UNDER THE PRINCE OF LUST'S WILES

"Suck me."

That sentence was the last thing I remembered when I woke up from a deep slumber.

Such vulgar words, I know, but I found it surprisingly arousing. Not that I could remember all about my dream in detail. What clung in the recesses of my brain was a blurry face of a man, standing in my front, his black slacks pulled halfway down his long legs. I was kneeling, my face meeting his package.

No wonder it made me feel hot the moment I opened my eyes. Like wet hot.

It surprised me because I am what you would normally call, 'untouchable'.

Seriously. I am proudly a member of SNBTVM - the Society for Never-Been-Touched Virgin Maidens.

Yeah, like that group of people actually exists.

Anyway, guess I am that sexually frustrated in my mid twenties age huh? Probably that's why I am having this kinky, weird dream.

I can't help it though. These past few months had been so busy. The Mother Superior of St. Augustine, Sister Rhoda, asked me to volunteer for an outreach program that has an indefinite time frame of when it will be done. I was glad to extend a helping hand though. The people in Nepal needed all the help they can get after the latest magnitude 7.8 earthquake hit them.

This would be my second month of stay here. The Sisters had a minicamp set up in a clearing near the destroyed Dharadara Tower. This area became our temporary residence. Our day-to-day routine consisted of cooking breakfast, lunch and dinner for our immediate assigned families, setting up temporary classes for the Nepali children, and offer first aid for those with minor wounds.

It may sound mechanical and laborious but it is a fulfilling daily routine for me. I do believe this is my calling - to help those in need and to provide care and assistance for the sick and elderly. I may not be a nurse or a doctor, but at least I can do this much in my own little way.

Today is especially excluded from my daily routine.

After shoving the dream in the back of my mind, I then started preparing my travel bag. Halfway from finishing the task, my special Iphone ringtone rang. It was an international call from my mother, straight from Wisconsin.

"Yep?" I answered immediately without even checking the name registered in the phone screen.

"Andrea, are you already packing up?" she inquired in her usual intimidating voice. Right. Here she goes again, another go-get-your-butt-off rant, but don't judge her quickly by the way. She is actually the best mother anyone can have. Sweet and caring, a very good cook, and overly supportive in all my endeavors in life. She even let me finish my college degree in Mass Communications even though she had hoped I had chosen Physical Therapy.

"Yes, Ma. I am. It is already eleven in the morning here. My flight is at one. I am just finishing everything here, making sure I don't miss out on anything."

"That's good to hear, " she replied, relief was clear in her voice. I wonder what's making her so nervous.

"Why are you calling? Aren't you already asleep by now?" I asked, trying to fish out information. She is living together with my step-father, who owns a publishing company. I had a notion that her being nervous is all about her cookbook in the process of editing.

"Your Auntie Marcella has been bugging me constantly about you! I want to make sure that you are really leaving. I don't want to hear you say that you needed more time on your volunteer work there."

Guess my theory is wrong.

I heaved a sigh. The sudden hesitation crept inside me. I definitely do not want to abruptly end my volunteer work here. There's still so much to do!

"Actually, I was about to say that. The nuns in St. Augustine needed me and-"

"Okay stop. You know how much Marcella misses you. You really should clear up your mind and focus on your vacation."

I was fighting myself, resisting the urge to roll my eyes upwards. "Yes, Ma. I get it, " I said in haste. "You don't need to sermon me again."

I know how much she would love me to visit her older sister in Luxembourg. It's not her fault anyway. Aunt Marcella has been constantly bugging me to go there too. It has been awhile since I visited her.

The first time I visited the place was when I was fourteen years old. It was Aunt's ten-year anniversary wedded to a British movie director. The last time I visited was her husband's funeral two years ago. I guess she needed someone to talk to that's why she wanted me to visit. I didn't really mind it though. She is my favorite aunt in the first place. Anything for her, I would do - except of course her constant matchmaking endeavors for me. That - I simply am not focusing right now.

"Good that you understand. So, I expect to see postcards in my mailbox from your tour in Belgium ASAP alright?" Her jovial tone was finally evident. I bet she is the only woman - if not the whole world, but the whole of Wisconsin - who doesn't have a Facebook, Instagram or Twitter account.

"You can expect a sack of them if you want, " I lightly mocked, but I greatly have an inkling this was what she wants.

In the middle of biting my lip, I suddenly heard children shouting from the outside of my tent. Curious of what the commotion was all about, I briefly peeked and then the corners of my mouth curved.

"Haha, good joke dear." My attention returned to my phone when I heard my mother replied. "Call me when you arrive in Marcella's house okay? Take care. I love you."

"Yep, I sure will Ma. Love you too."

And with that, we ended our conversation. After shoving my Iphone inside my personal bag, I exited the tent and found that the commotion was indeed from my favorite group of children, playing a game of toss-the-can-baseball.

The Benlali Awesome-Brothers! That's what they have tagged themselves with. It made me smile remembering the youngest of the three brothers pronouncing it 'ooosum' - struggling with the words quite clearly. Apparently, that's one of the few English words they know of, but it was still cute though.

I took in a long deep breath hoping to calm myself down and ease my worries of leaving my work.

Yeah, I am definitely going to miss these three boys and the Augustinian Sisters too. They have become a family to me. I can only hope and pray that going to my Aunt's house would all be worth it.

After a straight six-hour flight, my plane finally touched down the Luxembourg Fidel Airport at seven twenty-five in the evening.

Auntie Marcella had already informed me via email that she had charged someone to pick me up in the airport lounge area. She didn't specifically tell me if that person was a he or a she, so I was confused on who to look up to when I arrived in the lounge. There were so many people inside the room, mostly tourists I suppose, either waiting for their flight to be called or waiting for whoever would fetch them just like me.

I noticed a vacant seat in one corner of the room, so I went straight there. I got only two bags with me; one had my clothes inside, while the other smaller one contained my personal necessities like my cellphone, wallet and passport. Good thing I wore simple jeans, a white blouse and a coat today; at least with this, I wouldn't feel conscious with the way I sit together with all of these people.

It was a waiting game, but at least my time was well spent with playing the new version of Plants-Versus-Zombies game app. I never really got to play this one since I started my volunteer work in Nepal.

Now, here I am, ten minutes later, so engrossed with the tenth level of the game.

One thing to note about me was that when I am serious, I am serious, but for no apparent reason, my eyes left the screen and shot straight up to a tall, handsome - really handsome - man standing a few feet in my front, looking down at me - glaring actually - with a big white cardboard in hand. Written in it was my name in B.O.L.D. letters, obviously screaming to be noticed.

Typical thing. Exactly what I would expect in my Auntie.

Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Brooding was wearing a black tuxedo, Cavalli I guess. His grey-violet eyes inspected me from head to foot, exactly like I am a delicious wedding cake, and he seemed to be calculating the expression on my face - or I think it was mainly my face. I gulped. His more-than-necessary inspection really did make me feel conscious and flushed.

My eyes widened the moment I appraised his looks too.

Really now, a tuxedo? In an airport? What is this? Is he like a James Bond star or something?

But Gods, such a fine man. He even has a ring piercing on his oh-so-luscious bottom lip.

It was giving off a menacing aura, yes, but I found that it didn't really scream caution for me. For starters, tuxedos and piercings don't go well together, but I somehow find the two attractive together. Well, he is attractive so...yeah...maybe it would only be right to give him the benefit of the doubt why he has a lip piercing.

I didn't have time to pause my game when his Christian Bale-like voice resounded in my ears. No. Not the Dark Knight Rises-deep rich voice, but the Howl's Moving Castle-velvety voice.

"Andrea Anthoni?" he said. My name escaping his mouth was like a sleep spell cast over me. It made me feel drowsy. It was weird. But well, it's either that or the six-hour God-forsaken flight I just had.

"Ye-yes, it's me, " I replied, my voice faltering for a moment. I don't really need to affirm myself that this James Bond-wannabe was who my Auntie had sent to fetch me. Basically, he had my huge nameplate in hand and the family crest of the Winner family was stitched neatly on his coat. These two were already a dead giveaway.

"Madame Winner is waiting for you. Come with me please, " he stated again and stooped low to get my bigger bag. This time I successfully pulled myself out of my near-state of drowsiness.

In a quick move, I exited the PVZ game, shoved my Iphone in my coat pocket and stood up only to find that Mr. Wannabe had already covered a long distance away from me.

What? Just like that? No introduction on his name or a simple how do you do?

I frowned.

Quick. Definitely quick.

He was like a floating corpse in a black suit. So, I did what had to do. I matched his pace of walking despite how taxing it was.

*

*

*

We were in the basement parking lot of the airport minutes after. He was already revving the BMW new model car, while I sat silently in the front seat. I saw a picture of my Auntie in the car screen before the GPS system popped right in and it left me dumbstruck.

Gods, Aunt Marcella really knows her luxury well.

I say the car fetches billions of dollars, but this fact wasn't the reason why I am nervous right now.

Yes. Nervous.

That's the first thing I felt the moment I slid inside the sleek automobile. It had dawned on me that not only was Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Brooding here as my temporary babysitter, but he was also my personal driver and that's for another two hours worth of travel going to my Auntie's house.

Could I really pass this kind of awkwardness for that amount of time? He hasn't said another word since we left the lounge area other than 'your seat belt' and the oracle in me prophesied that he won't be releasing any other words anytime soon.

I could judge him as an impassive man; cold, calculating, and domineering. Not the chitty-chat kind of person. But you know what they say, 'don't judge the book by its cover', so maybe it would be proper of me not to do that. Not like he is a book, but...oh well...he is still a human, I guess.

I wondered why Aunt Marcella has this kind of a man though. Is he her bodyguard or something? Maybe he is one of her late husband's film agents or possibly her attorney?

Three of those are plausible, but the last two are unlikely. I mean, com'n! He sure looked just like my age, or maybe five years older than me. Film agents and attorneys are expected to look older. Plus, attorneys aren't supposed to wear a piercing.

Glancing at him again as he focused driving us out of the parking lot, I say he could pass out definitely as a James Bond actor. The younger, sexier copy of him though.

I diverted my attention outside the car's window and crossed my arms in my chest. I guess I'll just have to wait until then to know the truth about this man.

*

*

*

"Why just now?"

My eyes bulged as I slowly dragged my head to face him, stunned.

Goodness me! The mute man actually spoke!

Seriously though. It has been almost two hours already. Our travel had become quite a silent war. I never really expected that he would speak now and rather sudden at that.

"Huh?" I replied, obviously confused of his not-so-clear question.

His eyes never left the road, but I did notice his mouth twitch a bit. Maybe he found my innocence irritating?

He cleared his throat and I saw him grip the steering wheel tightly. He does seem to be having trouble over something.

"What I mean is, what took you so long to visit your Aunt?" he finally said. I was relieved that this time, it was a question my IQ can process.

I bent my head and smiled to myself. "I am a busy person, my Auntie knows that. I simply can't find the right time to visit her. Luxembourg is quite far away from where I live."

"Where do you live?" he quickly butt in. The richness of his voice made me feel drowsy again which was more than weird.

"Wisconsin." Although I found his question a bit uncomfortable, I answered still. "I have my own apartment there. But I consider myself a traveler. Whenever there is an outreach program from my charity groups, I volunteer. To where it will be is not important, as long as I get to help, that's what matters."

"I see." I heard him say, but there was no smile, no trace of expression on his face for me to read as a good sign of approval from my thought sharing.

Feeling courageous, I shifted on my seat to face him and asked the question that had me bugging for hours. "I'm sorry. You didn't actually introduce yourself to me awhile ago. May I ask your name please? I was wondering how you are connected with my Auntie."

This time, I saw his lips curve into a half smile. This made my heart skip a frantic beat. Goodness. He looked criminal! I tell you, CRIMINAL!

"My name is Eriol, Milady Andrea, " he stated and gave me a once-over, his eyes were like wild fire sending me aflame, "And I am the Winner family's head butler. It is a pleasure to finally meet you."

Frozen.

That's what I became when he answered me straight in a formal fashion. In an instant, I recognized it as a butler's Victorian way of addressing monarchs.

Yes. Butler.

I never expected that he is actually a butler. That my slightly-eccentric Auntie employed a damn hot man like him!

Being a MasCom graduate, I would have answered him in a formal fashion too, but I suddenly felt the car engine stop. I soon realized that we had reached our destination.

Aunt Marcella's house can be called a boast if you ask me. The big - no - huge fancy house looks just like those you normally see in Beverly Hills complete with a swimming pool. This one however has a touch of old Renaissance taste, all elements of it including the building, the main facade and the interior. They were all designed into perfection. The marbled floors, the high ceilings, even the furniture were eye-popping. It doesn't fail to surprise me though considering that her late husband, my Uncle, was a filthy rich man.

When I visited here for the first time, I remembered playing house on my own, treating myself as a princess inside a big castle. I enjoyed it very much, especially when my Auntie plays with me, acting like the queen of the castle. They also had a ranch located a kilometer away from the main house. This was where I learned to ride a horse, taught by Uncle Michael Winner himself.

By the time Aunt Marcella saw me in the foyer, she immediately fell in tears.

Gods, such a theater drama queen.

I did mention she acts like an eccentric right? But eccentric in a good way. She wears mostly flashy clothes - ones that involve neon colors and sequins - but at least on my arrival, she has tuned it down a bit, wearing just maroon flare pants and a bolero knitted blouse.

"Oh Andrea! It is so nice to see you again!" she exclaimed, giving me her famous well-endowed embrace. Yeah. For a fifty-eight year old woman, she sure looks younger - I guess from using Botox cream?

"Auntie! How have you been?" I asked, resigning myself to be embraced tighter.

Once satisfied, she dabbed the small water beads in her eyes with a handkerchief and stared cheerfully at me.

"I'm good! A bit bored but I'm good!" she replied.

Yeah. Bored-my-ass Aunt Marcella. I know you won't be when you have a freak'n hot butler near you always! That's what my crazy little side was saying. I lightly shook my head, dismissing the thought away.

Speaking of butler, I happen to glance at that particular man-in-suit crossing our way towards an awaiting young woman wearing a French maid outfit. He handed my stuffed bag to her to which she dutifully accepted. When he whirled around to face us, I was already smothered by my Aunt's second embrace. I noticed, was it just my imagination or was he really directing his eyes only on me?

"Come, Andi, let's head to the dining room. I'm sure you're hungry. Oh! I get the chef to cook your favorite carbonara spaghetti a la Marcella!" she squealed delightfully, then hooked her arms in mine, pulling me to where the dining room stood. I smiled again, happy to see her rambunctious personality. It felt good to know that she has finally accepted her husband's untimely death due to pneumonia.

Yes. You could say that I am very much famished. I was actually ready to devour what awesome feast readied for me, but before we stepped inside the dining room, my Aunt unexpectedly paused, her face showed a slight frown as if she had forgotten something. Her head turned to where Mr. Hot Butler stood and ordered, "Oh Eriol! Could you get it in my room please? I forgot to bring it with me."

My brows rose. I am totally not sure what it meant, but it did make me curious. I glanced fleetingly at him and saw that he was already climbing up the staircase towards the second floor exactly like an obedient lapdog would do.

"You seriously have a butler Auntie?" I commented as we headed our way to the table.

"Oh, he had already introduced himself to you it seems, " she replied.

I took a seat right next to her where there was already a dining set readied. She glanced at me and smiled some more. "Butlers are in nowadays. All of my friends have one in their houses although not as young as Eriol. I am even surprised he is an elite butler who graduated with high honors in the International Academy for Butlers in Sardinia, Italy."

"Seriously?" I batted my eyelashes many times. "How old is he anyway?"

I hope I didn't sound too intrigued about him, and I hope my Auntie failed to notice it if I did.

"He's twenty-eight, Andi. Handsome right? I was actually surprised when he applied for the job when I posted an ad in the newspaper. I never thought that he is a butler. Being a model is what suits him more."

"And you actually accepted him then, " I said. I made a sign of the cross in my chest before ravaging the food in the table.

"Of course I would! Mainly because I seriously needed additional manpower on the refurbishment of the west wing rooms. You know in my old age now, Andi. I can't possibly run everything around here without my back aching, " she said, running her hand up and down her waist at the same time as if to prove her point.

"I see, " I nodded in agreement, but suddenly dipped my eyes in my full plate, remembering a certain someone. "Uhm, what about Lorde, Auntie? He hasn't returned yet since that..." I trailed off. Reminiscing the memories with my Auntie's step-son just wasn't in my vacation plan, but since I hadn't seen him since I arrived in the house, it made me wonder. Although being a few years older than me, Lorde and I are good childhood friends mainly because we share a love for horses among other things.

"He is in Mexico, Andi, still busy with his business, " Aunt Marcella answered with a fleeting sad spark in her eyes. "But well, uhm, the last time we spoke he expressed that he is looking forward to meeting you again. He said he would try to fix his schedule so that he can come back home while you are still staying here."

"Oh, how-how kind of him to do that, " I said, suddenly feeling a slight anxiety inside me. That would have persisted if not for Auntie's abrupt intentional change of better and happier subject discussions.

Our chit-chat was off the hook. We had so many things to update about ourselves and our family that we didn't notice the time passing away. I didn't even notice that I haven't filled my stomach thoroughly yet.

By the time Eriol arrived in the dining area, I was already halfway from finishing my plate. I happen to have the pasta's white sauce smeared in the corner of my mouth so I intentionally licked it. He eyed me for a second before handling the rectangular box to my Aunt and I swear I saw him hide a smirk. This made me frown in response. Just what is up with this Lapdog anyway?

"Andi dear, " Aunt Marcella called my attention. I gave her a smile quickly. She has been accustomed to calling me that since I was young. I wasn't bothered by the nickname though. I do think it cute.

She reached across the table and handed me the rectangular box. I eyed it for a second, confused on her gesture. "Take it, it is my welcome gift to you, " she said with pleased eyes. The gift was wrapped in silk paper, tied with a red ribbon. I immediately wondered what it held.

"Thanks Auntie, " I expressed and then unwrapped the box carefully, already seeing the hint of excitement in her face.

Goodness gracious!

I almost choked on the corn kernels I was chewing when I stared, awestruck, on two rather lacy, sexy, provocative, ultimately revealing apparels inside the box - a lingerie set - winking in welcome at me. This is a welcome gift alright - that much my Aunt is right. I suddenly felt hot, exactly similar to what I felt when I woke up from that particular dream.

"Huh, tha-thanks Auntie, " I uttered, trying to hide my most awkward virginal smile.

I didn't need to raise the items for a closer inspection. Nope. I am not giving Mr. Wannabe here a chance to ogle on the lingerie. Not a chance. Anyway, just by looking at them this way, I could already see how sheer they were. I wonder what has gotten in her mind why she gave me this. She knows I am without any boyfriend. The only and last one I had was my childhood friend who was away...so far away from Luxembourg.

"You're welcome Andi. I expect you to wear that on your first night with your husband."

Again, I nearly choked. Seriousllly?!!

"Well, uhm...that sounds weird coming from you Auntie. You know I am not into that kind of relationship right now, " I stressed out, already beads of sweat slowly trickled down my nape.

"That's fine, but sooner or later you will, and I will be rooting on that. You are a beautiful woman. You really should consider settling down already."

"You mean to say you want my children running around your house, right Aunt?" I countered teasingly. This was a bulls-eye because I saw her clear her throat in response.

After a moment of silence, we then both broke into a silly laugh, exactly like we used to after a continuous tickling in the ribs.

Eriol just stood a few feet from the dining table looking blank.

I don't know. It was either he was oblivious of our cherished moments or he was just plain unfeeling of our happiness. Maybe, butlers were supposed to pose like that; never really showing any hint of emotion in front of their master and their guests.

*

*

*

Luckily, my Aunt gave me this night to settle down comfortably in my room. I still had jet lag of course, so she understood why I wanted to retire early.

Once again, I should say that the house looked huge. It was already acceptable that it contained numerous guest rooms. Aunt Marcella had informed me that I am now assigned to a bedroom that befitted my age. The last room I had was in the south wing of the house, namely the pink room. It was stylishly designed for teens and considering that I am no teen now meant that she had to consider putting me in a much chic room. Of course, with that in mind, she specifically ordered Eriol to guide me to it for I did not know where it was located.

My room was apparently one of the specialty guest rooms at the north wing, together with the master's chamber which my Aunt uses.

Silence presented itself again as we both strolled in the corridor of the second floor; my arms embracing my coat and the disquieting gift box. He didn't initiate any conversation, so normally I didn't. I was trailing behind him - an advantageous position it seems because I am able to view his wide back without being wary of his gaze.

Goodness. He really is a lip-smacking man. I bet, in the past, he was asked by an agent to model Guess, Gucci, Cartier, Armani, Boss and many other famous brands. I wonder why he ended up being a butler.

We finally stopped in front of a wide mahogany door. It was located at the farthest part of the corridor; the edge of it boasted a small balcony. He gestured his hand onto the closed door looking at me with dark eyes.

I felt my skin hairs raise when our eyes met. Is this a butler's style too? Looking at their guests like he was stripping them naked? Then I noticed his eyes dipped briefly down. Enough experiences with men made me realize that he was checking out the lift of my breasts. I immediately felt conscious then with the blouse I was wearing.

"Your bedroom, Milady Andrea, " he said, super formally.

I raised the box higher to cover my cleavage, frowning. "Please don't address me like that, " I requested. "We are not in the Middle Ages you know."

"I know, " he agreed, but without showing any hint of concern. "But still, I love to call you that. You are after all my Mistress."

My mouth fell open. For whatever reason, I felt a cold chill run down my bones. This man. THIS MAN was certainly toying with me, ridiculously calling me a Mistress?!

"No, your Mistress is my Aunt, not me, " I innocently corrected before I stepped to open the door of my room. Before I could twist the knob though, I felt his hand on my waist. I immediately stiffened.

Warm was his breath next to my ear when he drawled, "Very well then, An-dre-ahhh... Have sweet dreams tonight."

I whirled around to shot him a scornful look, but he was quick to walk leaving me in the corridor tongue tied.