Page 43 of Maid for the Alien Prince

His focus was entirely upon me. “And now?”

“Now… you’re struggling to pretend to be something you’re not. That’s not a bad thing. If you’re trying to be coldhearted, merciless, and greedy, but can’t bring yourself to do it, maybe our hopes were well-founded. It means you can become something more than the ‘elites’ could ever be.”

“How?”

I smiled up at him. “By being yourself. By helping the people, the servants, and giving them a leg up, to show the rest of the empire that they don’t need to live under the tyranny the royal family has instigated for the past thousand years, by showing them that there is a better, kinder way.”

Rayaw shook his head. “I can’t forgive the royal family for what they did.”

“I’m not asking you to,” I said, placing my hand on his arm. “What I’m saying is, by helping everyday people, by giving them a chance to educate themselves, to learn, to give them opportunities and positions they never could have attained before, you make the royal family look weak, greedy, and merciless—which is exactly what they are.”

Rayaw looked at me for a long time, in deep thought. He didn’t shake his head, but the frown of thought remained on his brow long after I had finished.

By the time it had faded, he pulled the blankets back, placed his hand on my bare ass, and drew me onto his cock once more. “Then maybe I can practice… and begin by helping this female first…”

I ran a hand through his thick hair.

“Yes, please, my Prince.”

This time, the sex was slow, and built up into a crescendo like the very best songs back on Earth.

He ground deep inside me, making the breath hitch in my throat. I clutched him close as he drilled me first on my side, then on top, and then behind, hitting me at every possible angle.

My eyes rolled into the back of my head three times—no, four!—before he grunted and filled me once more with his seed.

He remained on top of me and wrapped his arms tightly around me, like a nut wrapped in the safe cocoon of a shell, warm and protected and sheltered.

I glanced toward the door—the only escape hatch available to me now—but knew I would never use it. Something between us had changed, and it was a change for the better.

* * *

The following morning, I awoke to find the bed empty beside me. On the pillow was a small handwritten note:

“This morning, you looked like a saaquitch—which means ‘angel’ in your language—and I did not want to disturb you. You will need your rest for the rest of this week…”

He signed off with his name and a strange little symbol that I imagined meant a kiss in his culture.

I stretched and luxuriated in the cool sheets beneath me. My body ached in a pleasing way, as it was always my preference to feel used in the bedroom. After making love three times last night, I could confirm that I felt well and truly used.

I checked the clock and saw that it was eight o’clock, which gave me just enough time to take a nice shower, put on my maid uniform, and get some breakfast in the servants’ quarters.

Then I would continue with my duties—at least, my pretend duties as a maid—and think on the activities of last night as well as all the promise of the following six days to come.

My hip ached as I limped downstairs. I needed to remind myself to take it easier with Rayaw in future. There were certain angles that my hip was not yet used to performing and it was best if I could avoid stressing it as much as possible.

By the time I reached the servants’ quarters and connected kitchens, my hip was warmed up and moved naturally. I met each of the servants’ eyes as I descended the stairs, smiling and saying, “Good morning.”

Most responded the same in return but I couldn’t help but imagine a glint in their eyes at perhaps knowing about Prince Rayaw and my deal.

Did they know? Or was it just my imagination being hyperactive?

Had Emma flapped her lips as I expected she would have if she didn’t have the threat of revealing a secret—true or not—about her in return?

I would have to speak with her this morning. If necessary, I would circulate fake rumors and get the staff focused on something else.

I grabbed some bread—the beauty with the kitchen staff being humans was that they always prepared a delicious buffet-style breakfast. I chowed down on my danish and drained my first cup of coffee like it was water. As I refilled with a second cup, a figure joined me at my shoulder.

By the way she moved, I could tell it was Emma.

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