the more she went on, the more comforting it was. It gave the illusion that he was just asleep, and it encouraged me to finally speak.
“I didn’t plan on you leaving us so soon,” I started, “but how vain is that—thinking you can control time and events like you’re God. You taught me so much, Father. I’ll do my best to serve as well as you did, and hopefully I’ll make you proud.
“But beyond my new role, you taught me about life and love and how to be a good man, and for that I am indebted to you. I only hope that I can measure up to your character.
“Saying that I’ll miss you falls woefully short of the depth of the loss that I feel for you. But know, Father, that I vow with everything in me,” I said with a new found determination, “to take care of the country, of Mother, of the ones dear to us, and to rise above this tragedy. I will lead this country to prosper; our people will thrive and never be without a benevolent ruler.
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