Masked Prince - Nikolai Andrew Page 0,65
I said, under my breath.
Iris drew her shoulders back and put one hand on her hip to say she gave a fuck.
“Alright, alright,” I said, resisting the urge to adjust my balls. The erection was real, but as long as I stayed behind Iris for a minute I’d be able hide it. Mostly. But I didn’t miss my chance to hook my arm around her belly, nestling it in between her tits and her baby bump, and leaning in behind her to say, “I’m fucking hungry. Make some milk for me. Right now.”
She stifled a laugh and slapped my thigh, a hot red blush coming up into her cheeks.
Following Iris into the shed, I saw Bonny seated on a milking stool, one hand to the pregnant heifer’s belly, and one ear to her side. It was the same little Bonny that had thanked me for saving Iris that terrible day when the Queen’s men had come to kill her, the same girl who Iris had taught so much when she ran the farm herself.
But Bonny was a little girl no longer. She had grown up a lot in five years, and she was now well into the full power of young womanhood herself. Millstone Farm was now hers and she ran it like a well-run ship—everything neat, trim, and organized. Helping her with the calving was a farmhand named Rhys, who watched her with attentive, lusty eyes. Most of the men that Bonny oversaw resented being bossed around by a young little firecracker with hair the color of copper, and bright blue eyes that turned a fearsome sapphire when she was pissed off. But not Rhys. He was a grown man only a little smaller than me, but he’d have done absolutely anything that little firecracker wanted. Smitten as fuck.
“Hello, your Grace,” said Bonny, lowering her head. She knew how much I hated the pomp and circumstance as well as anybody, and I was grateful that she didn’t give me the full curtsy and all the rest of that shit. Rhys, though, stared at me with a stock-still terror like he was a deer caught in a cross-bow sight. He began to rise to bow for me and Iris, but Bonny set him straight with a ruthless jab of her elbow into his ribcage. “Sit down, Rhys! Randal will still be the King in twenty minutes; you can bow to him then. But this calf is on its way now.”
And he planted his ass on the stool with a thud, with his eyes stuck on Bonny like she was the center of his universe. I knew exactly how he felt. Fucking exactly.
In my arms, I could feel Iris’ eager pull, wanting to go help Bonny with the calving. I didn’t forbid Iris from much, but now she was seven months pregnant and there was no way in hell that the next prince or princess was going to be put in that kind of danger. I kept her close to me, my half-stiff cock pressed against the small of her back and nestled my chin on her head. “You’ll help her next year.”
“I know,” she said, giving me a resigned sigh, and easing back comfortably in my arms.
“Unless I fuck another baby into you,” I whispered into her ear.
She stifled a laugh and shook her head, nostrils flared. “I’m never going to be not pregnant for a calving season again, am I?”
I made a show of actually thinking about it. “Nope.” Fuck, never felt real, having her as my own. She had been my dream for so long that even now it felt like every day was a dream still.
The kids had been watching Bonny’s every move, and slowly trying to get closer and closer. I gave Iris a click of my cheek to warn her, but she was on it already. “You two, go out and see how many ducklings have hatched. Okay? I don’t want you getting too close.”
“Mommmmmm,” said Maggie. “Please?”
She shook her head. I backed her up with a snap and, “Out. Count those ducks, you two. I want a full report.”
Randal grabbed his sister by the hand and they took off toward the little pond, bickering over how many there were yesterday.
“We’ll call you when the calf is here!” Iris called after them. She adjusted her position slightly so that I had a perfect view of her cleavage. From where I stood, I could just see the edge of one of her dark, wide nipples. I