Deep within the central region of Romania lies a sleepy little town called Transylvania. Known for its mountainous borders, medieval towns and timeless castles lies a force so powerful that not even the most bravest of men will not venture. Castle...
Time passed quickly as news of our wedding spread across Romania like wildfire. Everything from the tables and chairs down to the icing on the cake was hand selected by a professional designer that Dracula had found online. But there was one thing I still could not see coming; the guest list. Over a hundred people were invited and that just included Politicians, Heads of state, foreign diplomats and even the President of the United States. As for my own little family, I hadn't spoken to them since my great-great aunt's funeral. And the idea of them showing up and causing a scene was something that I couldn't allow to happen on our special night.
The wedding is to be held at the Palace of former king Anatolie Manea whose death was ruled a homicide but then later dropped once the authorities realized that the amount of evidence involved was insufficient. I called it a hunch thinking that Dracula had something to do with it, so I let it slide, for now at least. And speaking of Dracula, the once future king whose rightful position upon his family's throne had finally been restored, was nowhere to be found. So I excused myself from all the glitz and glamor as I slipped out the door and headed upstairs. The master suite was located just steps away from the second floor at the end of the hall as I entered.
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And there, standing in front of an antique that was bigger than the wall that it propped up against, Dracula was in the midst of admiring his new royal outfit. But once he saw me, he snapped his fingers as the room cleared it out in under thirty seconds. A new record for him I'm sure. He turned to face me. Dressed in black slacks, his bare chest laid open and inviting beneath a royal cape. As for the royal crown, I didn't see one nearby. Instead, I stepped forward slightly and tugged at the waistband of his slacks as his chest pumped hard. The clasp that draped the cape across his broad shoulders came undone as he lifted me up and carried me over to a small bench at the foot of the bed where he sat down and squeezed my ass firmly in his hands.
"I take it everything is to your satisfactory downstairs," he said.
"Yes. But are you show about us having a big wedding? I would've been much happier with nice smaller gathering on an island somewhere in a church."
"This isn't just a wedding my love, it's also my inauguration. Immediately following the wedding I will have taken the final step towards becoming the King of Romania. And you will become my Queen."
"Hardly. I'm not even a woman."
He leaned in close. "You'll always be a Queen in my eyes, no matter what."
His breath brushed against my parted lips as I inhaled his scent and felt the surge that rekindled within me. "I see you've been making the final adjustments to your new wardrobe. How much longer before you're done in here? You know I haven't seen you all evening."
He pretended to check the watch on his waist in a mocking tone. "Well, what about right now?"
