Page 11 of The Prince and His Bodyguards
“So thereisa prince,” I say in a low voice. “A real prince, from a real country.”
The men nod.
“Yes ma’am. There’s no royalty here in America, but they still exist in Europe.”
I stare at them again.
“So is he going to question me? Beat me up? Or what happens next? I don’t understand why I’m here to begin with.”
Rizza shrugs, his dark eyes gleaming in the low lights.
“That’s up to our liege lord. It’s not for us to say.”
Suddenly, there’s a rustling sound from the shadows and I crane my head to look. A gasp escapes my lips because actually, a man’s been sitting there all along and I didn’t know. Somehow, he was so still and silent that he escaped my notice.
But as my eyes peer into the shadows, the oxygen is sucked my lungs because this must be the prince himself. There’s no question. The man is tall, even while sitting, with black hair, patrician features, and eyes so blue they almost glow in the darkness. But it’s more than his physical stature that gives the impression of royalty. Instead, there’s an aura that surrounds the man speaking of power, charisma, and the expectation of total fealty. He crosses one long leg over the other and then relaxes into his chair while gazing at me.
“I see you’ve met Mizhir and Rizza, as well as Mikael,” he drawls. “Welcome to our world, Alice. Or Ali, I believe you call yourself.”
I sputter even as my cheeks go red, forming a blush that continues down to my breasts.
“How do you know who I am? And what am I doing here? You had me poisoned!”
The prince chuckles deep in his chest.
“We did no such thing. Mikael slipped an anesthetic into your drink, to be sure. But you’re neither dead nor sick. You were just knocked out for a bit. The better to help us maneuver you here.”
I stare at him.
“But where is here? And what do you want with me?”
The man is totally unperturbed as he takes me in with that blue gaze.
“The here doesn’t matter, at least not at this moment. The “what” is much more important, however. I’d like you to be trained,” he says in a simple voice. “By my servants, Mizhir and Rizza. You’ve already intuited their purpose, much the way a sensual woman would. Get the lube,” he commands.
That’s when my senses blaze because this can’t be happening. Every rumor I’ve heard about this prince is turning out to be true.
“You can’t be serious,” I whisper, watching as Rizza fumbles in a nearby bag before reappearing with a huge bottle of clear liquid. Then, Mizhir cranks a winch against the wall, and my arms are loosened somewhat. I’m still standing upright, but the ache in my shoulders subsides a bit.
“Oh, I’m serious,” the prince rasps from the darkness. “Now let’s get started. Prep her, and then take her.”
Rizza strides towards me, and I instinctively shy away.
“What?” I gasp. “No, this can’t be happening.”
“Oh, it’s happening alright,” the muscular man growls. “You heard what the prince said. Mizhir and I will be training your cunt and ass, honey. Putting them to the test, so to say.”
I open my mouth to protest but my words are cut off because at that moment, Rizza lowers his dark head and begins to suckle at one big breast. To my shame, my nipples are already achy and stiff, and my head falls back as my eyes close.
“Ooooh,” I moan. “Mmm!”
“What a slut,” Mizhir groans from my other side. “I knew she’d want it.”
Then, he begins suckling from my other breast and I look down at the hedonistic picture. Holy fuck. I have two men laving my nipples, their dark heads bent as hot jolts of sensation go straight from the hard tips to my cunt. My pussy moistens, already beginning to drip, as I mewl and writhe against the chains.
“You can’t do this!” I cry. “Oh my god, this is insane!”
“Itisinsane,” Rizza rasps, releasing one stiff nipple from his mouth with an audible popping sound. “But this is only the beginning, sweetheart. We haven’t gotten to the real depravity yet.”