by Misti Murphy
She relaxes almost immediately. There’s a slight bitterness to her kiss as I lick inside her. The sweetness of her marred by the hurt I’ve inflicted because of my secrets. Not that they will matter after tonight.
I kiss her until her arms wind around my neck, until she whimpers and her body presses against mine. I need her eager for me. I need to know I’m not going crazy over something that isn’t real.
“Tell me you want me as much as I want you. That you’d do anything I asked of you if it made this fantasy real.”
“Always,” she says. “But it’s not. It can’t be. You made that clear from the start. Besides, I don’t even know who you really are.”
“You’re the only one who does know me, Allie. You know more about who I am than anyone, and you must know I care for you a great deal.”
“Please don’t say that,” she whispers, her face paling. “Please, you don’t have to tell me you care for me. I don’t need you to pretend you do.”
“But I do. I can’t understand how anyone couldn’t.” I press her against the wall, my leg going between her thighs as I shove her hands up above her head. “Let me explain to you how much I’ve come to care for you. Let me show you how much you mean to me.”
“Please,” she whispers, her mouth straining toward mine. Her pupils are big, begging me to bridge the space between us. To make this about the physical. Even uncertain, her body responds to my touch, but I get the distinct impression she’s begging me not to tell her how I truly feel about her, as though she couldn’t bear to believe someone could fall for her.
And it would be so easy to sink my lips to hers again, to get lost in her. The feral instinct to own every part of her makes a groan roar through my chest. I graze my fingers from her palm over her wrist and along the length of her arm to her tits. They rise to meet me. Her nipples are sharp points against the silk of her dress. The idea of not waiting any longer is tempting, but I stick with my plan to find out how far she will go to have what’s between us. I need to know when I reveal everything to her that she’ll be able to keep my secrets until I’m ready to take her home with me to Karovka. By the time I have her on my cock later tonight she’ll be saying yes to being my princess, my wife.
“The fantasy is ending, Allie. I need you to let me tell you the truth of how I feel about you. You told me you would do anything to make this real.” When I brush my thumb over one hard point she inhales sharply, her gaze becoming hooded. I travel my palm down her stomach, which trembles under my touch as one leg winds around mine. Her dainty heel presses into my calf, and I gather a fistful of the material in my hand as I move my leg, yanking the dress up so I can get my hands on her skin. “Promise me.”
“Kai,” she whimpers, ashen. Caught between lust and the yearning written so clearly on her face she nods. “Anything. I promise.”
I don’t need her to tell me again. The decision was made final the moment I saw her tonight. Sweet, perfect, naïve Allie is going to be my princess, my bride, the woman who bears the next heir of Karovka.
She nods. One hand finds my shoulder, tries to pull me to her.
“Good.” I slide my hands between her silky panties and bare skin to cup her ass, my fingers biting into her flesh. “I want you, Princess. Over and over, and I can promise you that once I’m inside you, you’ll never get me out.”
“I’ve wanted you so long.” Her head knocks against the wall. “Haven’t you tortured me enough?”
“Only a few more hours.” I pull my fingers from her panties and straighten out her dress. She still doesn’t understand this isn’t some game anymore. There’s no fantasy of being someone she’s not. After tonight, after the clock strikes midnight and calls time on this make believe fairy tale, I’m going to turn her world upside down. The fantasy, the reality, will all come crumbling down, leaving only her and I and the truth of how I feel about her. “But right now we’re late for dinner.”
Chapter Twenty
Allie
I almost didn’t show up tonight, considered ignoring Saran when he called to set up this final game. I’d flopped on my bed and tried to convince myself it would be best if I’d never been drawn in by the man who sat at my bar all those nights. Another night would only make it harder to persuade myself that I imagined how he affects me and that I shake him up too. If any of it was real. After all I don’t even know his full name, do I?
He smiles, his mouth crinkling up in one corner as he runs his fingers over one loose strand of my hair, scooping it behind my ear as we head back toward the packed ballroom.
And now he wants to make it even harder for me to differentiate between fact and fiction? He wants me to give him a night to show me how he feels about me, and I’m not even sure if I want to know if he feels the same things I do. Do I? It’ll just make it harder when we have to say goodbye once again.
“Come on,” he says, taking my hand and leading me across the ballroom. He pulls me through the crowded room, past the large, elegant dining area decked out in gold and white linen.
The fantasy is ending, he said, and I can’t see the point in dragging it out. But tonight this will truly be over, and whether I ever get to experience being with him intimately or not, I can’t bring myself to tell him no and walk away. Not until midnight.
After that I’ll find a way to put my real world back together. I’m almost resigned to the fact that I’m here to say goodbye as he ushers me into a smaller private dining room. Until I realize we’re not alone.
Two men stand talking to each other. The taller one turns as we enter. His eyes are almost as dark as the black suit he’s wearing. He adjusts his silver tie with one hand, a tumbler half-filled with a dark amber liquid in the other. There’s an intensity to the way he assesses me, like I’m under a microscope. “Good evening. You must be Allie.”
His voice is smooth and velvety, and I recognize it immediately. “Saran?”
“Yes.” He moves, each step predatory. I get the feeling that few people would dare to cross him. That he’s far more lethal than his commanding voice. He stretches an arm out to take my hand. His handshake is friendly, though firm. “It’s nice to finally put a face to the name.”
“I-It is.” I glance around at the others. The man who stands loosely behind Saran, and two women, a blonde and a redhead, sitting at the table. I don’t understand what’s going on.
“These are my friends, my family so to speak,” Kaiser says. Though there’s a warmth in his voice that tells me he means what he says, his expression is schooled. His jaw is lifted, tight at the temples, and his fingers where they touch me are tense.
It confuses me more. He’s acting like this isn’t some game we’re playing. He’s acting like this is so much more than it is. Butterflies slink through my veins, making my skin buzz. Am I stupid for having hope that maybe he didn’t just mean this was the end of the fantasy? Am I being ridiculous with this sudden need to believe that he meant it when he said he cared?
“Scorch.” The other man has a friendlier smile, his blue eyes filled with warmth as he pushes past Saran.
A knowing look passes between him and Kaiser, that I’m not sure what to make of. I tug at the slim silver bangle on my wrist, another piece from Gail.
“Chasey, and Loz.” Kai nods in the direction of the redhead and the blonde. “Chasey’s marrying this guy.” He taps Scorch’s arm. “And Loz you would have talked to on the phone.”
“I remember.” I nod in acknowledgement as both women lift a hand in greeting. I don’t understand why he is introducing me to them. Is this normal? Has he introduced other women he’s played this fantasy with to them? Or is this something else? I’m so confused, no longer able to tell whether I’m imagining things because I want them or they’re happening because they’re real. It makes me want to disappear, to go back to where I belong, which isn’t here with him no matter how much I might want it.
He kisses my temple. “Take a seat. I’ll get you a drink.”
Part of me wa
nts to tell him I can’t do this anymore. I should never have come tonight. I can no longer differentiate between fact and fantasy. I’m not sure I want to. His treating me as something special has my insides knotted and jumbled. It feels real, honest, and yet, I’m not that girl. Each time this was supposed to end, I breathed a sigh of relief that I wouldn’t ever have to hear him tell me he never felt anything for me, that I was alone in this fantasy. I wouldn’t have to wonder any longer if for one just moment in my life someone actually thought I was worth the time. Now, my heart is breaking, torn between hope that this is so much more than some fantasy, and certainty that if it is I can never be good enough for him.
I wander toward the table, willing my nerves to calm. Truth is, these past few weeks have been the best of my life. He makes me feel like I’m adequate, more than. He makes me feel like I’m important, and whether that’s fact or fiction, it has to be worth it. So, just this once, I play the obedient, likable girl and do as I’m told.
“Are you enjoying yourself?” Loz offers a gentle smile as she adjusts her perfectly coiffed hair. “I’ve never seen Kaiser with such a serious look on his face.”
I glance at him, watching him watch me as he waits for our drinks at the bar. He’s always seemed so serious, so burdened. “Really?”
“He has his moments,” Chasey pipes up. “I remember the first time I met him. I thought he was going to murder me, or worse.” She shivers. “But that was a Vice game. He’s actually a great guy.”
“Quite,” I mumble. I want to tell them that maybe they don’t know the real man, but how can I be certain? I’ve seen so many sides of him. The one thing that holds true, that makes my pulse beat wildly is the way he looks at me as if I’m something so much more than I am.
Saran and Scorch take seats at the table. Scorch relaxes as he whispers something to Chasey that has her smiling, but Saran stays ramrod straight, his hands clasped on the table in front of him. “So tell me, Allie, after this fantasy do you think you’d ever want to be a real life princess?”
“No, I don’t think so. I’m happy as I am.”
Aren’t I? I don’t really want to be a princess. It makes me think about Kai’s real life, the one where he’s part of a society that I would never dare to dream I could be part of. Being a princess is too far-fetched to bother thinking about, and so is the idea of ever fitting into his world. He may not be royalty, but he’s still a dozen or so classes above me.
Yet I don’t feel satisfied with what I have anymore, not when I think about how empty it will be without him. How am I supposed to fix that after I no longer have Kai?
“Smart girl.” Saran runs two fingers down the length of his tie, the side of his mouth twitching while he picks up his drink. “And yet you came to Vice.”
I don’t understand what amuses him so. “I was intrigued. When I found the card.”
I can’t tell him that I was intrigued by Kai, that I needed to know him as much as I needed to breathe. And look where that got me, my heart hurting because either way this plays out, I’ve fallen for a man I can’t have.
“What was it that drew you to the princess fantasy? Was it the money? The idea of being someone better than you believe you are?”
“Kai. He drew me.” Not money, not anything to do with the idea of being royalty. And the fact that Kai ends up being someone who fits into a world more like that than the world I live in is more of a problem than a drawcard. But I can’t explain that to Saran. I can’t give Kai away like that.
“He’s something. That’s for sure.” Saran smirks, but the way he studies me is unnerving. Does he know more than he’s letting on?
“Has Kaiser told you much about himself?” Scorch asks as servers place our meals on the table. “About where he comes from? He can be a little close lipped about his wealth, his family, and his country, but you’re here with us, so I’m guessing you know a bit by now.”
So they do know. He’d told me I was the only one who really knew him, but I shouldn’t be surprised that his friends know at least some of who he is. Still, I can’t bring myself to ask the questions I want, like who he is, who his family are, and where he comes from. I can’t bring myself to offer them any information they don’t know, no matter how curious I am. “No, not really. I thought this was a normal Vice thing. A sort of farewell to a game that’s run overtime.”
Kai comes to the table, placing a glass of champagne in front of me while holding onto his whisky. Sitting down, he leans in and places a hand on my knee as he studies my reaction to being surrounded by his friends. “Are you all right?”
“I-I’m fine.” I pretend to concentrate on my dinner, moving the food around on the plate. “It’s a little warm.”
“You’ve been satisfied with your experience?” Saran’s staring at me with a questioning look in his eyes, and Kai nudges me with his elbow.
“I guess.” Everyone else is eating, but I can tell they’re all listening to our conversation. And how can I tell them I’m not satisfied? That I’m so much more broken now than I was when I was certain I was unloved, homeless, alone. “I mean, I think so. Yes.”
They all stick to small chat after that while they finish dinner, and I harass my food into piles.
Then Kaiser gets up, a smirk twitching around his mouth. “Time to dance, Princess.”
“Why did you introduce me to them?” I ask as he leads me out to the dance floor, the others not far behind us.
Pulling me into his arms, he guides me in steps that I’ve yet to master, but it doesn’t matter. My feet hardly touch the floor. He moves with an elegance a man his size probably shouldn’t have as he presses his mouth to my ear. “They’re a real part of my life. The closest thing I have to family here. As real to me as you are, beautiful. I wanted to show you this is as real to me as I hope it is to you.”
Shutting my eyes, I let him hold me close. I revel in having him pressed against me, and the possessive way he uses his mouth and his hands to remind me how much he wants me. If this is real, then he’ll be the death of me. “Is it over now? Are we done playing?”
“Midnight, Princess,” he whispers. “Not too long now. Everything that happens after that is no longer fantasy.”
***
“Allie, it’s time to go.” Kaiser yanks me from the dance floor, where we’ve spent most of our evening.
I’ve been watching the clock, which is why I know it’s not midnight yet. I’m not full on staring and watching the minutes tick by, but my attention keeps dragging back to the giant clock on the wall, knowing that this evening isn’t going to last forever. That his hard muscles and soft warmth won’t surround me much longer. I don’t know what happened tonight, but I need to get back to the real world. Once our time runs out, only then and not a minute earlier. “It’s not midnight yet.”
He doesn’t stop at the edge of the dance floor, doesn’t seek out Saran and the others. His jaw is steeled, and he speaks through teeth clenched tighter than the hold he has on my hand. “Don’t argue with me, Allie.”
He marches straight through the foyer and out onto the pavement where a limo is waiting. Opening the door, he shoves me inside and follows.
Sliding down on the plush leather, I wait for him to take a seat beside me. Or maybe I’m being wistful, because he crouches in front of me instead, cupping my face between his hands to brush his lips over mine in a whisper soft caress. “Only a little longer. I promise.”
“You’re leaving me?” I fight the urge to cling to him as I realize he has no intention of joining me for the remaining time until midnight. “Can’t we have one last hour?”
“Don’t you understand, Allie, that this is how it has to be?” His forehead bumps against mine and he stares into me. “The fantasy has to end for this to be real. I need you to understand that when you see me again it won’t be this game we’ve been playing. Only fact. You and I are real, but I have so many things I must tell you that will still seem like fantasy. I’m afraid if I keep you with me, you
won’t be able to see the truth.”
“The truth of what, Kai?” I will do anything to stay with him. Whatever it is that he is hesitant to tell me I’ll believe. “Come with me? Whatever it is, you can tell me.”
“Soon.” He pushes me back against the seat. “You promised me you’d do anything to make this real. And that’s what I’m asking of you. I need you to go home. I need you to understand that we will never play this game again. Can you trust that I’m drawing this line between fact and fiction because it is absolutely necessary?”
“Yes,” I whisper.
Grasping my hips, he tugs my ass to the edge of the seat before he glides my panties down off my hips. I lift each foot so he can take them off. Then his fingers tickle up the inside of my leg from ankle to lightly land on my clit. “Just a little while longer, beautiful.”
He shoves my panties in his pocket.
“What are you going to do with my panties?” This wasn’t how this fantasy was supposed to play out. He teases and tortures me every second we’re together, but that’s what brought me back over and over again. That’s why I rolled the dice on this game that we played. It may not have been genuine, but it made me feel more alive, more real than I ever had before.
And now the fantasy is truly over. Isn’t it? As tempted as I am by the idea that he means it when he says that he’ll come for me when this fantasy night is over, I’m so lost in him when he’s near that I can’t breathe, can’t decipher which feelings are real and which are not. This connection with him is unhealthy at best, an obsession at worst. A wish for something I’ve never had. A yearning for something that can’t possibly be real. Can it?
“I think you know, Princess.” He says softly, and I’m unsure if he’s talking about my panties or my overcrowded thoughts as he slides the same thumb he touched my pussy with against my lips.
