Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 36206 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 181(@200wpm)___ 145(@250wpm)___ 121(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36206 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 181(@200wpm)___ 145(@250wpm)___ 121(@300wpm)
I crush myself against his hard chest. My mainframe is crashing and nothing makes sense, but it doesn’t matter when Royal kisses me.
I’m up on my tiptoes, asking for more, when he pulls away. His eyes are dark, shadowed, his mouth pulling into a thin and serious line.
“But first,” he draws out the words, and my heartstrings along with it, “you need to learn a lesson. My wife will be loyal and faithful, always. Do you understand?”
I blink at him.
“Loyalty means not running. Faithfulness means asking questions and not assuming. There will be punishment for you leaving like that.”
“Punishment?”
“Yes. You could have been hurt.” He bends down and scoops me into his arms. “When I’m done with you, you will not run again.”
6
Royal carries me to the dark bedroom and sets me down on the bed. He looks me over, like he’s checking me for damage, and his lips press together in a thin, unimpressed line. My stomach dips and swoops, hating that I’ve let him down.
“This looks lovely on you,” he comments, fingering the sleeve of my sweater. “Now that you know it is yours, do you like your surprise?” His eyes track over to the closet doors.
“You can’t buy me with fancy clothes,” I mumble, even though part of me wants to swoon in his arms.
I like to buy pretty things, he told me. I like to own them.
Royal tugs off my sweater and boots while I wrestle with my feelings. I could let myself go last night, telling myself it was one night. But now?
“Royal, please.” I catch his shoulders as he’s unbuttoning my jeans. “This is crazy. We just met. You can’t buy me all those things.” I can’t even discuss the ‘you will be my bride’ part. It’s too nuts.
“No?” He’s back to being amused. He finishes pulling off my wet jeans and rubs his warm hands up my freezing legs, which, frankly, is a relief. Once again, I’m cocooned in Royal’s dark room and delicious scent, ready to succumb to his demands.
But I can’t let go like I did last night. It will mean too much to me. These feelings growing in my chest—they overwhelm me. They make me want to run.
He seems to sense the shift in my emotions, and shakes his head. “You will not,” he says, pressing me back to the bed. “I will not allow it.”
“What?”
“You think I do not know you, inside and out?” He strokes back my tangle of curls, spreading my hair across the pillow. “You will not run again. I will never do anything less than treasure you, principessa. But first…” his voice is deep and smoky, whispering over my skin, “there is punishment for you, for trying to run.” He kisses the tender lobe of my ear, licking over it in a way that has me grabbing for the front of his shirt to pull him close.
He rears out of reach. “Lie back.”
He waits until I obey, and turns to the bedside table to rummage in a drawer. At the sight of the ties in his hands, my mouth goes dry. My body remembers how he tied me down last night, and is making ready for him. Adrenaline fizzes in my bloodstream. My heartbeat is wild in my chest.
“Give me your wrists.” He’s got four silk strips of fabric. Two for my wrists, and two for my ankles. He ties me down the way he wishes, and pulls the bra I’m wearing down so the whole thing props up my breasts. I’m still in the plain panties. If he rips these ones off, at least he paid for them.
He paid for a whole closet full of them. I can’t think about that.
Royal rises over me, studying me like a king observing his chattel. He skims a finger over my soft belly and cups his hand between my legs. His palm presses into my pussy. “This belongs to me.”
Oh. My. God.
“Say it.” His eyes are demon dark. He drags his hand over my sex, rubbing lightly. “Tell me, Leah, who this belongs to.”
“You?” My voice is a barely a huff.
“Me.” A wicked grin tilts his lips. He keeps rubbing me.
“Royal—”
“Shhh, little one. No more talking. Just feel.”
My thighs are shaking. His touch is light, too light for me to come. I squirm, wanting more stimulation.
“Be still,” he orders, releasing me. I whimper, wanting his touch back.
He leaves me, going to stand in the shadows by the bed. He’s fiddling with something on his sleeves—his cufflinks. They clink as he sets them down on the bedside table.
He rolls up his sleeves, his gaze never leaving mine. By the time he’s bared his forearms, my chest is heaving like I’ve run up a flight of stairs.
“Such a good girl,” he murmurs. “So obedient.”
I don’t know why those words thrill me.