Chapter 2

Chapter 2

RYKER

I haven't seen a woman like Brynn before. Hot, calculating, and seductive. The woman knows how to charm the pants off of anyone. She smiles, and people melt at her feet. She gives them a look, and they are at her beck and call to fulfil all of her wishes. It's sad she comes from a middle-class family. It's not that her means are meagre. She's an independent, self-made woman. It would have been easier for us in the long term if she came from a well-esteemed family. I wish she were an upper-class woman. It might run better with my grandmama. My grandma can tolerate mediocrity in a bloodline, but again, even she has her limits. But if Brynn was a tasteful actress, I have a strong feeling in my gut that my grandmama would have liked her.

Not to mention, my grandma keeps constant tabs on me. And let's not forget my mother. My security details keep updating her about everything that goes on with me. Everybody is in the loop about the things I do. They get informed. They know what's up.

It doesn't matter if I drink a Slurpee, a decaf, a cocktail of amphetamines, or a hooker's p*ssy. The royal family will always find out what I have been up to in my free time. My mum and grandmum get instant updates since they are too keen to know my whereabouts. 

It's nothing new. 

Since the instant they crowned me with the prince title, fifth-in-line to ascend the throne, I became hot property around our St. Frances Dauphin Castle. I had my own security detail since I was a day old. The day I got out of the hospital, the people were after me. The photographers were waiting outside patiently. Knees and bones on the ground, trying to take photos of me. I still have those photos of me lying around along with the Royal Insignia in my grandma's lair or maybe somewhere.

Grandmum loves her photo and film collection. She's a sucker for those old-film black and white photographs and tapes. She had a library handed over to her by her then-royal parents when she was ten. Grandmum had lots of fun clicking and creating photos, collecting and developing them, and immortalising the memories in those pictures. She gets on that stuff.

Once, she mentioned to me in passing when I had a weekend appointment with her to sip tea in the royal backhouse gardens that she would be okay if I dated a reputable actress and decided to settle down with her. Her words, "If she's responsible enough to do respectful films, I might like her, Ryker. I know your taste in women."

Responsible enough! 

Hah! 

What does she mean by that? 

I still don't know.

I didn't want to offend her by raising a question when she was busy giving me a write-off to bring someone mediocre into the family tree.

I said, "I'm only thirty-four, grandma. Leave me alone!" and then I proceeded to sip my seeped Darjeeling tea with a splash of milk and a bit of sugar. "I'm not looking for marriage yet! I still have to sow my wild oats everywhere."

None of us is getting any younger, but it must suck to be eighty-five with your back stuck in the grave.

"When I was your age," my grandma continued, "I've had all of my five children." She blew over her bland Earl Grey tea by making her mouth in an 'O,' and then she sipped it slowly, taking her time. "I feel like you kids nowadays have too many civil liberties. It was better in our time. I'm trying to be generous, but it seems you can't see it."

"I can see the propaganda with great clarity, your Highness." I drank the entire cup of tea in a large swig as I grabbed my table napkin off from my lap. Then I folded it into a triangle, putting it gently away on the tray. "I might take my leave for a few months. I won't be available for a while, grand mère."

"Where are you off to, son?"

"On a journey of introspection."

"Will your introspection take you all around Europe?" She took the last sip of her tea and showed me her perfectly shaped white teeth breaking into a small smile. "How long will you be gone, mein Sohn?"

"Might be six to eight months." I got up and tipped my hat at her, and then bent down to do a proper curtsey. "I will be back before you know it."

My grandmother got up and sprawled her hands out in the wind for me to hug her. I gave her a quick cuddle, my head resting over her pink and yellow hat. "Don't worry too much about me."

"One who knows about what their family is like would always care about them." My grandma gives me a chuckle. "I will know what you are up to, anyway. Keep Russell close to yourself wherever you go. He's there to protect you."

"Okay."

"Bon journée, son."

That day, that evening, I hoped I could bring Brynn along to introduce her to my grandmum. I had a feeling she would've liked her much more than the tasteful actresses she talked about.

***

Now, I stand here staring down at Brynn's ample cleavage, marvelling at the size of her bounty. I have this sudden urge to caress and reshape her swollen breasts. How heaving and beautiful they were when they did all those hops while she was trying to escape our house guests? When they say God took time in shaping a woman's beautiful body, I believe he spent a lot of time holding and reshaping these lovely assets with satisfaction. It's no utter coincidence that a woman's bosom can excite such pure passion, love, and lust all simultaneously. I stare at them in awe, wonder-struck at their beauty.

"They are so beautiful." I moan in a slow, gruff voice, wishing I could've fondled them if we were not in public. "They are so cute."

"Aren't they?" Brynn gets up from squatting down on the black marble floor, petting one of my Aunt Cecilia's twin corgis. Brynn keeps rubbing the spot behind the dog's ear, and the puppy lets out a satisfied moan. Brynn gets one of them in her arm while the other one cowers at a safe distance, fearing anyone's presence. She holds the puppy close to her chest. "Do you think I should get one?"

"Do you want to?" I hide the illicit thoughts making rounds in my head behind a small smile. "If you like them so much, why not?"

"I think I might." She plays with the puppy, and the puppy puts his little paw on her left breast. "Maybe, I should. It gets pretty lonely back in my apartment at night."

That's a private space, buddy.

"Do you even like dogs?" I fold my hands across my chest as the black fabric of my two-piece suit rides up at my wrists and tightens around the upper back area. "You never said anything about liking dogs to me."

Who's buying my clothes for me again?

"I like them enough." She twists her tongue in her mouth and chuckles. "Would you like to pet the cute guy?"

"Why not?" I say in a charming voice. I behave myself, but the knuckle of my fingers slightly touches the end of her nipples while rubbing the ear spot of the sweet pup. And for a second there in time, I can see her stop and seize all movement in action. I could feel her stifle a breath. "He's so cute."

So, it does work. 

I smirk at her reaction. "I think you should definitely get a puppy." I get close to her ear and whisper in a soft, vulnerable voice. "You need it."

"It seems like I do."

"Follow me."

She nods at me. 

I stroll in front of her to an abandoned floor which leads to a guest library while she quietly follows behind me. There's a long corridor which curves to the right, stopping before the library, and it's dead silent in the room once we are inside it. I grab her hand with mine, take her inside the library and lock the doors from the inside.

I push her against the door and undo the skirt's zip at the right side of her hip. I place small kisses from her shins all the way to her knees, and then I put my thumbs inside her skirt and flick it, and in an instant, I'm inside the netting of her skirt. I kiss her inner thighs, and I can feel her thighs curl at my touch around my head. Both of her hands rest on the top of my moppy head, and she softly plays with my hair as I lay kisses up to the sweet origin.

I insert a finger, slowly caressing her mound with her underwear on, and I can feel her shiver from my touch. I try to rub the spot close to her clit, and she moans loudly in anticipation. I grab the edge of her golden g-string with my teeth and slowly pull it down just above her thighs. The sweet scent of her moist folds brings me in. I place wet kisses on the lips between her thighs. Then I put a curved finger after covering it with my spit down softly inside her core, making her hips tingle and pulsate with pleasure. Her fingers around my hair grip it with excitement about what's to come.

I get my other index finger to find her clit and slowly circle the area around it as I softly pulsate my finger inside her, taking my time. I proceed to slowly push a second finger in and out a couple of times in a rhythm that caves her walls in and out. I twist my two fingers in a curved half-moon circle and rub it inside her till she's gasping for breath. It seems to hit a proper spot for her as she writhes in pleasure and her body shakes from the waves of the incoming orgasm. 

After a quick moment, I replace the fingers with my tongue. I take a deep sweep of her centre as if I'm licking the world's sweetest ice cream. I let my tongue go around in circles, and I feel her grip loosen around my hair, and she moves her fingers down the back of my neck.

Am I doing something wrong?

I pull my head out of her skirt for a minute and then try to find her face in the darkness of the library room. When my eyes land on her face, I can see a soft gasp hanging in the air. She has parted her lips as if she's begging for more. I can see her eyes close, waiting for her sweet release. I grin as I get back into what I was doing to give her the most pleasure I can.

Smiling, I push my long masculine fingers inside her core to weave the magic. I start to build up the pressure again by curving my fingers inside her softness and bringing them in and out in quick succession. I put my mouth in there again after her orgasm has built, kissing her moist lips, licking her, putting my tongue inside her centre, caressing her inner walls, and I go at it with a rhythm that I know she likes, and she's fond of.

I want to satisfy her. I love that dazed look on her face after she has come. I want to see that look on her face again and again.

And she somehow always looks more ethereally beautiful after her orgasms.

I build up the pressure slowly, but I start maximising the friction as I give her a minute to catch her breath and feel what's happening to her soft walls. Putting my head between her legs, I hear closely for a succession of gaps that always tell me she's slowly reeling. I kiss her lips again. Then I rub and caress the walls with my tongue, giving her long licks in the upwards direction that gets her going. I keep doing it till I can feel her fingers dig in the back of my neck and soften the grip on my hair.

She exhales loudly as her body begins to shake, and I get outside from the middle of her legs, giving her the last kiss at the sweetness of her core. 

Then, I stand up, throwing my arms around her body while kissing her neck. She kisses my neck right back as she hugs me. I hold her tightly against me as she feels her impending orgasm. I watch her open her mouth and then close it like a fish. I put my fingers down into her sweet core again while holding her tightly in my arms to finish the job. A couple more pulls and tugs, and her eyes are wide as saucers. Her mouth is agape, and she's groaning with pleasure.

"Oh. My. God," she says.

I inch down with my fingers, removing the excess wavy hair lying on her chest and fondling her full, round breasts as they rub against my muscular arms. I place a kiss on both of them and caress them for a bit. I know she loves the gesture, and it somehow makes her feel loved. I massage them for a bit as I place a kiss on the bottom of her ear.

"Did you like it?"

"Yeah." She's still reeling from the orgasm, but she puts her eyes on my face and cups my rough jaw with her loose hand as she gives me a long, deep kiss. "I didn't want you to stop."

"You didn't say anything, mon amour."

"I couldn't find the words." She licks her lips as she realises my hands are massaging her breasts again. "You know I can't talk when you do this." She whimpers against me. "You're getting me all hot and heavy again."

"If you ever want me to stop, you can say it." I use my gruff voice against her ear again. "Do you?"

"Non." She purses her lips. "Never."

"That does it." I pick her up by the thighs as she wraps her legs around my hips. I rub myself against her, kissing her passionately against the flat stone wall and massage her aching big breasts till we are both out of breath. I gently put her down after I'm done kissing her. I run my hand down her skirt to fix her underwear back to her hips and pull up the zipper of the long skirt back to her waist. "I think maybe we should get back to the party."

"We should," she says, her voice low, as she follows me quietly out of the library. "We have to if we don't want to get caught."