Coup D'etat (The Alpha Prince) Book 3 (6 page)

“You have probably heard about some of the divisive comments made about my relationship with my girl,” Prince Julian says.

“I certainly have, Your Highness. Royal romance stories sell well in European papers.”


“It has gone beyond that.”

“How far?” Carole asks.



“There is a conspiracy to undermine the Principality.”

All of a sudden, this old lady becomes dead serious. The look on her face tells me that this eighty-something year old woman is more than just a shop owner.

“I am at your service, Prince Julian.”



“It is my intention to confront those who wish to move against me. I am confident that this matter will be settled before Midnight. However, I believe it is time to show Amy the Tunnel.”

The old lady looks at me. She looks right into my eyes. It scares me. Carole stands up and closes the door to the tiny office. She walks over to a tall wooden bookcase stacked with coffee cans. She reaches back and presses a rear panel on the bookcase. The entire wall begins to slide to the left revealing a six foot tall tunnel. My jaw drops.

“This three point five kilometer tunnel leads into France - the village of La Turbie to be specific,” Carole says as she takes my hand and leads me into the tunnel. “We keep a mercenary group at La Turbie ready to assist the Prince. If something happens in Mondorra, this will be your only safe passage out of the Principality. Do you understand?” Carole asks me.



“Yes.”

“If you should meet anyone inside the tunnel - or at its entrances - they should give you the codeword ‘Gabriel.’ If you do not get that code word, you shoot or stab that person until they die,” the elderly woman explains as she removes a brick from the side of the tunnel. Carole pulls out a handgun and a twelve inch dagger. “At approximately every four hundred meters is a stash of weapons hidden behind a brick with a distinct crack down the middle,” Carole says as she shows me the brick.

The Prince puts his hand on my shoulder. “We should be fine tonight,” my lover says to me softly. “But you should know about this - just in case.” All three of us walk back out of the tunnel. There is a sense of real shock running through my body. As the Prince walks back into the office, Carole pulls on my arm and whispers into my ear. “The Prince has dated many women. But you are the first to be shown the Tunnel.”

I let that sentence really sink into my head. This tunnel. It is possibly the biggest secret kept in the Principality of Mondorra. If something goes horribly wrong, this tunnel may be the only escape to safety. Indeed, the Prince is trusting me with his life in sharing this place. And I am the only girl who has ever been privy to such information. I know now that the Prince has deepened his bond with me. I must entrust my life to him. Who knows what shall unfold tonight.

During the car ride back to the Palace, Prince Julian is unusually silent. He seems deep in thought about the dinner. I do not what to disturb him. Though I want to share my appreciation for sharing the secret about the tunnel. As the Palace comes into view, the Prince looks over at me and grabs my hand. “Tonight will be exciting. You are the last one in the room who should feel any trepidation. The guest will be in the hot seat,” the Prince explains to me.

“Thank you, Your Highness. That makes me feel more comfortable.”

“I am counting on your being comfortable to make our guests uncomfortable.”

***

We get back inside the Palace in the late afternoon. The Prince confers with his Intelligence Minister. “All invited guests have confirmed that they shall be attending this evening,” the Minister says to the delighted Prince.


“Excellent. Everything is set for 9:00 p.m. this evening.”

“Very good, Your Highness. Shall I have anything else prepared for the evening?”

“Keep your men close by. I intend to find out who sent the bribe to Amy before the strike of Midnight.”

“And what do you have planned for the traitor?”

“Oh, I do not wish to give away anything yet,” the Prince says.

Damn, I was hoping he would say something. I have to know what he has planned!

***

8:00 p.m. It is time to prepare for the dinner. I look inside the massive closet filled with designer dressed imported from Paris. I am sure the Prince will be dressed in a stately manner. And I would like to ensure that my appearance does not discount his stature. I look for the most regal design fit for the escort of a Prince. Out of the corner of my eye, I find an impressive white dress with gold and silver trim and a long flowing skirt. Yes, this will most certainly do.

I place the dress on my body. Then I look for the perfect pair of shoes to complete the outfit. The closet has towers, I kid you not, towers of shoe boxes from various design houses. My eye catches the distinct Chanel boxes. There is something about the name Chanel. That is stylish and grown-up. That’s how I would like to appear for my Prince - stylish and grown-up. I open box after box until I find a pair of white heels which makes the perfect match to my dress. I put on the heels and walk over to a full length mirror.

Wow. I don’t even look like myself. I look like
royalty.
I am so impressed with my appearance that I scamper into the bathroom, where the Prince is preparing himself for the evening’s activities. “Your Highness, what do you think?” I say as I beam from ear to ear. The Prince turns around and looks me up and down.

“That is a lovely dress and you look stunning.”

“Thank you, Prince Julian,” I say proudly.

“However, it is not right for this evening.”

“I want the guests to be impressed with my presence.”

“Don’t dress for them. Dress for me.”

At first I am confused. And then I get it. He doesn’t want the guest to be comfortable. He wants me to be comfortable. And he wants me to dress for him. I run back into the bedroom closet and strip off the fancy white dress.

I look for something tight and sexy. Something that I can slip on and feel comfortable. A sort of a second skin that will make me look and feel naked at the party. Then I find it - a little black dress with teeny-tiny spaghetti straps. It’s the kind of dress you would more likely find in a Miami Beach nightclub than a European Palace. I place the dress on my body and walk to the mirror. Oh yes, this shall work. The plunging neckline shows off my cleavage. I turn around and notice that my ass is perfectly display in the skirt that rises half-way up my thighs.

I spin around and notice that the little black dress flicks up to reveal my tiny white thong. Oh yes, this will be perfect for my Prince. I skip back into the bathroom. The Prince instantly turns his head and says, “That is exactly what I am talking about.”

“This is more to your suiting, Your Highness.”

“Indeed.”

I do the little spin move. My skirt flicks up. The Prince looks at me and licks his lips.

“Do that again,” he commands.

I do my little spin move. Before I can finish, I am tackled and pushed down to the tiled floor of the bathroom.

The Prince spreads my legs. He goes right for my ass. I feel my thong come down around to my ankles. He pulls that little thong off of my body and dives right into my ass. I feel his lips, his tongue and his mouth all over every single inch of my ass. He claws my apple bottom butt with his strong hands. For good measure, the Prince pulls on my hair and while he licks my ass at full speed.

Prince Julian lifts his head up. I can hear his clothing come off. “You little minx. You don’t know what you do to me.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“At this rate, I will never get ready for dinner.”

I don’t answer him verbally. I just wiggle my ass at him. He spanks me hard. “Oh, you are a bad, bad little girl.”

The Prince lies on top of me. I can feel his hard dick up against my ass cheeks. He begins to dry hump my butt while biting into my shoulder. My master’s saliva slobbers around my neck and my shoulders as he grunts and humps to his heart’s content.

The Prince pulls me up. He lies on his back. He orders me to, “sit on my cock and make sure your ass is facing me.”

“Yes, Prince Julian.”

I get right on top of my lover’s dick and slowly lower myself into him. I feel that thick cock fill me up. Then I sit up and begin to slowly rotate my hips. It’s enough to make the Prince moan out in joy while clawing my ass with his fingernails.

I start to slowly hop up and down on that dick. I look back at my royal lover who is gritting his teeth like a man who is trying his best not to cum. That only makes me ride his cock harder and faster.

“Oh fuck!” Prince Julian moans as I ride my lover’s large dick. I play with my hard nipples as I feel my body ready to reach its climax. The Prince leans up and bites my ear as he starts to pump away at my pussy.

We fuck faster and faster. The Prince grabs my tits and drives his dick deep into me. I scream. He yells. We cum. Together, our bodies fall down onto the cool tile floor of the Prince’s bathroom.

Our post-orgasmic fatigue does not last long. We hop into the shower and clean off each other’s sweat. Then we get ourselves dressed and head out into the bedroom. The Prince walks me to the mirror. We stare at each other. The Prince is dressed in a black suit with a blood red sash across his body. I am dressed like a groupie he picked up at a nightclub.

“There is one thing you need to know about this evening. Tonight is not about me. It’s about you,” the Prince says as he runs his hands through my hair. “Some of our guests don’t like you. And they will never respect you. Tonight is not about winning their approval. It’s about openly defying those who wish to tear us apart. Show them who’s in charge around here.” My master’s words could not be any more clear. I am on a mission. I’m ready.

***

The Prince and myself sit out on the balcony and watch the sunset. It’s almost 9:00 p.m. The Mediterranean Summer ensures long days and warm nights. For the Prince, this sunset is the last one he expects to see under the specter of treachery in his Principality. Just as the final sliver of the sun slips into the sea, the palace manager makes his way to the balcony.

“Your Highness, your guests have arrived for the evening,” the palace manager tells the Prince.

“Excellent,” Prince Julian says as he rises to his feet. He extends his hand towards me. It’s a regal and gentlemanly gesture that I find really romantic and powerful. This is a Prince ready for war. Yet, he is gentle and caring towards his young lover. I am smitten!

We walk out of the master bedroom and head towards the grand staircase. We reach the top of the staircase. At the bottom step is a man dressed in a Mondorra uniform. The man silences the whispered conversations of the guests below.

“His Royal Highness, the Prince of Mondorra and his escort Madam Rousessau of the United States,” the man announces to the crowd.

I hear live trumpets boom below. The Prince takes my hand and begins to walk down the stairs. We have done this before. However, the last time we were announced, the crowd below were raucous party goers, ready to embrace the Prince. This time, we are walking towards people who could be planning our demise.

The Prince descends with a grace that most men - and women - could only wish they could master. The royal leader’s posture is impeccable. His eyes pierce through every guest as he reaches the final step. When the Prince reaches the bottom step, every single guest bows their head in reverence. The Prince returns the bow. Then he smiles wide and welcomes the guests with a rather casual declaration, “Excellent to see everyone this evening. I don’t think we’ve done this since New Year’s.”

I look over the crowd. There are about eighteen attendees in all - eight couples and two men. Half of the group appear genuinely happy. The other half of the invited guests look terrified and uncomfortable. From my vantage point, it is rather easy to see who amongst them have been speaking out against the Prince. The royal leader turns his attention to me and says, “I do not think everyone here has been introduced to Madame Rousseau. I hope you can extend her every courtesy,” the Prince says to which every member of the crowd smiles and nods. I can only imagine what some of the more conservative guests think of my short skirt and plunging neckline.