Prince Albert(42)

“Hurry,” I whisper. “Do it now.”

I don’t say yes. Just hurry. It’s the principle of the thing.

He chuckles, his breath warm on my ear, and I stand motionless with my body pressed against his as he slides the vibrator inside me, aided easily by my wetness. When he finishes, he takes a step back and puts a business-like amount of space between us. It’s just in time, too, as two servers carrying trays bound around the corner and stop sharply in their tracks. "Your Highness," one of the servers says, carefully balancing a tray of champagne flutes while bowing his head.

"Please," Albie says, waving them past us. "I apologize for being in the way."

Once they've walked past us, Albie holds up a small remote. "I like to watch you come," he says, slipping the remote into his tuxedo jacket pocket. "And I want to watch you come in a room filled with every important person in this kingdom."

"You're crazy," I say, except what's crazy is the fact that this is turning me on. "Someone will hear it."

He smiles, reaching inside his pocket, and I feel the vibration inside me. But I hear nothing. "What were you saying?" he asks. "This was especially-made for me. It's not exactly available on the open market. And yes, it's totally silent. So don't worry -- people will have no idea why you're coming all night. Shall we?"

He doesn't wait for a response. He walks ahead of me, out the hallway and toward the ballroom, and I'm left to catch up. I take my steps slowly, carefully, and measured, conscious of the vibrator inside me.

I feel a weird mixture of nervousness and confidence as I walk toward the ballroom, several steps behind Albie. And arousal.

I definitely feel aroused, even with the vibrator turned off.

It’s a delicious secret Albie and I share. One among several secrets.

I push that thought out of my head, squeezing my muscles around the vibrator, assuring myself that it’s not going to slip out and clatter to the floor in the middle of this event.

Now, that would be a scandal.

“Darling.” My mother greets me like I’m the prodigal daughter, arms outstretched, her face beaming. She never calls me darling, but I can’t help but smile anyway. She looks happy. Really happy, like I haven’t seen her in years, and despite our differences, that makes me feel good.

“Mother,” I say, as she draws me in close, giving me two air-kisses. “You look really stunning.”

She’s breathtaking in a cream-colored chiffon evening gown that trails to the floor, a huge diamond statement necklace lying carefully over the scooped neckline of the dress. Her hair is piled on her head, and she wears a small tiara – not the royal crown, which she’ll wear during the wedding, but gorgeous nonetheless.

“Thank you, darling,” she says, smiling. As she pulls me close, she whispers softly. “I know you hate these big social things, but please try your best and I promise I'll make it up to you."

I smile politely, the moment interrupted when King Leopold takes my hand. “Isabella,” he says, his voice warm. “Have I told you how delighted I am that you’ve decided to stay for the summer?”

“I’m honored to be a guest in your home," I say.

Leopold laughs, a deep sound that comes from his belly. “My dear, you’re family,” he says. “Please don’t ever call yourself a guest again.”

“I’ll try to remember that, Your Royal Highness,” I say, bowing my head.

“Albie tells me he showed you around Senijk,” Leopold says, referencing the town where their summer estate is. My mind immediately flashes to exactly what Albie showed me in the village that day – his skill with his fingers.

“I showed her the most important parts of Senijk,” Albie says, beside me, and I avoid looking at him as the vibrator flicks on inside me, low and slow, but the movement surprises me and I yelp.

“Are you okay?” Leopold asks, and I just know my face must be bright red.

“Uh…yes,” I say, coughing to hide my embarrassment. “I just turned my ankle in these heels. I’m afraid I haven’t gotten used to wearing high heels again.”

“I imagine this entire thing is a bit of a shock for you,” Leopold says, as Albie increases the intensity on the vibrator. I look over at him and shoot him the most murderous glare I can muster under the circumstances.

The vibrator is one thing, but turning it on when I’m trying to carry on a conversation with his father is another thing entirely.

A very bad, very warped thing.

“It’s…yes…a shock, I would say.”

“It’s probably difficult to leave someplace that intense,” Albie says, his voice the epitome of professional and measured. Except for the fact that he looks me right in the eye, his expression filled with mischief, and lingers just a little too long on the word intense, turning up the intensity of the vibrator as he speaks.