A Fierce Princess: The Poisoned Pawn Duet Part I

by S. E. Rose

  I look down and see a text from Logan.

  Logan: Where are you? I think I’m lost.

  I laugh.

  Me: Describe your surroundings.

  Logan: Well…lots of pink…

  I groan. That little bastard is in my room. I smirk, close my laptop, slide it in a drawer, and head downstairs.

  It’s my father’s voice that stops me cold in the hallway. He’s in his chambers, but I can hear him through the door.

  “That’s not acceptable!” he roars. I jump at the anger in his voice. “I’m not going to fucking calm down. My children could have been on board. I want answers, and I want them fucking yesterday. Do you hear me?”

  It’s quiet for a long moment. “I’ll expect to hear from you within the hour,” he says, and I hear something slam. I jump again and scamper off toward my room. I’ve never heard my father that angry. Part of me, the brave part, wants to knock on his door and speak with him, but I know now that he has nothing to tell me yet.

  I open the door to my chamber and walk in, expecting to see Logan. My sitting room is empty. I continue on and find my bedroom also empty. And then I hear water. I open the doors to my bathroom, and there in my giant jetted tub, is Logan. I grin and lean against the doorframe.

  “Making ourselves at home, are we?” I ask him with a raised eyebrow.

  “What happened to su casa es mi casa?” Logan asks.

  “I don’t believe I ever said that,” I answer walking over toward the tub and sitting down on the edge of it. I glance down at his amazing body that I honestly didn’t spend much time exploring last night.

  “I thought you might need a bath,” he says. “It’ll help…if you’re sore.”

  Part of me wants to admit that I can still feel him between my legs, but a bigger part of me doesn’t want him to have that satisfaction.

  “I suppose I could join you, seeing as how you have made good use of all my scented Dead Sea salts,” I muse as I strip off my clothes and slide down into the tub, opposite him. I sink down in the water and lean my head back against the pillow I have there. I know it’s only a matter of time before Shannon comes knocking on my door, wanting to update me and tell me about a thousand appointments I have once our quarantine ends.

  “You probably shouldn’t be here,” I say to him with my eyes closed.

  I feel his strong hand on my leg. He rubs gentle circles on my calf. The motion has me wanting him within seconds.

  “Then, I’ll leave,” he says. I feel him move, and I place my legs over his.

  “No need,” I say. I know he’s grinning before I even open my eyes.

  His hand travels up to my thigh and begins to massage it. I groan as it feels so good.

  “Enjoying that?” he asks.

  “Very much, thank you,” I quip.

  “Turn around, I’ll rub your back,” he offers. I can’t turn down a back massage, so I swivel in the water and lay my head on my bent knees, wrapping my arms around them. I feel his hands begin to massage my neck and shoulders. I sigh in contentment.

  “You’re rather good at this,” I murmur.

  “I aim to please,” he says, his breath hot against my ear. After a few minutes, he stops, and I groan.

  “Come lie down,” he says. I open my eyes and turn to see him leaning back against the tub. I move toward him. “Nope, other way,” he corrects. I frown and he motions for me to turn so my back is against his chest. I sigh but comply with his request.

  I settle myself between his legs. His arms come around mine, pulling me tightly against him. I can feel his erection dig into my backside. I squirm, and he hisses.

  “Princess, careful, unless you want round two,” he says between gritted teeth.

  “Who says I don’t want it?” I ask, looking up at him with a smirk.

  He laughs. “You are a rebel, aren’t you?” he asks.

  I shrug and grin. I trail my fingers along his arms and thighs. He remains still, letting me explore his body. Eventually, I turn and gaze at him. I tentatively run my hands over his pectoral muscles and then each indention of his six-pack. My wrist grazes his erection that is now protruding from the water. I hesitantly grasp it in my hand. He wraps his hand around mine and guides it up and down, showing me what he likes. His eyes become hooded, and I see his chest rising and falling faster. His pupils begin to dilate. I explore all of it, the vein running up it, the rim at the head of it, the sac below it. He waits patiently, allowing me to examine him.

  “Sit on the edge of the tub,” he says to me after a few minutes. I give him a curious look but comply. He pushes my knees apart and settles himself between them, so his head is aligned with my core. I feel a little awkward until he moves closer and licks at my folds. I shudder. He looks up at me as he continues to lick and suck at my intimate parts. My eyelids become heavy, and I fight to keep them open, to watch him watch me as he brings me bliss that I didn’t know was possible. He slowly pushes a finger inside me as he sucks at my clit, and I shake with pleasure.

  “Come back down here,” he says after a few long moments of ecstasy. I comply as he helps me back into the tub. He turns me around so I’m on my knees, my pussy is now pressed against a jet and it’s doing magical things. I feel his erection slowly ease into me. I groan as he goes deep inside me. I push back, and he thrusts forward as we find a rhythm. I hear my moans and gasps as he reaches around me and begins to circle my clit with two fingers. The sensation overload has me spiraling toward my release within seconds. I cry out as he keeps thrusting deep. He doesn’t stop moving until I sag over the edge of the tub. I feel him pull out of me gently. I turn to see him sitting against the tub.

  “You’re in charge now,” he says, offering me a hand. I climb on top of him and slowly lower myself onto his thick cock. I’m sore but the feel of him stretching me is so exquisite that I don’t care. He places his hands on my waist and guides me up and down. I settle on a rhythm and lean forward to kiss him. His cock slides deeper inside me and I moan with pleasure.

  “That’s right, Princess,” he murmurs as he thrusts up when I thrust down. I start frantically moving, I’m so close, and I need my release.

  “Yes, take it, baby. Take what you need,” he urges. I grip his shoulders tightly as I slam down one last time and cry out his name. I feel all my inner muscles pulsating around him and then I hear him groan as he thrusts up harder into me, releasing his seed deep inside my channel.

  I place my head on his shoulder as I regain my composure.

  “That was…” I trail off.

  “Really fucking amazing,” he finishes.

  I grin against his skin and give him a playful bite.

  “Did you just bite me, Princess?” he asks, swatting my ass playfully.

  “Princesses don’t bite,” I correct him.

  He laughs and the movement of his body inside me makes me moan as my muscles clamp down on him one last time.

  “Jesus, Anna,” he grates out through his clenched jaw.

  I grin, feeling powerful. I lift myself from him and sit back down.

  “How come this water is still warm?” he muses, pulling up his fingers and examining them.

  I laugh. “It circulates the water through a heater,” I explain.

  “Fancy,” he says. I shrug and lift myself out of the water.

  “I should dry off. I’m sure Shannon will want to debrief me soon,” I say as I grab a towel and wrap it around me.

  He gets up and grabs another towel. Once he has it secured around his waist, he pulls me against him and kisses me hard. He leans his forehead against mine.

  “You’re addictive, Anna,” he whispers. “Everything about you is addictive, your smell, your words, the feel of your skin, your taste, everything.”

  I hear a knock on my door, and I pull back from him. “Shit, that’ll be Shannon. I’ll tell her to bugger off, while I dress,” I say. I run out and tell her I was just relaxing, and I’ll meet her in the drawing room in ten minutes. She gives me a suspicio
us look, but nods and leaves. I turn and lean against the closed door as Logan peeks out from the bathroom.

  “All clear?” he asks.

  “All clear,” I reply.

  It’s only then that I notice Logan’s clothes on my bed. I sigh and hope that Shannon didn’t notice them. I silently curse myself for making my life more complicated, which is actually fairly impressive considering everything going on.

  Logan walks over and puts his clothes on. I stay against the door, watching him, partly fascinated by how he pulls on his trousers and buttons his shirt. It’s different from how my brothers and father do it. I’ve never given much thought to how people dress, but Logan’s movements have all my attention.

  “Enjoying the view?” he asks as he turns around with a smug smirk on his face. I roll my eyes at the boyish sentiment.

  “Are you?” I retort as I release the towel and saunter toward him. I can hear his intake of breath from across the room. When I reach him, I lean up on my tippytoes, grab his hair, and pull him down so I can kiss him.

  He hauls me up against his body and I comply, wrapping my legs around his waist as we battle with our tongues for control of the kiss. Once I feel like I’ve won, I pull back and grin.

  “I gotta go,” I say as I slide down his body and bounce over to my wardrobe to grab a new outfit. I feel his eyes on me, so I take my time pulling on a dress. I pull my hair up and turn my head, glancing at him.

  “Be a doll and pull up my zipper, will you?” I ask. I see his jaw tense as he walks toward me. He runs a single finger up my back, giving me chills before he complies.

  “Thanks,” I whisper, my voice breathy.

  He leans in and whispers back in my ear, “You’re welcome, Your Highness.” I shiver. Those words on his lips sound so naughty, and I love it. I’m not at all sure what Logan’s doing to me, but I think he’s stolen more than my virginity.

  “Alright, I’m off to slay a dragon. I take it that you can find your way back to your chamber without my assistance, Mr. Winters?” I say to him.

  “I’ll manage,” he replies as he follows me to the door. I peek out, and seeing the coast is clear, I quickly usher him out of my room. And just in time too, because Pete comes walking down the hallway, clearly on patrol in this wing. I give him a smile before I run down to the drawing room and find Shannon sitting with a pot of tea. I take the seat next to her.

  “So?” I ask as I look down at my watch. It’s 11:30 a.m., which means my father will be debriefed soon.

  “We’re fortunate that you had no appearances booked for another two days because we weren’t expecting you back so soon. I’ve managed to discreetly rearrange the rest of the schedule this week. Obviously, the press has heard about your uncle’s jet. The drastic security measures are, of course, not public knowledge. I’m suggesting we leave your schedule for next week in place for now. You don’t have any commitments until mid-week,” she says, stopping to sip her tea.

  “That’s fine,” I reply as I pour myself a cup of Tessa’s famous tea. I’m not completely sure what spices she adds, but it’s heavenly.

  “So, what’s going on with Logan?” Shannon blurts out. I almost spit the tea all over her.

  “I beg your pardon?” I answer with a bit of a cough.

  “Anna, I wasn’t born yesterday. And, hell, if I had a chance, I wouldn’t miss that opportunity either. That boy is fine,” she says.

  Her completely honest answer has me laughing. “I’m just enjoying his company,” I say to her because it’s the truth and also very noncommittal.

  “Oh? You’re ‘enjoying’ his company, are you?” she says with a smirk.

  I do my best to prevent the eye roll that I know I’m incapable of stopping.

  “Shannon,” I growl.

  “Fine, be that way,” she says. “Your father has asked everyone to be in his office at quarter after twelve. I believe he expects to have information to share by then.”

  I nod.

  “Anything else?” I ask.

  “Not yet. Your aunt and uncle just arrived though, so…” She trails off as she looks past us. I want to groan because I know my aunt is likely impatiently waiting at the door. The fact that she hasn’t entered the room and interrupted us surprises me.

  “Hello, Auntie Lara,” I say as I turn to find her standing with her arms crossed. She’s wearing a skirt suit that looks more like she belongs in a corporate business boardroom than a palace.

  “Hello, darling,” she says as she makes her way into the room. I rise, and she greets me the standard double cheek kiss. I can see the worry in her eyes. As much as Auntie Lara can be a royal pain in my ass, she’s the closest thing I have had to a mother, along with Tessa and Helga, since my mother’s death. Auntie Lara is too formal to ever smother me with kisses, but she does keep a hand gripping my arm before she pulls away.

  “I was so worried; both of us were,” she says, referring to Uncle Hans. A little part of me wants to laugh because I’m pretty sure Uncle Hans was as worried about his jet as us. His “toys” are like his babies. When we were younger, my father would send us out for a week or two at school breaks to visit my aunt and uncle at their cottage home in the countryside. And by cottage home, I mean a sprawling manor house not much smaller than the summer palace. Uncle Hans always had a new car, boat, jet, or some sort of contraption. He comes from a long line of entrepreneurs. He inherited his father’s empire when he was twenty-three and never looked back. Money is his life. Once Auggie scratched his brand-new limited edition Bugatti with his bike pedal. You would have thought he single-handedly brought down a space shuttle. Needless to say, we were always very careful around Uncle Hans’s toys after that incident and the ensuing three-hour lecture from our uncle regarding taking care of belongings.

  On the flip side, Uncle Hans was also the most mischievous of our clan. He always allowed us to go out on the boats on the lake without adult supervision, once we could prove to him that we could operate them to his liking, of course. Those boats, jet skis, four-wheelers, were all child-approved. He explained all this in that three-hour diatribe. It’s funny how I’ve forgotten so many conversations, while others stick in my head like glue.

  “We’re fine, Auntie,” I say to her.

  “Well, I need to get settled, but I will see you at dinner, darling,” she says as she pulls away. She gives me a small smile, and I smile back at her. She very much resembles my grandmother, what little I remember of her as she passed away when I was only four. I have a few fleeting memories of her though. She was kind, but stern. She was the epitome of an old-school royal.

  I turn back to Shannon. “I’m going to Father’s study, unless we have more to discuss,” I say to her. She shakes her head and follows me. I knock on the giant wooden door.

  “Come in,” my father’s voice calls out from the other side. The fact that Marcus doesn’t answer for him gives me pause, but I open the door and walk in. Shannon freezes, clearly taken aback as well. I look back at her, and she shakes her head and steps to the side, sitting down on the antique bench in the hallway.

  I walk in and find my father sitting not at his desk, but at a large oversized leather chair by the window. He doesn’t look my way but stares out at the garden.

  “Father?” I ask.

  “Have a seat, sweat pea,” he says, using my childhood nickname.

  “Are you alright, Daddy?” I ask as I sit and tentatively place my hand on his arm. He finally turns and looks at me. In the light shining in from the garden, I can see all the lines on his face. His thinning, gray hair looks even more sparse on his head. He looks…old.

  He doesn’t smile his reassuring smile, and that causes me to swallow nervously. “It was a bomb,” he says, his voice low.

  I grimace and flinch because now the guilt I was feeling is crushing down on me like a ton of bricks.

  “Do we know who?” I ask, trying to keep my voice level.

  He shakes his head. “Our security team is on the ground over th
ere going through the video from the airport, but so far they haven’t seen anything suspicious. It appears as though only people with clearance were given access to the hangar where the jet was stored. Most of the workers wear hats, so it’s difficult to identify people that were coming and going, and there is one space of time when a camera was down for a few minutes. It was from a storm that went through and knocked out some power, a generator didn’t kick back on and caused a lapse of about twenty minutes in two video cameras, one was in the hangar,” he says.

  “What does security think?” Chris’s voice booms from the doorway.

  I jump, completely surprised by my brother. Auggie stands next to him, and Marcus, Shannon, Mia, and Paolo are all huddled behind them. Slowly, each one steps inside my father’s study, a most unusual occurrence, seeing as how he has not granted them permission to enter, but then again, the circumstances of this conversation are also most unusual.

  My father sighs and swivels in his seat to face the audience in his study.

  “They are investigating all possibilities. They aren’t sure whether it was directed at Hans and Lara, or if it was directed at one or all of you. It’s troubling. While we always have small factions in the country that would like to dissolve the monarchy, there hasn’t been any intel as of late that they were becoming violent in their stance. The head of our intelligence ministry has appointed a special task force to work with our security team to investigate the bombing. I hope to be debriefed by them within the next forty-eight hours,” he says.

  Chris frowns and is about to speak when a voice from the door stops him.

  “I have also hired a private security firm to investigate,” my Uncle Hans says. He stands next to Aunt Lara whose eyes are wide with fear.