Little Red Corvette: A My Sweet Prince fanfic

Ch. 4 Labyrinth

"Well, shoot…"

I've left the dance hall, and I've come to the quick realization that I don't know where I am. I just assumed I'd have a guide back. Why didn't I ask for a tour sooner? I'll be wandering around forever.

Suddenly, a pair of hands cover my eyes and pulls me close.

"What?!"

Immediately I reach up and touch the hands. They're not Ivan's or Prince Jun's. I slowly brush my fingers over the tops. They're clearly male, all big and strong, and the way they're teasingly yet tenderly placed over my eyes leads me to believe they're highly experienced hands too. Whoever it is is purposely not speaking, so I look for another clue. I inhale deeply. Musk. A really rich, animalistic musk. It's so natural that this man may as well have a freshly hunted deer wrapped around his neck; it certainly would add on yet another layer of manliness.

"Ah, you smell my Musc Tonkin, and your body's reaction tells me you like it."

Before the voice registers, the hands fall from my eyes then spin me around. When I stop, I'm looking up into the flirty eyes of the oldest prince. He smiles broadly and winks. "Carnal, isn't it?"

Oh hell, I've still forgotten his name, possibly my own as well. Quick! It started with an M! Don't let him think you forgot!

"Hello Prince Mel…Melky…Melkyee?"

Nice work, nerd.

He laughs a deep, hearty laugh and pulls me in closer for a hug. "Well, aren't you adorable? I'm Melchiorre, but Melkyee is pretty damn close."

Whew. Automatically, my arms go around him as well. Pulled in close like this, the musk scent gets stronger. He smells so good. "I'm sorry Prince Melchiorre, I should have asked instead of guessing. I've never heard your name before, do you know its origins?"

"Indeed I do! It's Italian, like my mother. She wanted me to have a good, strong name from her homeland!"

His mother? I was wondering about the mom situation around here. At first, I assumed they all had the same mom, but they look so different that I never would have guessed they were even related. I heard ladies in harems weren't allowed to have kids, so are their moms even in the harem? How planned were the princes? How did the King pick who would have his kids? I'm dying to ask but it seems too personal at this point.

"I'm sorry for butchering it and disrespecting your mother, you just look so much like a Mel."

He laughs again. "Do I? Even more than a Melkyee? Then by all means sweetheart, call me Mel. None of this prince stuff either, just Mel. It's sweet of you to be concerned about my mom, but what Mama don't know won't hurt her."

My guess is that, in his case, there's probably a lot his mama doesn't know and it'd send her into cardiac arrest if she ever found out. "You sure that's okay?"

"Yes, it sounds right coming from those delicious lips of yours." He takes his right hand off my back and places it on my cheek. His thumb softly traces my lower lip. "How about you give me another taste in the near future?"

I giggle. What a charmer; I haven't even had boyfriends speak so romantically to me. Mmm…he is a good kisser, and I can always use a good kiss. Between his charisma and the trance his cologne has me in, I'm inclined to oblige on the spot. No girl, focus! Remember the task at hand!

"All in good time Mel, right now I was wondering if you might do me a favor?"

His hand slides under my chin and he cocks my head up to meet his soft, sage green eyes (ha, I wonder if all of them have the same moves). "Anything you want."