"The ego, gotta be vetoed if you want a free-throw
The evils, stay with the scripture what your mama read you
You gotta milk the game, son, I couldn't bottle feed you
This next bar was 'bout to do some Logic shit
But now I gotta stop the shit and let me pop my shit
Drama still added on, stayin' positive
All my niggas on my side, on the opposite…"
Denzel Curry—"Diet"
Vivienne dragged Erik through diplomatic guests and rooms until they were back at the entrance of the palace. A dark SUV with tinted windows whipped around and a guard opened the door for her and Erik.
"Get in!" she said.
Erik climbed into the back seat with her as light snow fell down.
"It snows here?" Erik asked.
"It's rare."
"Where are we going?"
"A surprise."
Vivienne pulled a small cell phone from inside her bra cup.
"Don't look so shocked!" she teased.
She made a call and Erik was able to make out part of her conversation with his basic French.
"Stark is not going to let me just hang out—"
"I'll handle Tony. You're the first interesting person I've met in a long time. I want to show you off."
"To who?"
"My friends—"
"Aye, driver…stop the car."
"Gasper, arrête la voiture…"
The SUV came to a stop just outside the palace property line.
"Stark has me on a tight leash here."
Vivienne pouted.
"Can't we just hang out in the palace?" he asked.
"Too many eyes and ears. I want to talk freely."
Going to his hotel was out of the question.
Vivienne gave instructions to Gaspar and texted someone.
Erik's cell buzzed. He pulled it out of his jacket.
"Where are you?"
Stark's voice was rushed.
"The Princess kidnapped me."
Tony didn't sound happy. Vivienne grabbed Erik's cell.
"I will bring him back safe to your hotel…it's boring there. He's young and should hang out with people his age…so what…you are such a bore right now! I don't care. I will call my Uncle and tell him. Yes…I will tell him. Goodbye, Tony. Stop acting like an old tired father."
She tossed Erik his phone.
"My Uncle wants you tomorrow night. I will keep you until tomorrow morning."
"Like some pet."
"And a sweet pet you are," she said patting his forehead.
Erik grabbed her hand and tossed it from his face.
"Easy now," she whispered.
Erik sat back and watched fat snowflakes fall from the sky. Forty minutes into their ride they were climbing up mountainous terrain until they passed through massive black metal gates. The snow had grown thick and at least three inches covered the ground. Two black Great Danes circled the car before being ushered away by a butler who held an umbrella to protect Vivienne from the snow.
Erik shivered as they stepped out of the SUV in front of a large chateau, but the Princess had them inside the secured hideaway quickly. Within the overly warm residence at least thirty twenty-somethings sat and stood around a cozy open space with dark furnishings drinking, smoking, and listening to music. Erik looked around and saw French antiques mixed with modern touches. Like the palace, it smelled old and decadent.
A fire roared in a tall and wide fireplace big enough to roast ten pigs on a spit. Above the massive ornate mantel was an aged oil painting of seventeenth-century royalty in a pastoral scene.
"Tu t'es échappé!"
A young man with oily dark hair and a lop-sided grin rushed over to Vivienne giving her cheek kisses.
"S'il vous plait parlez anglaise, Durant," Vivienne said.
"Is this him?" Durant asked.
"No. Don't even mention that bastard," Vivienne snapped.
She grabbed Erik's hand and pulled him to the center of the opulent gathering of blue-bloods.
"Vivienne, he has been calling here non-stop. He threatened to fly here and find you. You should speak with him," a young woman with flaxen hair pinned in a severe chignon said.
There was an urgency in her voice.
"Everyone, this is Erik. He works for Tony Stark. He is my Uncle's special guest. Erik these are my friends and that is my cousin Durant and my cousin Remy. Erik is American. "
"Do you speak French?" the flaxen-hair woman asked.
Erik lied.
"No."
The butler poured Erik a glass of medium brown liquor from a crystal decanter.
"No worries, Erik, we all speak English here," Durant said.
A raven-haired woman with thin glossy lips leaned into another white woman next to her as Vivienne turned her back.
"…hommes noirs…"
Erik caught the two white women snickering about Vivienne and Black men. He tried not to glare at them as he felt out the energy in the room. The decrepit rich. Millionaires would be shunned as peasants among this slick bunch.
Erik sipped his drink. Old rich bourbon. The kind not sold in stores.
The liquid beat a warm trail down his throat.
Durant gave Erik a tour of the first floor and Vivienne was cornered by her friends and berated for something that he couldn't hear nor understand that well.
"Where were you educated?" Remy asked.
Plump, bow-lipped, and nattily dressed, Remy smoked the same clove-flavored cigarette that Vivienne favored. Blowing smoke above Erik's head, Remy's ruddy cheeks looked influenced by too much liquor and whatever else they were snorting or popping by the blown-out wet look in his light blue eyes.
"I'll be attending grad school at M.I.T. soon," he said.
There was no sense lying. Erik knew they were just trying to place him in the proper hierarchy for their comfort.
"How long have you been with Tony Stark?"
"Almost a year now."
Erik swirled his glass and sipped a little more bourbon. He moved freely about the room admiring a few sculptures. One, in particular, caught his eye as it sat on a cherry wood console table. He pointed to it.
"This is a nice replica of the Actaeon and Diana statues at the Caserta Royal Palace."
"You've been there?"
"Twice. With my family. It was a museum tour."
"You know the story behind the work?" Remy asked inching closer to Erik.
"Diana was bathing with her nymphs in attendance and Actaeon was out with his hunting dogs. He accidentally saw Diana naked and she sent his own dogs after him. She punished him for his transgression. Turned him into a deer."
Erik let his fingertip touch the top of Actaeon's face transforming into a hunted stag. The head of the mythical man was all deer while the rest was still human in a dead run for his life.
"He commanded that his pack recognize him as he slowly morphed into a stag."
Ten various breeds of dogs surrounded poor Actaeon as the human and animal transformation disfigured his face.
"The gardens there are extensive," Durant said.
"Very beautiful. Like Tivoli itself."
"Well-traveled?"
"Try to be as much as I can."
Erik turned away from the sculpture and returned to the round wooden table that held the decanter of bourbon.
"More?"
A sharp-featured strawberry blonde seated on a beige double high-back chair pointed to the bourbon. She seemed amused to have Erik in her presence.
"Sure," Erik said holding his glass out to her.
Her eyes shifted from amusement to flustered surprise. She wasn't wearing pearls, but her expression sure was clutching some. Remy chuckled and Erik waited for the woman to pour.
She sat forward and lifted the decanter.
"Say when…" she said.
He let her go halfway before he held up his free hand.
"Thanks," he said. He took a big swig and turned away from her.
Vivienne's amused face beamed at him. He took a seat on a small couch and Vivienne swept over to sit with him.
There was small talk and Erik endured the irritating fishing into his past and personal life. Strawberry blonde and the raven-haired woman spoke in French, absorbed in their own world with not-so-subtle glances at Erik. He made out most of their conversation and grew bored with the idle chatter about men and parties. His focus moved back to Vivienne. She was the most beautiful woman in the room and the least invested in everyone else except for him. Her perfume tickled his nostrils.
"Anglais!" Vivienne scolded.
"Sorry," Strawberry said.
"So rude to my guest," she grumbled.
Vivienne grabbed his hand and pulled him off of the couch and moved him toward a staircase.
"We're off!" Vivienne called to her clique.
On the second floor, Erik followed Vivienne down a long hall. He glanced at more dynastic family oil paintings on the walls. He stopped at one that featured Vivienne. She stood next to him staring up at the gold-framed painting. Her father looked like a milkier Francesco, but much younger and with more hair. He had a pronounced large mouth and a weak chin. Cold gray eyes evoked a stern Monégasque aristocracy.
"My father Prince Julien, and my mother, Princess Ndaté."
Her mother was a rich warm espresso color with plump lips and a wide undefined nose with the cutest smile on her pixie face. Thick braids were twisted high on her head. Vivienne sat next to her mother on a forest green velvet settee wearing the same dark copper tea dress. Her father stood behind the settee with his hands touching his wife and daughter in a severely pressed dark suit.
"Your Moms became royalty here?"
"She was of royal descent from Senegal—"
"I have a play Aunt from Senegal."
"Oui?"
"Yeah. She's a queen to me."
"It was quite an event when they were married I am told. They met at Oxford. That's where I go to school."
"Only child?"
"Oui."
"Me too."
"Come…"
He followed her to another hall that led to a bedroom on the end.
"This your house?"
"Belongs to the family. We use it for special events. My cousins and I hide out here when we are between official duties at the palace. Unfortunately, having a father first in line to the throne makes my cousin Clara the sad puppy tonight. She had to stay behind for all the diplomatic duties."
"What's your shot at the throne?"
She cackled.
"My father is sixth in line. No chance. I will just be the speculative royal."
"A Black Princess in a white line. That's a big deal to a lot of people."
Vivienne unpinned her hair and the dark tresses fell even longer down her back.
"Close the door," she said.
Erik locked it and she stood in front of him.
"Unzip me," she demanded, her doe-like eyes seductive in the dim lighting of the room.
She turned away from him. Erik unhooked her and then zipped the dress down to her lower back.
"Merci."
She stepped out of the dress then tossed it on a pecan wood-stained rococo bed embellished with swirly scrolls and foliage fretwork. Her black silk underwear and strapless bra stayed on as she kicked off her heels. She had on sheer black thigh-high stockings and he watched her roll her hips as she walked to a delicate-looking bronze and leather Louis the Fifteenth writing desk with a matching leather chair. Her European Pops may have given her light skin and a loose curl pattern, but her African Mama most definitely gave her shelf booty and thighs for days. Her lack of modesty was much like his own when he was at home.
A chrome laptop was on the desk and Vivienne turned it on. Erik looked around the room and saw a pair of Bulgari sunglasses on a dresser. He put them on and admired his face in a dressing mirror. Her laptop powered up and she sauntered over to him. She pushed her sunglasses to the top of his head.
"I take off my clothes and you barely blink," she teased.
"I've seen a lot of bodies, Ma. Ain't no thang—"
"Ah, I saw you! Your eyes looked at my breasts just then."
He grinned.
"You're kinda spilling out there a bit."
She was.
Erik could see she had big light chestnut areolas that peeked out. Her snatched waist made her hips look wide from the front and enhanced the physical beauty that she displayed. Her eyes studied his face and she stepped closer to him. She unfastened his suit jacket and pulled it off of him, flinging it on top of her dress. He could feel her body heat.
"Get comfortable," she commanded.
Her fingers lifted and undid the first three buttons on his shirt. Erik clasped her fingers inside his hand.
"You're moving fast, girl. Don't even know me—"
"I know you're a liar," she whispered in his ear.
He frowned.
She tried stepping away from him but he held her wrists tight.
"I'm a liar?"
"You've been vetted by Tony. He doesn't just let anyone get close to him. And my Uncle hates commoners. You're not who you say you are."
He let her go. Her fingers went behind her back and she unclasped the hooks on her bra and let it fall to the floor. Her breasts dropped two inches on her chest from their heaviness, but as much as he was interested in playing with them and stretching his mouth over them, the smug look on her face had him edgy.
"Erik Stevens. American sounding name. But I've watched you. The way you walk. The way you talk and carry yourself. You remind me of my boyfriend…ex-boyfriend. You swaggered into my family's humble abode like you owned it. Even in the palace you moved around like others were beneath you or not worth your time. You don't suck up to Tony like I've seen others do. Either your family is very rich and well connected, or you have royalty in your background…oh, see? Your eyes gave you away…"
Vivienne stared at him. Some type of recognition colored her face.
"Someone in your family is from the motherland, oui? The east? It's so evident—"
"Oakland through and through, girl."
"No. Menteur. You are African. More like Halfrican…as am I."
She poked his chest.
Erik swiped the dark glasses back down over his eyes. He sat on her bed and felt his belly churn with tension. Vivienne's intuition had him shook. He tried to deflect.
"Come bring your fine ass here."
He held out his hand.
She walked over to her computer and turned on some music. He grimaced.
"I don't know what kind of mood you're trying to set, but that ain't it," he said.
He moved from the bed to her side and turned off the dreadful Europop sounds. He typed in the search engine and pulled up the M.I.T. website.
Her voice came into the room and the energy shifted.
Buttafly.
His muse.
"What is this?" Vivienne asked.
"A radio station I listen to. It streams worldwide."
"I like it."
Vivienne swayed her body, her hips circling with little dips. Her bare feet took tiny steps as she latched on to the hypnotic dreamy beats. Erik's eyes raked over her curves and the slight bounce of her tits.
"How many guys do you bring here the first time you meet them?"
"Guys? Mon doudou, do I look like I interact with guys?"
Her hands fluttered around her body.
"I only entertain the powerful and worthy."
Something within Erik stirred. Vivienne rolled her body and the music transitioned to something even more sensual.
"If the night brings you gossamer wings made of starlight and sable dreams, you better fly…"
Erik imagined moist lips with Buttafly's honey mouth whispering the words in his ear that he heard from the computer. Since he couldn't have the unseen girl of his aural fantasies on the radio, Vivienne was perfect compensation. He stepped to her and entwined his fingers with hers and shook his hips. Twirling her around to face him, Erik led Vivienne in some Chi-town two-steppin' that his grandfather taught him.
"I love this!" Vivienne squealed.
He pulled her in close and she was able to follow his lead.
"That's it, Princess," he encouraged.
She pulled the dark glasses from his eyes and tossed them on her bed as they stepped in time together. He spun and dipped adding the Oaktown drip to their partnering. Drawing her in tight, her breasts mashed into his chest and he liked the pressure she started to put on his loins as he felt his dick grow fat in his tailored slacks.
"I feel that," she sighed grinding on him.
"It's yours if you want it, Princess."
Vivienne turned and backed her ass against his groin.
"Let me be your heartbeat…"
Whatever poem Buttafly was reciting on top of the erotic beats made Vivienne gasp as she stood still and let him dry hump her ass. Erik's dick turned to iron and the heavy print beating against the split in her backside made her panties wet. His fingers stroked the front of her underwear forcefully to let her know what time it was. Her legs shook. Erik gripped her waist and held her in place as he thrust against her.
He wanted that weight bouncing on him so he pulled her back with him as he sat on the bed with her seated on his lap. She gave him what he wanted, lifting and dropping on his dick, the friction from his pants adding to the pleasure he was enjoying. He reached up and yanked on her long hair, threading his fingers through the thicker strands.
"Big ole ass…girl you know you got a big ole ass…look at you!"
Vivienne laughed and he tugged harder on her hair forcing her head back.
"Who takes care of all of this, huh? I know these white boys ain't handling you right. Look how you're acting. Your man know you wilding right now?"
"He's old news. There are other fish."
"You're sinking some hooks, Ma."
Vivienne spun around on him and straddled his thighs, her breasts sitting on his chest.
"You have protection?" she asked.
"Yeah. Will we be disturbed?"
"No."
She slid her fingers down to the last fastened buttons on his shirt and freed him from it. The skin on skin contact made his dick harder. Erik pulled out his wallet from his back pocket and fumbled for one of his condoms as she nibbled along his neck.
"I won't cause no international incident fucking a Princess will I?"
Her lips smothered his and her tongue was aggressive with his open mouth. Her kisses were desperate.
"You need me bad," he whispered in her ear as he snaked his tongue inside it.
Her greedy fingers went to work on his pants and he let her take them off along with his dark briefs.
"This is what I need," she groaned wrapping her fingers around his wood.
She stroked him nice and slow, teasing pre-cum out of his slit before she engulfed him with her lips. Resting on his elbows, Erik enjoyed watching her slather his dick with warm saliva and moans.
"Damn, baby. You know how to handle my shit. Rub them big titties on it."
Vivienne knelt down and lifted her breasts. He sandwiched his length in the deep valley of her cleavage and she interlocked her fingers together making his erection snug and secure. She rubbed her tits up and down and he had memories of Athena as he watched his dick disappear. He fingered around her areolas and tugged on her nipples.
"Nasty girl…just met me and got my dick like this. You like being a good slut?"
Vivienne lunged for his mouth and they kissed until the throbbing in the root of his dick made him antsy for pussy. He wasn't sure how much privacy they really would have, so he didn't want to waste time eating the box and then being interrupted without having a crack at royal walls. She seemed to be hot for his erection right away too. He could taste her folds after he pounded her good and proper. It was time for royal fucking and he planned on giving her Wakandan Prince dick.
Buttafly was providing the soundtrack he needed to serenade Vivienne into submission. She was about to quench the female drought he was experiencing. He tore open the gold magnum condom wrapper and slipped the rubber down his thick inches. The bed didn't feel sturdy to him so he pulled her over to the solid-looking cream vintage chaise lounge.
"Wait," she whispered and quickly walked to a door he thought was an ornate closet but was actually a bathroom.
She came back with a dark towel and spread it on the lounge. Erik sat down and helped her climb back onto his lap. They kissed once more and she moaned into his throat as he gave her deep soul kisses. He held the back of her neck and plundered her lusty mouth until she was whimpering.
"Fuck me," she begged.
"You want this dick?"
The mewling sound from her voice made him so horny. It was obvious they both hadn't had it in a long time. He didn't give her time to pull her panties off or slide them to the side. He just ripped them off and tossed the scraps on the floor. Gripping the bottom of her ass cheeks and lifting her up, she eased down on his length with only two adjustments with the angle. His abundant size didn't bother her at all. She was so wet that he knew she could slide down even more inches if he had them. Feeling more confident after a few false starts and gripping the back of the lounge for balance, Vivienne started dropping her pussy on him forcing harsh cursing to erupt from his mouth.
"You really tryna break a nigga in!"
"MMMhmmm."
"Okay, Princess. Big ole heavy ass…big heavy ass!"
He slapped her butt and the solid sound made his balls jump.
"Fuck me…fuck me, Princess. Ride that bitch…ride that bitch. Damn you got some weight on that shit."
She knew how to move and shook what her Mama gave her and then some. The clapping of cheeks was so loud that Erik just knew that everyone had to be able to hear it downstairs. She twisted her waist and circled her hips to make that shit even louder and his mouth fell open trying to inhale more air to keep up with her. He jackhammered into her until the music settled him down and he got caught up in a rhythm that had her begging him to wreck her shit for all time. She stopped speaking English then, and her breathy French made his mouth filthy talking back to her. He slid his fingers along her thigh-high stockings.
"Damn, Princess!"
Vivienne turned her body to the side and rested her head on the back of the lounge as she watched Erik's face next to hers. She rode the first four inches on the top of his dick and the sensation of her circling that tight box on him without going all the way down made him press his feet hard into the carpeted floor.
She had his face all scrunched up as he stared into her eyes. Her mouth was open and spilling more moans.
"Fuck me, Princess. Just like that…just like that. Got this big ass clapping!"
"Oui…oui…oui…"
"Fuck me…fuck me…take some more girl…go all the way down. Don't be scared. Fuck me good…take some more. You can get more in there…shit yeah…I like that shit…all the way down. Dassit…more…lemme stretch that shit more…fuck…oh fuck…there it is. Riding the tip so good, baby. Dassit…dassit, Princess. All the way down…all the way bitch…yeah…let a real nigga handle you…mmmmm…"
He pulled out and her eyes looked confused.
"Turn over. Get on your knees."
He forced Vivienne to clutch onto the armrest as he took her from behind.
"Spread them cheeks with your hands…I said spread them. Don't make me fucking repeat myself!"
Erik slapped the shit out of her ass and her body jerked from the punishment. Her hands reached back and pulled her ass cheeks apart for him. Her head rested on the cushion.
"Poke that ass out…dassit. Arch that back for me. Good girl. Make that pussy tight for me. Make it hard for me to get in this shit."
He inserted the bulbous head in and he felt her pushing her vaginal muscles against him.
"Yeah! Just like that! Make it hard for me to get in there…c'mon girl! Fuck!"
Vivienne's head angled back to watch his face.
"Fuck me….please…fuck me hard…" she panted.
"Hold them cheeks open!"
Her pussy was frothy and the creamy fluid dribbled down her thighs every time he pulled out to thrust back in fast.
"Nobody been taking care of this pussy."
"…fuck me, Erik…."
"Ain't no Oxford niggas available to break you off?"
She laughed and it died in her throat when he deep stroked her. He held her left arm back to help him get down deeper. He wasn't going to last.
"Loud pussy, girl…"
Her eyes squeezed shut and her mouth stayed lax.
"Oh…oh…oh…oh…"
"Get it, girl! Getcho dick!"
Vivienne clutched onto the armrest with her free hand and lifted up. He released her arm and she rode his dick by rocking back on him with her hands resting on her thighs.
"Do that…do that…" he hissed.
"Erik!"
"…finna nut…"
Her pussy made obscene farting noises and he let loose into the condom.
"Fuucckkkkkk!"
He fell over her back and gripped her shoulders, kissing the side of her face.
"Fucking icy, Princess!" he panted.
He lifted up feeling the hardness in his dick still holding out.
"I ain't forgot you, Ma."
Erik made her turn over and he lifted her legs over his arms and put in work. It didn't take long for her to fall apart all over his dick before he had to grab the base of his length to keep the condom from slipping as he became flaccid.
Vivienne ran her hand across the top of her hair and grinned from ear to ear.
"That was…mon Dieu…" she sighed.
She reached up and caressed his face.
"Are you using your wings? Are you flying above the world Black angel….?"
Buttafly's voice calmed the rapid beating in his heart from the physical exertion. Vivienne took his hand and pulled him onto her bed.
"Viens mon amour," she whispered.
###
They used all of his condoms.
Three in total.
Vivienne was insatiable and he gave it his all until he fell asleep. He awoke to find the two pitch-black Great Danes sleeping on the floor at the foot of the bed. When Erik stood up to go urinate, both dogs growled at him, their big ears tall on their heads like radar.
"Chut!" Vivienne hissed.
Both dogs backed down and rested their heads on their large paws.
Dressed in a fluffy ginger-colored robe, Vivienne sat on the bed with her laptop in front of her crossed legs.
"Morning," he said.
"Good morning to you. Sleep well?"
"Yeah. What time is it?"
"One—"
"Shit!"
"Don't worry. Tony knows you're still with me. I called him earlier. You don't have to be back until tonight."
"I have to be with your uncle."
"I know. Take a shower. Everything you need is in the bathroom. Are you hungry? I had lunch brought up since you slept through breakfast."
She pointed to a covered silver serving tray on the writing desk. There was fresh juice and water in glass pitchers with glasses.
"Be right back," he said.
Erik showered and pulled on a thick black robe that covered him down to his feet. A brand new toothbrush with individual toothpaste was sitting on the sink next to an unopened travel size deodorant roll. Stepping back into the bedroom, the two dogs watched him closely but didn't move or growl at him.
"Let them out before you eat anything. They will beg and it is so annoying."
Erik walked past the Great Danes and unlocked the bedroom door. They lifted their heads and Erik whistled. They jumped up and he shooed them out closing the door behind them.
Padding over to the serving tray, Erik lifted the cover and found ham omelets with cheese, resting on top of a large croissant with a side of diced mixed fruit and small finger sandwiches. He nibbled on a grape and poured himself water.
"Merde!" Vivienne snapped.
Her fingers flew across the keyboard. She glared at her screen.
"What do you want?!"
Her voice was annoyed. Erik tossed another grape into his mouth and drank some water.
"You refuse to take my calls. You make me hunt you down from the palace to your family chateau. I will not tolerate your disrespect!"
Erik froze.
The hairs on the back of his neck rose and his fingers shook so bad that he had to put his glass of water down. He stepped away from the writing desk and walked carefully to the bed, his eyes narrowing and the breath in his body moving rapidly in his chest.
That voice.
It couldn't be.
"T'Challa, we are no more. I told you that when I left—"
"You said we were just taking a step back to evaluate our relationship…who the fuck is that?!"
Blazing dark orbs burned into Erik's face. The hard scowl on T'Challa's mouth matched the one on Erik's own lips.
"That is my friend—"
"Friend? He is wearing a robe—"
"Hey, Princess. We have lunch waiting for us. Hang up."
"No one asked you to speak—"
"I'm talking, nigga and I'm digging out your bitch!"
"Vivienne!"
T'Challa's shout made Vivienne jump. Her eyes darted between them.
"He is a guest, T'Challa. We have a lot of guests here. There was a party last night—"
"You ain't gotta explain shit to him. Hang up!"
"If you hang up. I swear to Bast I will—"
"Do what?" Erik challenged.
Vivienne's eyes grew coy. She brushed her hair back over her shoulder and gave T'Challa a sly smile. She was enjoying it.
"We can talk when I get back."
"We shall talk now. Make him leave!"
Erik plopped down on the bed next to Vivienne and picked up her dark glasses. Pulling them on he placed his face close to the screen. T'Challa's eyes reminded Erik of his father's. For a second, N'Jobu's face loomed in his mind. Staring at his cousin, seeing the dark smooth skin, the flared nostrils, and hearing the haughty entitled voice, Baba was forced into his heart. Not only could Erik see his father in T'Challa's face, but he could see his own too. It was in the eyes. Those damn haunting Udaku eyes. No wonder Vivienne pegged him for royalty. She was fucking his cousin and unknowingly recognized the bloodline. Incredible.
"Where are you going?" Vivienne called out.
Erik stalked to the bedroom door.
"I have to get some air."
"Eat some food—"
"Vivienne!"
"T'Challa stop screaming at me! You'll see me when I let you!"
She slammed the laptop shut and jumped off the bed.
"Erik…Erik…what's wrong?"
Anger coursed through his body and made it rigid as the Princess wrapped her arms around his.
"I was being petty. I shouldn't have taken the chat. Not with you here. He's such an arrogant ass all the time—"
Erik lifted her up and crashed his lips onto her mouth.
Carrying her back to the bed, he pushed her laptop to the side and dropped her on the plush lavender duvet. Snatching off her robe he threw it behind him. Her eyes were ablaze as she watched him disrobe. His dick was ramrod straight and pointed toward her. He fisted the head and when he glanced at his wallet on the nightstand, he remembered he had no more condoms.
"Do you have anything?" he asked. His fingers twirled around the underside ridge of the tip.
She heard the desperate need in his voice. Her head shook and he couldn't hide his disappointment.
"Here," she said spreading her legs.
The faint pubic hairs on her plump mound were already damp and her vulva was swollen, the inner lips wide open revealing glistening pink.
"You sure?"
She lifted her legs up high.
Erik lined himself up with her.
"He wants you back," he said.
"He has to learn to deserve me."
"He don't deserve you. He doesn't deserve shit."
He plunged into Vivienne full over reckless venom. He wasn't gentle and she didn't want him to be.
"…ooh…mon dieu…ahhh…mon dieu…Erik…!"
He put his full weight on her and she clawed his back.
"Oh…oh…oh…oohmmmph…oui…oui…oui…"
He slammed into her, his length splitting her open wide, his aggression overwhelming her. She cried out in pleasure and he pushed her legs all the way back and shifted to his knees so he could break her down.
"You go back to Oxford, he gon' feel this dick!"
"Oui!"
Reckless. Piping her raw. Needing to stretch her out so she would remember him. The indignant anger in his cousin's voice aroused the alpha within himself and he pounded the fuck out of Vivienne to get back at his blood. If he couldn't bust that spoiled bastard in the face with his fist, then he was going to bust his woman down with his dick.
Erik fucked most of the sound out of Vivienne. She couldn't even make coherent words anymore. Her eyes were glued to his with her lips parted in sweet agony. Every few seconds a deep groan would spill from her throat. He kept the pace brutal and she was game for it.
"Hold your damn legs, bitch!"
Vivienne reached up and curved her hands under her thighs and held them in place as he gripped her throat with one hand and held onto the headboard with the other.
"OOooohhh!"
The vibration in her throat was felt in his hand and he pulled all the way out just to thrust back in to hit that bottom of her pussy hard. Her eyes rolled back and shut as tears spilled from her lids. He eased his grip from her neck to allow her more air but she pushed his hand back down harder.
"This my pussy now. Right?"
Her eyes popped open and her breasts bounced distracting him. He reached down and felt all over her chest as she thrashed under him. He plucked at her clit before rotating firm circles into the small nub.
"I'm cumming!" she shouted.
Erik watched her pussy contract around his girth and before she went limp in his arms, he pulled his shiny erection out and stroked it until stringy hot ropes of semen spurt all over her belly.
"Princess!" he choked out.
He milked out all that his balls could give and Vivienne smeared it into her skin. Gulping for air, Erik sat back from her. When he was able to breathe normally, he searched for his clothes and got dressed.
"You won't eat?" she asked.
"I need to get back to the hotel and get ready for tonight."
Disappointment turned her face sour.
"You have plenty of time."
He glanced out of the window. It was snowing again.
"So unusual," she whispered staring at the falling flakes with him.
"Do I need to call a car service?"
"Gaspar will take you where you need to go. Won't you stay longer, Erik? Please?"
Her face was lovely with the glow of their rough sex. Erik hated the man's guts but he had to admit that his cousin had great taste in women.
He sat on the edge of the bed and put on his shoes.
"How long you been with that nigga?"
"T'Challa? We've been on and off for two years."
"You love him?"
"I do. I'm not in love with him though. He makes that difficult."
"How?"
"He only loves himself and some other woman back in his country."
"Where is he from?"
"Wakanda."
"Have you ever been there?"
"No. It's a poor country and I don't do poor. He won't take me there anyway."
"Why not?"
She shrugged.
"He makes excuses. His family is well off. I think his father is a despot. He's been in power forever."
"He have any siblings?"
"A little sister."
This was news to him.
"What's her name?"
"Aren't you a curious one?"
"Sizing up my competition."
"Her name is Shuri. He's crazy about her. Brags about her all the time."
"Have you met his father?"
"King T'Chaka is T'Challa times ten."
She laughed. He tried to smile. His stomach was tight.
"I met him in London once. With T'halla's stepmother Queen Ramonda."
"He re-married…." Erik pondered the information. Another heir. And a wife that could get in the way.
"You know about them?"
"What?"
"You said 'She re-married'. Like that was important to you."
"Nah. Just curious. He seems so uptight."
"He can be a delight…when he gets his way."
"Why do you need a break from him?"
"He's intense. Like you. That can grow tiresome. But the sex is worth it."
She fell onto her back and stared at the ceiling.
"Thank God you both weren't in the same room. It was like watching two male Betta fish circle each other. The expression on his face though when you wouldn't leave! He's never been denied anything in his life!"
Erik stood from the bed. Vivienne crawled over to him and sat up on her knees holding out her arms. He kissed her lips but didn't hug her. She pouted.
"C'mon now, I can't get cum on my clothes."
She sat back on her heels.
"I enjoyed your company," she said.
"I enjoyed yours."
"Can I see you again?" she asked.
"Depends on Tony. We're here a few more days then it's back to L.A."
"I want you to call me."
"If I can. I will—"
"No. You call me. Or I will kidnap you again."
She cradled her breasts.
"You're the one who's spoiled," he said.
She didn't deny it.
###
The private room in the private Gentlemen's club reeked of pungent cigars, cognac, and tired old man cologne doused too liberally on pale pampered skin.
Erik tugged on the tie he had to wear wishing he had some good weed to smoke to help him focus. Tony sat near him cradling a Cuban cigar. The room was filled with high rollers from Saudi Arabia, China, Australia, Argentina, and South Africa. The card table and the dealer was set with chips. They all waited for Prince Francesco. He was late.
Erik's leg began to bounce and Tony kicked the bottom of his chair to make him stop.
"Forgive us!"
The Prince strolled in and Erik was surprised to see Princess Vivienne behind him. They both took seats at the poker table. He couldn't hide the delighted smile on his face when the Princess looked up and saw him sitting across from her.
"My niece, Princess Vivienne. I know the rules say men only, but I couldn't deny you all a chance to play with the best."
Small head bows were given to Vivienne but her eyes were only on Erik's.
The moment all their hands were dealt and bets were wagered, Erik learned the hard way. Never judge a book by its cover.
Princess Vivienne cleaned everyone's clock during the first two games, and as his pile of chips dwindled, Erik knew then that it was going to be a long night.