Prince's Dirty Little Secret (A Royal Secret Baby Romance) (10 page)

We return to the car. He orders the driver to head twenty miles west and to stop at the first village we come to after that.

The next village is in even greater squalor than Lampara. This one used to have running water, but the main pipe burst a few years ago. Now, the streets are lined with trash, and the river runs brown with sewage. The entire village smells like a latrine in the midday heat.

The sun beats down overhead, and although I don't have a watch, I guess that it must be noon by now.

When we get back in the car, Nikolai's mouth is a grim line, and he looks green. "You alright?" I ask him. I've never seen him look so affected by anything. He was so fucking out of touch that it only took a morning-long tour of a couple villages to see just how bad things are in his country.

He pulls a handkerchief out of his pocket and wipes the sweat off his face. The interior of the car smell like the sewage outside.

He raps on the glass partition again, and the driver lowers it. "My prince?"

"How long is the drive to the south?"

"Five hours. Four, at best."

Nikolai looks at me, and there is a distance in his eyes. "Take us there," he says. "To the work camps."

The drive passes in near silence, and Nikolai spends most of it looking out the window at the wild, undeveloped country.

"This is nothing like Caprion," he says.

As we get further and further south, the outside looks cooler. I roll down my window, and the air is frigid now, not hot. We drive further, and the air turns freezing. The potholed road is lined on either side by dead trees, their leaves unable to sprout in the cold, perpetual winter of the Molvanian south.

Eventually, we arrive outside the perimeter of a huge compound. It's surrounded by a tall, barbed wire fence, and all I can see inside are rows of dilapidated barracks. It looks like a run-down prison.

Nikolai's face is grimmer than I've ever seen it. "Stay here," he tells me. "I'll be back."

I sit in the car anxiously. I try to judge how much time has passed, but eventually I lose track. The driver keeps the car running with the heat on full blast, but it's barely enough to heat the interior.

Just as the sun is starting to set, Nikolai emerges from the barbed wire fence. The usual swagger in his step is missing and he looks deflated.

He walks around to the door. When the driver rushes to get out and open it for him, he dismisses the driver with a wave.

He opens the door himself and gets in the backseat with me.

He's white like a ghost.

The driver rolls down the partition to receive his next instructions.

"Take us home," says Nikolai. "I've seen enough."

Part of me wants to grill him about what he saw, to tell him "I told you so!" But I know it's not necessary. The look on his face says it all.

We ride in silence, and eventually he extends his hand and taps my arm, absent-mindlessly looking out the window.

I hold his hand, and he holds mine back.

D
ARKNESS HAS FALLEN
by the time we return to the palace grounds. My stomach gnaws at me, and even though I know I should eat, I don't feel like it. I've lost my appetite.

As Nikolai exits the car, he leans over to me and says, "Follow me to my quarters."

I do as he says. He navigates the marble maze effortlessly, the entire network mapped out in his mind from a lifetime of living in the palace.

We get to his quarters, and after the guards let us in, he shuts the door and locks both deadbolts.

"In here." He walks to the closet and shoves aside a bunch of coats on coat hangers.

On the rear closet wall, behind the coats, there's a small door about four feet tall.

He crouches down, tugs the door open by its handle, and ducks inside. I follow him.

Inside, the space opens up into a small room. He reaches up and tugs a chain hanging from the roof. A single light bulb comes on. There's nothing in here except for a desk and chair… and a hulking black assault rifle leaning up against one corner of the room. A stack of loaded magazines lays next to it.

Nikolai shoves the door closed again, then sees me eyeing the rifle nervously.

"Don't worry about that. Just in case."

"What is this place?"

"A place where we can be absolutely sure that no one's listening."

"I thought no one was listening when I was on the phone in your study?"

"Well. I don't believe there was," he says. "But in here is safest."

I nod. This must be serious.

Nikolai looks stressed out. He's as haggard as I've ever seen him, and although it could just be me, it seems like the lines on his forehead have gotten a little deeper just since this morning.

But even when he looks terrible, he looks absolutely gorgeous compared to everyone else.

He rubs his temples.

"Well?" I say. "Did that prove it to you?"

"I had no idea..." he says, his voice trailing off. "No idea about the true conditions."

"But you did know. You said so yourself."

He nods slowly, contemplating. "It wasn't real to me then. It is now. You have opened my eyes, my little pet."

I silently celebrate the words coming out of his mouth. For him to admit he was wrong, suggests that he is a very wise man after all.

A very wise, and a very sexy man.

I step toward him and put my arms around his neck. For the first time, I feel truly safe doing it. "So what are you going to do about this?" I ask, looking up into his eyes.

He sighs, squeezing his eyes shut, deep in thought. "I don't know," he finally says, opening his eyes again. I notice that in here, they both look green, instead of two different hues. "It's my father… the King. He's at the root of this."

I don't say anything. Instead, I wait for him to talk.

"What does a son do about a father like that? What would you do?"

I shake my head. "I don't know." And that's the truth. I really don't. A son against his father…

I run a hand through his thick, dark hair. "How about I take your mind off this for a while?"

He doesn't reply with words. Instead, he reaches down to my ass, lifting me up into the air as if I weigh nothing. He presses me against the wall with a crash—not too hard, but not too gentle either—and his lips find mine.

His tongue presses into my mouth. I part my lips, letting him inside, letting him explore me. He flicks his tongue against mine, and I taste strawberries again. The stubble on his chin scratches me, and I absolutely love it. It's the feeling of pure man against my skin.

He gently sets me down, pinning me to the wall, one hand on either side of my shoulders. He looks into my eyes. "Suck my cock," he says. "Suck my royal cock. That's an order."

I flush with excitement at the thought of taking him inside my mouth. I wonder how his skin will taste, how his seed will feel as it coats my tongue. I want it. Every last drop of it. I can't keep my hands off him any longer.

I drop to my knees and begin to undo the button on his pants, but he swats my hands away. He grabs the fabric with both hands, the muscles popping out and bulging with strength. With one yank, he rips his pants open, the zipper still closed, hanging off to one side uselessly. He hooks his thumb under the waistband of his boxers, and pulls them down over his shaft.

God, his cock is so long and hard. I reach out and brush the back of my fingers over it. It twitches, and I delight in teasing him.

"This is what you do to me, little pet," he says. Feel how fucking hard you make my royal cock."

I squeeze his shaft with my hand, and it barely yields. It is rock fucking hard.

"In your mouth. I command it."

I wrap a second hand around his shaft, and even my two hands, one in front of the other, can't cover its full length.

I bring the tip into my mouth, lapping my tongue over the head, focusing on the sensitive underside. He moans. "Keep doing that," he orders me.

I stick out my tongue and lap the soft underside of his cock like a cat hungry for milk. With each touch of my tongue, I feel him get a little firmer.

A drop of clear pre-cum leaks out of his cock, and I trace the wetness with my tongue. I want it all. It tastes sweet.

"Fuck yeah," he says, "Make me cum. Just like that, babe."

I gently tug up and down on his shaft with my hands, continuing to lap at his cock. Suddenly he groans, and I feel his cock start to pulse.

With each lick, a stream of warm, sweet cum shoots from his cock, coating my tongue, my cheek, the roof of my mouth. God, it feels so dirty just letting him shoot in my mouth like this. I love it, but at the same time, all my instincts tell me to close my mouth around him.

I do, twisting my lips and hands oppositely. More of his seed fills my mouth, and I feel it dripping out from between my lips.

Finally, he begins to relax, and his cock stops throbbing.

I look up at him with puppy dog eyes, knowing he loves the sight of me on my knees.

"Swallow your prince's seed."

I shake my head no.

I do want to swallow it. So badly. But I want to him to make me.

He does. He puts a hand around the back of my neck and squeezes hard. "Swallow," he says through gritted teeth.

I do, and I delight in the feeling. I want him to be part of me.

I wipe my chin with the back of my hand, licking off the rest of the milky white fluid. I never thought I'd do something like that, but god, it actually tastes good.

"Good girl," he says.

I clean off the tip of his cock with my mouth, then tuck it back inside his boxers for him. I stand up and put my arms around his neck.

For some reason, in that moment, I decide to tell him about the baby. I feel like he's proven himself today.

"Hey," I say. "There's something you should know."

He raises an eyebrow. "What's that?"

I tell him, and wait for his reaction.

CHAPTER 7

^"
W
hat did you say?"

"I had a baby. Nine months after I left."

He paces back and forth in the small room, letting my words sink in.

He swings his head toward me. "How do you know it's ours?"

"There was no one before you. For a long time. And no one after you at all."

"You are certain?"

"A hundred percent." I watch him nervously, waiting to see how he'll react.

He frowns. "Why did you not tell me this before?"

"You fucking kidnapped me away from my home. I wouldn't do anything to put my son in danger."

"You think I am a danger?" he says, his voice rising. He balls up his fists by his sides, the veins in his hand popping out. He definitely has a temper.

"No," I say, picking my words carefully. "I just had to be... careful. Had to see whether you would make good on your promise to help your people. I had to know what kind of man you are."

His face is shocked, surprised I am questioning his integrity. But I feel completely justified. What woman would bring her child around a man who breaks his promises?

"And?"

"So far, you're proving you are. That's why I'm telling you this now."

He paces back and forth in the tiny room.

Then, he looks at me and his face lights up with happiness. It's like a neighborhood of Christmas lights coming on all at once. It's like nothing I've ever seen from him before. His happiness is contagious.

He seizes me in a bear hug. "My little pet!" he exclaims. He steps back and looks at me, his hands on my shoulders. "You are the mother of my child."

I nod, and although I still feel nervous about bringing the baby here, I can't help but crack a grin.

"You," he says, shaking his head in disbelief. "This is incredible. A boy or girl?"

"A boy. Are you happy?"

"I have never heard better news in my life," he says with a grin. "What did you name him?"

"Josh."

He nods his head. "A good biblical name."

"Yes."

"We must bring him here at once." I can see the gears start to turn in Nikolai's head.

"No. Not yet," I say. I replay in my mind the scene of the two men breaking into my apartment. I don't want them anywhere near my child.

Nikolai grits his teeth. "You tell me I have a son, and now you wish to keep him from me?"

"I won't let you send your cronies to take my son like you took me," I say. "You have to do it my way."

"What is your way?"

"No traumatizing events. No men in black suits. No cargo planes."

"If he's truly my son, a bumpy plane ride won't harm him."

I almost chuckle at his logic. Almost.

"My way. Or I don't tell you where he is. Send a woman. Send Marcha."

"
Our
son," he corrects me. "You think you have sole authority over this child?"

"No, I don't think that. But you weren't here for me when he was born." Just thinking about it makes me mad. All the sleepless nights in my shitty new studio apartment. My lost job. All the spaghettios.

"Jenna," he says, stepping toward me and taking my hands in his. "I let you go because I wished to do right by you. I tried to give you what you wanted."

"Whatever." I frown. I can't bring myself to forgive him for that. Not yet, at least. "You can bring our baby," I say. "But you have to order your men to be gentle. And you have to send Marcha with them."

He stops pacing and sits down. "Very well. Alright. It will take a while, then. Ten days, maybe. We have to go slow, be careful."

I nod. "Safety first. Our son can't protect himself like you can. Yet."

T
HE MEN LEAVE
with Marcha the next day, and the following week passes slowly. I try to sleep the days away. I don't see much of Nikolai, who's busy with a corruption probe into the Caprion mayor's finances.

In the middle of the eighth night, Nikolai comes to me in my quarters. He gently shakes me awake and his face is the first thing I see when I open my eyes. He's freshly shaved and showered and his damp hair is tussled on his head. Goddamn, he's sexy.

"My little pet, I had to tell you the news. The baby is safely in North Molvania with my people. They'll arrive in the morning."