Page 24 of Her Royal Daddy
“Dear Penthouse, the sharks aren’t the only things biting on the beach. Look out! Daddy’s got some wicked chompers and my nips and clitty aren’t telling him no.”
Osei was a tourist’s dream vacation waiting to happen, and a Dear Penthouse bestseller destined never to see the light of day. Each day was a new adventure, and the articles flowed from my fingertips onto my computer screen every night. I found places to publish them not only in local venues, but through travel sites all over the world, complete with pictures that Mazi took to accompany my stories. The clean ones.
Which wasn’t to say he didn’t take pictures to accompany the other stories too, because he did. Lots of pictures. He was sexily, erotically, unstoppably skilled with a simple iPhone camera. And I became shockingly used to looking into his camera while on my knees, my ass in the air and my hands tied behind my back, with Daddy Mazi’s cock spanking a steady rhythm in and out of me while he tells me, “Say punish me, Daddy, I’ve been a bad girl.”
I’m not going to lie. I’m really, really starting to like being bad.
But, for all that writing about Osei and its charms had become a daily pleasure, writing about the royal family was not. Being discreet while on the palace grounds was proving to be much harder than I anticipated, mostly because Daddy barely made the effort. He tried, especially in the beginning, but as time went on I could tell it was grating on him. In public at the palace, I walked in the shadows while he was accompanied by Jax and a small army of attendants hired to teach him about Osei and its history, about the reigning family and his history, about protocol and local politics, and how to walk and dress and speak and eat, and which utensil went with which plate of food. And I would take notes because a lot of it was stuff I needed to know too, and Mazi would sit there, stewing in silence, his dark eyes never far from me and that even darker look on his face that promised he was going to have me again just as soon as he could get me alone. In a hall, in a bathroom, shoved up against the wall with my skirt around my waist and my pussy clutched in his hand as if he owned it.
In a way, I suppose he did. My body was absolutely his, but my brain knew better. This was all still temporary. There was no way this could last, and nothing drummed that into me harder than during mealtimes when Mazi and his father would come together for what I was mentally calling the ‘press meetings.’ They would eat, talk about what Mazi was learning, and inevitably talk would eventually turn to his future, all of which took part with me sitting across the table from them and trying to act like the things I heard had no bearing on my life.
It was excruciating.
Today was one of those days because immediately after lunch, we moved into a conference room, and it was gut-wrenching on multiple levels. Not just because every word spoken only served to reinforce how out of place I was even to be following at their heels from one room to the next, but because of the king himself.
Over the last week, his health had deteriorated at a truly frightening pace. It was as if he had been holding on until he knew the future of his beloved kingdom was safe, and now that Mazi was in the palace, he was ready to let go. He looked positively sunken and frail as he took his place on the royal throne. His skin was sallow and his eyes bloodshot. It was obvious he wasn’t sleeping much or well these days. The pain had become too much.
Mazi saw it too. I could see echoes of what he’d gone through with his mother resurface in his face each time he looked at his father. Each time he did, almost immediately he’d look away again. He couldn’t talk about it—not to me, his father, Jax, or anybody else, because today we weren’t alone. The entire castle staff was present, as well as press from all over Africa. There were even news crews. I did my best not to flinch as cold cameras clicked away, unashamedly documenting the royal family’s pain.
The king allowed plenty of time for picture after picture to be taken until, as if on some hidden cue, Mazi moved to stand beside his father, hands folded in front of him.
A shiver went down my spine. This was it. I was officially fooling around in bed with a prince. A prince on his way to becoming king, and a hell of a lot sooner than I had originally thought.
“When I realized I was sick, it forced me to come to terms with my own mortality.” The frailty in his voice reflecting his words, the old king addressed the room. “In order to do that, I knew I needed to find an heir for the throne—somebody who would take care of my beloved kingdom and restore it to greatness. I was fortunate in that I did not have far or long to look. Years ago, long before I took my place as the King of Osei, I met a woman who, in my heart, became second only to my beloved Irina. Her name was Patrice and though our time together was brief, she bore me a son. Unbeknownst to me at the time, I was already promised in marriage to Irina, an arrangement made by our fathers when we were young. When Patrice and I found out, she implored me to do what was best for my country. Though she knew she was pregnant, she did not tell me until she was safely back in America and for many years, I kept her secret. I allowed her to raise our son in America, where she sacrificed selflessly to give him the best life that she could provide. I recently reached out to my son. I have had the pleasure of getting to know him as a young man, and I can tell you with certainty that she did a fantastic job. I can die in peace, knowing that my kingdom is not only safe, but that it will thrive under the fresh eyes of new leadership.”
He paused and everyone looked at Mazi. One would have to know him very well to see past the expressionless mask to the turmoil beginning to roll within him as Mazi took full stock of the responsibility now being placed upon his shoulders. I could see it, though. When I met his eyes, he forced the smallest of smiles.
“I do not have long,” the king confided. “I wish to live out the remainder of my days in quiet retirement, spending time with the man who I now take great pride and honor in introducing to you, my son, Prince Mazi of Osei, the future King of Osei.”
The king stood then as Jax came out from behind the throne with a small pillow. What the king placed upon Mazi’s head was more of a band than a crown, both beaded and jeweled, and far less opulent than anything I was familiar with when it came to pictures of royalty. Still, he wore it reverently and from the moment it touched his head, the room erupted in enthusiastic whoops and applause. Both of which seemed to please the king, although Mazi stubbornly kept his mask.
Poor Daddy. I knew what he was thinking, that he wasn’t ready for this yet. He was probably already getting hung up in his own head. He was a lot like me in that way, but I also knew that when the time came, he would step up to face the coming challenges in a way that would blow even his own mind. My job was to keep writing articles and to wait in the wings as the supportive girlfriend while he figured himself out.
The room grew quiet and everyone watched Mazi. It took a minute for me to realize they were waiting for him to speak. Pen poised above my notepad, I held my breath, ready to record what I was sure was going to be the shortest speech in the history of Osei.
He cleared his throat, looking right at me, and I gave him my most encouraging smile as he said, “Public speaking has never been my thing. Obviously, being a king isn’t something I ever imagined for myself. I don’t think I could say anything more eloquently than my father already has, and I just hope that I can live up to the faith that he has shown in me. I ask you all to be patient with us in this time of transition, and I am excited to serve you all as your king in the not-so-far-off future.”
The king looked to me next, and my gut did the most amazing somersault as I realized it was time for me to do my job. Getting up to address the room gave me a taste of what Mazi had just gone through. Everyone looked at me, cameras clicking away as I told them, “Thank you all for coming and giving us your time and attention. This will be our last press conference for a while. The family appreciates your thoughts and prayers during this difficult time.”
I stayed behind with the family while the room cleared, and nobody objected to my presence. Why would they? I lived on the grounds and, as the royal family’s media consultant, reporting this story was my job.
I was scribbling notes on the speeches, wondering how in the hell I was going to write this story without crying my eyes out when Mazi approached me. My heart pounded extra hard when I realized he was standing over me. It did that whenever he was anywhere in the vicinity. He was my drug and I was in constant need of my next fix.
“So,” he mused, still behind his mask, even when only in front of me. “I guess it’s more or less official now.”
“It appears that way.”
“Every little girl dreams of dating a prince, right?” He tried to smile. “What’s it going to take to get you officially on board, too?”
I frowned, looking past him to where Jax and the king were still deep in conversation. “Not now,” I said as softly as I could. “It’s not being discreet if your father’s less than five feet away.”
Also, more than half the palace servants were still in the room, but I wasn’t so naïve as to think most of them didn’t already know. Mazi had tipped the helicopter pilot well, but he hadn’t exactly taped his mouth shut.
“He’s busy, going over some official this-or-that with Jax. They’re not paying any attention to us.”
He was right, too. When I glanced nervously past him, both men had their heads tipped together over a stack of paperwork Jax was carrying. They were whispering, keeping their voices extra soft so as not to be overheard by any of the stragglers who hadn’t yet cleared the room.
“It doesn’t matter. I told you. I can’t risk it.”
