A/N: I might be cooking up a playlist. Might post on my tumblr (same as my FF handle) and in the chapter after this one. Send song suggestions if you have anything in mind.
Before they left for the airport, Viktor pulled Klara aside, wanting a private moment with her. Klara was under the impression he was going to try to get a quickie in, her hands reached for the buttons of her grey coat, but his intentions were different. He stopped her hands with his own, gently pulling them away from her waist and simply holding them for a moment, taking in her pretty, puzzled face with a glimmer of amusement in his eyes.
"I have something for you." Viktor spoke softly, freeing her hands and reaching into his pocket, pulling out a velvet box and opening it to reveal a ring.
The ring's opulence was awe inspiring, the ten carat gem matched that of the large heirloom ring he wore, surrounded by sparkling clear diamonds, all rested on top of a pure gold setting and filigree band. "This ring has been in the Konigsburg line for over one hundred and fifty years. The green diamond came from Brazil in what's now a uranium mine the family still owns." He took her left hand and held it up, sliding the exquisite ring on her finger. Klara gasped, transfixed on how the diamonds sparkled in the soft light. Something so priceless, something with history, something undoubtedly paid for in blood, was now hers. "Wear it so the world knows you're mine." It was as much a command as it was a plea. Klara felt herself warm under the intensity of his gaze, her heart beat like a hummingbird's in her chest.
"I will." Klara promised. "Thank you... I don't know what to say." The band fit perfectly, but the gems felt awkward and heavy on her finger, it would take getting used to. If she didn't feel like an imposter before, she did now.
Meanwhile, Viktor's opinion of his wife couldn't be more different. Klara looked elegant, well dressed, priceless jewels sparkling on her finger, her hair fell past her shoulders in soft curls. She looked rather convincing as a royal, even if she was the gentlest looking of them all, a swell of pride filled Viktor's chest. It would be their first outing as husband and wife, even with the somewhat secretive nature of the trip, rumors would start flying among the aristocracy and adjacent circles if they hadn't already.
Taking her in a private jet would be another step in getting Klara accustomed to a life of luxury. Viktor already knew that Klara was corruptible, and after growing up with so little, she would be receptive to the comfort and opulence he provided her, even as she modestly denied wanting such things, she embraced everything he had given her so far.
All the better to keep her at his side, it took a willpower and moral compass much stronger than her's to leave such a lavish lifestyle by choice.
"Don't say anything more." Viktor instructed.
He wasn't sure if he kissed her or she kissed him, what he did know is that it was intimate, not so filled with lust, his mind taking note of the softness of her cheek underneath his hand rather than how her breasts pressed up against the flat of his chest. Her small hands smoothed up his chest, grabbing his shirt when she stumbled a little in her heels, accidentally breaking the kiss.
"Sorry."
"Don't apologize, we need to get going anyways. Are you ready, my dear?" Viktor asked. Klara nodded and allowed her husband to lead her out to the black Mercedes that would be taking them to the airport.
Klara wasn't too surprised when she found out they wouldn't be going through airport security, she imagined that the ultra wealthy were permitted to skip the obnoxious ritual. The car drove to a jet with several people waiting for them, all dressed in dark colors and clothes suited for Oregon.
Verrat, Klara assumed, trying to not let it bother her.
Viktor lead Klara onto the plane, their luggage soon to follow.
Viktor's ego was stroked by his young wife's awe of the private jet and its high class, minimalist style. She babbled sweetly on about how incredible it was in comparison to the cramped seating and bags of pretzels in economy. After take off, Klara entered the private bedroom and decided to change into something more comfortable for the flight.
"Seeing as many of us haven't slept in the last twenty-four hours, I suggest you take the opportunity to rest now." Viktor ordered his men, approaching the bedroom and rapping on the door with two knuckles. "Klara?"
"I'm decent." Klara opened the door for Viktor and allowed him in, she had her hair clipped up and wore a modest and comfortable pajama set, simple but well-made.
"I haven't seen you in pants for a while." Viktor wasn't subtle as his gaze swept up and down her body, finding the way her ass was starting to devour the fabric and showing off each cheek surprisingly alluring. He never liked pants on women, but he could make an exception for these.
"I wanted something comfortable to just wear around, I brought these on the plane so I wouldn't have to worry too much about others seeing me."
"I'm having quite a hard time not looking at you." Viktor told her, shrugging off his overcoat and jacket, lazily hanging them up before removing his shoes and laying down on the bed.
"What?"
"Look in the mirror." Viktor told her as he loosened his tie and undid a few buttons on his shirt.
Klara turned to the full length mirror, checking her front before turning her body around and understanding what he was talking about.
"This always happens and I don't even realize it." Klara sighed. "I have a robe that comes with the set, so I can cover up." Klara bent down to look through her luggage before her husband asked sharply.
"What are you doing?" Viktor noticed the graceful way she bent over, so well-trained, so effortless and flexible.
"Getting my robe." Klara answered, sounding more like she was asking a question.
"You won't be needing it right now, it's just us." Viktor smiled when she rose back up and walked away from her suitcase.
"Can you dance?" It was a question that came to Viktor's mind as quickly as he asked it.
"I did ballet when I was-"
"I'm not talking about ballet." He chuckled. "I'm talking about all those delightfully slutty dances girls do these days."
"I went clubbing back in college before I met my ex." Klara told him truthfully, she liked clubbing, her ex, being the more socially conscious and academic type, did not.
"The room is soundproof." Viktor assured her before pulling out his phone, typing something. "You'd be surprised how many bedrooms in private jets aren't." Viktor placed his phone on the nightstand.
The music that came out of the mediocre speaker wasn't the sort of bass boosted stuff that all blended together that Klara expected. It was some sort of Spanish inspired rock song, with notes of an acoustic Spanish guitar making the song sensual as it was intense.
"This isn't the kind of music you hear in clubs." Klara pointed out as she unclipped her hair.
"It should be, as much as I love the dancing, I can't stand the music, women don't need to have an overpowering bass line guiding their every move."
"Maybe they aren't trying to impress dirty old men who hate overpowering bass lines." Klara teased him as she started swaying her hips to the music, getting a feel for what she was listening to.
"You'd be surprised." Viktor said with a smirk, watching transfixed as she danced.
Her hips rolled, she had control over the muscles in her ribcage, her top half gracefully snaking independently of her hips. The movements of her arms didn't match the seamlessness of her body, so she occupied them with slowly removing her clothing. Her thumbs looped around the waistband of her pants, slowly dragging it down until it caught under her ass, using the waistband to bounce the flesh before letting them fall to the floor, making Viktor growl at the sight. Klara rolled her hips, rotating her body to face her husband, unable to take her eyes off of his when she saw the hunger in them, he looked like he could pounce at any moment, especially if she took her eyes off him. She removed her top, leaving her in nothing but a white cotton thong.
Klara sashayed to the bed, laying at the opposite side, giggling when Viktor grabbed and pulled her flush against him, the song ended, perfectly timed.
"You are full of surprises." Viktor drawled before kissing her, humming as his hands explored the near-naked expanse of her body, so warm and soft against his mostly clothed body like she was still his little subservient fucktoy who needed to say her 'yes, pleases' and 'yes, sirs' to him.
She was starting to get a little sassy in other parts of their lives outside of the bedroom, which Viktor was forced to acknowledge as a good thing, that she was starting to settle into her place, by his side as crown princess. She reminded him of how a spirited young princess not yet in finishing school might act, always asking questions, presenting ideas, all informed by the naive view of a girl untainted by how the world really worked.
It was the only thing keeping him from punishing his wife for openly criticizing and mocking him in front of his right hand.
Instead, he'd let her grind her pretty cunt against his hand. He wanted her nice and wet so he could fuck her properly and get the both of them to sleep.
"You shouldn't have worn a white thong if you didn't want that wet spot displayed, good god you're dripping." Viktor looped his fingers around the strappy waistband, slowly pulling it down and discarding it, returning his hand to her cunt, just letting her rub her slick, needy pussy against it, the pair lost in each other's eyes.
"Have you ever had this hole of yours filled?" Viktor's pinky finger teased at her ass, the slick from her cunt lubricating the hole so well his pinky even nudged inside a little, making Klara gasp and shudder.
"Yeah, once. I didn't like it... it hurt." Klara struggled to say.
"Don't worry, princess, I'm not going to fuck you there now, but when we get back, I think some anal training is in order, that wedding ring isn't the only glittery thing I've had waiting for you."
"What's the other glittery- oh. " Klara's eyes widened when she realized what he was talking about, her cheeks flushed violently. "I've never used-"
"Are all common men that boring?" Viktor asked. "No wonder sex is easy to come by for royalty, you poor little common sluts are starved. " Viktor effortlessly slid two fingers into his wife's leaking pussy.
"I don't know." Klara said weakly.
"Don't worry, wife, I'll make you into the finest, most decadent libertine." Viktor let out a prolonged moan when she clenched around his fingers, his cock painfully hard and straining his trousers. "We have a lifetime to find all the little things that make you squirm."
He abruptly pulled his fingers out of her, earning a whine and a pouty face. He sucked one of his fingers before offering the other up to her, letting her suck and lick it clean.
"Take my clothes off, I can't have you ruining them the way I let you at home." He chuckled as he reminisced the times she had ruined his suits before. He would have let her ruin this one if they weren't about to go threaten his bastard cousin with death and kidnap his baby.
Klara carefully removed her husband's clothes, even taking care to hang them up in her sex-filled haze. When her husband was nude, she bent over and arched her back, glistening pussy on alluring display.
Viktor didn't hesitate, giving her a proper fucking so she'd remember her initiation into the mile high club for years to come. He remembered his own initiation, sixteen and with another woman from the aristocracy.
He refocused his attention on his wife, dwelling in that part of his past still stung, and it stung even more now that he realized he could-
"Viktor, pull my hair please!"
She now had his full attention, and his fingers curling around the hair at her scalp, pulling her head back and fucking her even harder.
He couldn't be thinking about that.
He couldn't be thinking about her.
He was surprised he hadn't before now.
He needed to make his young wife cum, his funny, common wife who somehow was worth more than the gems on her finger, the plane they were riding in, the couture on their backs, and the properties he owned.
"I love you, darling." The words escaped his lips of their own accord as he came back down to earth. His shame was that he wasn't sure who he said them for.
His wife didn't reply to him, she was too much of a moaning mess to, but her cunt fluttered and gripped around him, milking him for what he was worth.
Viktor stayed in place for a moment, trying to process what had just happened. His hand released her hair, tracing up her spine, wrapping around her waist and repositioning her so she lay curled up in his arms.
"Viktor?" Klara asked minutes later.
"Yes, darling?" Viktor replied, hoping she had collected herself enough to tell him that she loved him in return.
"What's a hexenbiest?" Klara asked. "You said it could wait... and I've waited."
It took all of Viktor's efforts to not show his disappointment, perhaps confirming his confession was for her.
"Yes, you were very patient." Viktor complimented her. "A hexenbiest is essentially a witch wesen, they woge into what's basically a mummified or decayed human. They're magic users, but over the centuries, the families have found ways to deal with them."
"So Adalind and Sean are witches?"
"Essentially, the males are called Zauberbiests, generally less gifted in magic."
"So the baby is going to be a witch?" Klara asked incredulously. Kidnapping a witch baby sounded like the worst idea in the world.
"Most wesen don't present until they're about thirteen."
"How is this going to effect our child?" Klara looked away from her husband. "I don't like the implications of this."
"The child will almost certainly be raised by the King. Once I've gotten to the bottom of Eric's murder, I have every intention of leaving Kronenburg Castle for an extended period of time. As wonderful as it's been to reside there after years of being away, I've grown accustomed to modern comforts."
"Where did you live before?" Klara asked.
"Mostly London and Vienna. I could give you a tour of all my properties, quite a few thresholds I need to carry my wife over." He said, making Klara chuckle, she'd make him honor that promise.
"London wasn't what I expected it when I first visited." Klara revealed.
"No, I imagine it wasn't. TV has a way of glamorizing it. You'd like Edinburgh though, everyone unimpressed by London finds what they're looking for there."
"I think I just want to go to the country for a while." Klara said. "Somewhere more peaceful and less engrossed in politics and wesen and whatever else is waiting to surprise me and change the way I see the world."
"That can be arranged." Viktor knew the country would be good for Klara, especially during the spring and summer. He'd take her to Alpbach to see the flowers bloom.
"Viktor?"
"Yes?"
"There's food on private jets, right?"
"Yes, and none of it stale packs of pretzels like you mentioned earlier."
"Would it be outrageous to want steak?" Klara had no idea what private jet kitchens were capable of. Her craving for something meaty and juicy hit her like a train, her baby already was spoiled and demanding.
"Not at all." Viktor reached for his phone on the nightstand and texted something. "How do you like it done?"
"Medium rare."
"Done." Viktor said when he pressed send.
"Thank you." Klara said with a kiss. "Baby's demanding."
"As it should be, you have a little prince or princess in you." He placed his hand on her belly. "Perhaps one of each."
"No thanks, I'm just fine with having them one at a time." Klara said with a giggle. "My mom did the whole 'two under two' thing and it just seems overwhelming."
"You'll have plenty of help, I assure you."
"I'm mostly talking physically overwhelming." Klara admitted. "More pain, more potential complications, that sort of thing."
"You will have the finest care the world can offer."
Klara didn't say anything else, smiling and affectionately nuzzling Viktor. He looked tired, too tired to be listening to her, but he did anyways. After her meal, she joined him in a deep sleep, full and satisfied in more ways than one, feeling a sense of security she hadn't felt for a while.
"I love you too." She breathed out, half conscious.