DOUBLE PRINCES: A Twin Step Royal Romance (With BONUS Book His Tight Little Brat)

by Cassandra Dee

  “FUUUUCK,” he roared, man milk pulsing down my esophagus, hot streams of fluid drenching me, making me choke. I was suddenly overflowing with semen, but it only magnified my spasms below, and I came again, my twat on fire as Hayden worked it like a madman, my juices practically a waterfall now, drenching his forearm with precious liquid.

  And I would have collapsed, my limp, sated form boneless, practically senseless from the amazing turn of events, panting with ecstasy, had it not been for a subtle knock on the trailer door.

  “Highness, the customs agent is here,” came the discreet voice of the butler. “Is Ms. Miller ready?”

  My eyes flew open. The trailer walls were pretty thin, probably not much more than corrugated metal slapped together with some particle board. Had the entire crew been able to hear us going at it, the walls of the trailer shaking from our sex session?

  But the men only chuckled. Holt withdrew from my mouth, his snake appearing inch by slow inch, gleaming with a mix of saliva and cum.

  “Mmm, little girl you did good,” he remarked, looking at his massive drain pipe. It looked like it could go for another round … or three.

  “We’re only sorry we didn’t make you a part of the Mile High Club,” added Hayden wickedly as he held up the used dildo. It was so wet, the rubber dripping with my juices, a line of female liquid running off the handle. But Hayden’s mind was in the gutter, and he sucked the toy into his mouth, savoring my sweet cream.

  “You taste good,” he said, shooting me a lascivious smile. “We’ll be in touch.”

  And with that, they bundled me up and packed me off onto the plane. Just as anticipated, a customs agent came on board and stamped my passport, the much-coveted Slovanian exit stamp. But I hardly noticed, sitting in a daze, my pink bits still damp and dripping, achy and sore in the best way possible. I’d just had the most incredible adventure … for the second time.

  PART TWO

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Summer

  I watched the news with a frown. We’d gotten back from Operation Smile a while now and it was almost like it hadn’t happened. Bombarded with classes, midterms and quizzes, suddenly the medical mission seemed far away, a lifetime ago.

  And disappointingly, I hadn’t heard from Holt and Hayden. Sure, I wasn’t expecting two alpha males to be on my trail, but after doing them twice in twenty-four hours, engaging in the hottest DP, I figured at least they’d check-in. But my emails had gone unreturned, the twins disappearing into the ether.

  So I’d thrown myself into my schoolwork, applying for more scholarships, grant funds, anything to help keep me afloat financially and emotionally. The work had helped keep me busy, distracted, and I’d managed to keep depression at bay, burying myself instead in homework and classes.

  Suddenly the door opened.

  “Hey,” said Jenny, coming into our dorm room. Our shared space was so small that our twin beds literally touched, there was no way to arrange the furniture any other way. “What’s going on?” she asked, tossing her backpack onto the floor.

  I looked up from the TV.

  “Doesn’t Operation Smile seem like it happened ages ago?” I asked sadly. “Like a million years in the past?”

  “Yeah,” sighed Jenny, plunking onto the couch beside me. “Tell me about it. At least we don’t have to eat that food anymore,” she said, her nose scrunching. “Not that the cafeteria here’s much better.”

  I had to laugh at that. It was true, the food here was just as bad, the smell horrendous. But there were more important things.

  “Do you think our abduction was related to the rebels?” I asked doubtfully, nodding at the TV. The news showed an uprising in the country, rebel armies laying siege to a major city while the King ordered the army to the ground, basically putting Slovania under martial law. “You think wanted to make a point capturing foreigners or something of the sort?” I asked.

  “Not likely,” snorted Jenny. “We were in a poor, rural area helping needy families. Why would they even bother with us?”

  “But maybe it was religiously driven,” I said dubiously. “Maybe they wanted the villagers to convert.” There was a rumor that the rebels were religious militants, forcing villagers to adopt a new religion.

  “None of this stuff is driven by God,” answered Jenny sardonically. “Everything’s a cover for money, blood money in this case.”

  And I sighed. My friend’s view of the world was so harsh. No one was motivated by the promise of ninety-nine virgins waiting in heaven anymore, it was cold hard cash that made the world go around.

  Suddenly I felt depressed and with a sigh, put away my books.

  “You going tonight?” Jenny asked me.

  “Yeah, I’m going,” I said. “I have to, I haven’t worked in weeks now.”

  I was referring to my job as a go-go dancer. Okay, that’s a nice way of putting it. I’m a stripper, it’s my night job and I do it to pay tuition. Because unfortunately, my mom selling our Subaru hadn’t been enough and I’d picked up a gig to make ends meet while in school.

  And I feel lucky, to be honest. A lot of girls wouldn’t feel the same in my shoes, I’m sure, but the Donkey Club isn’t that bad. It’s just a bus ride away, short enough for me to get there and back in one night, long enough so that no one from school would bother to go. That way, I kept my moonlighting under wraps, my reputation squeaky clean.

  “What are you doing tonight? The usual?” asked Jenny, helping herself to some ice cream from the freezer.

  “Nah, I think I’m going to go easy,” I said. “No acrobatics. It’s been three weeks since I was on stage and I haven’t been feeling limber, I’m all stiff arms and legs now.”

  “Yeah, I know what you mean,” said my friend, wolfing down bite after bite. “Well, say hi to Stanley for me.”

  I sighed. Stanley was the manager at the Donkey Club, our so-called boss. He was a dirtbag, but we had to kiss up to him, it was never a good idea to antagonize the guy who held the purse strings.

  “Tell him I’m not doing the duet with Whimper,” added Jenny forcefully. “No way, Whimper would crush me.”

  I had to laugh. Stanley wanted to try out new acts, and one was a girl on girl twin act. Because Jenny and Whimper looked alike, they’d been paired for a dance where they’d whirl around on two gold poles. It’s been done a million times before, but hey, guys pay good money for the same old thing.

  So I nodded and laughed, getting my bag together, carefully stashing my outfit, a purple sparkly number. It was just a few inches of cloth, really, of the deepest violet lamé, which barely hid my boobs and snatch. But that was the beauty of it. Even a little mystery is enough to whip men into a froth, and the three tiny triangles were enough to get the engines revved.

  Standing up with a sigh, I slung my duffel over my shoulder.

  “I’ll be back late tonight, don’t wait up,” I said over my shoulder, heading for the door.

  Jenny grunted through another scoop of ice cream. “Get ‘em girlie!” she cried after me. “Yee-haw!”

  Yee-haw was right. I was on my way to the Donkey … but my mind was still on Slovania and the twins.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Summer

  The dancing last night had been tough. I’d whirled on stage, baring everything, giving it my all, to end up with two hundred in tips. Okay, the Donkey isn’t exactly known for being high class but two hundred was pretty lousy. On an average night I make three hundred, and on a stellar night I can make up to five. So the small roll of ones in my hand the morning after was a bummer.

  Just then my phone rang.

  “Hey Mom,” I said, picking up. Candace was cool. She had me when she was relatively young, a girl still, so we were more like friends than mother and daughter. I half-expected her to break down crying about her latest romantic escapade or giggle about a soap opera hunk, sighing about how handsome he was.

  And I wasn’t wrong. Candace immediately launched into a monologue about her latest guy without
stopping to take a breath.

  “He’s gorgeous honey, maybe a little on the thin side, but I can’t believe he likes me! He’s a little younger but it doesn’t matter, you know women are so empowered today, wasn’t Ashton Kutcher fifteen years younger than Demi Moore?” she babbled. “But honey, it’s amazing, he’s royalty can you believe it? I had no idea at first, I thought he just wanted another canapé but it turned out he’s a prince …”

  “Mom,” I interrupted. “What are you talking about? Start over again, slower,” I commanded.

  “Oh baby,” said Candace. “I’m happier than I’ve ever been. I met someone a couple months back, remember? His name is Halson.”

  I thought back furiously but couldn’t recall anything. The truth is that I usually tuned her out on the phone, it was easier to mumble “yes” and “uh-huh” at all the right times than actually try to have a conversation. Besides, this was before the trip to Slovania and my memory was fuzzy, it seemed so long ago.

  “Well baby, I met someone at my catering job and he’s invited me to visit him overseas!” she squealed. “Can you believe it? Me, Candace Miller, the guest of nobility.”

  I was perplexed. Nobility? Where was this coming from?

  “Mom, slow down. What are you talking about?” I said, shaking my head. It was totally possible that Candace’s head was in the clouds, that she’d gotten carried away by another handsome suitor promising the world but actually offering zilch.

  “Oh Halson’s part of the royal house of Slovania,” she gushed. “Isn’t that where you were? Baby I forgot to ask you about your trip, I’m sorry. How did it go? I know you came back early, but everything’s okay, right?”

  I rolled my eyes. It was just like my mom to forget that I’d been abroad recently.

  “Slovania was good,” I said, “nothing to complain about.” Of course, I was leaving out about a million things, but no matter, Candace didn’t want to hear it anyways. “You said the guy you met is from Slovania?” I asked, puzzled.

  “Honey, he’s not just from Slovania,” she lowered her voice conspiratorially. “He’s the Crown Prince.”

  Now I frowned. Slovania had a royal family, but weren’t the sons more like European playboys? The kind that bedded half the continent in their free time, going to glitzy parties and driving Maseratis?

  “Ma,” I said slowly. “How did you meet the crown prince of Slovania? And how do you even know he’s the crown prince? This sounds fishy,” I said, my eyebrows beetling.

  “Oh Summer, you’re always so suspicious,” my mom replied, sounding hurt on the phone. “Is it because you don’t think a prince would want to associate with your dear old Mom?”

  “Of course not,” I said exasperated. “I just want to make everything’s okay. So the crown prince of Slovania, the one who’s going to be king, has invited you to the royal palace?”

  It sounded doubtful but my mom gushed happily.

  “Yes! Halson is so charming, so nice, and he’s invited me to take a private jet over to Slovania this weekend. He’s going to show me around his country, give me a private tour of the capital city, all that stuff. It’s going to be soooo romantic,” she cooed.

  “But Mom,” I asked, frowning. “How did you meet Halson? We’re not exactly in the same social circles,” I said, trying to keep my voice even. My spidey sense was tingling, this whole thing sounded like a figment of her imagination.

  “My catering job, what else?” Candace chirped. “I was working a party at the embassy and there was a handsome man who just couldn’t stop looking at me. We chatted and I got his card. And baby, it wasn’t just any business card, it said “HRM” on it. You know what that stands for? His Royal Majesty!” she crowed.

  Mom continued to babble, but I didn’t say much in return. This was just too outrageous, princes don’t exactly pick up waitresses catering formal events. So I had to get my mom grounded.

  “Candace slow down,” I said slowly, using her first name. “I’m not sure you should be going anywhere. I mean, you don’t really know this guy, not really. Anyone could print up business cards, heck, I could be HRM Summer Miller.” It was true. There were a lot of scams these days.

  But my mom just pooh-poohed my caution.

  “No Summer, I looked him up on the web and it’s true. His Royal Majesty Halson is the Crown Prince of Slovania, first in line to the throne after his father. And baby, one more thing. You’re invited on the trip too!”

  That stumped me. Why? I was Candace’s daughter, why would you invite your date’s kid on a romantic weekend getaway?

  “I dunno Ma, this doesn’t sound right. I don’t like that after a few weeks, you’re already going on a trip with this guy.”

  “Baby, that’s why you’re invited,” she said impatiently. “I told him I have a grown daughter who wouldn’t approve and he suggested that I bring you along. That way you can meet him too, see what he’s made of in one fell swoop.”

  I shook my head. No guy would agree to this, I’d be a lump on their happiness, a built-in chaperone following them around. But there was no convincing Candace at this point. Instead, I tried another tactic.

  “But I have school,” I reminded her. “I can’t just take off.”

  “Oh honey, please,” said my mom, exasperated. “It’s just a weekend trip, you can leave Friday and be back Monday. Live a little baby, you work so hard already.”

  And I had to agree. I was tired. My jetlag still hadn’t passed, I’d been yawning in class, and my performance in school was less than stellar lately. Heck, given that I’d practically failed my last midterm, maybe I should take some time off just to re-charge, rejuvenate myself.

  “Well if you think it’s a good idea,” I said doubtfully.

  “I do,” replied my mom emphatically. “You’ll be back in no time. Pack your bags honey, prepare to be dazzled!” she squealed.

  And all I could do was laugh because Candace’s excitement was contagious. Sure, there was school, there was my job at the library, there was the endless amount of studying. But screw it. A weekend trip was exactly what I needed to get myself back up.

  Slovania was on the radar again … in the most unexpected of ways.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Holt

  Our big bro has never been our favorite guy. Halson has five years on us and we should have looked up to him, even idolized him as a role model, he was the crown prince.

  But Halson has always left us feeling flat, like a bottle of fizz left uncapped. More often than not he’s mopey, droopy and limp, only half a man. And this isn’t a new thing. Even when we were kids, he was empty, a wilted plant compared to us, his active, outgoing younger brothers.

  “Again!” our tutor would bark.

  “Faster!” our dad would yell.

  So Halson grew up under a lot of pressure, and to deflect it, he evolved inwards. It was rare to hear him speak, and he barely even made eye contact sometimes. The Japanese have a word for it – “herbivore men,” guys who live with their parents, shun sex, and are effeminate, taking up crochet, knitting, making clothes for their stuffed animals.

  Well, I’ve never seen Halson crochet or knit, but who knew what he did in his private quarters? Whatever it was, it certainly wasn’t working out or eating right. Although blessed with classic patrician features, Halson’s haggard already, his frame wispy, his face already shadowed, shoulders slightly stooped.

  And Hayden and I tried to understand. As younger siblings, we had none of the pressure to act “royal” so my twin and I were like lunatics running around the castle as kids, getting up to no good, creating a ruckus. And now we towered over our brother, twin beacons of power and dominance, throwing him into shadow.

  So it was with surprise when Halson stopped us in the hallway one day.

  “Hey brother, how goes?” Hay remarked. We could hardly see big bro in the dim lighting of the corridor, they needed to get better bulbs in here.

  “Good, good,” Halson rasped, his voice chalky from
disuse. “How was the medical mission?”

  I frowned. Operation Smile had been a shitshow after the girls left. We’d hoped to help at least a hundred more kids, but everything had broken down and only a few more operations were performed. The mission had ended with everyone going home dejected, accomplishing only a fraction of what we’d set out to do.

  But that was behind us now, and besides, Halson had never been interested in charity work. Frankly, no one had any idea what he was interested in, he was barricaded in his wing most days.

  “Operation Smile was okay,” I said blandly. “You should have come, brother, the Kolstya Mountains would have been good for you.”

  Almost on cue, Halson broke into a racking cough.

  “Yes, yes,” he sputtered between wheezes. “But my allergies won’t let me go. By the way, what do you guys know about New York?”

  That was a weird question. We’d been to Manhattan multiple times of course, staying in the ritziest hotels, dining at the Four Seasons. Not to mention hitting up clubs in our free time, the debauchery and nude girls right up our alley.

  But I decided to skip that, no point in confusing big bro.

  “It’s a great place,” I said smoothly. “Museums, the park, the shopping, can’t beat it.”

  “Great, great,” he rasped. “Because I met someone there.”

  Hayden and I shared a look. Really? It was unlike our brother to leave Slovania, heck, he barely even left the palace most days.

  “Oh really?” Hay asked casually. “Someone special?”

  And Halson nodded, coughing again.

  “Real special. In fact, I wanted to introduce you … she’s coming to Slovania this weekend.”

  I frowned.

  “All the way from New York? What, she has a business trip or something?” It was unlikely, but you never knew. Our country was slowly opening its borders, people of all sorts came by these days.