by CA Quigg
Rain lashed down from dark clouds, but the lousy weather didn't dampen my excitement or my curiosity. I was about to meet the man who'd married my mom. A real life crown on his head prince.
A shiny black limo with tinted windows pulled up outside the station, and after a few seconds, a six-foot-something man dressed in a black suit that had to be tailored especially for him stepped out and stood by the passenger door. He held up an iPad with my name on the screen.
God was looking down at me and smiling because Mr. Chauffeur was the sexiest most testosteroney man I'd ever seen in my entire life. Images of him tying me to the bed and spanking my butt flashed through my mind. The dampness in my panties had nothing to do with the wet weather and everything to do with him.
Heat flooded my cheeks and chest. Jeez Louise. I seriously needed to give dirty romance books a break. If my body reacted like this just by looking at a man, it meant it had been way too long since I'd given myself an orgasm. Something I'd have to remedy sooner rather than later.
I lugged my backpack behind me, and when I reached him, I pointed toward the iPad. "That's me. I'm Emma Brown. Hey. Hi."
He gave his head a slight nod, and when he smiled, my ovaries begged for him to help make babies. Lots of babies. His smile belonged in a commercial for toothpaste. In fact, all of him belonged on a billboard advertising perfection and not hidden behind the wheel of a car.
"Welcome to Rhias, Ms. Brown." His voice was raspy and more British than European, but there was a hint of French, or maybe Italian, mixed in there. A driver's cap hid most of his hair, but I could see a hint of gray at the temples, which, I guessed, put him somewhere in his mid-thirties. His eyes were the color of a delicious cup of coffee, and they more than warmed my skin. His face had a healthy glow and looked if he spent lots of time outdoors doing manly things like chopping down trees and climbing mountains with his bare hands.
Men like him weren't an everyday sight in my world and what a sight he was. My nipples more than liked him too. They showed their appreciation by pressing against the lace of my bra, begging to feel the rasp of his fingers and mouth. Thankfully, I wore a thick sweater that concealed everything, otherwise, there'd be no hiding how much my body wanted him. But as much as my body wanted him, my mind was in full nun mode and was busily scolding me for my lustful and wicked thoughts. The nun could take a hike to hell because right now my self-imposed celibacy was spreading her legs wide and yelling, take me, I'm yours.
"Thanks for the welcome, and please call me Emma."
He gave a curt nod and said, "I'm Kit Whitehall. Can I take your bag, Emma?"
"Sure. Thanks." I handed him my backpack, and for a split second, our fingers touched—skin on skin. He jerked back as if I'd burned him. I knew I looked disgusting and disheveled, but I didn't deserve that kind of reaction.
"It's okay," I said, trying not to show my annoyance. "I don't have any transmittable diseases that I know of. Touching me won't kill you." Without waiting for his reply or an apology, I opened the door and got into the back seat of the car. I had considered sitting up front with him, but screw that. He might be hot, but that didn't give him the right to act as if I had leprosy.
I should have put on a little makeup and brushed my hair, and I desperately wanted to brush my teeth because my breath could gas small animals to death.
If I'd taken five minutes to run into a bathroom, I wouldn't look like I'd spent the night on a park bench wrapped in newspaper. I sighed. Who was I kidding? It didn't matter what I looked like. Even at my most presentable, someone like him wouldn't look twice at someone like me. He was way outside my dating lane.
When I got to the castle, my first stop would be the bathroom where I'd have a skin stripping shower, but for now, I'd do what I could to fix myself up. I tugged my hair out of its topknot, so it fell in waves around my shoulders. My hair was one of my best assets, and when down, it covered a multitude of sins. It was long, thick and silky and never failed to make me feel better about myself.
The opaque divider between the front of the car and the back where I sat slid down. Kit adjusted the rearview mirror, and our eyes met. If he was embarrassed by how he'd acted before, he didn't show it. I shouldn't hold it against him. Maybe he had an aversion to strangers touching him. Shame because this stranger wanted to touch him all over.
"The Prince has asked me to take you directly to the castle. He eagerly awaits your arrival."
I raised an eyebrow in disbelief and resisted the urge to snort. I was sure the Prince was anything but eager about my arrival. "Awesome. I'm eager too. An eager beaver that's me." I put all the enthusiasm I could muster into my voice doing my best to hide my cynicism. I don't think it worked.
"Is this your first time in Rhias?" he asked.
"My first time anywhere." I brushed my fingers through my hair until I'd removed the tangled knots at the ends. "I've never left the state of Nevada before." I took my messenger bag from over my shoulder, rummaged around for some gum or mints, and hoped my dragon breath didn't make its way to the front of the car. "Do you know the prince?" I asked, grabbing a stick of half-opened gum from the bottom of my bag. A few pieces of fluff stuck to the exposed side, but whatever, it wouldn't poison me. I picked off the fluff before popping the gum into my mouth, but it was tasteless so I stuck it back in the wrapper and shoved it to the bottom of my bag. "I'm a little nervous about meeting him. The reason for my visit is unusual, to say the least." What would Kit say if he knew the Prince had married a waitress in Vegas and that he had the Prince's stepdaughter in the back of his car?
"I know him." Kit pulled away from the curb and focused his attention on the spotless road.
I waited for a few beats, but Kit wasn't giving anything else up. "That's it? That's all you're going to give me? Is he a nice guy? Is he stuck up and rude? What should I expect when I meet him? Is he going to fling me in a dungeon and leave me to die?"
"He's a nice man. He's never rude, never stuck up, and very open-minded. The people of Rhias mean a great deal to him. He's protective of everything and everyone he loves."
I didn't miss the warning in his words that said, don't fuck with the Prince or his people.
"Gotcha."
"As for being thrown in a dungeon. There are several different types of dungeons hidden in the caves beneath the palace."
Was that a smile I saw tugging at the corners of Kit's lips?
"What are the differences?" I asked, kind of wishing I hadn't.
He guffawed as if I'd asked him something hysterical. "Perhaps the Prince will allow you to find out those differences for yourself. But only very bad girls go there. And I doubt you're one of those, are you?"
"What? God, no." Heat flushed my cheeks, and I sank back in my seat not wanting to think about the connotations behind Kit's words, but that didn't stop my body reacting to those connotations. I'm a very bad girl sat at the tip of my tongue, but I swallowed the sentence down. Saying something so ludicrous would be absurd. By no stretch of anyone's imagination could I be called a very bad girl, but Kit made me want to prove that wrong. So, so wrong.
Without saying another word, he closed the divider between us, leaving me in relative darkness.
My panties grew damper by the second. Why was I this turned on? I shouldn't be this turned on. Nerves and stress left me a mixed up mess of horniness and anxiety, and I needed to do something about that. I pursed my lips in thought. I could be very discreet and quick just to take the edge off, but could I be that daring?
I glanced at the black screen shielding me from Kit. No one but me would know, plus it turned me on more knowing Kit sat in front with no idea about what I was up to behind the divider.
Biting back a giggle, I swept my fingertips over the waistband of my jeans and stretched out my legs. This was a first for me—masturbating in the back of a car. When I got myself off at home, I did it in the shower or alone in my bedroom beneath the covers, but I always satisfied my needs when I had to, and now was one of tho
se times when I had to.
A few minutes was all I needed, and then I'd be okay for a while, but if I kept seeing Kit and if he kept flirting with me about dungeons—I totally didn't understand why he did that—I'd have to sneak away and masturbate whenever I got the chance.
I popped open the button on my jeans and slid down the zipper. Every cell in my body screamed yes, go for it. I slipped my fingers beneath the waistband of my panties and pressed a fingertip against my very swollen clit. A zing of desire shot through me, and I sighed at the pure pleasure.
Usually, I teased myself more, not touching my clit until I was ready to burst, but I didn't have time for playfulness or building up the release. I had no idea how long it would take to get to the castle, so I had to be fast.
Excitement dampened the tops of my inner thighs. What did Kit mean by saying that perhaps the Prince would allow me to find out about the dungeons? Would he throw me in one of the cells and keep me as his slave? Would he shackle me to the walls and torture me with his cock. What if, instead of bringing me to meet the Prince, Kit was bringing me to a dungeon where he would keep me forever as his plaything? Somewhere I would keep my mouth shut about the Prince being my stepfather.
Pleasure spiked through me, and I bit back a moan. Nothing had ever penetrated my pussy, but in my present fantasy, I wanted to feel the heat of a man, preferably Kit, between my legs. I wanted his cock to take my virginity, and I wanted to orgasm while I rode him. My inner muscles clenched with want and need, and Kit's face floated to the forefront of my mind.
I slipped two fingers through my folds, gathering wetness, and brought them back to my clit where I circled them around my swollen nub, pinching, nipping, pulling.
My breasts were heavy and swollen and yearned for Kit's hands. He had big hands. Manly hands. Hands that would know exactly what to do with breasts as large as mine. My nipples puckered and hardened. They were one of my most erogenous zones and always got me off, and I needed to touch them, to give them the relief they ached for.
I slid my free hand beneath my sweater and released one of my breasts from the confines of my bra. When my fingertips brushed across my nipple, there was no stopping the moan falling from my lips, and I prayed the roar of the engine was loud enough to drown out the sounds of my pleasure.
The car swerved slightly, but I didn't stop. I couldn't stop. The need for release blinded me to everything else.
I made my movements faster, firmer. I needed to come like I needed air to breathe. Shots of electricity moved between my nipples and clit, and my inner muscles continually clenched around nothing. Excitement soaked the crotch of my underwear, drenching the material. I'd have to put on a fresh pair as soon as I could. Meeting the prince in a pair of panties I'd creamed wasn't good etiquette, but maybe, just maybe, it would add to the thrill of the day.
I was so close but couldn't seem to get there. I needed more stimulation because what I was doing wasn't enough. I hunkered down on the floor and steadied my body by leaning my forehead against the cold leather seat in front of me. If the car crashed, I was fucked. Being found dead with my jeans and panties around my ankles wasn't something I wanted written in my obituary.
I shimmed my jeans down a little and then released both breasts from my bra. One hand went between my legs, and the fingers of my other hand massaged both nipples at once. Needing to feel a little pain, I dug my fingernails into my nipples until the sensitive bud smarted. I was so, so close.
Images of Kit jerking off behind me filled my brain. He would fist his cock, jerking off until his hot cum spurted all over my lower back and dripped between my ass cheeks.
I'd gather some on my fingertips and massage his semen into my clit until I climaxed with him on my fingers. Every muscle in my body tightened and tensed ready to let go.
A sweet orgasm engulfed me, and a whoosh of pleasure washed over me. I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood. But if I hadn't bitten my lip, my screams of ecstasy would have alerted Kit to what I was up to behind the divide. What would he say if he slid down the divider and saw me hunkered down and acting so depraved? Would he be disgusted or would he be so turned on he would stop the car and make me suck his cock? A man's cock had never been between my lips before, but I wanted to taste Kit's so bad it hurt.
When my breathing returned to normal and the craziness that had engulfed me a few seconds previously dissipated, I fixed myself and blew out a deep breath. Crap. Why couldn't I have controlled myself and waited until I was alone? It wasn't like I would've died without coming for a few more hours.
I sucked at my bottom lip and stemmed the blood. How could I have allowed my hormones to control me like that? Jesus. I needed to rein it in. Masturbating in the back of a car, fantasizing about a man I'd just met, in a country I knew nothing about was dumb. Acting like a sex-starved nymph wasn't the greatest way to begin my time in Rhias. It would not happen again. Nope. From now on I would show restraint. My fantasies and hormones would no longer get the better of me.
Thank God Kit hadn't slid down the divider, and we hadn't reached the castle. I could just imagine the prince opening the door and seeing me with my fingers circling my clit. The dungeons would be my new home for sure.
Would it be easier to have sex with someone and get it over with? Maybe then I wouldn't fantasize about sucking the cock of a man I'd known for less than ten minutes.
Kit had the starring role in my mind right now, which was stupid. He could bag a supermodel, but in my mind he worshiped me, and if I couldn't have him in real life then I would settle for having him in my dreams.
I slid down the window to let in some fresh air and to hopefully dilute the scent of sex.
During my bus ride to Rhias, I'd watched the scenery fly by and it had taken my breath away. Glorious snow-peaked mountains, rolling hills and green countryside had floated by my window, but there were a few times, like when we went over cliff side roads, I'd prayed not to die at the hands of French bus driver who seemed to have a death wish.
The part of Nevada I was from was dry and flat, and since I hadn't traveled out of the state, I hadn't seen much, but in the past day, it was like the world had opened up her arms and said here I am, come get me.
Kit drove us through narrow, winding roads, which got steeper as the minutes passed. Rain still teemed down, but that didn't take away from the beauty of the picturesque terraced houses with small balconies lining the streets, or the sprawling villas nestled on the sea cliffs. High above the city, Rhias' redbrick castle rose from dense woodlands looking every part the fairytale fortress.
Cafés crowded the pavements, and beneath canopies elegant women smoked cigarettes drank from espresso cups. I lifted my hand to my mouth and pretended like I had a cigarette clasped between my fingers and held a teeny cup in my other hand. I sniggered at the absurdity of it all. The one time I'd tried to smoke a cigarette I'd thrown up and had vowed never touch them again. Coffee, however, was my one true addiction. During college, my blood was more caffeine than anything else.
I would never fit in with these women. They were much too sophisticated. I was a clumsy elephant while they were graceful gazelles. But that didn't matter because I had only planned to stay for a few days before heading back home to my real life and new job.
The car slowed to a stop, and I gazed out of the window to see where we were. A set of towering golden gates stood in front of the car. We were here. We were at the palace. Butterflies and anxiety fought for dominance in my belly. Thank God I hadn't eaten because if I had, I would've vomited all over the interior of the car.
From my research, I'd found out that for years and years not many strangers were permitted to enter the palace grounds. After the Queen's death, the King had ordered the gates remain closed.
King Sebastian had vowed to protect his children from intrusion, and he'd kept that promise for decades. Because of his love and protectiveness, the royal family could now travel the world without recognition, which was why Prince Kristian got away with mar
rying a bottle waitress in Las Vegas sixteen years ago.
The gates swung open and the scent of cypress trees wrapped around my body, hugging me and somewhat settling my nerves.
For what seemed like centuries, the car wound around a tree-lined driveway. On the way, the rain stopped, and the sun peaked through the clouds as if to welcome me. I took that as a good sign of things to come.
Kit drove us past the storybook palace fit for a Disney movie but he didn't slow. I wanted to knock on the divider and ask him to stop, so I could take in the beauty and splendor, but I was too nervous to do anything other than gape at the rose-filled grounds. Later, I would explore, that's if I wasn't thrown in one of the aforementioned dungeons and flogged for daring to breathe the same air as royalty.
Kit drove us to a garage at least a mile away from the castle. When the car stopped, I stepped out, but before I had a chance to situate myself or look around, Kit appeared beside me.
"I hope you found the journey pleasurable?" He raised an eyebrow and gave me a slight smile.
I cleared my throat. "It was good. Great. Thank you." A fevered embarrassment warmed my body. There was no way he could have known about what I'd done, was there? I was quiet and careful, and, besides, the divider gave me privacy.
We both stood in silence, his eyes scrutinizing me, studying me. I was being paranoid and needed to stop driving myself crazy. He couldn't have known, not unless…there were cameras in the car. Cold dread washed over me, and a clammy sweat coated my skin. I wanted to dive into the car and check. What if he'd watched everything I'd done?
Fuck. Shit. Balls.
"Follow me, please." Kit slung my backpack over his shoulder and strode away. His steps were measured and distinct, and in a small way, his authoritative body language reminded me of Captain Von Trapp from the Sound of Music and the urge to sing Do-Re-Mi came over me.
From the garage, we entered a nondescript, cold and gray tunnel, which I guessed meant we were beneath the grounds. And this is where I'm thrown into a dungeon and left for dead.
