The pilot hurries us along, darting into the stacks of containers without hesitation. He is a small man, smaller even than Rue is. He does not seem to appreciate how tight the spaces between the stacks are for someone of my size. Something tells me that any complaints would be lost in translation, though.
Gripping Rue’s hand, I curse Damen under my breath and hurry to keep up. We round several corners, coming at last to a stack of containers that is far enough away from the next towering stack that the doors can be opened. A ladder leans against the doors, leading up to a dull grey container with its doors open.
The pilot just motions for us to go up the ladder, then turns and disappears, vanishing back into the stacks again. Rue scrunches up her face, looking up to the open door.
“Oh my,” she says, taking a deep breath. She looks at me, concern creasing her brow.
I shrug, trying to act like everything is fine. “I will go first. It will be fine.”
I stride up to the ladder, climbing it rung by rung. Rue is right behind me. When I am midair, I have the sensation of moving, the sickening feeling forcing me to stop for a moment.
“Keep going,” I hear Rue pipe up. “We are almost there.”
She is right, of course. I climb the rest of the way up, flinging myself off the ladder. Rue is only a few steps behind me, and I make sure to help her into the shipping container. I look around at the setup someone has placed in the container for us, setting my messenger bag aside.
A hastily made pallet has been placed in the far end of the container. A large box of food and water is closer by.
“This is it?” Rue wonders, echoing my same sentiment. She pulls her messenger bag over her head and puts it down.
“I guess so.” I frown. “I guess we are just meant to eat, drink, and fuck. Not a bad way to travel, I suppose.”
I amble over to the bed, which is made of clean linens. That is something, at the very least. Rue stays near the entrance to the container, looking out.
“I can still feel the ship moving,” she says, pulling a face. “Even though I have no view of the ocean or even the sky.”
“At least we are not in immediate danger. Or on that tiny inflatable boat.”
I shudder as I walk over to the boxes of food and water. I squat down and examine our stores. Cocking my head, I reach in and fish out a black package about the size of my hand. It appears we have been allotted some sort of military rations, though what country they came from is unclear.
I roll my eyes at my brother, who is probably sipping champagne and eating caviar right now just to spite me.
“Those are our meals?” Rue says, walking over to me.
Dropping the package back in the box, I stand up. “Yes. At least we will not starve.”
That makes her chuckle. “I don’t know about you, but not starving is on my to-do list for the next couple of days.”
I glance down at her, one corner of my mouth kicking up. Reaching out a hand, I pull her against my body. “You know what is on my to-do list?”
She looks up at me a little breathlessly. “No. What?”
I lean down, seeking her mouth with my own. Our lips meet, our breath mingling in the salty air. She twines her arms around my waist, clinging to me as we kiss.
I lose track of time in that moment. Kissing her is something that is instinctual and basic, something that I do because I have to. It is as necessary as breathing. I have to kiss her; for me, there simply is no other option.
As I bend her backward, I enjoy the feeling of her lips moving against mine, of her small hands pressing me closer to her body. This kiss could last for the rest of my days and I would be just as excited about it.
I want to kiss her forever.
With a flash of intuition, I realize that this is what it feels like to be in love with someone. I’m in love with Rue.
Stupidly, deeply, irrevocably in love.
I pull back and look down into her face. She is so goddamned beautiful, with her fiery red hair, her rosy cheeks, and her bee-stung lips. And those eyes, as blue as a clear spring sky and as so damned expressive. What are they saying right now?
They echo back to me the love I feel.
“Fuck,” I mutter, feeling nothing short of astounded. “I love you. I love everything about you, Rue.”
Her expression is puzzled at first, but a slow smile spreads across her face. She blushes.
“You do?”
I nod, leaning in to kiss her again. God, she is intoxicating. Already, she reaches for me, her hands going to the back of my neck. Her breaths are coming out as moans.
If I had the choice to make us one, to sink into her body and never return, I would do it in a heartbeat. Instead, I walk her backward to the pallet, taking her down to the ground with me in a fluid movement.
I roll her over so that she is on top of me. She spreads her knees, sitting astride. She pushes back her fiery hair and leans down to find my lips once more. I surge up, pulling the straps of her top down and revealing her perfect breasts.
Gorging myself on them, I lick and nuzzle and bite her petal pink nipples. She moves her hips against me, pressing down on my hardening cock. I groan as she pulls up the length of her dress and works at the zipper on my jeans.
Shifting my weight to help her get my cock free, I hiss softly when she takes it in her hand.
“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” I grit out, looking into those light blue eyes.
Her pupils widen a little, darkening her eyes. She bites her lip. “So, you want me to keep doing it, then?”
She works my cock up and down, paying extra attention to the sensitive underside. My breath leaves me in a rush.
“Fuck,” I mutter. “I need to be in you right now.”
Pulling her hands away, I grab my cock and position it to be flush with her slick pussy. Pushing inside, I grab her hips and force her down on top of it, impaling her with my cock. Her eyes sink closed, her hands crumple the front of my shirt.
For a second, that is enough. If time froze right now, I would be a happy man. But in the next moment, she wiggles against me, encouraging me to move.
Her pussy is so wet, so hot. And it is mine, only mine. So, I start to move, setting up a relaxed rhythm to my thrusts.
She opens her eyes, obviously unsatisfied with my slow thrusts. Since she is on top, she takes control easily, moving her hips and rocking into me forcefully.
I lie back and let her do all the work. Eyeing her breasts, I reach up and tweak one of her nipples. Her reaction ripples through her body and she clenches her pussy around me.
Damn, if she keeps that up, I am not going to last. So, I merely shape her breasts with my hands and try not to think about coming. It is hard though since she is making a face of extreme concentration while she bounces up and down the length of my cock. Every time she grinds down, a perfect slapping sound hit my ears.
And the sounds she is making, the breathy little ohhs and ahhs of pleasure driving me wild. I grit my teeth and try to hold out, but I soon lose my patience.
Growling, I flip her over and thrust back into her pussy. God, it is so good; she is so good. I can feel my orgasm growing closer as I pound into her tightness. My movements growing reckless and wild, I am just holding on by the skin of my teeth.
Underneath me, she is wild too, her nails scoring the skin of my upper back. I feel her clench as she comes, which drives me to fuck her harder still.
I spill inside of her, my thrusts leaving behind hot spurts of semen as I come. Catching myself on my forearms before I crumple, I kiss Rue tenderly.
She whispers against my lips. “Tell me again, Dryas. Tell me how you feel.”
I kiss her lips first, then look her in the eyes. “I love you, Rue. I will love you for the rest of my life.”
She puts her hands to my face and kisses me slowly, her body still pressed against mine.
“Forever?” she asks, her eyes tearing up.
“Forever.” I brush away the fi
rst tear the falls. “I will love you for the rest of time.”
“Oh Dryas… I love you too. There aren’t even words.” She buries her head against my chest, leaving me wondering just what I did so right to get this woman to love me back.
16
Rue
The days in the shipping container pass in a blur. I sleep, I eat… but mostly my time is spent moaning at something Dryas does to my body with his hands or his mouth. I feel drunk with love for him, so much so it’s almost like a trance.
When we finally step on solid ground again, blinking into the bright sunlight, we are in Montenegro. I stretch and look around the port of Bar, where we have been deposited. It’s not much to speak of, just a long strip of concrete with no other ships disembarking. Other than the short stream of men leaving our ship, it is desolate.
On the horizon, there is a smallish mountain, flanked by others of its kind. The distance between us and the mountains is filled with a sea of small houses and apartment buildings. The activity in the port city seems to be pretty slow-moving, coming from France at least.
Neither Dryas nor I speak a word of Montenegrin or Serbian, but it turns out that we don’t need to. We only manage to walk a few feet when a grinning man in a suit holds up a sign in Greek.
I can’t read Greek but judging from Dryas’s narrowed eyes and tensed body language, it’s a message from his brother.
“That is for us,” he says, his expression brooding. Nodding to the man holding the sign, he walks over to him. “We are here.”
“Please to meet!” the suited man says, enthusiastically pumping Dryas’s hand. “I am Miko. Please to come with me?”
He bows and indicates a waiting limo, parked a few hundred feet away. Dryas looks at me, shrugging his shoulders. We have no real luggage except the bags strapped across our shoulders, so Miko hustles us to the limo without delay.
Normally, I wouldn’t even consider going with Miko. His friendly demeanor strikes me as off-putting, but Dryas’s warm hand on my lower back keeps my nerves steady.
As soon as the limo door is opened, Dryas grunts at the sole occupant. “Damen.”
Dryas steps back and ushers me into the limo, where I slide in to find Damen waiting with a grin. Looking tall and dashing, Damen leans back on the car seat, looking between Dryas and me.
“You two look no worse for wear. I will assume that the journey was pleasant, then?”
Dryas slides in behind me and closes the door. “It was fine. A little lacking in amenities, but otherwise…” He shrugs. “Tell us what you have been up to here in Montenegro.”
The limo pulls out. I raise my eyebrows. Apparently, the destination has already been set.
Damen just smiles. “I have been digging around for information while I waited on you two. I asked around about the prince. The minute I said Henrick’s name, I started getting some interesting reactions. Fear, hatred, anger. The people here do not like him, to put it mildly.”
Dryas frowns. “That cannot be surprising.”
“No, it is not. But I heard that dissidents are dealt with extremely harshly here. Any hint of anti-monarchy activity usually calls down the guard. And many people who are arrested are connected of treason, which carries a penalty of death.”
Surprised, Dryas and I glance at each other. I bite my lip, thinking. “Have a lot of people been put to death for treason?”
Damen nods. “Apparently so. Which is why it was very, very hard and very expensive for me to find out that there is a stronghold of people who oppose the monarchy on the coast of Montenegro. That is where I have instructed the driver to take us.”
Dryas narrows his eyes, glancing over his shoulder out the window for a moment. “That is pretty broad, as far as a place to find rebels goes. Have you got a name at least?”
Damen shrugs. “My source gave me a place to ask. In the town of Jaz, there is someplace called the Tavern of the Seven Dragons. We will start there and see what we can find out.”
I sit back, absorbing all of what Damen has told me. Apparently, there are some people who hate Henrick as much as I should. Then again, if I were to reveal my true identity as the Rebel King’s daughter, who knows how the anti-monarchists would react. I suppose that we don’t have to reveal who we are to them, but the thought still sticks in the back of my mind.
I have no interest in ruling this strange country, I just want to know more about my family. Will I be able to search for the truth in peace?
The seaside town around us falls away as we drive away from it. We are on a simple two-lane road, surrounded by the towering mountains on our right and a stunning view of the ocean on the left.
Leaning my head against Dryas’s broad shoulder, I close my eyes. I never make a conscious decision to fall asleep, but I don’t exactly resist it either. After all, I haven’t actually gotten a full night of sleep in the past few days. Dryas and I just grabbed naps between hours and hours of intense sex.
When I’m shaken awake by Dryas’s hands, I blink in the dusky evening light. Hours have passed unbeknownst to me. I’m not used to sleeping in front of anyone other than Dryas; I hope I didn’t do anything embarrassing.
“Where are we?” I ask, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes.
“We are almost there,” Dryas says as if that clarifies anything.
Looking out the window, I can see a town that looks like something out of an old Western film. A row of businesses all in one long wooden structure, looking deserted.
Or, at least I assume that they are businesses. I don’t read Serbian or Croatian or whatever language is scrawled on the windows. We pass the structure, pulling up outside of a blobby grey building with a sign that just has a picture of a dragon holding a stein of beer.
Dryas looks out the window stonily. “I suppose that would be the Tavern of the Seven Dragons.”
Damen just nods, motioning at us to get out of the limo. “Come on.”
Dryas gets out, then me. I stretch as I look around. There isn’t much to see aside from the little strip of businesses cut into the middle of a forest. On all sides, green trees press in, crowding around us. In the distance, I can hear the sea.
Miko reappears in his suit, still smiling. “Miko is ready.”
I see Damen and Dryas exchange a look. With Miko leading the way, we head into the building. Dryas puts his arm around me protectively, his expression is watchful.
I huddle close to him, not minding one bit. Entering the establishment, we find it is basically a long wooden bar on one side, with the rest of the room filled with scattered tables and chairs.
It is immediately obvious to me that we are the only ones here other than the bartender. Miko doesn’t seem too worried about it, grinning and pointing to a random table.
“You sit! I get stuff.” He heads over to the aged man behind the bar, greeting him in a strange language.
“Do not stare,” Dryas reminds me, pulling out a chair for me. I sit automatically, and he sits right beside me.
“Just play it cool,” Damen chimes in, sitting down across from me. “Miko is going to ask some questions. Hopefully, he will bring the bartender over here to answer some questions.”
I look around for the restroom, spotting it in the corner. “Excuse me. I’m going to go to the ladies’ room.”
Dryas and Damen nod, their minds on other things. Getting up, I try not to look at the bartender as I make my way to the restroom. Opening a flimsy door, I accidentally startle a young blonde woman who is inside, primping in front of the mirror. She turns with a frown on her face, ready to ream me out.
“I’m so sorry!” I say, my face immediately flaming bright red.
To my surprise, she raises her eyebrows at me. “You speak English?”
Her Eastern European accent is thick, but her English is pretty flawless. I can’t think of what to say, so I just nod.
“Yes. I am visiting with my friends.”
Her eyes narrow a bit. “I see.”
She doesn�
�t say anything else, just brushes by me. She is tall and I see that she is naturally flawless, which makes me feel a bit troll-like. I haven’t showered in days. When the door closes behind her, I hurry to lock it, shaking my head.
After I am done peeing and primping, I let myself back out into the tavern. Miko has returned with a beer for everyone at the table. I see the very same tall blonde sitting at the table in my place, making eyes at Dryas.
A knot forms in my stomach, clenching tightly as she laughs at something he says as she touches his arm. I felt like I needed a shower before, but now I see that my unwashed body and my tangled red hair are in direct competition with the mystery blonde. My heart sinks to my feet.
I approach the table, jealousy eating me alive. But the second that Dryas spots me, he gives me this look. A knowing look, his eyes filled with love. He gets up and motions for me to take his seat, pulling up another chair on the other side.
And just like that, I remember how easy it is to be his. I fought hard to get to this place, but now that I’m here, it’s effortless.
I sit down between Dryas and the blonde. She just narrows her eyes at us and edges toward Damen instead. Dryas seems unbothered by it, grabbing my hand and placing it on his leg. I take my beer and have a sip, making a face at the sour taste of it.
“Rue, this is Jelena,” Dryas tells me. “Damen was just telling her that we are here, looking for information about the Royal King.”
I must look surprised because Dryas squeezes my knee. He nods toward Jelena.
“What were you just about to say?”
I take another sip of my beer out of nervousness more than anything else. Jelena shifts in her seat.
“I was saying that if you really want the history of the Rebel King, you should talk to Ana Vukotić. Rumor has it, she is the Rebel King’s heir.”
I almost do a spit take then, my hand flying to my lips. Disguising my shock as a fit of coughing, my mind whirls.
The Rebel King’s heir. Until this moment, I hadn’t really contemplated that I might not be the only heir that exists. But of course, the Rebel King was not married to my Mum; I could have dozens of half-brothers and sisters out there, all over Europe.
Protect: Protect Book 4 Page 9
