The Royal Nanny

by V Vee

  Leyah tried to shake her head but was hampered by the hold Prince Alastair had on her. She slid her eyes closed when he growled and lowered his head to her neck. The whisper of his lips against the skin of her throat caused her to shiver and though she couldn’t be certain, she suspected Alastair—because she couldn’t keep thinking of him as Prince Alastair when they were pressed together as closely as they were—licked her. Her moan echoed his own when he lifted her slightly, causing his very hard, and very large erection to push against her center.

  Leyah relished in the feeling for a moment before her common sense kicked in. She pushed away from him and shook her head. She pointed at him, then waved her hand in front of him. She took another step backward, then turned to walk away.

  “Leyah,” Alastair called out to her. Leyah stopped and turned her head slightly in his direction. “I want you to know that I’m allowing you to leave right now, but our conversation isn’t over. I will make you mine.”

  The promise in his voice sent a shiver of fear through her body as well as a shocking surge of lust. She ignored those feelings and simply walked out the room, determined to do her job in order to complete her mission. The people of Waldakan were depending on her.

  Chapter Five

  A lastair strode into the darkened room, his gait sure, his body loose, and his mind… distracted. He took a moment to inhale deeply and find his center. It was bad Dom etiquette to engage in a scene when one wasn’t completely focused on the sub. It meant the Dom was much more likely to miss cues, not hear safe words, and end up abusing the person who’d put their trust in them by turning over control. And while Alastair was aware of that fact, he could not prevent his mind from drifting back to Leyah every few seconds.

  Shaking his head, he took a deep breath, exhaling all the stresses, worries, and problems from his day as he focused on the submissive woman kneeling, wearing nothing but a pair of thong panties, in the middle of the room. Alastair walked around her slowly, appraising her form. While he did not usually have a type when it came to women, especially his submissives, he did have a proclivity for choosing small, dainty, blonde women, with lips obviously enhanced by silicone injections—or whatever it was that women used to try and make themselves the ideal physical image they thought men wanted. However, tonight he’d had a specific physical type in mind.

  He stared down at the brown-skinned beauty, his fingers trailing down her neck, over her shoulders, her collarbone, and up to her chin. He lifted her face and stared down into her dark brown eyes. While the woman kneeling before him was a shade darker than Leyah, her high cheekbones, full lips, long, graceful neck, full breasts, and ample bottom, completely put him in the mind of the new royal nanny. Alastair licked his lips, hoping to catch a faint trace of the stubborn, elusive woman, from hours before.

  “Do you offer me your submission?” he asked in a harsh voice.

  “Yes, Sir,” the younger beauty responded.

  “Good. Thank you,” he replied. “Hands behind your back,” he instructed her and walked away, over to the sideboard where the evening’s toys awaited him. He returned to her, the soft, red, Shibari rope flowing through his hands. He ran the coiled strands over her nude frame, before wrapping it around her arms, wrists, and torso, making an intricate design. When he was done, he ran his fingers over the strips of skin left exposed by the rope. He smirked when the young woman shivered at his touch.

  “Do you like my hands on you?” he asked. He didn’t need the ego boost, her body let him know that she enjoyed what he was doing to her, especially as he could smell her arousal in the air. However, it was good for him, a Dom, to check-in with his submissive during a scene.

  “Yes, Sir,” she panted.

  Alastair merely nodded in response. Leaning over, he helped her to stand, before sweeping her over to the bed in the middle of the room. While no one really knew for sure that he was a member of the BDSM club, Alastair paid an exorbitant amount of money to ensure that the building was outfitted in the latest kink, taboo, bondage, and dominant toys and aids. Not only was the club: N’eubudia decked out and designed with the latest in toys and tools used by those in the Lifestyle, but it was staffed with those knowledgeable with what went on, as well as security to be sure everyone was safe. Not to mention the cameras in every room, hallway, etc. to make certain that everyone stayed on their best behavior. While the footage was never kept, for anonymity’s sake, it was something that could be pulled up and shared with local authorities if needed. So far, that had not been an issue.

  Alastair paid the dues and upkeep prices, so he could have a place to go and unwind, to explore and indulge in the side of himself that was even more extreme and “bad” than even the media was aware of. As he laid down the submissive woman on top of the bed, pressing her shoulders onto the mattress, he was thankful that he’d had her sign the NDA, his father would certainly disown him if he knew Alastair spent a lot of his free time.

  “Count,” he told the woman below him. Lifting a hand, he brought his hand down on her upturned buttocks, not as hard as he wanted to, but he had to warm her up first.

  “One,” she gasped.

  Alastair rubbed the skin of her ass, then slapped her other bottom cheek.

  “Two,” she moaned.

  Alastair quirked an eyebrow. Two slaps to the ass and she was already moaning? Nice. He shoved away the errant thought that arose unbidden as to how Leyah—Miss Meer—would react if he were spanking her bottom. She did not deserve a place in this room. He had to keep his focus on… dammit, what was her name again?

  Not wanting to spend precious moments laden with guilt as he tried to remember her name, Alastair devoted himself to the task of spanking her ass and rubbing it at different intervals. His hits and smacks to her fleshy bottom grew harder, until he finally stopped and lowered himself to his knees. He kissed one cheek then the other, licking and nibbling on the abused skin, his hands gripping and kneading the young woman’s ass.

  The scent of her desire rose up to his nose, and Alastair inhaled deeply. Mmm, she smelled delightful. I bet Leyah smells and tastes better, his mind tossed out the thought and Alastair cursed the rebellious and wayward statement. He reached up and tugged the submissive’s thong to the side and chuckled darkly.

  “I hope you’re ready my dear,” he said. “I’m going to eat your pussy like I’m having dessert at my favorite restaurant. Then I’m going to paddle your ass, then I’m going to apply my clamps on your nipples, then I’m going to fuck you so hard you won’t be able to stand, walk, or sit properly for weeks.”

  The young woman groaned with passion and Alastair smiled. “Yes, Sir. Please, give it to me, Sir.”

  “Good girl. Hang on,” he told her, before he set about fulfilling his promise.

  Alastair washed his face in the private bathroom he had at the club. He would fully shower at home, but he’d needed to wash away not only the juices of the woman he’d had in the scene—he’d finally remembered her name halfway through the scene, Margaret—but also the sweat that covered his torso, neck, and face, before he returned to the palace. An image of respectability had to be worn at all times when stepping out in public, on the off-chance that he was seen by the media, or Malvidencians who might be “offended” by his sexual, and extra-royal proclivities. It could definitely be tiresome to deal with on a daily basis, but Alastair was aware of the fact that he was privileged, and that was something he would not take for granted.

  Grabbing the towel from the warmer, he dried his face, neck, torso, and hair, before turning to pull on a new button-down shirt, jacket, and pair of diamond cufflinks. Once he was once again as presentable as he could possibly be without a full-length shower, his hair supplies, cologne, and other sundries that he used on a daily basis, Alastair opened the door and left the bathroom, the play room, and finally the club, nodding to those he saw and knew along the way.

  He climbed into his black obsidian, custom-built, 2019 Infinite Q70 5.6 Luxe. As he always did, Alas
tair ran an appreciative hand over the graphite leather interior with its Japanese ash wood trim. As he revved the engine, Alastair felt his cock grow semi-hard at not only all of the power he currently controlled in his vehicle, but at the thought of Leyah spread over the hood of his car as the engine hummed. He would bet that she would press her body closer to the hood of his Infinite, while simultaneously pulling him tighter inside of her center.

  “God dammit,” he cursed, slapping his hand on the steering wheel as he cruised along the darkened streets of Gröntälje. Needing to clear his mind of all things Leyah, the beautiful new nanny that he was apparently obsessed with, in spite of knowing her for only a few hours, Alastair turned on his radio.

  “Reports are coming out of Kuovala, Kristgerði, Vibazi, and Rikile of a number of attacks, acts of vandalism, and chanting by hordes of people. While there is no confirmation, it seems as if these attacks are all the work of the Rebellion, which, as our listeners will remember, is the name given to the people of Waldakan. While the leader of Waldakan, Princess Zameer has stated emphatically, and often, that the people of Waldakan are not given to violence unless provoked, one has to wonder what has exactly provoked these somewhat primitive and very aggressive people to behave in such a way. When we reached out to the princess, we were told that she was unavailable and is on a mission at this very moment to handle the problems and matters pertaining to Waldakan. We can only hope that means putting a stop to these riots and attacks. Stay tuned for more news at the top of the hour, and now, we return to the soulful sounds of American singer: Luther Vandross, a friend and favorite of the people of Malvidence,” the radio show host stated.

  Alastair’s hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, clenching around the leather. Those people, he scoffed. While not all Waldakans were problem starters, there seemed to be an exorbitant amount of them who were angry at the kingdom of Malvidence for no reason, whatsoever. King Callum had tried repeatedly to establish a peace treaty, and an alliance, with the Princess of Malvidence, especially since her parents both died when she was a young woman and she’d had to assume the mantle of leadership at such a tender age. While his father had told Alastair, the advisors, and his brothers that the princess had been courteous, respectful, yet with a steely determination that he admired, she had still refused their offer of peace and alliance, citing a shared history. Alastair hadn’t known then what she meant, but now with six different Waldakans working in the palace—and no, he wouldn’t think about the fact that one of them was Leyah—Alastair felt compelled to learn more about the seemingly troubled nation of people.

  As he took the turn onto the street where the palace lay, Alastair was so focused on what he could and would possibly learn about the Waldakans, that it took him a moment to realize that the streetlamps that usually lit his way to the back of the property were all out. Once he did, it was entirely too late. A loud popping noise sounded from outside, and he found himself swerving his car as one of his tires were blown out. He didn’t even have an opportunity to curse before his head slammed against the steering wheel and his entire world went black.

  Chapter Six

  He lay hidden by the bushes on the side of the road watching as the prince’s car swerved in the middle of the street before coming to a halt by slamming into a tree. A small, smug smile stretched across his lips as he observed the smoke rising from the hood of the expensive vehicle. With any luck the car would catch fire and rather than just maiming the man, or injuring him in the automobile accident, Prince Alastair would actually die.

  It was a shame that he had to take matters into his own hands, and especially against Prince Alastair—who seemed like a good sort, in spite of his domineering personality—but he had a mission to fulfill. There were a number of people counting on him and Prince Algerone and his American family had escaped his clutches with their lives. But, no matter, this time he would not fail. He would feel the blood of the royal family of Malvidence streaming through his fingers and flowing over his palms, just as he’d promised his father, and just as he’d promised her. The loss of life of one of the Princes of Malvidence was a small price to pay in the grand scheme of things.

  Looking over at the two palace guards he’d beaten and shot, before leaving his unique signature on their flesh, he shrugged and rose to his feet. He couldn’t tarry out here to make sure the prince was sufficiently injured or that he might possibly die. He had to return to his post, resume his unassuming identity and feign shock, sadness, and anger, just as the rest of the family would once Prince Alastair’s body was discovered.

  Gathering his black bag containing his weapons, bullets, knives, wigs, masks, and prosthetic noses, he put everything away neatly then headed towards the palace’s back entrance. It was time to get into character.

  L eyah closed the door to her suite and breathed a sigh of relief. It had taken a lot out of her to not show her distaste for the king and queen of Malvidence when they’d arrived in the nursery to say hello to their grandchildren. They’d cooed, aah’d, fussed, and fawned all over the young children as Leyah bathed them, fed them, and put them down to sleep. The entire time her body had nearly trembled with the need to lash out at the elder royals, but she’d managed to restrain herself.

  Barely.

  But now, her day was over. The first day of her mission had been a success. An image of Prince Alastair rose unbidden to her mind’s eye and she growled softly, mentally shaking it away. She could not afford the distractions or the complications of a feeling of lust for the prince to get in her way.

  Leyah knew that Danorian would be by shortly and they would debrief, discuss, and plan out their next steps, but before he arrived, she wanted to shower and change. She headed into the bathroom in her suite and stopped to appreciate the room. Standing off to one side was a large shower, big enough to hold six adult males, with a rain showerhead and four other showerheads, from different directions, to ensure that the entire body was covered in water. On the other side of the room a closed door led to what she assumed was the toilet. A large, deep jacuzzi tub sat in the middle of the bathroom, a shelf containing candles, bath soaps, bubble bath, bath salts, an iPhone Home Deck ©, and a neck pillow rested against the wall on the opposite side of it. A vanity sat on one side, of the room, across from the shower, with large, fluffy towels on one side—more rested on the towel warmer on the wall by the door—and an assortment of makeups, oils, hair products, combs, brushes, powders, perfumes, and other sundries on the other. Across from the vanity a double sink with a cream marble countertop and a gleaming silver faucet-head and handles, waited for use.

  Leyah exhaled as she took in the sight of the bathroom. She was suitably impressed. Okay, there was no one there she needed to keep her cool around, she was in awe of the bathroom. She could easily see herself spending lots of time in the jacuzzi tub with the candles lit, soft old school blues music playing, and a book in hand. She practically trembled with excitement at the prospect.

  Hurriedly removing her clothes, Leyah hesitated before heading to the shower. She didn’t have time for a bath right now, but later…

  Yes, later she and that tub would become extremely close.

  Turning the water on high, she sat the temperature to hot, she’d always enjoyed a scalding hot bath. She didn’t know why, but she could remember her mother telling her that she’d always been that way.

  As she stepped into the shower, her dirty clothes tossed into the hamper in the corner, her mother’s voice filled her ears as she recalled the conversation from nine years before, when she was a little girl of ten.

  Leyah’s mother, Queen Mwassaa Zameer was extremely humble, it was something the people of Waldakan often commented about. While there were plenty of servants who worked in the palace—most just to ensure employment for everyone of working age in the country, not because the royal family or palace even required or wanted it—the queen was determined to raise, educate, and train her daughter. She and her husband, King Izem, had suffered the loss
and heartbreak when Aa’Leyah’s two older siblings had passed away shortly after birth, so the both of them were aware that they tended to dote, read spoil, on their only remaining child. They were also extremely overprotective, maybe to the point of obsession, but no one really blamed them. Losing a child did something to the internal fabric of a parent, losing two was almost indescribable.

  So, the queen insisted on preparing her daughter’s baths every night, and situating a guard outside the door, to make sure no one had access to her child when she was at her most vulnerable. She wouldn’t even think about the two guards posted in Leyah’s bedroom, two in her sitting room, and two outside of her suite door at all times. And while Leyah whined and complained about all the security, it was only once in a while. The beautiful, young princess understood that her parents—and by extension, her—were extremely important people. Precious. Special to the entire country of Waldakan, and that there were people out there who would give anything to see them dead or deposed from their positions.

  The queen could only hope that Aa’Leyah never found out exactly how dangerous their roles were. She would give anything to protect her daughter and keep the little girl in the happy bubble she seemed to always be in. Dancing, singing, and smiling everywhere she went. Aa’Leyah was a happy child. Free-spirited. Open and caring. With no worries. Queen Mwassaa knew that it wouldn’t always be that way.