After everything that happened with Bran and the assassination attempt, I thought things might slow down. Instead, the next week is a blur of activity.

It’s a media blitz unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before, which isn’t saying much, but still. We go on local radio shows, television morning shows, and do a little event every night. Bran continually talks up the monarchy, our relationship, and all the investing and infrastructure development he has planned through his new company. He’s continually talking about how much better life is in Bellestan every single appearance he makes, and he backs everything up with charts and graphs.

We have basically no alone time. We’re no longer staying in the castle bunker, instead roaming the beautiful countryside. I wish I had more time to explore, but every single second is taken up by the media blitz or by planning and strategizing with Bran’s public relations team.

Not to mention there’s the constant security risk. We’re traveling in what’s basically a tank and we’re staying surrounded by guards at all time. I’m pretty much never alone, and Bran is literally never alone. Which means I’m never alone with Bran, and that’s hard.

Because I want to be alone with him very, very badly.

We’ve been able to sneak a kiss here and there, but never anything more. He’s constantly in demand by his staff, and he’s working long hours. For my part, I’m learning a little Bellestanian, at least enough to say some basic stock phrases, and I’m doing as many interviews as I can. At first, it was really difficult and I was constantly stressed, but I quickly got used to it. People are mainly nice to me and don’t press me with hard questions since I don’t speak their language and they typically don’t speak English well enough to push. I don’t have to worry about getting caught in a lie, because even if I did, I could just claim some kind of language barrier and misunderstanding.

You’d think it would be easy, riding around and doing interviews, but it’s exhausting. I didn’t think I could be so tired, and yet I’m finding out just how tired I really can be every day. We get up at five in the morning to get on the early talk radio shows and early news shows and we get to bed around midnight at least after long planning and strategy sessions.

Despite all this, Bran is shining. He’s growing and thriving, and he looks damn good on TV, I have to admit. He’s a natural at this apparently, though I can tell that he hates it. Giving interviews was never his things back in the States, but out here, he’s a celebrity and a part of the monarchy. People want to hear from him, and he’s giving them as much of him as he possibly can.

I don’t know how long he can keep this pace up. One week passes with no sign of slowing down, and I’m just doing my best to keep up. Bran takes security very seriously, and we never go anywhere without at least two guards to protect us, and everything is constantly swept for poison and explosives.

Which is how I find myself early one morning around four-thirty, the only second I can find to work out these days, jogging on a treadmill and watching bad Bellestanian political TV. They have a CNN-equivalent, except apparently it’s a radical news channel that leans toward the opposition.

And they’re doing a story on Bran himself.

I can’t help but pay attention.

At first, it seems like any other story on Bran. He’s been in the news a lot lately, which is the whole point of this trip. Nothing seems out of the ordinary as I start to break a slight sweat. I’ve picked up some Bellestanian, though, and what they’re saying doesn’t sound like the normal PR stuff.

They keep saying this one word, “moshennich,” over and over. It’s not a word that I’ve heard before, and normally that wouldn’t bother me. But it’s the way the host keeps saying it, like he’s spitting out fire. Suddenly, there’s a picture of me on the screen at our last PR stop at some bookstore in the last town. I get a strange feeling as I look over at the guard that’s supposed to be watching me.

“Markus,” I say to him. “Can you translate this for me?”

He steps closer to me. “Ah, uh, my Princess, I cannot.”

I narrow my eyes at him. I’m getting sick of them calling me their Princess, since I’m not married to Bran and therefore not a Princess, but I let it slide. They’re not going to stop that anytime soon.

“Do you not speak the language?” I ask him.

“It’s just, ah, this is a very bad show,” he says, looking worried. I swear, he’s starting to sweat more than I am.

I slow the treadmill down to a brisk walk. “Markus,” I say sternly. “Please, I want to know what they’re saying.”

He frowns and looks at the ground. “It’s an ugly show, Princess. Maybe we can watch something else?”

“Markus.” I glare at him.

“Very well.” He clears his throat. I almost feel sorry for him, since clearly whatever they’re saying isn’t very nice. “The man is saying that Prince Bran is a liar and a cheat. He is saying that Bran cannot help but cheat at every stop we make on our tour, sometimes twice in a day, and they are calling you a stupid American whore.”

I blink at him, totally surprised. “What do you mean by ‘cheat’?” I ask him.

He sighs. “Sex with other women, my Princess. I’m sorry, it is a nasty show, you should not be watching it.”

“Sex with other women?” I look back at the screen and suddenly there’s an image, a grainy black and white shot, of two people in a bed. “What is that?” I ask Markus.

“They say it’s a photograph of the Prince with a prostitute,” he says. “They are lying, Princess. This show, it has very bad reputation in Bellestan, only crazies pay attention to it.”

I stare at the picture and ignore Markus. The more I look at the picture, the more I think I can see Bran in that man. But I can’t imagine when he’d have time to sleep with anyone else. In fact, we haven’t even had time to sleep together, and we’re staying in the same room. In the same bed, in fact. We can’t exactly pretend to do otherwise while we’re traveling, and so I made that little concession. But we’ve both been too exhausted, and I’ve actually made an effort to try and keep our relationship professional, at least while we’re on the road.

Maybe that’s a mistake. Maybe Bran needs to be touched and loved in that way, and I’m screwing up by not giving that to him. I don’t know if that’s really him in those pictures, but I suddenly have to talk to him.

I turn off my treadmill and grab my towel, wiping myself off. I’m still a little sweaty and my heart is racing, but I can’t tell if that’s from being tired or from nervous excitement. I walk back through the hotel with Markus trailing close behind me, and I barge back into our bedroom. Markus stays behind as I shut the door.

Bran is in the bathroom and I can hear the shower running. Taking a deep breath, I barge into the bathroom and Bran looks at me, completely naked and dripping wet. The shower is basically just a glass box, so there’s nothing hiding his body from me.

At first, he looks shocked, but quickly his surprise changes into a huge grin. “Couldn’t help yourself, could you?” he asks.

I take a deep breath and look away from him. I can’t look at him and have this conversation. He’s so damn attractive, with that big, thick cock of his, and those muscles rippling down his large frame. “Can we talk?” I ask.

“Sure. Take off your clothes and join me. We can talk all you want.”

I shake my head. “Get out.” I grab his towel and hold it up to him.

“Is this important?”

“Maybe. Just humor me and put something on, okay?’

“Fine,” he grumbles, turning off the water. “But it’d be better if you joined me in there.”

He steps out and takes the towel from me, He wipes himself off before wrapping it around his waist. When he’s covered, he leans up against the sink and crosses his arms.

“So, what did you drag me out of the shower for?” he asks.

I look at his handsome face and I realize that I’m making a stupid mistake, but I plunge ahead anyway. “I saw a news story this morning,” I say.

“About what?”

“About you cheating on me.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Really,” I say. “They had pictures and everything to prove it.”

“Did they?” He laughs, shaking his head. “What channel were you watching?”

“I don’t know,” I admit. “Markus says it was a bad program, one only crazy people watch.”

“I think I know the one,” he says softly, still smiling.

“Listen, I know this is nuts. But if you are sleeping with other women, can you be a little more… discreet?”

“Mila,” he says.

But I push on. “I know this isn’t real. I know this is just a business thing, and we’ve been busy lately, and I’ve maybe pushed you away a little bit. I’ve just been worried about doing that while we’re traveling and, I don’t know, maybe you need to get it from somewhere else.”

“Mila,” he says again, stepping toward me.

“Just, don’t get caught, okay? You can do whatever you want. I’m not really your fiancée. Just don’t embarrass me, I guess, if this is what you need.”

I hate myself for saying this. I don’t mean a word of it. I want to beg him to stop, tell him how much I need him and want him, apologize for stupidly pushing him away and being frigid this past week, but I don’t. I’m afraid that’ll only make things worse.

But he steps up to me and pulls me against him. I’m surprised as he presses me against his gorgeous body, still slightly damp from the shower.

“Mila,” he says again. “I’m not sleeping with anyone else. It’s just some bullshit smear campaign.”

“Really?” I ask.

“Of course.” He looks down at me, a smile on his face. “But I like that you’re jealous.”

I look away. “I’m not jealous.”

“You very clearly are. But believe me, you’re the only one I want. I know this has been hard, which is why I haven’t been pressing you, but I think about it every day.”

“You think about what?” I ask, almost a whisper. My heart is beating fast and I realize that the only thing separating me from this man’s gorgeous naked body is a thin white towel.

“Fucking you,” he says. “I think about your perfect lips wrapped around my big thick cock all the time. Do you know how badly I want you, Mila? Despite all of this, the only thing I really think about is fucking you.”

I bite my lip, a jolt of excitement and desire running through me. “Is that true?”

“Fucking hell, it’s true,” he says. “You can’t tell? I think it’s obvious.” His smirk is driving me insane, and that’s when I notice it.

He’s hard. I can feel him getting harder as he stands with me pulled against him. And it reminds me all over again of how thick he is and how good he feels deep between my legs.

I look up into his eyes and I realize how stupid I can be. I shouldn’t believe some garbage I see on some early morning channel that maybe ten other people are watching. I should trust Bran, since he’s done nothing but be good to me.

And now, I want to be good to him.

I drop down to my knees in front of him, and he takes a step back.

“Mila,” he says.

“Shut up.” I reach up and pull the towel off his waist, revealing his hard cock.

“Fuck, girl,” he grunts as I take him in my hand. “I thought you were going to punch me in the face just a minute ago.”

“I can admit when I’m wrong. Are you complaining?”

“God, no,” he says as I slowly stroke his shaft. “I’ve been dreaming about you down on your knees like this for days.”

“Have you?” I ask. “What else do you dream about?”

I lean forward and take him between my lips as he starts to talk to me.

“Fuck, I think about that body. Do you know how sexy your sweet round ass is? I want to watch you slide back and forth on my cock as I slap that thick ass and make you moan.”

I suck him slowly at first, taking him deep into my mouth and sliding my hand down along his shaft. I take him into my throat and slide back, getting him nice and wet and stroking him with my hand.

“I think about the way your cunt just wraps around my big cock and slides down along it, soaking wet, dripping wet for me. I think about how easily I can stretch you out and fill you up, deep inside your tight little spot.”

I suck him faster, my pussy dripping wet as he tells me what he thinks about. I can barely control myself. I need his cock in my mouth. I want to make him feel good, maybe as an apology for believing those lies for a second, but mostly because I’ve been needing his taste all this time. And it drives me crazy to know that he’s been thinking about it too.

“I think about my hand in your hair, my cock sinking between your legs as I pull it and make you my fucking dirty girl. I think about fucking you hard, rough, making you scream, making you sweat. Goddamn, girl, I want to feel you come on my fat cock again. I want to hear you moan in my ear as you lose all control. I love making your legs shake as my cock slams inside of you.”

I take him deep into my throat and suck him faster, sliding up and down. He groans and presses me down, fucking my lips with his cock, and I can barely fit him in my mouth but I’m not stopping. I can’t stop right now. I need to taste this, I need it so bad.

“Fuck, girl, I think about this, just like this. I think about you swallowing every drop, because I know you can’t help yourself. You’re my little fucking slutty Princess and I’m going to have what I want.”

I let him slide into my throat and I know he’s close. I want it so badly I can barely breathe. I jerk his thick cock with both of my hands as I suck the tip of his cock faster and faster, working him, trying to get him off, trying to make him feel good.

He comes hard in my mouth and quickly I slide down his shaft. He comes into my throat and I swallow it all, every single drop. I don’t let up, sucking him faster and harder as he comes, making him groan with pleasure.

Slowly I finish, but before I’m done, I clean him up with my tongue. I look up at him and smile. He pulls me to my feet, pins me against the door, and kisses me deep and slow.

It feels so good to finally touch him again. It’s almost like we’ve been apart for this past week. We’ve been so busy, maybe we forgot that this was the best thing. Slowly the kiss breaks apart.

“Now, want to finish that shower with me?” he asks.

“Maybe,” I say.

“Maybe?” He laughs and pulls off my shirt. He practically rips my sports bra off as he kisses my chest and neck and teases my breasts. “I’ll make it worth your time.”

“How will you do that?”

He drops to his knees, pulls off my shorts and panties, and presses his face between my legs.

“Bran!” I say.

“Beautiful,” is his only response.

“Come on, let’s get in the shower,” I gasp as he licks my clit.

He laughs and stands, taking me by the hand. He turns the water on, gets me into the stream, and pins me again the wall. He doesn’t hesitate to drop to his knees again as he starts to suck my clit and lick my pussy.

He gets me off in record time. One second he’s down on his knees, and the next I’m coming in his mouth, moaning his name, my whole body on fire with need and desire.

Afterwards, we shower together, and I think that might feel as good as anything else. Sure, there’s still danger and we’re still going to be busy, but now I feel like we’re complete again. I feel like we’re getting back on track.

I didn’t know how badly I needed this, but now it’s obvious. I can’t get through this without his touch.