Chapter 17

seventeen

REBECCA

R ebecca carefully turned this way and that in the long mirror set up in their sitting room, while Mason looked for any loose beads on her dress. It was a long, glittery, beaded, soft silver dress with a flowing skirt and boatneck that made her seem taller than she was. The dark purple heels—the same shoes she'd gotten married in actually—would also help and put her closer to her husband's height.

Mason nodded. "It looks good from this side. Rose?"

Rebecca's lady's maid pursed her lips. "Just one spot here. The sash will likely hide it, and it's not very noticeable, but we should tighten it up just in case."

Mason grabbed the sewing kit and set to work.

Rebecca gestured to some jewelry they'd set out. The tiara was still in the bedroom where Alex was getting ready, but they'd brought everything else out to the sitting room. "Rose, let's get the jewelry on while Mason finishes that up."

Amethyst—a favorite of Valleria's royals for many centuries—featured heavily in the jewels they'd brought and would look great set against the dress. They'd discussed the best necklace for seemingly hours, but finally settled on a long string of pearls looped a few times, then artfully pinned together on the side with the Lover's broach—a series of diamonds and amethysts twined together to resemble a knot. The broach would also serve to pin her dark purple sash to her dress and secure it in place.

Next came a set of earrings, each of which featured a long string of amethyst and diamond next to each other, and which looked good with her hair partially pulled back, making her neck seem longer.

Alex walked out of the bedroom, his valet and Tavin trailing. He looked sinfully handsome in his white tie suit, a similar purple sash draped across his chest, which was pinned in place by a demure broach signifying his military service.

"Darling, you look amazing." He pressed a barely-there kiss to her lips, careful not to ruin her makeup.

"Thank you. You look deliciously handsome yourself."

He gave her a grin that said ‘I'm going to have my way with you tonight', and she gave him a smile in return that said ‘Not if I have my way with you first'.

She turned back to the mirror as Rose began to add the bracelet and watch—a matching set from a famous designer collaboration she'd arranged, also in diamond and amethyst. Though it was newer, it still looked like it came from the family vaults and matched the other pieces. Rebecca had learned early to wear a watch—a princess could not be seen taking out or looking at her phone, or repeatedly asking people what time it was, so she'd commissioned the pieces not long after she and Alex had wed. It was far easier to feign adjusting the watch on her wrist while actually glancing at the time instead.

"Are Ethan and Anda on their way?" she asked. "Could they come up?"

"They wanted to make an entrance through the main gate," Alex said. "That way they'd already be in the audience when we made our entrance."

She'd known that, of course, but she'd wanted Anda's help going to the bathroom in this dress. She'd done the dress-bathroom thing with Rose and even Mara before, but she knew how awkward it must be for them. Still, there was nothing for it. She wouldn't have a chance to go again for hours. "Rose, before we do the tiara, let's head into the other room for a minute. Is the bedroom empty?"

"Yes, darling."

It took several minutes, mostly because they needed to put the dress back in place. Luckily, with this fabric, it hadn't wrinkled at all.

The tiara was gorgeous—it featured diamond, amethyst, and pearl—and was a favorite of Genevieve's. Rebecca's hair had been arranged to hold it well, and they secured it in place. She tested it by gently shaking and nodding her head, looking down and up, and it stayed in place.

After a last arranging of hair and a final touch-up of makeup, they exited the bedroom. "Rose, could you put the lipstick and powder in my purse? Thank you."

"Ready, darling?"

"Yes, I think so. Let me just do one last check in the mirror. Mason, can you give it a once over? You, too, Mara. Have you sent out the press release about the outfits?"

Mara nodded as she gave the outfit a critical eye. "Yes, Ma'am." She untangled the long earrings from a strand of hair. "I'm worried that may happen all night."

"I'd already expected as much, but I love these earrings. They're so light and I'm wearing so many other heavy things." Rebecca gestured to the dress and tiara.

Alex frowned. "It's going to be a long night. Are you sure you'll be all right? We won't be seated together, so I can't keep an eye on it for you."

"I've dealt with long events before, it will be fine."

"There are five courses, then the reception afterwards."

"Alejandro mentioned he'd been working with his social secretary and the executive chef on the menus. Three different wines, soup, fish, lamb, as well as vegetarian options, salad, and petit fours. I warned him our dinner at the embassy tomorrow will be much less grand in comparison."

In return for hosting the state dinner tonight, she and Alex were hosting a Return Dinner for the president and his husband at the Vallerian embassy, as their last formal engagement in D.C. Tomorrow, she'd actually arranged a day of fun engagements for their family, with tours around various Smithsonian museums, the Museum of African American History and Culture, the National Gallery of Art, and visits to the World War II and Martin Luther King Junior Memorials. There were so many places she'd love to visit—and she'd love to come back during cherry blossom season in the spring—but a princess isn't able to sightsee unless it is part of their duties.

She wished she'd realized that before she'd fallen for Alex, as maybe she would have spent much more time exploring the world instead of hiding from it. Yet, she couldn't be upset things had turned out as they had. Life was about trade-offs after all. She could let go of anonymous sightseeing if it meant she had Alex by her side.

They made their way through the White House and downstairs; she still couldn't believe she was lucky enough to walk through it, much less stay there overnight. Together with the President and First Husband, they posed for pictures on the North Portico, then followed the president into the State Dining Room.

One hundred fifty guests had been invited, and Rebecca recognized many from stage and screen, from American politics and military, and even some business and community leaders. There were, of course, a number of Vallerians as part of the Vallerian delegation for the dinner.

The tables were decadently set—cream Damask tablecloths with beige fleur-de-lis, a symbol of Valleria. The tableware was a mix of pieces from different collections—Singh China, which was ivory with a silver rim and featured a vignette of the White House, flatware from the Obama administration, and crystal, candelabras, and decorations from a collection donated to the White House by a rich heiress in the 18 th century.

Living in a royal palace and having hosted similar dinners with Genevieve, Rebecca understood how much time and effort went into planning a visit and dinner like this. Even choosing which tableware to use could become a political statement if one wasn't careful, but everything looked beautiful and all the pieces worked well together.

It suddenly hit her that she wasn't as fazed by the opulence or lavishness of this life anymore. She was worried about the event, and the cost of the jewelry she was wearing—her nerves would never go away, she was sure—but growing up very differently as a non-royal meant she'd been ‘wide-eyed' at everything when she and Alex had first gotten together.

Now, though…this was simply her life, and she wasn't sure how she felt about that. She would be Queen soon—Queen!—and it seemed that more of her had changed than she realized. Was it a good thing to adjust? Or a bad thing to let go of the life she once knew? Maybe it wasn't about good or bad at all, and it was simply…life. She'd have to think on this more another time, when they weren't about to lead such an important event.

She gave Alex's hand a final squeeze before she was escorted to a table and seated next to Alejandro. Glancing around the room, she spotted Ethan and Anda at separate tables nearby as well. They'd be joining them on their sightseeing events tomorrow, which was good as they hadn't had a chance to really connect in person yet. She knew Alex was still concerned about a possible threat, but she was taking things one minute at a time.

After some remarks from the president, then Alex, both affirming their long relationship and continuing partnership, dinner was served. Rebecca didn't mind her dinner companions—Alejandro, a famous acting couple, a congressperson, and someone who Rebecca thought may have been some high-level donors to the president's campaign .

For a long time, Rebecca had worried about dinners like these, about saying or doing the wrong thing, making the wrong step. As a woman, she was always scrutinized more than Alex. Yet she realized eventually that the conversations were nearly always the same. Though she might come across someone who asked more probing questions—which she'd learned to deflect—most of the time, the exchanges were superficial at best. A trick she'd learned from Genevieve was to always keep the focus on someone else—people loved talking about themselves—or to deflect serious questions by asking what another person at the table thought about it instead. Royals were rarely one-on-one with people—it was nearly always a group setting or event—so it was easily done.

Following the dinner was a reception in the East Room, and she heard two famous opera singers cover the Flower Duet , one of her favorites. She hadn't really listened to opera before Alex, but had fallen in love with it after seeing her first performance of Don Giovanni at the Valentia Opera House.

After the reception, she and Alex walked slowly back to their room, protection agents and U.S. Secret Service trailing. Once they were finally secure in their room, Alex locked the door, then turned to her with a specific, seductive smile.

"Finally, I have you all to myself." He stepped towards her, and slid his hands around her hips to her ass.

He kissed her, slowly, softly at first, while he pressed her body against his.

She slid her hands into his hair and gripped, trying to hold on while he claimed her with his mouth.

Eventually she leaned back and pressed a hand to her tiara. "I'll need to take this off before we go any further. It's slipping." While she had tested the tiara earlier, she hadn't tested it for Alex's kisses.

"I'll do it. Unless you want Rose to come?"

She shook her head. "Just be careful."

He gave her a bemused smile. "I am a prince, you know."

"I know. "

"And a future king."

"Sure."

"I have worn a crown or two myself."

"Exactly. You're so used to the crown jewels that you treat them the same as your watch or handkerchief or shoes. Whereas Rose and I have a healthy fear of any harm coming to them—especially me, since I'd be blamed for it, regardless of who was actually responsible, even you."

Alex seemed annoyed but didn't contradict her. "Sit down, darling."

She held back a smile, then seated herself at a small desk. They'd put on her makeup here earlier, but that had all been cleared and the velvet jewelry cases sat there now beside a specially lighted mirror they'd brought from home.

While Alex unpinned the tiara, she got to work removing the broach, earrings, bracelet, and watch. Once Alex had safely tucked the tiara into its case and closed it, she removed her necklace and sash.

Alex had started taking off his own décor and sash, so she continued and removed the pins from her hair. It felt hard in places they'd used spray to stiffen it to hold the tiara better, but it didn't look too bad. She brushed it out for now, knowing a full shower could wait until morning.

Rebecca stood and undid his cufflinks, and he unzipped her dress and helped her step out of it.

"Oh fuck. Were you really wearing that underneath your dress all night?"

She was wearing a white bustier and panties with matching garters but sheer stockings. The dress fabric had been thick and lined, so nothing could be seen through it, even in outline, and she'd wanted to surprise Alex.

She turned slowly. "Do you like it?"

His hands reached out, then he stepped back. "If I reach for you now, I'll fuck you hard, fully clothed over that famously old desk. And I want you in bed."

She stepped close to him, then trailed a finger down his clothed chest. "I'll just take my makeup off then, shall I? You can finish undressing in the meantime."

His voice was a low growl. "Rebecca…"

She winked at him, then headed for the bathroom, hearing him curse under his breath.

Several minutes later, she was leaving the bathroom when he grabbed her arm and pulled her flush against his naked body.

He buried his nose in neck and inhaled deeply. "I love the way you smell. Almost every time I smell lavender, I get hard, you know."

"Really?" Even now, years in, she was still learning new things about her husband. New ways he loved her, new expressions or mannerisms or a different tone of voice she hadn't heard before.

"I said ‘almost'. Sometimes the scent calms me, sometimes it fuels me, always it comforts me."

She frowned and caressed his soft, black hair. "Do you need comforting tonight, Alex?"

He held her tighter and sighed. "I don't know."

That meant ‘yes' but he didn't want to admit it. He still thought confessing to such things made him weak. "Lie down on the bed."

He raised his head and smiled. "What?"

She lifted onto the toes of her shoes and stopped her lips a breath away from his. "I'm going to have my way with you tonight, Prince-slash-future-king Alexander."

He sucked in a breath, then started walking backwards towards the bed. Once he hit it, he sat.

"Lie back." She ran a hand down his chest to his semi-erect cock and gave it a squeeze. "The only thing you're worrying about for the rest of the night is pleasing me."

He grinned, then slid back on the bed and lay back, his hands under his head, his legs open and relaxed, and his eyes closed.

She could just imagine him as a king of the past, lying there waiting to be fucked by whoever he ordered to fuck him. But this wasn't the past, and he wasn't fucking merely anyone.

He was waiting for her . His body was only hers to enjoy, to love, to cherish, to do wonderful and terrible and deliciously naughty things to.

In their own bed, she might have kept the heels on, but in a borrowed bed hundreds of years old, she didn't want to risk any damage, so she slipped them off and slid onto the bed.

On all fours, she crawled over him, her hands whispering a touch over his skin, skimming over the top of his leg, then the inside of his thigh. Over the happy trail leading from his cock to his belly button. Over the planes of his abs and up his chest. She brushed the back of her fingers over one nipple and his hips pushed up, seeking her.

"Soon, my love," she crooned to him, as she continued her torturous touching. She brushed the tips of her fingers up his neck and over the stubble there. He'd shaved before the event, yet he had a faint shadow there now.

She traced around his lips, and his head shifted, seeking them. "Almost, Alex. Just a few minutes more."

He moaned, but stilled, content to allow her to trail her fingertips over his face, as if she were memorizing each feature, and she supposed she was.

Sometimes she'd pause what she was doing to snap a picture in her mind of something—the way his lips trembled slightly, or the way his brow furrowed in frustration then relaxed, the way his mostly inky black hair looked against the crisp, pale pink sheets.

She finally pressed her lips to his skin, repeating everything she'd done with her fingers but with kisses. It was only when she kissed his hips that she changed course and wrapped her fingers around his cock.

"Yessss," he hissed, and he released his hands to grip the sheets instead.

She kissed the head of his cock and licked the precum there, before covering it with her mouth and sucking .

His hips pushed up, but she tapped his leg. He wasn't in charge right now. He groaned and his ass clenched.

She continued sucking and licking him, her hands rubbing his cock or caressing his balls, until he shook his head. "Not like this. I want to be inside you."

After a final suck, she let go with a soft pop and, within moments, he'd reversed their positions.

His eyes looked like a brewing summer storm, dark and ready to let go but holding back. He kissed her hard, then his hands were everywhere.

Her bustier came off, her panties torn off, the garter and stockings following quickly. Then he tossed one of her legs over his shoulder and put his mouth to her center. Now it was her hips thrusting into his mouth, her hands fisting in his hair, urging him, guiding him.

She was close, sooooo close, when he pulled back and she groaned in frustration. But a moment later, his cock was inside her and she sighed.

He'd threatened to fuck her hard over a desk earlier, but now he fucked her hard on a very sturdy bed.

"Come, my queen. Becca, come for me."

She wrapped both legs around his waist, her hands going to her breasts to tease her nipples, and she came, her mouth open in a silent scream.

He continued to fuck her, thrusting, and thrusting, and thrusting, until he tossed his head back and came inside her in pulsing waves.

She was still throbbing when he finally collapsed on top of her, giving her a long kiss and a few slow thrusts.

When he finally slid out of her and rolled to the side, he lowered his hand to cover her core, holding in what he'd left behind and gently caressing her.

She hadn't wanted to think too much about getting pregnant again. If it happened, it happened. But this was a more deliberate statement she hadn't expected.

Gazing into his eyes, she wanted their child, even if she was scared of having another miscarriage. So, in that bed owned by a former president in a guest room in the White House, she reached down and covered his hand with one of hers too.

He sucked in another breath, then leaned over and kissed her softly for a long time. Eventually, they rose and cleaned themselves up. He slipped on some boxers, she slipped on a nightgown and panties, and they went to bed, entwined together.