Page 31 of Learning to Rule

I bring his hard length to my core and lower myself over him until he fills me. In this position, I can’t tell where he ends and I begin. Dalton wraps his hand around my hair and pulls my lips back down onto his. The passion between us ignites, and I start to move up and down his cock. My breath quickens as we move together as one. Eventually, I pull back from the kiss so I can catch my breath. Dalton supports my weight and helps guide me as I move up and down on him. Our eyes meet, and in that moment, we reach our joint climax—together and entranced by each other.

I’m back where I belong, and I’ll never leave again.

Sixteen

Dalton

“Holy shit!” Elodie exclaims and then slams her hand over her mouth as I chuckle at her side. “Sorry, not the most lady like language, but it’s so big.” She looks sheepishly toward Hinchbootie, who’s accompanied us on our visit to view the collection of Janastrian crown jewels. “I dread to think how much this lot even costs, probably more than the State of Florida. I mean I’ve never seen so much bling in my life.”

“It’s the result of a lot of years collecting. Some of the pieces here are from the fifteen hundreds.”

“Holy shit,” Elodie repeats and looks apologetically at Hinchbootie again. “Sorry.”

He smiles at her. The corner of his mouth turns up, which I know means he’s finding her reaction delightful.

“I mean, some of this must be older than the founding of my country. Actually, you’ve not told me how old the palace is.” Elodie suddenly turns to me. “Please tell me it’s younger than America?”

“Some of it is, but there are a few parts of the original foundations that outdate the discovery of the Americas.”

“I’m in a completely different world.” Elodie shudders, and I pull her to me. “It’s crazy, Dalton. I know I have ancestors who originated from Europe—they were Scandinavian, hence the blonde hair, but America is such a young country compared to the world you live in. How many generations back can you trace your ancestry?”

“Am I going to get another adorable unladylike outburst if I tell you?”

“Probably.”

“I can trace my family history back to the year AD eight hundred, to my 35thgreat grandfather, a man called Erik. He was probably of Viking decent. Originally, the country was run by a number of warring, noble families. Erik brought them all together for the benefit of the country and their serfs, and the nobles proclaimed him the first King of Janastria.

“Serfs?” Elodie queries, and I realize it’s not a commonly used word these days.

“The people of the country. They were in servitude to the nobles. In exchange for lodgings and food, they worked for the noblemen, but it meant they gave up certain rights. For example, the nobleman could dictate who they married.”

Elodie raises an eyebrow at me.

“Kings seem to like doing that too.”

“They do.” I laugh. “Not this one, though. I don’t care who marries who. All I care about is getting a ring on your finger and binding you to me for the rest of our lives. I’m not going to let you get away from me again. It’s too hard not having you at my side.”

Elodie pushes her body against mine and stands on her tiptoes to kiss my lips. “I can’t agree with that sentiment more…and holy shit…AD eight hundred. That’s just insane.”

“I think I’m going to have to punish your dirty little mouth when I get you alone. I’ve just the thing to wash it out with.” I pull her hard to me, leaving her in no doubt she’ll be sucking my cock later.

Hinchbootie coughs behind us.

“Should we be choosing a ring?” I notice he’s dropped the ‘Your Majesty’ at the end of his sentences, but he still won’t call me by my name. For a man whose entire life has been devoted to duty, it’s as big as step as he can take at the moment—it’s enough for both of us.

“Yes, we should.” I step away from Elodie to a safer distance that won’t have me bending her over the crown jewels and taking her, here and now. “Have a look, Elodie. Whatever you prefer is yours for your engagement ring. If you don’t like anything, I’ve a collection of precious stones we can have made into a ring.”

“Just like magic.” Elodie clicks her fingers.

She looks down at the tray in front of her. There are so many rings from different queens and princesses down the centuries. They are all unique in their own way. Some have been used by more than one bride. My mother had her own ring made—it’s horribly ostentatious, studded with diamonds and rubies. It looks too big and bulky on her tiny fingers, especially alongside her wedding ring and an equally large eternity ring.

“I don’t have a clue. There’s too many to choose from.” Elodie sighs as she looks down at all the rings and nibbles at the edge of her lip, deep in thought.

I look around the rest of the room. The crown I wore as a prince sits in its rightful place next to the crown that I’ll wear next time there’s a state occasion—the crown of the King of Janastria.

Leaving Elodie to choose her rings, I make my way over to it. It’s crafted from a mixture of gold, silver and mainly platinum. The metal is barely visible, though, as it’s studded with various gems: large diamonds, sapphires, emeralds, pearls, and rubies. Around the rim is an ermine fur trim, and the cap that sits on my head is made of the finest, purple velvet. The symbols on the crown are heraldic: a Fleur de Lis, crosses, and a solid sphere to represent the world. I take the crown from its resting place. The weight of it shocks me. I didn’t expect it to be so heavy. I suspect I’ll find it hard to wear for any period of time without getting a sore neck.

“Is that your crown now? I remember your father wearing it at the opening of Parliament.” Elodie appears at my side.

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