CHAPTER NINE: Nick
Okay, I’d admit it: This could be the easiest kidnapping in Rostov family history. I wasn’t even sure I could call it a kidnapping anymore. I could tell when I opened my eyes and spotted Rebecca masturbating along with me at the door that this was going to be easy. Then again, maybe I shouldn’t have patted myself on the back just yet. Getting her knocked up and to Kosnovia might be the difficult part.
My grandfather had to sneak into a room where my grandmother’s entire family slept in order to kidnap her. Her mother, father, three sisters, and six brothers didn’t hear a thing. They simply woke up in the morning and she was gone.
My father supposedly kidnapped my mother from her father’s rebel stronghold in the mountains on the border with Kiev.
I just got stranded in a snow storm with a beautiful girl.
Oh well. I’d make up a much more heroic story for my father by the time I returned home.
I hadn’t set out to jack off in Rebecca’s shower, but the prospect of fucking her had made my cock grow hard. My father said the Rostov men could get erections from a stiff wind. He was right. I removed my suit to find my cock as thick and hard as a lead pipe. When a Rostov cock got stiff, it had to be relieved.
I caught Rebecca outside the door and realized she was stroking her pussy and breast while watching me stroke my cock.
I thought about commanding her to get in the shower to suck my royal dick, but I was already too far along. I could already feel the orgasm building in my tight balls. No, I would finish this job myself. Then I’d command her to submit.
My first time with her would be slow and deliberate. I would take my time kissing her lips, massaging her tits, pressing my tongue to her clit, burying my cock into her pussy.
She would beg me to fuck her harder and faster, but I would maintain the pace until she was ready to explode.
Then I would fill her with my royal seed as she screamed my name, and we would let nature take its course. And if nature didn’t take its course the first time, we would try again and again until it did.
I would give my father his grandson. The Rostov name would live on. It was my duty to make that happen. And as I watched Rebecca coming from the corner of my eye, I knew I was going to enjoy the task.
* * *
“How was your shower?” she asked as I emerged from the bathroom with a towel around my neck. I had packed a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt that had the Rostov crest on the front. I’d put them on before coming out of the bathroom.
I had thought about just walking out of the bathroom naked, but the cold was not kind to a man’s cock and balls. I had been worried about nothing. Even though a storm raged outside, it was toasty in the small apartment, thanks to an ancient-looking wood-burning stove in one corner of the living room.
“The shower felt amazing,” I said, rubbing the towel against my hair. “Thanks for letting me use it.”
“Thank you,” she said with a smile that quickly faded. “I mean, you’re welcome.” She gestured to the small kitchen table. “I have you some soup ready. It might be a little hot, so be careful.”
I sat down in the chair and leaned down to smell the soup. It was a vegetable soup of some kind. If it was anything like her coffee, the taste was going to be horrendous. Fortunately, we had a five-star Michelin chef who ran the kitchen in the royal palace, so Rebecca’s cooking wouldn’t be an issue—unless it killed me before I got her home.
“So, Nick,” she said, curling up in the chair across the table from me. She had changed into a bathrobe and fuzzy socks. She brought her knees up and wrapped her arms around them. “Tell me about yourself.”
“What would you like to know?” I asked. I ate a spoonful of the soup and was pleasantly surprised to find that it wasn’t entirely terrible. In fact, it was quite good. It was thick and tomato-y and felt wonderful going down my throat. I took another spoonful and then another.
“You have an odd accent,” she said. “Where are you from?”
“I am from a small country near Russia called Kosnovia,” I said proudly. I had noticed before that my Russian accent broke through every time I said the name of my country. I’d worked hard at Oxford to lose the accent, thinking it was old school and not fit for the international stage where I would spend the rest of my life, but in times like these the accent returned and, according to several ladies who had given in to my charms, made me even sexier, if that was possible.
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard of that,” she said with a frown. “Do you still live there?”
I licked soup from my lips and gave her a nod. “Actually, I’ve just returned there. I’ve spent the last few years studying international economics at Oxford in England.”
“Wow,” she said, her eyes wide. “I’ve only been out of Snowcap once and…” I noticed the light in her eyes momentarily go out. “Anyway, so you went to school in Oxford and now you’re back in Kosno…”
“Kosnovia,” I said with a smile. The little apartment was lit by several lamps that were placed around on tables. The kitchen was illuminated only by a light over the sink and a candle burning on the table between us. She looked beautiful, curled up on the chair with her chin resting on her knees and the light dancing in her eyes.
“What do you do there?” she asked. “In Kosnovia?”
I hesitated for a moment. Usually when I told people I was a Russian prince they looked at me as if I were insane. “Sure you are, and I’m the queen of England!” was the standard response.
I didn’t want Rebecca thinking that I was totally insane, at least not until after we were married, so I lied.
“I’m going to teach economics at the university,” I said. “That’s why I was headed to the Overlook Lodge, for an economic summit.”
“How exciting your life must be,” she said with a dreamy sigh.
“Tell me about your life,” I said.
The smile faded from her lips as she let her eyes go around the room. “You’re looking at it, I’m afraid.”
I leaned in and gave her a warm smile. It was taking every ounce of willpower I could muster not to rip off her robe and bend her over the kitchen table. My cock was ready for round two. It moved in my pants, as if it could sense her pussy near. Sometimes I thought the damn thing had a mind of its own. God forbid it should ever wrestle control of my body from my brain. I would not be held responsible for the havoc that might ensue.
“This doesn’t look like such a bad life to me,” I said, leaning in and giving her the warmest smile I could muster. “Carl said you owned the bar. How did someone like you come to own a place like this?” I winked at her playfully. “And I mean that in a most respectful way.”
Her smile made me sigh. “My mom and dad were from Snowcap,” she said, staring at the table between us as she spoke. “They opened this bar before I was born, when this was a thriving tourist area. Since the Overlook opened, Snowcap has pretty much died. Anyway, Mom left when I was young. She hated the weather and the bar and, I guess, my dad. She ran off with another man. My dad raised me. I started working here when I was a kid and never stopped. My dad had a heart attack a few years ago behind the bar. I took it over and, well, here I am.”
“Does it make you sad that you’ve never traveled the world?” I asked, already knowing the answer but wanting to bring it to the forefront. “I mean, again, no offense, but there is a great big world outside these walls. Do you ever think about leaving?”
She blinked at me. “Leave Snowcap?”
“Yes, to see what’s out there.”
She looked away. “I left once. It didn’t work out so well.”
I rested my elbows on the table and spread out my hands. “Maybe you left with the wrong man.”