But I ignore him as my fingers search the wall behind the tapestry until finally…I find the latch and push the door open.
“Oh! This is it! This is the sex room!”
“The what?”
“The sex room, this is where—” I catch the look of confusion on the king’s face and it takes me by surprise. “Wait, do you not know this? Is it possible that I, an ignorant American, know something about your family history that you don’t?”
“Would you care to enlighten me?” he says through gritted teeth.
“With pleasure. Back in the 1700s, your ancestor, Yelizavetta Romansky, was quite the—shall we say—free spirit. She took hundreds of lovers over her lifetime and she met them in secret right here.” I gesture to the secret room we’ve just found. “Well, the ones she screwed at this palace, anyway. There are probably other sex rooms at other palaces.”
I head into the room, and of course King Stick-Up-His-Butt starts blustering a protest. “What are you—? Why—?”
“Duh—I found the sex room. As if I’m not going to check it out!”
I grab his wrist and tug him inside the room with me, then I press the little latch that prompts the secret door to close. The look of horror on his face is priceless.
“What did you do? We’re stuck in here now!”
“Relax…the door will open back up just fine. But I want to explore this room a little first.”
“You could have done that with the door open,” he points out.
“And then everyone would know this room exists—do you really want every man and his dog knowing about your secret sex room?”
“It’s not my secret sex room. I’m still not sure I believe you that it’s anyone’s secret sex room. It must have had some other use.”
I arch an eyebrow at him. “Such as?”
His face takes on a thoughtful expression before his eyes light in triumph. “A hideout! It was probably designed as a hideout for the family for when the palace was under attack.”
I shrug. “You’re probably right.”
His mouth falls open, as if he’s flabbergasted that I’m agreeing with him. “I’m right?”
I shrug again. “That was probably its original purpose, sure. But this palace has only been attacked once. That was over two hundred years ago and they barely even made it past the main gate. I’m sure over the years with this room going unused it found a different purpose.”
“As a sex room?” he asks with a derisive smirk.
I shrug. “I’ll show you my sources if you want. There are primary sources—diaries of Yelizavetta’s lovers with detailed accounts of some of the stuff that went on in here. And let me tell you, people in the olden days were kinky bastards. Fifty Shades has nothing on that shit.”
“What did they do?”
I blink in surprise, thrown off for a moment by the question. I quickly gather myself, though, and think back to everything I’d learned about Yelizavetta and her many lovers. It had definitely been the most interesting research I’d ever done.
“Hmm…hot wax. Bondage. Role play…”
“What else?” he asks, surprising me with his sudden curiosity.
“Orgies. She was very big on those. The more men the merrier.”
“Only men? Not other women?”
I shake my head. “Only men. They would take it in turns to pleasure her. And they’d pleasure each other while they were waiting.”
“Go on,” he says in a hoarse whisper, now hanging on my every word.
“Yelizavetta would often take two of her lovers inside her at once,” I say, my voice quiet, my eyes locked with Lukas’s. “There’s one account from a guy who was surprised to be able to feel the other man’s cock through Yelizavetta. They loved the sensation of their cocks moving together so much they started doing it on their own, without Yelizavetta between them.”
He’s gotten so close to me, I can smell hints of apple and strawberries on his breath. On instinct, I jut my hips forward a little, causing out cocks to brush together. And he’s unmistakably hard.
He lets out a soft hiss at the contact, his eyes falling closed. But he doesn’t move away. And when his eyes open again, the desire in them is so potent it takes my breath away.
I tilt my head up and brush my lips to his. It’s just for a second and it’s the briefest of touches, because as soon as I do it, it occurs to me maybe I’ve gone too far. Maybe I’ve been too presumptuous.
But a moment later his mouth is on mine again and this time he’s the instigator. And this time it doesn’t stop with a brief brush of our lips; it’s deep and devouring and hungry.
His tongue runs over my lips, begging entry, and I let him in. I grab onto the back of his hair, pulling him even closer as our tongues twine together in a needy, desperate, breathless kiss.
What the fuck is happening right now? How in the hell am I kissing the king? How is he kissing me back?
And not just that. Our bodies are molded against each other, our hard cocks rubbing together. He pushes one of his legs between mine and I’m a fucking mountain of need as I practically hump his thigh.
“Do you have…supplies?” he murmurs.
I lean my head back so I can arch an eyebrow at him. “What? You think I just carry that stuff around?”
He shrugs. “Possibly.”
“Well, I don’t”
“That’s unfortunate.”
Is he saying what I think he’s saying? That if it weren’t for a lack of a condom and lube right now he’d want to fuck me? Or he’d want me to fuck him?
Either way, I’d totally be on board. My mind flashes to the scene I witnessed the other day. I haven’t been able to stop picturing him riding my cock the way he rode that dildo, and I swear here and now that I will never venture anywhere without a condom and lube in my pocket ever again.
Fortunately, there are still a few things we can do without the necessary supplies,
