by Xavier Neal
“In here,” her voice faintly replies from our bedroom.
I quickly dart across the room and enter just as she plops down on the edge of our bed wearing only a fluffy white towel. A whimper helplessly falls from my lips at the sight.
Bloody hell, I want nothing more than to dirty her all up, so I can bathe her with my tongue.
In an attempt to cut through the overly thick air, I tease, “And here I was hoping, we’d shower together when I returned.”
She tries not to smirk. “And have to smell that papaya conditioner you swear by, no thank you.”
The two of us share a light chuckle. Afterwards, I lean against the door frame and apologize, “I’m sorry for how I behaved earlier. You were right. I should’ve been thrilled you have such an incredible opportunity waiting for you. You’ve more than earned it and while I snapped at you for your unwillingness to give it up for me, the cold, hard truth is you’re giving much more up than I realized, simply by agreeing to marry me. Of course, you should have the job you want. If you get it then…” I shrug unsure of the actual mechanics, “we’ll figure out a way to make it work. It’ll probably involve a ridiculous gas bill for the jet.” The second a smile creeps onto her lips, I add, “But we’ll cope. Call it father’s wedding present or something.”
For longer than I like, she remains completely silent. I do my best to maintain my composure on the outside while my heart is thumping heavily against my chest on the inside.
What if she’s changed her mind? What if she regrets saying yes? What if she gives me my ring back? Fuck. Why do I feel like an insecure schoolgirl all of a sudden?
My voice tries its best to remain steady. “I promise to try to be more understanding.”
Brie knots her fingers together and drops them into her lap. “Kellan, you’re already really understanding about the things that matter to me. And after taking a little bit of time to think about it, as well as a good hard scolding from my father, I realized you weren’t asking too much of me. That marriage, just like all relationships, is going to require compromise and if you’re willing to then I need to be willing to do it as well. You weren’t asking me to give up my love of art for you, you were simply asking me to do something with it closer to you than in a completely different country.”
I fold my arms across my chest as shock takes hold.
Am I drunk? Is she apologizing? Who do I contact in regards for keeping this event in history? See. I told Hugh it’s not always the man’s fault. Though…I think this time maybe it was a bit of both. Perhaps seventy…thirty?
“Plus, I gotta admit, I’m a little scared about this whole thing. I mean, moving to a new country, living in or near the palace, becoming an actual princess-”
“And a duchess.”
“Not helping,” she mutters with a glare.
I surrender my hands.
“All of those things in reality are terrifying. They’re not like you watched in movies as a kid. They’re complicated and nerve wracking and I’m assuming very stressful. I just…began to panic at the idea of having your ways completely overthrow mine to the point I couldn’t even have my parents at our engagement party.”
“But, love, that’s not at all what I was trying to say. They are of course welcomed to any event we throw at the palace. This event being shoved down our throats is simply a formality. Nothing more. A formality that if your father were well enough I would be delighted to have your immediate family attend. I expect us to host a fabulous engagement party here in the states. I expect you to do all the things you want to do for our wedding. I would never take that away from you. There are just…certain moments we may have to double up on, including an engagement party.” She nods slowly, which is when I add, “You are giving up quite a bit to become my wife and I never want you to think I take that for granted. Anything you want, love, anything that will make the transition easier for you please, please speak up to let me know. Being royalty has its curses, but I will do everything I can to shelter you from the worst of them.”
Brie rises to her feet to cross over to me. “Don’t shelter me, Kellan. I agreed to marry you, which means I agreed to go through this with you.” Her arms slide around my waist. “Shiny tiara wearing and all.”
Never wonder why I love this woman…
“I already told you, there’s not an actual crown for you to wear…”
“There is if I want to wear one at my wedding.”
The corner of my lip kicks up. “Is that a request? Will having an actual crown make all this easier for you to swallow?”
She gives me a short shrug. “We’ll see.”
I chortle and let my hands roam down her backside. “Want to swallow something else in the mean time?”
Brie giggles her disgust yet slips a hand across the crotch of my shorts where my dick is beginning to stiffen.
What! She’s practically naked! The only things standing between him and a great time are these shorts and one tug of that towel.
Her fingers wind around it over my shorts causing me to groan. I cup her ass tighter, lower my heated gaze to hers, and question, “Shall we practice for our honeymoon?”
Rather than answer with words, she lets the tip of her tongue drag itself across my top lip. An animalistic growl leaves me as I capture her tongue with mine. There’s a small squeak followed by a relieved moan from our mouth’s feverish movements. I slowly lead her backwards into the room, discarding the towel in route to the bed. When her body bumps against the edge of it, I push her backwards, yank off the clothing barriers, and position myself between her legs. With a sly smirk on my face, I gently guide a finger inside, keeping my palm flatly pressed against her clit to create the pressure she craves. Brie repeatedly bucks her hips against the action and I watch her eyes become erotically glazed. The moment her breath begins to shorten in unison with her tightening pussy, I remove my finger and reposition her for the taking. Once her legs are tightly pressed to her chest, I push through the blissfully blistering heat to the hilt.
Her body bows off the bed and she begs for mercy, “Kellan…”
“That’s where my name belongs, love,” I link both of our hands, “always on your lips.”
I use our connection to tug her body into each titillating thrust. Brie beautifully bounces on my cock, ass brushing against my balls just enough to add a sliver of delicious excitement. Her pussy clamps down in a harsh attempt to completely consume my cock, while my eyes drink in the sexy as sin sight of her gliding up and down my shaft. Our speed continues to rapidly increase until we’re both frantically clashing in desperation.
The sound of her lascivious moans melting into sacred invocations indicates how close to the edge she is. How close we both are to completely shattering. Suddenly, her pussy begins to pulsate, milking my cock in the process. I come in long, strong strides that cause my knees to shake from the intensity. Our bodies tremble and our breathing becomes so shallow our lungs burn.
And that ladies, is why make up sex comes in second to only now we’re engaged sex.
Brie’s body releases its grip on mine. As soon as I carefully remove myself, she crumples like a ragdoll. I allow my depleted body to swell back up with pride.
Why wouldn’t I be bloody proud? Possessing the ability to always leave your lover satisfied is something worth bragging about. For now, I’ll just brag to you. You see her, don’t you? She can barely move a muscle.
“I’m going to grab you a towel, then me a shower. Would you like to have your parents over for dinner?”
Her voice is delicate and dreamy. “After a nap…”
I chuckle, place a soft kiss beside her ear, and whisper, “Sleep well, my love.”
She hums something incoherent back.
No words are necessary at this point. It’s quite clear from our mutual shared apologies the only thing that matters is our determination to make ‘us’ work. Sure this was a minor tiff, but there was still a victory. If I’ve learned anything from life other than
to have as much fun as possible before you die, it’s to enjoy every victory you can, because life isn’t going to run out of battles and you’re not guaranteed any certain number of triumphs.
I groan a bit as I try to wiggle into a more comfortable position.
Sleeping through the night on a jet couch isn’t ideal. Why do I feel like it was more comfortable the first time? Holy shit, I am becoming spoiled already?
My eyes struggle to open and focus around at the empty setting. The moment I sit completely up, Kellan’s voice teases, “Morning, Sleeping Beauty.”
I turn my head to the other side of the jet where he is lounging in a white recliner beside a fancy decorated table. “More like Slumberella. I see the jet didn’t turn into a pumpkin like you feared it would if we left later.”
After a nice early dinner out with my parents as an adorable way to celebrate our engagement ‘properly’ before celebrating it with his family, I rushed around the penthouse trying my best to repack for the trip. While I should’ve packed earlier in the week, the combination of ‘I’ve Missed You’ sex and ‘Newly Engaged’ sex on top of the traditional ‘Make Up’ sex made it damn near impossible to walk, never mind pack. I even had to lock myself in our room at one point to try to gather everything I thought I would need for…well…for some unknown vague amount of time. The truth is neither of us know exactly what to expect or what type of schedule we will be on. I did call back and cancel my interview. As amazing as that job might have been if I got it, Kellan had a valid point. We will be living in Doctenn. I can’t have a job that requires that I don’t. He’s willing to compromise on so many things; I need to be willing to as well. Ugh. Just don’t tell him he was right, okay? The last thing he needs is an excuse to be even smugger than he is.
“For the hundredth time, love, we couldn’t have left any later.”
“The announcement isn’t until like eleven.”
“And the itinerary begins at eight.”
My eyebrows dart down. “What itinerary?”
He places his tablet on the table and motions his hand to the chair across from it. “Breakfast first. It’ll make hearing it all easier.”
Another groan of disapproval leaves me, but I stand to my feet.
Kellan’s grin grows. “As much as I hate the fact you weren’t sleeping naked, I’ll admit, I rather enjoy the sight of you snug in my favorite lacrosse team t-shirt and those sexy black panties.”
I give my wavy bed head a ruffle. “I’m not having sex with on this plane today.”
“Jet.”
An automatic glare pops onto my face. “Especially not now.”
He chuckles at the same time the older female flight attendant arrives with her cart. She lifts a bottle of champagne and angles it towards us. “Mimosa?”
Kellan nods, but I decline. She reaches for his glass and I question, “You’re seriously going to start drinking before noon? Are we headed for Doctenn or Vegas?”
The moment the drink is in his hands, he counters, “How about Doctenn then Vegas? After all…we do have the jet…”
I nod at the offer of plain orange juice and hand her my glass. “Don’t you have work that needs to be done? A program that needs your love? Plus, don’t forget, I kind of want to look for something too. I know we talked about a summer vacation, but I think playing tourist is going to get very old, very fast. Not to mention how any of that will mesh with the wedding planning. Oh! And I’m going to need to find a local art supply store to stock up on some things. I went through most of my spare journals and pastels when I couldn’t sleep these last few weeks.”
He reaches his left hand out to hold mine.
Between my father’s heart attack and nursing my heart ache, sleeping wasn’t something I was able to enjoy, so I completely drained all my art supplies I had left over from college while binge watching Doctor Who. It was mainly the remnants of my final piece. Lots of pastels, some water colors, a set of charcoal pencils and a couple empty sketchbooks.
“You can have all the boring art shit you want delivered to you.”
I scowl at his choice of words, which makes him smirk. “Don’t make me get jelly on this thing.” My free fingers point to his beloved sports shirt. “Smearing grape around it may bring more joy than if I were to wipe some on those eleven hundred dollar pants of yours.” Before he can retort, the flight attendant places a bagel down on each of our plates. “I can’t put jelly on that…”
She gives me a polite smile. “We don’t have any jelly on board.”
My shoulders drop and my hands fall into my lap. “Is toast not an option in the sky kitchen?”
“It was not on the pre-approved menu. This, toasted whole wheat bagel was the bread selection for breakfast. I have plain cream cheese and strawberry if you would like. There is also a selection of fresh strawberries, blueberries, and craisins for your parfait.”
“I’m sorry, your words made sense, but your lack of sarcasm did not.”
She bites back the urge to laugh while placing the yogurt concoction down on the plate beside the bagel.
Oh dear lord, she was completely serious.
My eyes dart to Kellan who is sipping his mimosa. “Why do you want to get divorced before we even get married?”
He lightly laughs and places his glass down. “Very dramatic.”
I point to the contents on my plate. “Very disgusting.”
“Since when don’t you like bagels and yogurt?”
“Since you’ve spent all week spoiling me with bacon and pastries.”
There’s this local bakery he discovered that makes these crepes filled with cinnamon, cream cheese frosting, Nutella, and sprinkled with powder sugar on top. Not really sure if it was having two of those or kitchen counter sex that sent me into the sleep coma after consumption.
“Trust me, love. The last thing you want to do is eat something like that before you’re stuffed into a gown and forced to smile for fifty or more photographers.”
His words loosen my jaw. “What? Did you mean five?”
“No.” He reaches for the plain spread the flight attendant placed in the middle of the table and covers his bagel. “I meant fifty. There’s at least one coming from each of the different territories our country is broken up into. Think, if each of your fifty states were to send a representative to partake in the event. It would resemble something similar to that, but there will also be the entire Royal Press team as well as a few selected guests from other countries.”
I try not to let the information silence me. “Um…And this is just for the announcement?”
Kellan casually has a bite of his bagel and nods. “Of course, they’re all offered the opportunity to attend the party as well to continue the coverage. All invitations sent are allowed to bring a single guest as well.”
“How many can we expect at the party?”
“Last I was informed we were right on the other side of four hundred.”
“People?!” I shriek.
“Oh, I’m sorry did you want me to exclude the llamas and other wild life?”
His sarcasm causes me to scoff, but successfully makes me smirk.
Smacking him would’ve made me feel better too.
“Relax, love.” He offers his left hand again for me to hold. Once I do, he continues, “You’re not facing any of these people alone. We’re in this together. It’s not going to be as nightmarish as your beautiful mind is imagining.”
“I’m thinking seeing the movie Chucky at the age of four, level of nightmare, right now.”
“What is that? Is that a horror film?”
A surprised expression appears on my face. “Really? You don’t remember that creepy doll?” When he shakes his head, I sigh, “Lucky. I made the mistake of trying to sneak a peek as a kid and ended up having nightmares for months.”
“Hard headed from an early age.”
“What’s that Kettle? You need to check your voicemail? Concerned it could be about you calling someone black?”
Kellan chortles and has another bite. “You can make race jokes before noon, but I can’t enjoy a beverage?”
I prepare to snap that’s not at all what I was referring to when his laughter erupts.
Why do I want to marry him again? Please remind me. No. No. I’ll wait….
After wiggling my hand away from his, I pick up my spoon, and poke at the sad contents in front of me. “Why is this announcement thing so important again?”
His body seems to tense immensely. “It was important to my mother, more than some of the other traditions. In the past our family was known for being private, almost too private to the point it made the public weary in our regard.”
