Wait a second. Girl, you better check yourself, before you wreck yourself on this man.
I pulled the blankets closer to me and thought to myself. So I had slept with Silas? He had literally taken me to paradise several times. But what came next? Was I supposed to try and fix him? Was I going to be another one of those girls that he left behind on the curb after he was done with? What had he told Charlie Rose that he called them? "One and done"? I think that's what he had said he called his ladies - good for one night and then escorted to wherever they lived with a pair of diamond earrings.
But somehow, this felt different. I knew I was safe with Silas. He had protected me when no one else had known what to do. He had made me his. I wasn't going to waste time regretting what I had done.
I turned around to face him to find an empty bed.
Has he already kicked you to the curb before you even woke up?
No, the guy was a freak of nature. He was off probably riding that motorcycle of his that he had made Pearson bring him. Probably wondering what he was doing and if it was the right thing to do. What had he said before he had taken me? He had given me ten seconds to get away because he was still in control of himself.
I smiled to myself. It was nice to know that I had the power to make someone lose complete control over themselves. Especially when that loss of control was so deliciously pleasurable. I swear, I had had orgasms before, but what I had with Silas was like nothing else I could even begin to dream of. Had he learned all of that on his own?
I began to wish that Silas were here next to me. So I could rub my ass on that giant monster cock of his, feeling it between my ass cheeks. I'd want to hold on to that beautifully sculpted body, running my fingers over those muscles. I'd want to get on top of him and ride him again, replaying last night.
God last night was so dirty. I don't think I’ll ever forget it.
I've heard people talk about in movies about having life altering sex. This had to be it. I couldn't imagine any other situation where sex could be as life-altering as this was. If there were women out there who are not having this type of sex, they were seriously missing out. I mean, I knew I was, but it was absolutely worth the wait for it to be with Silas.
No wonder there are like 7 billion people on this planet. If everyone fucked like Silas does, there'd be 100 billion of us running around.
But Silas wasn't coming back anytime soon. Who knows, maybe he was out drinking. I didn't know how I felt about that. Obviously, we were going to have to have a little talk. I didn't know where this was going, but it was clear to me that Prince Player was in my life for a little while at least and somehow I no longer minded. But that being said, I needed to make sure we had each other's expectations down properly. I don't think it was cool with me anymore if he ever brought home another girl.
I trembled at the thought of him with another woman and decided to banish these dark thoughts by starting my day. It was a little early, but I didn't mind. I didn't feel tired at all. I felt rested, rejuvenated, and ready to take life by the horns and never let go. I knew I would probably get some good painting done today.
I padded over to the shower and let it run for a bit, letting the steam waft in the air and looking at myself. I had looked at myself naked in the mirror before, but everything about my body that I saw now I pictured in relation to Silas. My lips that he had taken with such tenderness yet strength. How he had licked and sucked my breasts and my nipples. How he had run his hands down my shoulders and back. How he had felt on my stomach when he was on top of me. How he had held on to my ass when I rode him. How it felt to have my legs wrapped around him. My body was his, I could tell. I just didn't want to admit it yet to anyone, including myself.
Sighing to myself, I got in the shower and began to get ready for the day. I padded back to my bedroom and picked out something light and airy to wear for the day - something that matched my mood. I settled on a blue sundress.
A loud noise startled me and I realized that the pool construction crew was already here, beginning their work. Well, I had forgotten about them. It was going to be pretty hard to paint outside with bulldozers and tractors moving to and fro with and all that construction noise.
That gave me the perfect opportunity to do something that had been in the back of my mind since I had gotten up this morning: go snooping.
Silas didn't pack much, that's for sure. And what he had Pearson bring in for him, he had arranged neatly in the drawers and closets provided. I was suitably impressed - I had always pictured that he would be somewhat of a slob, but he had everything folded away in military precision.
I smiled to myself and bounded downstairs where I got a vase and put some water and some flowers from the front yard. I brought it up to place on his dresser. That added some color to the room. Say what you say about Silas and his organization, he wasn't much for adding flourishes to his living space.
So where to start? I thought to myself. I went through some drawers and found really just socks and underwear. I didn't need to see the boxer briefs to know that Prince Hung deserved that nickname that the media had given him. Just looking at his underwear made me think back to his cock and I went to his closet and brought one of his hanging shirts to my face, smelling his scent.
I meandered through a few more drawers. I knew snooping was probably not what was written as acceptable activities in Ladies Home Journal, but then again, neither was fucking your stepbrother. I didn't care. Silas wasn't here, and I missed him. Plus, I wanted to know more about the man that I had seen and find out why I had thought he was someone else for so long. It was important to me - I had given myself to him. I deserved to know the real Silas D'Avington.
I went through a few more drawers of shirts and shoes, belts, and cufflinks. I came upon a drawer that held a box, with the royal crest on it. Carefully I opened it. Three medals. I looked at them intently. The Medal of Valor, given to the Kingdom's soldiers who return from a tour of duty. The Medal of Distinction, given to any soldier who commits himself on the battlefield for his comrades. And finally, the King's Medal - given by the King to any soldier who places his life on the line to advance the safety of his compatriots as well as the cause. You had to be nominated and voted on by your peers to receive this award and only one man was given this award each year. I knew all this from my European History courses I had taken specifically on St. Penares after Mother got married. This was massively impressive, but a little bit confusing. I had always thought as royalty, Silas had been on the administrative side of things, arriving in Afghanistan only after it had been secured and planning the troop deployments. The way the tabloids had put it, he had most likely gotten drummed out of the service because he was drinking too much of the general's scotch.
I closed the lid and put it down, finding a binder next to it. Curious, I opened it, to see it full of newspaper clippings that had been put into transparent plastic sheaths. I turned through them, curious to see why Silas had kept them. Most of them were about the War in Afghanistan, where St. Penares forces had committed a sizable deployment along with other Allied nations. I stopped at one article, which had a side profile of Silas. The face was unmistakable, despite being in black and white. Silas had a little bit more of a beard at that point, not having shaved or showered for a few days perhaps. He was wearing Army fatigues and held an M5 in his hands, looking and talking off-camera. It was obvious it was a candid shot. There wasn't any caption under the picture. Either the newspaper hadn't printed Silas' name, which was highly unlikely, or they hadn't expected to see Silas in the picture and had missed him entirely. It didn't make sense to me that someone whose main goal was administrative paperwork would be holding an M5 and looking like they had just come off the battlefield.
The headline on the article simply read, "St. Penares Forces Serve With Distinction Against Jihadists in Afghanistan."
Most likely the photographer had taken a picture that exemplified the forces of St. Penares but had never bothered to find out whos
e picture they were taking. I read the article.
"Royal forces today began a massive strike against Taliban strongholds in Kandahar as the main wing of the Allied forces closed in towards the Afghan city. Taliban forces have increasingly adopted insurgent like tactics, increasing the need for Allied special units to be sent in advance of the main force to clear deadly traps and bottlenecks in an effort to prevent major casualties..."
I didn't understand at all. This article was written before the country was pacified. How and where did Silas fit into it. That was his picture for sure. I'd recognize Prince Passion's strong jawline and piercing eyes anytime. Hell, I'd never forget them. According to everything I had ever read about, he shouldn't be there. He shouldn't be on the front lines, and certainly not in layers of forces sent before the main unit was sent.
"Had a good read, love?" a voice called out from the doorway.
Startled, I dropped the binder and turned to see Silas standing there, in his jeans and leather jacket. A tingle went through my loins as I looked at him, even as I knew I'd been caught red-handed snooping.
"I see we're curious in the mornings, aren't we?" he asked giving me his trademark smirk.
Was it wrong that all I wanted to do was jump his bones at that point?
11
Silas
After my phone call home, I realized there was only one thing left to do. I'd faced the terrorists and I'd seen the face of evil, but I had to do something that almost made me wish I were back in the mountains of Kandahar all over again. I had to go back home and tell Becca that I was leaving.
I was a pussy; I knew it in the deepest corners of my heart. A real man would clean up his act and stand and fight for what he believed in. But a real man would never have let men under him die. A real man wouldn't have gotten involved with a woman who'd be torn to pieces by the news media. A real man would have controlled his impulses and last night been able to withstand the greatest desires of his heart so that he could protect what he loved.
That's right, I told myself as I pulled my bike onto the path. I was fucking in love. I was where my dad had wanted me all this time. I had my head wrapped around a woman and I didn't want to let her go. But I had to.
The newsies, if they could see me now, would be all over themselves popping boners left and right. They'd be handing out their annual Silas bonuses early, knowing the feeding frenzy that they were about to partake in. I could see it now: Prince Player Pierces His Sister. Prince Pleasure's Prurience. Prince Perv Gets Another Notch.
Dad, bless his soul, would age another day older, wondering what was going to happen to his kingdom when he passed on. I couldn't do that to the old man. I couldn't do that to Becca. I needed to stand tall. I needed to be strong.
I walked in the door and put my helmet on the hall tree. It was quiet inside, as opposed to the commotion going on in the backyard as they literally dug it up to put in the deluxe pool that I had ordered. I had told Pearson to meet me in two hours and I thought it best that I stay out of Becca's way and collect all my things.
A part of me felt like a massive douche for leaving. Even more so for treating her like one of my "One and Done" girls. But there was a big difference between them and Becca. They usually threw themselves at me in the club. Noble ladies, sluttier than the dirtiest whore on the street. They wanted my cock, and they would do anything to get it. So I would take them for a ride of their lives. And when I was done, I would discard.
With Becca, I knew I'd be leaving a piece of me forever. I got to my room and smelled her fragrance before I even saw her. The coconut shampoo that she used. The fragrance that she wore. Indelibly marked into my memory. My heart began to palpitate on its own as my senses told me that Becca was near.
I found her sitting on my bed, looking through my war correspondence. I didn't know if she'd read the war journal or looked at the medals yet. Fuck, maybe I wouldn't have to tell her anything. Maybe she'd already seen what kind of a monster I was and I could just collect my stuff and get the fuck out of this house.
"Had a good read, love?" I asked her from the doorway, my heart literally thumping in my chest - afraid that I'd been found out for what I was. I tried my best to smirk but all that came out was a grimace.
Becca literally jumped from where she was sitting. Her eyes went wide when she saw me.
Fucking hell, she probably knew. Fuck it. She would have had to find out sooner or later.
"I see we're curious in the mornings, aren't we?" I said weakly.
"Silas!" she gasped. "I was...I was just..."
I didn't let her finish but walked over. "What's done is done, love. No sense crying over the milk that's already spilled."
"No, Silas, I didn't know where you were so I brought in some flowers and I just..."
"You happened to go through the war correspondence?" I asked her, partially angry that she had stolen from me. That's right. I felt robbed. Robbed of my right to tell her about my own dishonor. About my own ignominy. She had taken that from me.
"Well, it's not a bother, love, really," I said going to my closet. "I'll be out of your hair in no time. You'll be back to normal around here. Get some painting done."
"What?" she asked, in shock. "Where are you going?"
"Back to St. Penares," I said, looking at her but unable to meet her eyes. "Back to the Court."
"What about the King? He just let you go back?"
"No, love," I said. Fuck, this part was going to hurt. "I've seen the light. He's letting me back and planning out who I'm going to marry."
If a ton of bricks could have hit that poor girl, they would have from the way she stumbled on her feet and fell back to sitting on the bed. "You're getting married?" she croaked.
"Afraid so," I said taking my duffel bag out and throwing the contents from the drawers and closet into it. "No helping it. Duty is duty."
The shock was replaced by anger in her eyes. I saw her get up. "But Silas," she said, taking a step closer. I could see she was trembling. "What about us?"
I couldn't look her in the eyes. Damn it all to fucking hell. I couldn't do this. I loved this woman more than anything in my godforsaken life and I couldn't carry on like this.
"Silas," she said, her voice sterner. I busied myself putting my shirts in the duffel bag. What the fuck was I doing? Pearson could come and do this for me. But it kept me from having to look at the creature in front of me that I adored. That I loved. "Look at me," she stated.
I stopped. Slowly I raised my head and looked over at her. Tears were brimming in her eyes. "Becca, I can't," I said. "I can't stay here. You have no idea who and what I am. You have no idea what would happen. The massive shit storm that we would let loose."
"Silas, last night..." she began.
"Last night was a mistake, love," I said cutting her off from saying anything more. I was already wavering and given half a word more I would have dropped everything and taken her in my arms. "This is the only way."
"What is so terrible about us being together?"
That was it. I couldn't fucking do it.
"There is nothing terrible about you, Becca," I said sharply, looking at her. "Don't you ever say that. But look at me. Have you read a newspaper lately? Have you watched CNN?"
She remained silent. "And the worst part is, I would be okay if that were all. If all you had to put up with was Prince Player and Prince Hung and whatever the fuck they're calling me this week. That's all stuff you know. But it's what you don't know that'll destroy everything. But that won’t be it. You're my stepsister, Becca. Once the sharks in the media find out about us they'll tar you with everything I've done. Then, they'll drag your name through the mud. And once you know who I really am, you'll hate me. But by then, you'll have a better reputation being a porn star in Mexico than you will with me."
It wasn't sitting well with Becca. "So that's what you think of me, huh?" she asked, angry, putting her hands on her hips. I moved over to get my War medals, journal and correspondence. "You think
I'm some fragile little kitten you have to protect?"
"It's not that, love..."
This time she didn't let me finish. "And don't you fucking dare 'love' me. You think I don't know what you're doing? You think I never heard of your whole 'One and Done' little strategy?"
Daggers went through my heart as she continued, tears streaming down her face. "Where's my pair of diamond earrings, you fucking asshole? You think you're just getting to walk away and leave?"
I put everything in my duffel bag. I didn't look around to see if I had forgotten anything. I wasn't able to see straight, or think straight.
"Did the King even banish you at all, Silas?" she asked as I made for the bedroom door. "Or did you get it into your sick fucking head to come over and bang your little stepsister? Regular sluts getting too boring for you?"
I couldn't take this and I couldn't see Becca like this. I had all my shit packed and Pearson could come up and take it later. I had to get out before I broke down and took Becca in my arms. Before I kissed away her tears and told her not to cry. Before I told her I loved her. I couldn't stand to see her in pain. I began to make my way down the stairs.
"That was your plan all along, wasn't it, you sick fuck?" she yelled, coming down the stairs as I reached the bottom. Tears were flowing freely now and only adrenaline was keeping her going. "I gave myself to you, Silas. I trusted you. And you turned out to be exactly who they say you are!"
I knew from hearing her voice that she had sat down on the stairs, unable to go a step further. I couldn't turn back. I couldn't look at her. I knew if I did I would never leave. That I'd tell my father to fuck off with the crown, with the kingdom. I had never wanted either, but I knew my duty. I knew my people who I had to protect. And Becca was one of them.
I kept walking and jumped onto my bike, revving it up. I peeled out of the cul-de-sac and got away as fast as I could. I fucking needed a drink. Bad.
My Stepbrother, His Highness: A Royal Stepbrother Billionaire Bad Boy Romance Page 8
