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“It’s a surprise.”
He takes my hand and continues to lead me up the steps. I’m so amazed by the artwork we pass along the way that I forget to let go. Even when I remember, I still don’t let go.
I’ve craved his touch ever since I walked in on him pleasuring himself in his office. I’ve never held a client’s hand like this, but then again, I’ve never had a client like King David.
He’s irresistible. He’s magnetic.
How can I expect him to say no to his urges when I can’t say no to them, either?
He stops in front of a set of double doors and turns both knobs, letting the doors swing open in front of us.
I gasp at the spectacle before me.
I don’t even know where to start with this room.
The first thing I notice is the fireplace on the far end, but not because there’s a fire burning inside. Above the mantel is a nude painting of King David in all his glory. The artist has spared no detail, and the proportions are astonishingly accurate.
Wow. What must the housekeepers think when they come in here to change the sheets?
In the middle of the room is the biggest bed I’ve ever seen. It’s covered in soft pillows, satin sheets, and an assortment of vibrators in many shapes, colors, and sizes. There’s a mirror on the ceiling above the bed.
Whatever this room is, it was not made for sleeping.
“This is my bedroom,” David announces, seemingly unaware that he looks like he’s trying to lure me into a bordello right before the cops bust in. “Contrary to popular belief, I don’t sleep in the palace. That moldy oldie is for tourists and other people we’re trying to impress. On most days, I stay here in the manor, where I can spread out and get comfortable.”
I don’t think I should ask how he likes to get comfortable. It’s likely to lead to a very uncomfortable answer.
“Never show this to anyone,” I tell him, pushing him out and closing the door behind us. And I mean it. Seeing him naked was an accident.
Getting cum on my dress and having to change was not exactly an accident, but it was unavoidable on my part. Walking into his den of sin, however, would signal to him that I’m here to fuck him instead of doing my job.
If David can’t respect me as a professional, he won’t respect me as a woman. That’s why I need to stop this tour right now before I hop on that bed and kiss my career—and my love life—goodbye. Once I have an affair with the King, any man who googles me will know.
And although I am a strong, independent woman, and dare I say good person, King David’s advisors have kept a list of people he’s allowed to marry when the time comes. And I’m pretty sure I’m not on it.
That’s part of the reason I’m here: to make sure he’ll be a suitable husband as well as a suitable king—for someone else to marry, of course. I’m just the hired help. Which means anything he and I do together will be just for now, just until something more suitable comes along.
Now I see why he’s so resistant to propriety. Being proper is no fun at all.
“But why would we leave now?” David whines. “This is where the magic happens! I haven’t even shown you the detachable shower head yet. You would love it. The water pressure has three different settings.”
“I want to leave now, please.”
“But didn’t you see the mirror on the ceiling? If you thought the window was hot…”
That’s it. He’s gone too far.
“Your Majesty, I’m trying to do my job, and this is not helping. I want to take the time to get to know you before I outline your strategy, but in order for me to do that, I need you to stop distracting me. Do you think you can do that, or should I tell your advisors to hire someone else?”
It’s a risky move. I really want this job to work out. If I can help clean up a dirty king like David, I can help anyone.
He pouts. “Yes, I can do that. But please, call me David.”
“David,” I repeat. He softens at the sound of his name on my lips. “Now what else do you do for fun around here? I’m hoping you have some hobbies that don’t involve your dick. Otherwise, it’s going to be very difficult to come up with alternative story ideas for the media.”
“Right this way,” David says in his most cordial tone. “I can take you to the front lawn, where I go to watch the grass grow. After that, maybe we can head to the kitchen to watch the ice cubes form in the freezer.”
“That would be lovely,” I say, ignoring his sarcasm.
Following his lead, I head down the stairs and out the front door for a proper tour of his estate.
“What do you think of my properties now?” he asks after I’ve seen every inch of the manor, the surrounding guest houses, and most of the grounds.
“They’re enormous,” I tell him. “The biggest I’ve ever seen.”
“Well, you should spend more time here then. I want to show you what I plan to do with them. The tabloids are going to eat it up.”
I stand on my tiptoes and plant a soft kiss on his cheek. I think my first crisis with my new client has been safely averted. For now.
“I’m looking forward to it, David. Thank you.”
