Page 10 of Craving a King

After my shower, I decide to let Ella know about breakfast and our plans for the day. Hopefully, she’s not still asleep. I am eager to see her, and that is not good.

As I approach her door, I start to imagine what she looks like lying in her bed. Maybe I will knock, and she will tell me to enter while safely under covers. Or maybe she is just stepping out of the shower and will have to quickly grab a robe. Steam will rise from her skin, and her hair will be damp with dew and perfume.

When I reach her door, I am overtaken by nerves. Is it too early to be at her door? After a couple minutes deliberating, I decide a king can do what he likes in his own home. She is my guest and I need to keep her apprised of our schedule.

I knock and am kept waiting for several minutes when I turn to leave.Maybe this really was a bad idea. Just then, she breathlessly answers the door. She is sweating and visibly exerted. When she sees me, she arches her eyebrows and removes an AirPod from her ear. “OH! Good morning, your majesty. I am finishing up a Pilates workout. Can I help you with something?”

I am at a loss for words. She is a vision in a white sports bra with black leggings. I can see that she is full at the top and bottom, and I want to bury my face between the strong thighs she just finished bending and contorting. Her face is flushed, and her hair is tied in a pile on top of her head. She has lovely high cheekbones, but what really mesmerizes me is her stomach. It is not super muscular, but it is lightly toned. It looks like a region that is soft as a pillow, connecting her supple breasts to her waist. I want to rest my hand there and rub back and forth before kissing a trail down into her valley.

“Your majesty?” She interrupts my naughty thoughts.I hope she did not notice me drooling all over her like a young teenager who just entered puberty.

“We get started with our days early: breakfast is promptly at eight in the morning every day. Don’t be late and be ready for the day,” I say gruffly. “We have a long day ahead of us.”

She looks at me intensely, like she is weighing something on her mind before speaking. “Why don’t you come in and tell me what the plans are?”

I clear my throat a little too loudly. “Ehh? You want me to enter your room?”

She laughs. “Yes, your majesty, I don’t bite. And I’ll be sure to avoid your lips.”

So, she is thinking about our kiss, too. I wonder if she touched herself last night thinking about my body pressed into hers and my lips in places I have yet to explore. Just the thought that she may have been next door getting herself off at the thought of me while I was getting off at the thought of her makes me nearly come inside my damn robe. I should have gotten dressed before coming over.

“Thank you for the assurances.” As soon as I walk into the room, I notice she has an outfit made up of silk. That will not do. “You know Ella, you may want to rethink your outfit for today. Silk does not breathe well in African heat.”

She looks over at her outfit and smirks. “My best friend Maya warned me of that. I should have listened. Hopefully some of the things she sent over will arrive tomorrow and I will have more choices. I do believe I have a linen dress that will work.”

As she starts to move toward her closet, I am overtaken by her lovely citrus scent. “You smell like a peachy orange. I’ve never smelled a scent like that before.”

She stops to turn to me and blushes. “It’s a custom fragrance. You have a good nose, King; it is peach and orange flavors, but also with a hint of vanilla.”

I move closer to her without thinking. She is magnetic. “Well, your scent is intoxicating. May I ask a favor of you?”

She turns her head to the side and gives me a look of intrigue. “It depends on what it is, King.”

I chuckle. “Nothing that grand. I know we talked about this before, but I need you to stop with the ‘your majesty’ or ‘king.’ Kofi is fine.”

“AH! I see. Well, to be honest…your majesty,” she continues cautiously, “I’d like to keep a level of formality between us as we work out how my organization can serve your people. You’re a king, aren’t you? I’ll address you as one as a sign of respect.”

I needlessly grab her hand and begin to circle her palm. “So…you respect me?”

She looks down at my thumb working its magic inside her hand before looking me directly in the eye. “I do.”

“But you do not respect my wishes?”

“Not that one.”

I smile and release her hand before walking over and sitting in an armchair. “Well, how about this one. Now that you have stayed here at my home and see how incredibly comfortable it is, why don’t you continue to stay here for the duration of your trip.”

She walks over to me and opens her mouth to protest, but I politely shush her before continuing. “You now know I am a perfect gentleman and that we are not alone. It will be easier to conduct our business and daily outings if we have the same home base. I promise you will not get better food and hospitality than Akua’s.”

She leans against the end table next to my chair and eyes me curiously. “Outings?”

“Yes, outings. I plan to show you the best Ghana has to offer. I want you to meet the community and discover what makes the Ashanti heartbeat. Then you can truly propose a school plan that will meet our needs. Today, I plan to take you to the Manhyia Palace Museum to learn some history. Then Manhyia Palace, which is the seat of Ashanti government and my home in Kumasi. We will also visit the marketplace to start putting faces to your plans. How does that sound?”

She slowly nods her head. “That sounds manageable. However, we will have to go another day. I have plans to meet with the Tarkwa village chief’s representative today.”

I abruptly shift in my seat. Her answer throws me for a loop. The Tarkwa chief is Kwabena Owusu. I definitely don’t want her spending time with any of the Owusus alone. They could ruin everything, especially his daughter, Abena. They are also rumored to be crooks. Their business dealings are not always proper. Nevertheless, I try to sound calm, but I fail. “Who’s the representative you’re meeting with?” My voice booms.

She shifts in her seat. Raising my voice has made her uncomfortable. I must do a better job hiding my displeasure. “The chief’s son, Thomas Owusu. He reached out to Adom. He sounded excited about what Revolution Academies could do for Tarkwa in particular. He invited me to the village today.”

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