Princely Submission by K.C. Wells
Chapter Twenty-Two
The last night
Jordan lay in Stuart’s arms, their last hours together slowly ticking by. He should have been asleep—both of them should have been—but it seemed an age since they’d switched off the light. His head was on Stuart’s chest while he listened to his heart beat.
My bed at home will seem so empty after this.
It was inevitable that thoughts of home consumed him. The last few days, it felt as though time had mocked him, gathering speed when all Jordan wanted was for it to slow down, to allow him to relish every moment, to burn them into his memory.
So many memories…
“This trip has been momentous,” he murmured.
Stuart stroked his arm. “Your first time away from home… not all that surprising.”
Jordan reached out and flicked the switch on the lamp beside his bed. He lay on his side, his head in his hand, drinking in the sight of Stuart’s bare chest, his powerful shoulders, the curve of his muscles. The white sheet that covered them both was pushed down to his hips, and Jordan knew if he slid his hand beneath it, his fingers would encounter Stuart’s stiffening dick: the sheet twitched even as his gaze passed over it. Jordan brushed a finger over Stuart’s nipple, anticipating his shudder.
I know what makes him shiver, what makes him moan…
“That’s not what I mean. So much has changed…” Jordan sighed. “When I left Elloria, all I could think of was sex.”
The lamp’s warm light was reflected in Stuart’s eyes. He smiled. “Pretty understandable, given the circumstances.”
Jordan threw aside all idea of sleep. These moments were too precious to waste on slumber. “Before I came here, I had an idea of how my life would go, and I dreaded it. I knew I’d be married to some countess or princess or…” His stomach clenched. “I wanted to get so much out of this trip, because it felt as if it was the last chance I’d get before everyone started expecting things of me.”
Stuart stroked his hip with a light touch. “And now?”
“I felt safer, knowing my secret was out, and my parents were happy with my sexuality. And then I had a conversation with my mother.” That morning by the pond had been an eye-opener. “She started talking about marriage equality here in the US. And I knew she was talking about Elloria’s future. She said as much, that she was paving the way for when I met someone I could spend the rest of my life with. And that was when I knew my life would be very different from the one I’d envisaged.”
Stuart bit his lip, his forehead wrinkling.
Jordan caressed his cheek, his fingertips straying lower to stroke his beard. “What is it?”
“I had a conversation with your father, the night of the ball in New York. We were talking about the line of succession, and how his ideas for the future of Elloria had undergone a shift, now that you were out. He said it went beyond accepting that Elloria’s future king would be gay. He spoke of not presuming to choose a partner for you—and of the continuation of the royal family. There was even a hint at surrogacy.”
Jordan stared at him, his eyebrows arched. “He spoke to you of all this?”
“Yes.”
His heartbeat raced. “Then that is an indication of how much my father trusts you, if he takes you so deeply into his confidence. But Mother got me thinking. Marriage equality, LGBTQ rights… these are things I want for Elloria,” he said in a firm voice.
Stuart’s smile reached his eyes. “Whereas you couldn’t have cared less about them before this trip. You were content to live the life of a spoiled rich prince, with no cares for the future.”
Jordan gaped. “Spoiled?” Stuart’s only response was to gaze elsewhere, whistling, and he laughed. “You’re right, of course. I see now that as the prince, I can change things for the better. So when I get home, my life will no longer be days spent sprawled in a chair in the library, bored to tears. My life will have meaning.” He raised his chin and looked Stuart in the eye. “I’m going to make sure it does.”
Stuart regarded him thoughtfully. “As the prince, you have the opportunity to not only bring about change, but to let others see your example.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m sure you learned about HIV in your studies.”
Jordan frowned. “My tutor didn’t cover that, but I researched it.” His chest felt heavy. “So terrible, so many deaths.”
“And that’s why sexually active gay men should get tested on a regular basis. We have clinics where you can just walk in, give a sample of blood, and within hours or days, you know your status.”
“We have no such places. At least, I don’t think we have. Maybe they do exist, but are not openly discussed or advertised.”
Stuart nodded. “And now we have pills that can help prevent HIV. Maybe that’s something else to think about. But where I was going with this was… lead by example. Bringing about marriage equality, establishing rights… these are all good things. But you can be a role model. What you do will speak volumes. You can talk about these things, encourage tolerance, understanding… show them that love is love.”
Jordan’s stomach fluttered. “I see now why my father confided in you.” Except what Jordan felt for Stuart went way beyond admiration. He bit his lip. “You know I like older men, don’t you?
Stuart chuckled. “I had worked that out, yes. There were enough clues.”
“About Drake…I didn’t choose him because of his age—well, not wholly.” His heart pounded. “I chose him because he looks like you.” Stuart’s breathing hitched, but Jordan didn’t break eye contact. “Except there is so much more to you than the way you look. And you have to know you’ve set the bar high.”
Stuart’s brow furrowed. “I don’t understand.”
Jordan took a deep breath. “I want my future consort to be as much like you as it is possible to be.” He knew his words danced around the truth, but he couldn’t say what lay on his heart.
Stuart expelled a long breath. “I’m flattered.” He cupped Jordan’s chin. “I don’t have to tell you I’m going to miss you, do I?”
He smiled. “Maybe I want to hear the words.”
Stuart rolled onto his back, taking Jordan with him. He held Jordan’s head between his hands, looking into his eyes. “I’m going to miss you.”
Jordan’s heart had never been heavier. “I’ll miss you too. I think we can both admit I was more than just an assignment.”
Stuart swallowed, and it was a rare moment of vulnerability. “So much more.”
Tell him. He’s always saying you should say what’s on your mind, so tell him.
Jordan seized hold of the hope that had been burning inside him for the last three days. “And if I were to ask you to leave your job, to come with me to Elloria…”
Stuart’s eyes widened, and his voice shook a little. “Jordan, I… That’s not how the world works, sweetheart.”
The unexpected endearment made Jordan’s heart ache. “But why couldn’t it? What’s to stop us from being together?”
Stuart let out a strangled cry of frustration. “I admire your belief in a world where stories like ours have a happy ending, but… Just because you’re a prince doesn’t mean things will go the way you want. You don’t get to rewrite the rules.”
Jordan stilled. “It doesn’t take a prince to effect real change. All it needs is the right choice, affirmative action…” He swallowed hard. “Am I ever going to see you again?”
“I can’t answer that.”
Jordan had never felt so empty. “Hold me?” And then he knew how he wanted their final night to end. “I need to feel you inside me one more time.”
Stuart nodded. “I want that too.”
It was as if Stuart had looked into Jordan’s heart, because the minutes that followed were unlike any of their previous encounters. No frantic pounding, no spanking, just the two of them moving together in sinuous, sensual harmony. Jordan rode Stuart’s cock with a slow back-and-forth motion, his dick leaking pre-cum as he rocked gently, his hands on Stuart’s chest, his gaze locked on Stuart’s.
He lost track of time as Stuart cradled his head, sliding in and out of him with long, fluid strokes, their lips meeting in kiss after kiss. Jordan’s leg rested on Stuart’s shoulder as they made love, his hand on his slick cock, striving to hold his orgasm at bay. And when Stuart came inside him, Jordan clenched hard, rewarded with a heartfelt groan that echoed his own.
His final spend was into Stuart’s mouth as Stuart fingered him, and Jordan arched up from the bed, letting loose a cry of both ecstasy and heartache. Once Stuart had cleaned them both with a warm damp washcloth, he pulled Jordan into his arms and held him close.
No more words.
Rhys placed Stuart’s soda and lime on the bar. “I hope you realize how honored you are. I don’t get up before midday for just anyone. And usually ten o’clock only comes around once in my schedule.”
Stuart snickered. “I appreciate it.” He waited while Rhys ducked under the bar and grabbed his own glass, then followed him to the nearest table, where they sat. It was strange to see the bar empty and quiet.
Rhys yawned and rubbed his eyes. “So today’s the big day, huh? He flies home?”
Stuart nodded. “With a stop in New York to refuel, and to let me off the plane.” He took a long drink. “They’re doing some last-minute sightseeing before we leave this afternoon.” Jordan hadn’t wanted to go, but Stuart had the impression he felt guilty about them spending so much time together.
Stuart had been waiting for the king and queen to say something about that, but nothing had materialized. They’re not stupid. They had to know something was going on.
“And then you lose your boy toy.” Rhys cocked his head. “Except he’s much more than that, isn’t he?”
Stuart remained silent. Rhys didn’t need his confirmation anyway.
Rhys sighed heavily. “Buddy, I thought we talked about this. If you’re not happy doing what you’re doing, then quit.”
Stuart jerked his head up. “And do what, exactly?”
“Go after him, you moron.”
Stuart counted to five before responding. “Suppose I do just that. What do you think is going to happen? I walk away from my job—my well-paid job, I might add—fly to Elloria, stroll into the palace, get down on one knee, and ask him to marry me? Does this… fantasy of yours end up with me as consort to the King of Elloria, living Happily Ever After?” He took a drink, his throat dry. “And King Ludomir just stands there while I’m doing my thing down on one knee, and looks on and smiles while a guy twenty years older than his son proposes to him? Christ, I’m closer to his age than Jordan’s. You think he’s going to be happy? I hate to break it to you, buddy, but life isn’t like that.” Christ, not him too. “Every event I just described is straight out of a fairy tale.”
Rhys’s eyes sparkled. “Sure—a straight fairy tale. Well, it’s about time someone wrote some queer fairy tales. Starting with you.” He gripped Stuart’s forearm. “Stu, if you don’t like the way this story ends? Write your own fucking ending. Because if you don’t… if you let him go without even trying to hold onto him, you are gonna regret it. And ten, fifteen, twenty years from now, you’ll still be crying into your beer about the one that got away. Because are you listening to what’s coming out of your mouth? I said go after him—you’re the one who brought up proposing, so you have to have been thinking about it. And as for the age thing… fuck, if you want to make something work badly enough, you go after it. Now, I may not know how Jordan feels about you, but do you?”
Stuart took a drink. “He hasn’t said he loves me, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Does he need to say the L-word? Or is it obvious in the way he looks at you, speaks to you…?”
Stuart didn’t want to think about that.
“Jesus, you’ve got it bad.” Rhys’s voice softened. “Sorry I had a go at you. I didn’t realize…”
He blinked. “Realize what?”
“Jordan might not have said he loves you, but you’re in love with him.”
“And if I was, don’t you think the first person I’d be sharing that with would be him, not you?”
Rhys held up his hands. “Point taken. I was just—”
Stuart stood. “I’d better go. This was always going to be a quick visit. Thanks for the drink.”
Rhys walked around the table and seized him in a bone-crushing hug. “Don’t be a stranger, okay? You know where I am. And if you can’t visit, call me. Anytime.”
“Thanks.”
Rhys released him. “Okay.” His voice was gruff. “Now get your ass out of here. Safe trip to New York.”
“Thank you.”
Rhys walked him to the door and let him out. As Stuart stepped into the morning sunlight, he called out, “Be happy. You deserve it.”
Stuart waved, then pulled out his phone to call for an Uber.
Why do I feel like my last chance at happiness is about to get on a plane bound for Elloria?
The jet taxied to the private terminal, and the engines died.
Back in New York. It didn’t feel as if he’d been away for two weeks.
During the flight, Jordan had sat on his own, reading. Stuart understood why. Self-preservation was a strong motivator. We said our goodbyes last night.
He’d left the Jordan he’d known in LA: the person sitting a few seats away from him was a prince, but nothing like the prince who’d boarded the plane a month ago.
Jordan wasn’t the only one who’d changed. In the space of four weeks, Stuart’s emotions had undergone a transformation.
I’m never going to forget him.
In the seat beside him, Piotr unfastened his seatbelt. “Thank you for your services, Stuart. Both teams were extremely efficient. I’ll be saying so in my report to Mr. Dietz.”
Stuart shook Piotr’s hand. “Thanks for the excellent scheduling. I can see why the king relies on you.”
Piotr smiled. “I do my best to be indispensable.” He turned to face the king. “If Your Majesties would come with me, there’s coffee waiting for us in the terminal while refueling takes place.”
Stuart stayed in his seat, waiting for the royal party to leave the plane first. As Jordan passed him, his hand brushed Stuart’s shoulder, and the brief contact sent warmth hurtling through him. Stuart grabbed his bag and followed, walking out into gray light: it seemed a storm was brewing.
He descended the steps, and was surprised to find the king at the foot of them, speaking with the queen. Jordan was gazing at the planes lined up on the tarmac.
King Ludomir glanced up and smiled. “Do you have a moment? Unless you need to leave right away.”
“I wasn’t going to leave without saying goodbye,” Stuart informed him.
The queen shook his hand. “It has been a pleasure to know you.”
Stuart bowed his head. “The pleasure has been all mine.” He watched as she strolled over to where Jordan stood, an elegant figure in a simple cream dress suit.
The king gestured to the plane. “Could we talk on board?”
“Of course.” He climbed the steps once more, King Ludomir leading the way, and when they were through the heavy door, the king pointed to the nearest couch.
“Please, sit.” When Stuart had done so, King Ludomir joined him. “I want to thank you, Stuart—if I can be so bold. I feel we’ve moved beyond Mr. Whitmore, given the circumstances.”
Stuart’s heartbeat quickened, but he remained silent.
“We didn’t hire you to work twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, but that is what you have done, going above and beyond the call of duty. And I have to tell you how much we both appreciate you spending so much of your personal time with Jordan.” His eyes sparkled.
Oh shit. He knows. Stuart waited for the blow to fall.
“I have enjoyed our conversations. It has been a pleasant change to meet someone not afraid to speak his mind.”
Adrenaline spiked through him, and he did his best to present a calm front. “I hope I didn’t overstep the mark, Your Majesty.”
King Ludomir smiled. “Jordan was truly fortunate to have you as his bodyguard, and I’m certain he will look back on this trip with fond memories. Memories I feel sure will remain with him for a long time.”
Stuart was more convinced than ever that the king knew exactly what had been taking place in Jordan’s bed.
“If I ever need a bodyguard for a future visit to the US, I may call on your services again.” King Ludomir paused. “And if you should ever have cause to visit Elloria, you will be made most welcome.”
Dizziness overwhelmed him for a moment, but Stuart regained control. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”
The king rose. “Could you wait here a moment? I’ll be right back.” And with that, he headed for the door and down the steps.
Stuart sagged against the leather seat cushion. I don’t believe it. Unless that speech was intended to put Stuart at his ease before King Ludomir had him arrested, it seemed there were to be no repercussions. And what would the charge be?
Movement at the door caught his eye, and he glanced up, his heart pounding.
Jordan stood there. “My father said you wanted to see me.”
Any doubt that the king knew of their relationship fled.
Stuart got to his feet, and Jordan came closer. “So this is goodbye.”
He cupped Jordan’s cheek. “Then let’s not waste our last moments on words.” He leaned in and kissed Jordan on the lips, a tender, intimate embrace with nothing of the passion of their last encounter, but so much emotion held in check.
When they parted, Jordan looked him in the eye. “Think of me sometimes?
Stuart’s pulse raced. “I can promise, you will never be far from my thoughts.”
“And how will you think of me?”
This was no time for hiding his feelings.
Stuart cradled Jordan’s head in his hands. “Whatever happens, you will always be my boy.” Jordan caught his breath, and Stuart claimed his mouth in a kiss, his tongue parting Jordan’s lips. Jordan fed him the softest whimper, and Stuart smiled as he broke the kiss. “You make the sweetest sounds.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Those words never failed to thrill him.
He straightened as he heard someone on the steps outside. “Goodbye, Your Highness.”
Jordan’s face flushed. “Goodbye, Mr. Whitmore.”
Then Stuart turned, smiled at Joanna, and made his way down the steps, past Piotr who gave him a wave, and finally past the king and queen who stood talking with an airport official. As Stuart drew closer, he gave King Ludomir a warm smile.
“Thank you, Your Majesty.”
The king’s eyes gleamed. “You’re welcome, Stuart.”
He strode toward the terminal. A new assignment awaited him the following day. There would be no time to think.
Maybe that was a good thing.