by Tia Siren
“You have ten seconds,” I said, trying to sound much braver than I really felt.
He looked me square in the eye and said, “My name is Nikolay Rostov. I am the crown prince of the House of Rostov, future king of Kosnovia. I hereby claim you, Rebecca Monroe, as my wife and future queen. You and I shall produce an heir that will carry my family name far into the future.”
I just blinked at him and said, “You have got to be shitting me.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN: Nick
This royal kidnapping was not going as well as I’d hoped it would. I had no idea how my father and grandfather had managed to take their wives so easily, but Rebecca was giving me a look that clearly said she wasn’t going to simply roll over and submit.
“You arrogant asshole,” she said. “Did you really think you could stumble into my bar and feed me that line of shit and expect me to just lay down and spread my legs for you?”
“Well, I believe I am supposed to tie you up first,” I said in a sad attempt at humor. I could see her face turning red. Her hands were clenched so tightly on the table her knuckles were white.
I held up my hands. “Please, just let me explain.”
“I have a gun,” she said, gritting her teeth, “and I’m not afraid to use it!”
“Rebecca, Becca Boo, please.”
Her face froze in anger for just a moment, and then she pushed back the smile that toyed at her lips and said, “What did you call me?”
“Uh, Becca Boo?”
She grinned and shook her heard. “What kind of kidnapper says Becca Boo?”
I made a goofy face and let my shoulders go up and down. “A very bad kidnapper?”
She covered the smile with her hand and shook her head at me. She let her green eyes burn into mine for a minute and then said, “You’re really serious, aren’t you? You’re not just an arrogant asshole; you’re a crazy arrogant asshole.”
I had to admit, if I had been sitting in her chair, I probably would have thought the same thing. I had to try to convince her otherwise, for the sake of my family and my country.
I held up my hands and did my best to sound rational. “In my country, it is tradition that the male takes the woman they want to marry and produce an heir with. My father took my mother, my grandfather took my grandmother, and so and so on back hundreds of years. I am the last Rostov male. The bloodline ends with me if I don’t take a woman and produce a son.”
She studied my face as I spoke, as if trying to weigh the truth of my words. She said, “You are serious, aren’t you?”
I gave her a nod. “We are one of the few monarchies left, and there is a movement by the people to remove my father from the throne and end the reign of the final Russian monarchy. If that happens, my parents will be exiled and will live out their days in shame.”
“But if you get married and produce an heir?”
“It may have no effect at all, but my father thinks a royal wedding and a royal baby would endear the monarchy to the people again. Especially if I were to wed an American woman.”
“An American? Why an American?”
“My father believes the shallow Americans would stand with the Rostov family if the heir was half American. Like Princess Grace of Monaco. No one even knew where Monaco was until the prince married the Hollywood starlet.”
“Well, I’m no Hollywood starlet,” she said with a smile. The anger had left her face. Her eyes were soft in the glow of the candlelight. “So, let me get this straight. You want to kidnap me, force me to marry you, and have a baby.”
I nodded. “When you say it, it really does sound silly.”
“Does it have to be in that order?” she asked.
I glanced up to find her smiling at me.
CHAPTER TWELVE: Rebecca
Nick looked up at me with his big brown puppy dog eyes. “What do you mean, does it have to be in that order?”
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. I couldn’t believe what I was about to say.
“I mean, for all practical purposes you’ve already kidnapped me,” I said, shrugging with my hands in the air. “I can’t go anywhere. The weather is holding me hostage, so technically we can call it a kidnapping. Wouldn’t you agree?”
He nodded and licked his lips. “Yes. I suppose that does qualify, technically.”
“So the question becomes, do we have to get married first or can we practice making babies now?”
I know, I couldn’t believe I said it either. I followed it up with this: “I have to be honest, your highness. I’m on the pill, so the chance of getting pregnant the first time would be a miracle. But I’m willing to try if you are.”
We both blinked at my words, as if our brains were mutually processing their meaning. It wasn’t an hour before that I was thinking it would take a miracle to make me leave this place behind. Maybe Nick was right. Maybe this was fate.
“I believe tradition allows for some flexibility,” he said, getting to his feet and coming around the table. “We can practice making babies, then get married when we get to Kosnovia.”
I swallowed the lump that had been building in my throat. Get married. Move to Kosnovia. I wasn’t entirely sure I was ready to commit to anything more than a night of passion, but the moisture that was seeping from between my legs was not going to let me back down now. Besides, I wasn’t entirely convinced that anything Nick said was true. Maybe it was just the best come-on line I’d ever heard. I’d worry about that in the morning. Tonight, we would pretend to make royal babies.
“Let’s take it one step at a time,” I said.
“As you wish,” he said, offering his hand to me.
“In that case,” I said, putting my hand in his, “consider me kidnapped.” He pulled me out of the chair and into his arms. “What happens next?”
“Next,” he said, brushing my lips with his, “I tie you up.”
* * *
I couldn’t tell you why, but I found myself completely trusting Nick as he pushed the robe off my shoulders and pressed his lips to my bare shoulder.
He moaned when he found that I was naked underneath the robe. He held me at arm’s length and took me in with his eyes. My lips longed to be kissed. My bulbous tits and hard nipples longed for his touch. My cunt ached to feel his fingers, his tongue, his long cock.
“You are beautiful,” he said, pushing me back onto the bed. His suitcase was on the floor. He unzipped it and reached inside. His hand came out holding four silk ties.
“Give me your hand,” he said. He looped one of the ties around the corner bed post and tied the other end around my wrist. With another tie, he bound my other wrist, and then each of my ankles. I lay on the bed spread eagle, bound at the four corners by the silk ties.
“Now what?” I asked, watching as he went to the foot of the bed to gaze down at me. He tugged his shirt over his head and pushed his sweatpants down his long legs. His cock sprang forth, already stiff and hard and glistening at the tip.
“Now, I make you mine,” he said. He wrapped his fingers around his cock and began to slowly slide his hand back and forth. “I’m going fuck you long and hard with my royal cock. Do you understand?”
“Yes, my prince.”
“I’m going to fuck you until you scream for me to stop. Do you understand?”
I felt the juices flowing from my pussy as I watched his hand slide back and forth over the shaft. The whole thing was so surreal. I heard my voice, but it was almost like it wasn’t coming from me.
“Yes, my prince. Fuck me long and hard with your royal cock. Fuck me until I scream for you to stop.”
“I’m going to stick my cock into your pussy and into your mouth. I command you to take every drop from me. Do you understand?”
“Yes…every drop…”
My voice was barely a whisper now. I glanced down at my nipples. They were hard and long, aching to be kissed and touched. My eyes were drawn back to Nick’s hand on his cock. Each time the hand would squeeze from base to head, drops o
f love juice seeped from the tip. I couldn’t wait to taste them on my tongue.
“I want to suck your cock,” I sighed, licking my lips. “Please, my prince, I want you in my mouth.”
“As you wish, my princess,” Nick said with a smile. He climbed onto the bed so that his knees were on either side of me and his balls dangled above my tits. His cock curved out from his blond pubes like a thick snake ready to strike. The tip glistened with his juices.
Nick reached around behind him and started twisting my nipples. The pain felt so good it made me moan.
“Suck my royal cock,” he said, leering down at me. I raised my head off the pillow and teased the tip with my tongue. His juices were warm and salty. I stuck out my tongue and he rested the head of his cock on it. I swirled my tongue around the underside of the head. Nick twitched and moaned.
I leaned my head forward and opened my mouth. Nick slid the head of his cock into my mouth. My lips closed around it. My tongue teased the tip as my lips slid back and forth over the shaft, taking him in an inch at a time until I felt the tip reach the back of my throat.
“That feels amazing,” he said. His right hand reached back and found my hot pussy, drenched in juice and ready to be fucked. He slid two fingers into my hole to wet them and then rubbed the juices around my clit until I felt like I was on fire. I moaned with his cock in my mouth.
Nick pulled his cock from my lips and moved down my body until his cock was between my tits. “I imagined tit-fucking you when I saw you in the kitchen,” he said. “I love your big milky tits.”
He put his hands on the sides of my breasts and pressed them around his cock, and then he started sliding his cock between my tits.
I leaned my head forward, and each time the head of his cock appeared from my cleavage, I gave it a little tease with my tongue.
“God, you’re amazing,” Nick said, sliding his cock back and forth between my tits, leaving a trail of hot juices behind.
“So are you,” I said breathlessly. I wiggled beneath him. “My pussy longs for you, my prince. Please, untie me so I can touch you. And fuck me now.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN: Nick
Tit-fucking Rebecca was amazing. Her big milky jugs were soft and warm her nipples hard and thick like my thumb. I could have shot my load all over her chest, but that was not how an heir was made. When she looked up at me with her beautiful green eyes and begged me to fuck her, I didn’t hesitate for a moment.
I tugged loose her bonds and her arms went around my neck, pulling my lips to hers. Her mouth was warm and wet. She wrapped her lips around my tongue and sucked on it as she had my cock.
I held the kiss as I moved down to position my cock between her thighs. She brought her legs up and wrapped them around my waist. She reached between us and found my cock with her right hand. She milked my cock for a moment and then guided the head toward her pussy hole.
I felt the head of my cock slide inside her. She gasped and pressed her heels into my ass. Her arms went around me and her fingernails dug into my back. I slid inside her until I couldn’t fit another inch, and then I pulled out and slid in again. It didn’t take long for us to establish a rhythm. She drew me into her with her heels on my ass and I withdrew from her until the head was just at her opening, and then I would plunge in again.
“Faster,” she moaned in my ear. “Fuck me hard, faster… Fuck me, my prince…fuck me…”
I nearly came just hearing her moan in my ear. I didn’t miss a beat as I straightened my back and pulled her legs from around my waist. I brought her legs up to rest against my chest with her calves at my ears. I could get inside her deeper now. With each thrust of my cock, she moaned my name.
“I’m…coming…oh my god…Nick…I’m...”
I held on tight to her legs and increased the momentum, slamming my cock into her as hard as I could. Our skin slapped together with each thrust. The air in the tiny room was filled with the tangy scent of sex. I felt every muscle in my body tighten.
“I’m coming…” I said, struggling to keep the pace. She lifted her ass off the bed and pushed it into me.
“Me too…” she said. “Oh my god…my prince…”
We came together and didn’t stop until neither of us could catch our breath. I fell to the bed next to her and she rolled into my arms.
I could feel her head on my chest. Her breath teased my nipple. Her fingers played with my chest hair. When I opened my eyes, she was smiling up at me.
“What is it?” I asked.
She said, “If that’s what it feels like to be kidnapped by a prince, I’d love for you to kidnap me again.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN: Rebecca
Nick and I made love several more times before finally falling asleep in each other’s arms. It was cold in the room when I awoke just after dawn, but huddled together naked under the covers, I’d slept like a cozy bug in a cozy rug.
Nick continued to doze as I eased out of bed and reached for my robe. I stuck my feet into a pair of fuzzy slippers and went to the window to peer out.
The world outside my window was blanketed with a beautiful white layer of snow. I knew the roads would be impassible for a few hours, but this was Snowcap. Snow didn’t slow us down any more than the sun or rain did. Old Carl would have the roads cleared off in no time, and I’d have customers wanting beer and burgers by the afternoon. With any luck, Nick would be able to make it to the Overlook Lodge by lunchtime to attend what was left of the economic summit.
I crept into the bathroom to pee and then went into the living room to light the heater so the apartment would warm up. I made a pot of coffee and dropped a couple of Pop-Tarts in the toaster. I was sitting at the table nibbling on the last Pop-Tart when Nick stumbled out of the bedroom wrapped only in a quilt.
“Good morning, your highness,” I said with a smile as he leaned down to kiss my cheek. “There’s coffee in the pot and I’ll share my Pop-Tart with you. Did you sleep well?”
“I did,” he said with a yawn. He clutched the blanket around his shoulders as he filled a cup with coffee and carried it to the table. He slid into the chair across from me and frowned at the Pop-Tart in my hand.
“What is a Pop-Tart?” he asked.
“You’ve got to be kidding,” I said, holding it out so he could take a bite. “It’s just the best breakfast pastry ever.”
“I’m not sure about that,” he said, making a face. “I believe the croissants at the Café De La Rue in Paris might be just a tad better.”
“Such a snob,” I said, grinning as I ate the rest of the Pop-Tart. I nodded at the window. “The storm’s over. Carl will have the roads cleared by noon.”
“Ah, very good,” he said. He brought the cup to his lips and took a noisy slurp. “So, I can make it to the summit this afternoon, then come back here tomorrow night, and we can leave for Kosnovia on Monday.”
I blinked at him for a moment as the Pop-Tart threatened to come back up. I licked the crumbs off my lips and said, “Leave for Kosnovia?’
“Yes, of course,” he said with a happy smile. “You can pack while I’m at the summit. Take only what you don’t want to leave behind, because I will buy you anything you need once we are home.”
“Home?”
“Yes, in Kosnovia. I’ll call the travel office and have them book two first-class tickets to Kosnovia for Monday afternoon.” He noticed the frown on my face. He reached out a hand across the table. “What is it?”
“You’re serious?” I said, staring at his hand. “You really are serious?”
His forehead wrinkled over his brown eyes. “Yes, of course. I thought we had decided to marry and have a family. We have to do that in Kosnovia.”
“I thought…”
He pulled back his hand and tucked it inside the blanket. “You thought what?”
I shrugged and rolled my eyes. “I thought we were just, like, I don’t know, role playing or something.”
He looked at me as if he didn’t know the meaning of the words. “R
ole playing?”
“Yes. You know, you’re a handsome prince and I’m the damsel in distress, trapped in this ice palace. You come along to save me…” I gazed into his eyes and realized at that moment that this wasn’t a game to him. This was all very real. Holy. Fucking. Shit.
“I was not role playing, Rebecca,” he said, raising his chin and looking proudly down his nose at me. “I am Nikolay Rostov, crown prince of Kosnovia.” He paused and tilted his head to the side. “Rebecca, don’t you believe me?”
“Well, I mean, I believe your name is Nick and you sound a little like you come from Russia, but…” I swallowed hard when I noticed the hurt in his eyes. “Oh my god, you really are serious, aren’t you?”
“I am completely serious,” he said sternly. The muscles in his jaws pulsed. “And I thought you were serious, too.”
I threw up my hands and shook my head at him. “My god, Nick, we just met. We haven’t known each other twenty-four hours. Yes, we had great sex and I find you incredibly attractive and I like you a lot, and maybe someday I might want to marry you and start a family, but not now. I barely know you.”
“We would get to know each other in Kosnovia,” he said. His face was growing red. His Russian accent grew thicker the more upset he got.
“But, Nick, I don’t love you.”
The blanket fell off his muscular shoulders when he shrugged. “I don’t love you either. We will come to love one another, like my mother and father, and my grandmother and my grandfather, and—”
“I get the idea,” I said, holding up my hands. “Nick, I’m sorry, but I can’t marry you and move to Kosnovia. And I’m certainly not ready to have a child. Not with you or anyone.”
“I see,” he said. He studied the tabletop between us for a moment. “I will use your shower once more if you don’t mind to wash off the stain of our night together, and then I will get dressed and wait downstairs for the roads to clear.”
“You can wait up here,” I said, a little hurt that he’d used the word “stain” to refer to the amazing night we’d just spent making love. I gritted my teeth and forced myself not to cry. “It’s cold down there.”
