Prince Albert(70)
“Oh, Albie, you’re a darling.” My mother sips her wine and beams at King Leo. “We did decide on a wedding cake.”
“Awesome,” Alexandra says drolly, rolling her eyes. “As much as I’d love to stay and chat, I’m going to London with my friends tomorrow, so I’ll need to pack.”
“Alexandra,” Leo says sharply. “The trip can still be revoked.”
“Great,” she says, tipping back her glass of wine. “Then I’ll sit here and hang out. These family dinners are becoming the highlight of my day.”
A flash of emotion crosses my mother’s face, something akin to embarrassment, and she squeezes Leo’s forearm. “Perhaps she could join us for breakfast in the morning,” she says.
Leo clears his throat. “Fine,” he says, waving at her. “Go. Pack for London.”
Alexandra leaves the table in a huff, and Albie and I exchange glances.
Albie shrugs, looking down at his cell phone like it’s the most interesting thing in the world. My phone is on silent, but I know Albie is texting me. When I glance up at my mother and the king, they’re in their own little world, holding hands and making gooey eyes at each other. My mother looks at him with adoration.
Okay, so maybe I’m starting to be convinced that she does love him, after all.
Excuse yourself from dinner and go to your room.
I text back, trying to be as unobtrusive as possible.
Bossy, much?
I look down again.
I have plans for you that I know you’ll like.
The message sends a rush of heat between my legs. I clear my throat. “I think I’m going to actually skip dinner tonight as well,” I say. “Going to the hospital today was much more tiring than I thought it would be.”
The king looks at Albie, his eyebrows raised. “Et tu, Albert?”
Albie grins, shrugging. “I told some of my friends I’d hang out with them.”
King Leo sighs. “Fine. Off you go, all of you,” he says. “Have fun.”
Back at my room, Martin stands in the hallway, his hands folded in front of him, looking straight ahead at nothing. “Don’t you get bored, doing this?” I ask.
“Of course not, Miss Kensington.” He doesn’t move an inch.
“Well, I’ll be in my room all night,” I say. “I have a headache. I’m going to sleep early.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“You know, just in case you want to get a coffee or take a break.”
“It would be extremely negligent to leave my post, Miss Kensington,” he says, his expression unchanging.
I roll my eyes, opening the door to my bedroom. Albie gets Noah, who flips him off, but I get stuck with the most humorless bodyguard on the security team. I wonder if I can request a new version that comes with a sense of humor.
Albie knocks quietly on the wall by the secret passageway, and I let him in. “Keep your voice down,” I whisper. “Simon is outside.”
“We’re not staying here, anyway,” he says. He sets a leather carryall just inside the room.
“What’s that?”
“Supplies.”
“What kind of supplies?”
A slow smile spreads across Albie’s face. “Greedy little thing, aren’t you?”
I feel myself flush as he walks toward me and slides his finger under my chin, tilting my mouth up to his. When he kisses me, I melt into him, desire rushing through me as he slowly unzips the back of my dress. It falls to the floor at my feet in a puddle of fabric.
Unclasping my bra, he tosses it across the floor and then backs up, appraising me from arm’s length. “Much better.”
“Are you happy now?” I ask.
“Not quite,” he whispers. “We have places to be.”
“You’re undressing me, but we have an agenda?”
Albie steps close to me, running his hands up the middle of my back. His touch makes me shiver, goose bumps dotting my arms. My nipples stand at attention and I press my body against his, craving his touch.
When he walks away from me, uttering a groan under his breath, my body aches for him. “I have something for you,” he says, turning to open his bag.
“Should I be scared?”
He turns, a purple plastic object attached to a harness dangling from his fingers.
“What is that?”
“I want you to wear this,” he says, kneeling at my feet. “I want you to wear this.”
“What is it?”
“A vibrator,” he says, sliding the harness up my legs, his hands brushing lightly along my thighs.
“If you think I’m wearing this to another party, you’re out of your mind,” I protest. But I can’t help the moan that escapes my lips when he reaches my pussy. Before he puts the vibrator on me, he pauses to press his mouth against my clit, rolling his tongue over me.