A Nordic King

by Halle, Karina

  I know you, I danced with you once upon a night. There we were, wishing this dance would last forever all time.

  And I know I’ll love him, forever all time.

  All time.

  But when the dance ends, the dream ends.

  Aksel walks me back over to Maja and the girls, and I guess to make up for the attention I got, he takes Maja by the hand and proceeds to lead her over to the dance floor. She protests, bashfully at first, and then somewhat violently trying to get out of his grasp, but Aksel is persistent and wins his aunt over, spinning her carefully around the dance floor as he did with me, until she’s laughing loudly, clearly enjoying the attention from her nephew.

  I’m happy.

  There have been so many moments these days where I’m struck, almost blinded, by all this happiness and this is just another one.

  Happy, happy, happy.

  If I’ve been asleep all my life, it’s now, because of him, that I’m finally waking up.

  “I want to dance, too,” Freja says in her small voice.

  I glance at her. “Okay, but you both have to do it. I’m an expert at dancing with two princesses at a time.”

  Both girls give me their hands and while Aksel dances with Maja, I twirl Clara and Freja around, their giggles as bright and bubbly as the overflowing champagne.

  This continues for quite some time until my feet start getting tired and the drinks have made me a little loopy.

  I tell Maja I’m going to the bathroom and I’ll be right back and before I’ve left the ballroom, Aksel is by my side, hand at my elbow and escorting me down the hall.

  “You’re driving me crazy,” he whispers harshly in my ear.

  “What are you talking about?” I ask.

  What did I do?

  He doesn’t answer, he just looks around him and when he sees that there’s no one around, he opens the bathroom door and pushes me in there with him.

  He quickly shuts the door and locks us in, and before I can say another word, he’s grabbing my face, lips devouring mine, tongue pushing into my mouth, stroking every pent-up desire.

  Oh, Your Majesty.

  I grab him in kind, my hands in his hair, at the back of his neck while his hands grab my waist, then my ass, trying to pinch and grope me through the layers of tulle. We grapple together in a frenzy of heat and lust and something unbelievably real. Something very us.

  I’m pushed back against the tile wall, pinned there, and I’m his, completely his. My body operates on pure instinct, throwing myself into him with no inhibitions, no caution. It craves him as much as my mind and soul do. As he presses against me, breathing hard and kissing me, messy and wet, I put my hands around his shoulders and relish the lean, taut muscles of his back as I pull him in.

  One of his hands is lost in my hair, tugging on it the way I like, and I let out a breathless gasp from the sweet pain.

  “I’ve never seen such a gorgeous creature in all my life until I saw you tonight,” he says, voice rough with lust. “Once upon a dream, indeed.”

  His other hand goes to lift the poufy hem of my dress, shrugging it up and up and up around my waist until it nearly takes over the whole counter. He slides the satin of my underwear aside and lets out a deep moan that I feel vibrate through me as he explores me with his fingers.

  “So wet,” he murmurs. “You get so fucking wet for me.” He sticks three of his large, long fingers inside me and I clench around them, begging for more. “You know I want it. I have to have it.”

  “Hurry up and fuck me,” I tell him. “Sir.”

  But really. This is a dangerous place to get off and someone’s going to knock on the door at any minute.

  He laughs, low and rich, reaching down to lift me up so my legs are wrapped around his waist. I reach down between us and frantically try to undo his belt. He stares at my frenzied hand for a moment, clearly enjoying just how much I want him.

  “Hold on,” he says, pulling down his tuxedo pants and boxer briefs until his cock bobs freely, so dark and rigid. I love him like this, so raw, thick, and all for me.

  He holds himself at my opening and waits for a few beats. I can feel the heat coming between us, the way his eyes burn into me, until his gaze drops to his cock as he’s about to push its stiff length inside me. Before I can urge him in, my fingers tighten their hold on his back, he pushes with one large, powerful thrust.

  I can’t help the cry that escapes from my lips, and then the soft, “Oh,” as he slowly, agonizingly, pulls himself out, his cock absolutely drenched.

  He eases himself back in, a few inches at a time, his lips brushing over mine.

  “You’re really something, you know that?” he whispers against my mouth, his words breaking off into a groan. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  “I think the whole palace would collapse,” I manage to say.

  Then he pushes himself back in.

  Slow fucking agony.

  My heart catches high in my throat. I can’t speak, I can only feel, and the intense gaze of his eyes tells me that something is happening, something new.

  Tonight was something new.

  Tonight I went to a ball and had a dance with a king.

  Tonight I think the world had a glimpse of what we try so hard to hide.

  His eyes continue to burn as he pushes himself in and out, pumping steadily. He grabs my chin lightly and holds my face, making sure I can’t break eye contact, can’t look away. It’s so intimate, the way his stare feels like he’s stripping me bare. But it’s Aksel. He can peer into my soul at any time. He’ll only see his own soul there.

  A home for his heart.

  Our moans are hushed, our breath rough and ragged as he moves inside me, his hips circling so he hits each and every tightly wound nerve.

  It’s so fucking good.

  It’s everything.

  We are joined, connected, and the more he thrusts in, deeper, deeper, the warmer he feels, like barely contained fire. A bead of sweat rolls off his nose, and finally his eyes pinch closed as he approaches his climax, his mouth going for the crook of my neck where he bites and sucks and grunts as he pounds me, each thrust getting faster than the last.

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he hisses, inhaling sharply. “I’m coming.”

  Before I even have a chance to try and catch up, he lets go of my waist and slides a finger over my clit, petting it twice, and that’s all it takes to set me off like dynamite.

  I explode outwardly, until I feel like there is nothing left, and he explodes into me. I can feel him inside, hot and potent as I throb mercilessly around him, my nails digging so hard into his shoulders as I ride him out that I know they’re going to leave marks tomorrow, even through his jacket.

  My heart is huge, filled with stars and bliss.

  This man. This king.

  I’ll give it all to be his queen.

  “Aksel,” I whisper, trailing off because I can’t catch my breath, because I know what I want to say, but I don’t know how to say it. That I want more and that I’m also afraid of it.

  He’s breathing heavily into my shoulder and I run my fingers through his hair, loving the feel of it, loving everything he is.

  “I love it when you play with my hair,” he murmurs. He lifts his head and gazes at me with sated eyes. He gently brushes his thumbs over my cheeks. “I love everything about you.”

  He’s got that look I love in his eyes, the one only I bring to him. Sleepy, relaxed, happy. Absolutely satisfied. In these moments his mask is gone, and the crown is elsewhere.

  In these moments he belongs only to me.

  The way it’s supposed to be.

  “We should get back,” I tell him. “People will wonder.”

  He nods, brows knitting together for a moment. “Of course.” He gently lowers me to the ground and then takes a wad of tissue paper, running it up the inside of my legs before unpoufing my skirt.

  We give ourselves the once over in the mirror. He smooths down my acres
of dress, I straighten his shirt and bowtie.

  “I’ll go first,” he says. “That way if I see anyone, I can stall them.”

  I nod, feeling all nervous about this whole thing suddenly. The blood is returning to my brain.

  He opens the door and sticks his head out. Seeing the coast is clear, he strides away purposely.

  I wait a few moments, so that he’s not associated with this bathroom at all.

  Then I step out.

  Just as Nicklas is walking in from the ballroom.

  He must have just passed Aksel on the way and there’s nothing to suggest that Aksel was with me in there.

  But my cheeks do feel like they’re on fire.

  And Nicklas is staring at me in an odd way.

  He walks toward me, his eyes so cold, and yet there’s a smug, knowing smirk to his face.

  “Bathroom occupied?” he asks, gesturing to it.

  “Uh, no, it’s all yours.”

  “Tak, Miss Aurora,” he says and then steps in.

  I know the truth about you, I feel like saying to him.

  But I don’t.

  I turn around and head back to the ball to find the girls.

  Chapter 21

  Aurora

  One of the perks of being a royal nanny is that you get to work for someone like Aksel. I know that actually sleeping with the royal you’re serving is not part of the job description, but it’s worked out fairly well for us.

  A perk that I just discovered is that when the royals go on vacation, you get to go on vacation too. And I don’t mean a rocky sailing trip down the cold coast of Denmark.

  I mean sunshine, white sand beaches and azure waters. Coconuts and music. Parrots and dolphins. Everything wonderful.

  We’re currently on the island of Saint Croix in the Caribbean. The island used to belong to Denmark at some point before it became part of the U.S. Virgin Islands. However, even though that was Denmark’s loss (hey, they still have Greenland), all the towns have kept their Danish names.

  We’re at an extremely private villa just north of the colorful town of Frederiksted. It’s just me, Aksel and the girls. No Maja, no Nicklas, no Henrik.

  Okay, so there were some royal attendants that are obligated to go with him everywhere, but he managed to have them stay at the gatehouse before the compound, giving us absolute privacy from everyone.

  It’s just us.

  Like we’re actually a family.

  After the ball last week, after we were almost caught by Nicklas, Aksel decided he wanted us to get away, somewhere far, somewhere hot and humid. Somewhere where we could sleep in the same bed and be together without worrying that others are watching. Somewhere we didn’t have to hide our feelings for each other, where we could just be together, be free.

  And while I still have my own room for the sake of the girls, it’s right next to Aksel’s and joined by a spacious deck, giving us complete and open access to each other. Believe me, we’ve spent the last six days making up for a lot of things.

  At the moment, we’re lounging on our private beach that’s right in front of the villa. It’s small but it’s gorgeous and the girls are in front of us by the water, making sand “palaces.” The sand is white and fine, like baby powder and the sea is so blue it almost hurts my eyes.

  We’re both on our stomachs on towels, a few beers between us. Aksel’s head is buried in his arms, so I let my eyes roam all over his body. He’s already so tanned, his body lean and long and rippling with muscles. His tight little bum is snug in a black Speedo that I like to snap the waistband of. Only fair, since he sometimes does that to my skirt, usually before shoving it up around my hips and having his way with me.

  “I don’t want to go,” I tell him with a sigh. “Can’t we stay here forever? Just like this.”

  He turns his head, cheek against the towel and squints at me, the sun in his eyes. “I wish we could. I think Stella would kill me, though.”

  When Aksel has to go abroad for an extended period of time, his sister, Stella, has to act as the regent in his place. In Denmark it’s called Rigsforstander and she’s currently at the palace, taking over all his official duties. I know she hates it, because she’s told me as much, but it’s the way it is.

  “Yeah,” I say. “She would. I just…I love being with you like this. Just us. Just…”

  “I know,” he says, and his eyes grow soft. “I love it too. In fact…,” he looks up at the girls who are giggling as the waves tease the sand palace, “I want to tell them about us.”

  I blink at him. “What?”

  “The girls,” he says quietly. “I want them to know that I love you and that you love me and that we’re together. That you’re more than just their nanny to me.”

  I shake my head, a bout of fear striking my heart. “You can’t do that. They won’t understand. Don’t tell them. Seriously.”

  He frowns at me as he leans up on his elbows. “They have to know at some point if they don’t already. Aurora, I don’t want to hide it from them. The way I feel about you, it’s not going away. It’s only growing with time. It’s not right to keep them in the dark. They deserve to know.”

  “What if they hate me for it?” I whisper. The thought makes me want to be sick. “What if they hate you?”

  “They love you,” he says emphatically. “It doesn’t matter that you aren’t their real mother, they love you for you and as you. They never want to let you go, just as I don’t.”

  But I’m no good. I’m not good enough for anything real. I’m only good in secret.

  “Why are you so afraid?” he says, twisting onto his side and reaching out to touch my face. “This is a good thing. This is everything.”

  I can’t explain it to him. “I’m just…I’m someone to hide in the dark. Don’t you get it?”

  “No. I don’t. You keep bringing up the fact that you’re the nanny and that’s why we can’t be together, but it doesn’t matter to me.”

  “It matters. Okay, it matters. I can’t measure up to Helena.”

  “No one says you have to.”

  “The tabloids do.”

  “The tabloids can go fuck themselves. They don’t matter.”

  But they do. I shake my head. “If you tell the girls…and things don’t work out…”

  His gaze sharpens, his jaw growing stiff. “Why wouldn’t it work out? Why would you even say that?”

  “Because, you’re a king and…”

  His fingers go back into my hair and he holds my head steady as he levels me with his eyes. “I am a king. And I belong to you in ways I never thought possible. More than I belong to my country, more than I belong to the people, I belong to you.”

  I don’t deserve this man.

  I.

  Don’t.

  Deserve.

  Him.

  I lick my lips, my mouth dry, my heart flooded. “Aksel,” I whisper.

  “I don’t want to live a lie anymore. I want to tell the girls and then I want to tell the world. But I won’t do any of that unless you’re on board. It’s fucking killing me not to be able to touch you in public, to not be able to sing your praises, to not let everyone know that I’ve found love, love that I’ll wear better than any crown.” He gives me a sad smile. “But I won’t do it until you’re ready.”

  He wears my love like a crown.

  I just wish I was worthy enough to do the same.

  “Just think about it,” he says, getting to his feet and holding out his hand for mine. “Come on. Let’s go for a swim.”

  I give him my hand and he doesn’t let go as we run down toward the turquoise waves. If the girls think the handholding is odd at all, they don’t show it. Maybe it’s because we’ve become so close with each other around them, that they think it’s natural. Maybe because what Aksel and I have is natural, as natural as the salt in the sea and the sun in the sky.

  He’s right. The girls do deserve to know the truth about us.

  I can only hope my heart will be read
y for it.

  * * *

  Later that evening, Aksel and I are standing on our deck overlooking the ocean. He leans against the railing, wearing just a pair of board shorts, no shirt. A warm breeze ruffles his hair, a half-empty beer dangles from his fingers. His gaze is focused on the horizon, content, and yet I can tell a million thoughts are running through his head.

  I stare at him and hope it’s imprinting in the back of my head like a film negative, so I can pull it up and stare at it whenever I want. This to me is the real Aksel. Gorgeous and commanding and searching for peace.

  I feel like he’s finally found his peace.

  It’s in me.

  “Get a good look?” he asks with a sly smile as he glances at me idly, taking a swig of his beer.

  “Always,” I tell him.

  “Have you thought anymore about what I said?” he asks after a long pause.

  “I liked that ‘wear your love like a crown’ part. It was very poetic, as usual.”

  He gives me a faint smile. “That’s not what I meant.”

  “I know.”

  He reaches out, his hand going around my waist and pulls me toward him. The girls are fast asleep in their room, it’s only the two of us out here. It feels like it’s the two of us against the world.

  His hand disappears into my hair and he leans in, kissing me softly on the lips. I run my fingers down his back, feeling his smooth, taut skin. In moments like this, it feels like we’re unstoppable, immortal, like we’re at the center of a swirling universe, a god and a goddess, with the worlds at our feet. Nothing can touch us.

  He pulls back just enough to let his lips brush against mine. I hear him swallow and when I open my eyes, he’s staring right into my soul, my heart. “I want a baby,” he murmurs so rough and so soft that I barely hear him.

  I frown, my stomach doing back flips upon back flips. “What?”

  A baby?

  A baby!?

  “I want a baby with you,” he says against my lips. “I want us to make one. To make a new life that’s mine and yours.”

  Holy fuck.

  That was not what I expected him to say.

  In fact, I’d never heard him mention children all that much, I assumed that Clara and Freja were all he’d wanted.