“Yes Mom, I can hear you,” I sighed. It was just like Candace to be sailing on a luxury yacht so soon after her divorce. Most people would have gone into hiding, or at least stayed low-profile for a while, but instead Candace had hooked up with some random rich guy and was sunning herself on the deck of a four-story monstrosity, a great white whale that sailed the high seas.
“Oh good,” she exclaimed into the phone. “I just wanted to check in, you know, like we talked about,” she said before squealing, “Phillip not now! Don’t touch me there, I have my daughter on the phone.”
And I literally held the receiver away from my ear, feeling nauseous. Candace was obviously doing the nookie with her new boyfriend and I had to listen to the playful slaps, the giggling, the x-rated huffing and puffing. Gross.
“What mom?” I said tiredly. “What can I do for you?”
“Nothing baby,” she squealed, giggling again, undoubtedly as this Phillip guy did something to her private parts. “I just wanted to see how you are.”
Well the answer was confused, achy, and tired, with a baby on the way, but I wasn’t about to tell her any of that.
“I’m good,” I said woodenly. “Thanks for calling.”
And my mom’s breathy sigh was all I heard in return. She was so distracted that there was no point in continuing the conversation, so I hung up slowly.
But I felt myself getting mad. Candace, as ditzy as she was, had done what she wanted. She’d moved onto the next step and was now partying it up, living the lifestyle she wanted with a new man, a new home, a new outlook on life. Halson Halborg, Prince of Slovania, was in her rear-view mirror, a distant memory already.
Should I do the same? After all, I, too, was a dynamic, independent woman. Why hang on to a dying dog, why beat myself up about things I couldn’t change, problems that had no answers?
But the thought of leaving the twins, especially like this, on the sly, tore at me. After all, I was pregnant with their child, and they were powerful men – they’d find out about the baby sooner or later. Plus, it wasn’t like I had a heap of financial resources. If I’d been a broke student before, living off work-study while taking my clothes off at the Donkey, I’d be in an even more precarious position now, with daycare, formula and diapers on my shopping list.
I sat up in bed. Holt and Hayden weren’t getting off so lightly, they were going to have to provide some answers. Otherwise, I’d be forced to leave for New York immediately … to dance at the Donkey again.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Holt
She came storming in, right when we were finishing up.
“Hayden, now, alone,” she commanded, sparks flying from her eyes.
All eyes flew to my brother, the big man at the head of the table, his face impassive.
“Gentlemen,” said my twin courteously, “please give the Queen and I some privacy.”
Slowly, our advisers gathered their papers, leaving single file while giving Summer the side-eye, shooting us curious looks. Maybe some folks thought it was weird that I stayed, but then again, I was brother to the King and maybe this was a family matter.
The door closed with a thump and Summer turned to us, her hands on her hips, brown curls flying.
“What can we do for you?” asked Hayden tiredly. “What is it this time?”
And I could tell that Hay was stressed, he was exhausted, this business being King is high-pressure and thankless in many respects. But our endless rounds as doctors had prepared us well, and we were making progress. Slovania was going to be okay.
I nodded silently, just as tired and burned-out. But I couldn’t help but look over our girl appreciatively, taking in the curvaceous figure, the big boobs, the small waist and wide hips. Summer was as gorgeous as ever and it was sheer heaven to come home to her each night, feel that warm, wet pussy wrapped around our cocks after a long day of work. Sure, we hadn’t been talking, not really, but it seemed like that was about to be rectified.
“I need answers,” she stormed, her face flushed. “Give it to me straight up. Me or Slovania?”
It almost sounded like she was asking about another woman, as if Slovania was the name of another female. But I decided to be direct. This was clearly a question that had been haunting her for weeks now, and she deserved to a real answer.
“We really don’t know,” I said slowly, honestly, “We just don’t know. The country means so much to us, our people mean so much to us, and we don’t belong to ourselves anymore. We’ll always be working for Slovania, we’re always going to do right by our people,” I amended, “our family is the Slovanian people,” I emphasized.
Hayden continued my thoughts.
“It’s hard to explain,” he said, “But we love you and we love her too. We would never hurt you, and we would never hurt her either. But you have to understand, I mean I hope you can understand, that the love that we have for both of you runs deep no matter what.”
Summer was silent for a moment.
“But what if it came to a choice between the two of us?” she asked plaintively. “Who would you choose?”
And I sighed again.
“Baby, we hope it never comes down to that. I know you’re angry. I know that the abduction, Operation Smile, the botched honeymoon, all that stuff seems to be a ruse now, like we just did it for our country. But we did it for us too, don’t you see? It sounds silly to kill two birds with one stone that way, but Hay and I, we had to. There was so much to get done, and we were running out of time. We had to act fast, to make decisions that maximized success on all possible fronts.”
And Summer was quiet then.
“I know what you’re saying,” she said in a subdued voice. “I get it, that the love that you have for your country can co-exist with the love that you have for me. I’m just freaked out, you know? When everything we’ve experienced together … well it turns out Slovania was there all along as well.”
And Hayden interrupted then.
“Don’t think of Slovania as another woman,” he ground out. “Think of her more like a job. A demanding, high-stress job, but a job all the same. She brings us fulfillment, sure, but a completely different kind of fulfillment than what you provide.”
And here Summer turned to us, her expression somber.
“I know,” she said softly. “I know. I guess I’ve just had to work through things at my own pace. Part of it was my mom, believe it or not,” she said, scrunching up her nose. “Part of it was Candace divorcing your brother and acting like a spoiled brat afterwards.”
I shook my head. Sure, it was great that Candace and Halson had divorced because the uncle / niece issue was gone, but at the same time, her mom’s actions afterwards … fuck that. Of course we knew everything, we knew Candace was on a yacht with that douche Philip, but sometimes it was better just to let sleeping dogs lie.
But before Holt or I could say anything, Summer took a deep breath and continued.
“I had to work through things at my own pace,” she said slowly, “and seeing how Candace behaved, how she never took responsibility for anything, how she lay the blame squarely on Halson although he’d done nothing but be himself, made me think again. It made me think that I was acting the same way. That I took no responsibility for anything that happened between us.”
My bro and I looked at each other incredulously.
“Baby, there’s no way you could have known,” I said gently. “You’d just arrived in a new country, a nineteen year-old volunteer translator. How could you have known about the rebellion, about the guys surrounding the camp, that we were princes of the kingdom?”
And it was here that Summer gave us a searching look, biting her lip. She seemed to be internally debating before answering.
“Because you guys talk about stuff all the time,” she said quietly. “I speak fluent Slovanian, remember? And I hear you muttering in your sleep. It’s incoherent a lot of the time, just syllables, but I’ve been sleeping with you guys for a while now,” she said,
not meeting our eyes. “It took some time, but I put everything together, I just didn’t say anything,” she finished simply.
And here, our hearts jumped. Our girl had known all along that we were princes of the country, that we’d been plotting to overthrow our dad in a royal coup?
And as if hearing our unspoken question, the brunette nodded simply.
“Yes, I’ve known for a while now.”
And my brother and I were stunned speechless. Our nineteen year-old naïf, the girl who’d captured our hearts, was intelligent, clever, and discreet … confirming that she was absolutely perfect as our Queen.
EPILOGUE
Summer
One year later …
“Oh!” I moaned lightly, tossing in the big bed. “Oh god,” I moaned again, stretching a bit.
Because Holt was tasting my cunny, biting lightly at my clit while licking my hole. The big man took a moment to press his tongue deep into me, and sparks shot through my puss, making me tremble and scream as he worked my sweet snatch.
Hayden in the meantime, was busy with my breasts, riding them vigorously.
“Oh yeah,” he panted, his cock pressed between my boobs, rubbing his pole up and down between their flat bellies. “Fuuuck,” he groaned as I bent my head to lick the tip of his penis on each stroke, the fifteen inch dong so near and yet so far as it swung back and forth, the big man straddling my chest.
And finally, the three of us came hard, Hayden in my mouth, Holt in my puss, their cream spraying my fertile fields, seeding me with their man milk, my cunny twitching and spasming, welcoming the release, working those shafts with every shred of desire in my being.
Afterwards, we lay panting and spent on the big bed, exhausted, a tangle of moist limbs. Holt caressed my flanks absentmindedly, his hand lightly caressing my curves, dipping to stroke against my cunny again, fingers coming away wet.
“Baby want more?” he rumbled, a smile on his face. Mischievously, he increased the pressure, pushing a digit in although I’d just come hard on his hot rod.
And Hayden wasn’t about to be left out. The King sucked his middle finger, moistening it, before running it around my flower.
“Ohhh!” I squealed, tensing up instinctively. Despite years in bed with them now, I still buck whenever my anus is touched, the pleats oh-so-sensitive, contracting at a man’s hand although I’ve taken both their dongs back there multiple times.
But Hayden wasn’t deterred and with a firm, smooth glide, eased his finger into my anal chamber, enjoying the dryness, the way my bottom immediately clenched around his digit.
“She’s good, isn’t she?” he rumbled to his brother.
“Oh yeah,” replied Holt.
And I only laughed then, the giggles turning into another sigh of pleasure as the big men diddled me two ways, running in and out of my sweet cavities, tasting my nectar, making me come again. Because you see, there are no secrets between us. Ever since I revealed that they sleep talk, Holt and Hayden know that I’m privy to matters of state, that I know about the sensitive issues surrounding the crown. And instead of backing off, of treating me like a leper, they embrace it.
“Give us your thoughts,” encouraged Holt, “tell us what you think.”
“But-but I’m not sure,” I said flustered, “I mean, I’m hardly an expert on geopolitical matters.”
“It’s no problem,” said Hayden gently. “Most wives aren’t experts in their husbands’ fields. You’re a sounding board for us, an honest opinion, someone to tell us ‘no, you’re acting crazy’ when everyone else is too intimidated.”
And I flushed, remembering that conversation from so long ago, when I’d expressed reservations about their untrammeled power as King and Prime Minister. Because you know what? It’s worked out for us. I’m the twins’s counterweight, their sounding board, the person they rely on for a second opinion. And my husbands value it, my opinion is worthwhile, what I think absolutely matters.
So we’ve settled into domestic bliss, or at least as blissful as it can be with a six-month old baby girl sleeping in the next room. Speaking of which, little Sophie’s wail rang out in the air, making us start before laughing, the sound of resigned happiness.
“Daddy, your little girl’s calling you,” I said to Hayden.
The big man nuzzled my neck, trailing a hand lightly over my boob.
“I think Sophie’s other daddy wants him to get her,” he growled, tweaking my nip. “Your turn,” he said to his twin.
And with a big sigh, Holt heaved himself out of bed, his massive torso flashing in the dim light.
“Coming Baby Sophie,” he called out, “Daddy’s coming,” he repeated, pulling on a robe before heading to the next room where our child lay.
And I sighed happily. Our little girl has the deep blue eyes of her fathers and my brunette curls, a mixture of the three of us, making our hearts melt with her infectious laugh and sweet smile.
And like most families, we’ve established a routine for the baby. King Hayden takes her to the royal nursery in the mornings, and her alleged uncle, the Prime Minister, picks her up after work each day, bringing her back to my arms for an evening of play, before putting her to bed. And then the real work begins, because the King and Prime Minister want to hear what I have to say. My thoughts, my opinions, my take on current events, politics, news, everything matters. But most of all, we talk about the health and welfare of the Slovanian people, our concern and care running deep, our empathy strong, our desire to transform the society into something fair, just and equal, true and profound. Because the Slovanian people don’t just belong to Holt and Hayden anymore – they’re my people now as well.
But what the people don’t know is just how modern our family is, with three parents for our little girl, our ménage continuing, the dirty threesome ever better, our ties deeper, our connection more meaningful. After all, Hayden and Holt are my princes still … Double Princes for the ages.
THE END
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