Page 48
Story: Downfall of a Princess
I didn’t know, but I wouldn’t mind finding out.
I wouldn’t be opposed to more kisses, either, and maybe to more of what he did to me last night.
“Sex was supposed to be enjoyable.”
Finally, those words started making sense to me.
Holding my wrist, he casually licked the pineapple juice off my fingers. It seemed effortless, with not a drop of awkwardness or pretense, like we were long-term friends, comfortable in each other’s company. I had no idea how he did it—whether he really felt this comfortable with me by now or he was just an excellent actor—but my own awkwardness had thinned too.
When he released my wrist, I moved my hand to his hair. The neat style the groomers had arranged it in yesterday had fallen apart during his sleep. His thick russet tresses with copper highlights were disheveled from sleep, making him look younger, even vulnerable, and truly adorable.
I ran a hand through his hair. “I should find you a hairbrush.”
“I hate to say it, Princess, but you need one too.” He flicked a long strand of my hair that hung over my face.
I giggled. The sound immediately shocked me into silence. Inevergiggled.
And suddenly I knew exactly what I wanted. I cupped his cheek, filling my palm with the slight prickle of his beard. With my other hand, I squeezed his shoulder. His body felt strong and solid under my palm. Reliable.
I shifted closer and kissed him.
He held still as I pressed my mouth to his. Tasting the pineapple on his breath, I licked the sweetness of the fruit from his lips, and he parted them for me in an invitation for more. It was like a dance, and I enjoyed learning every step of it.
My control slipping, I leaned harder against him, accidentally knocking him off balance and sending him back into the pillows while crashing on top of him with a laugh. My hand remained on his cheek, my fingers deep in his beard.
“Did I feel your beard this time?” I wondered. “I can’t even tell.” All I remembered of the kiss was my head spinning, the sweet taste of the pineapple, and a sudden wish for more.
He seemed to fight a smile, but it crinkled the skin at the corners of his eyes, sparks of humor dancing in his irises.
“You wish to feel my beard, Princess?”
Rising to me, he rubbed his cheek against mine. I laughed, falling backwards into the bed. We knocked over the plate with fruit, the grapes rolling everywhere.
“Now look what you’ve done,” I squeezed out through laughter.
“Let’s clean it up.” He caught a grape and popped it into my mouth, then grabbed another one for himself.
I lay on my back, eating the grape and watching him. The sun shining through the patio doors behind Salas turned the ends of his hair into a copper halo around his head. The corners of his mouth lifted in a soft smile. The look in his eyes was light and easy. And I had a hard time reconciling this smiling, playful man with the one I’d seen tied to the gallows and whipped.
I cupped my cheek in some semi-conscious effort to preserve the prickly sensation of his beard pressed against it.
“Stay here today,” I said, without giving myself a chance to overthink it. “I have two meetings, an ambassador lunch, and a large, formal dinner after. But I’ll be back tonight. The maids will bring you breakfast and anything else you want. You canrest, have a bath, or take a nap. I can get them to bring you some books from the library. Uh... Can you read?” Literacy was not a given among the men of the lower class where many slaves tended to come from.
“I can read.” He nodded. “But I won’t stay.”
“Don’t you have a day off today? Since you spent the night with me?”
“I do. But I have plenty of things to do too.”
“Like what?” I frowned, recognizing a lame excuse when I heard one.
“I just remembered that I need to tidy up my bunk in the barrack,” he replied flatly. “And it’s my turn to do the dishes after lunch.”
“How exciting.” I climbed from the bed and collected the plate with the remaining fruit.
“The life of a slave is filled with excitement,” he deadpanned. “But I also remembered something that I shouldneverforget, not even when your freckles manifest themselves so enticingly in the morning light.”
“What did you remember?”
I wouldn’t be opposed to more kisses, either, and maybe to more of what he did to me last night.
“Sex was supposed to be enjoyable.”
Finally, those words started making sense to me.
Holding my wrist, he casually licked the pineapple juice off my fingers. It seemed effortless, with not a drop of awkwardness or pretense, like we were long-term friends, comfortable in each other’s company. I had no idea how he did it—whether he really felt this comfortable with me by now or he was just an excellent actor—but my own awkwardness had thinned too.
When he released my wrist, I moved my hand to his hair. The neat style the groomers had arranged it in yesterday had fallen apart during his sleep. His thick russet tresses with copper highlights were disheveled from sleep, making him look younger, even vulnerable, and truly adorable.
I ran a hand through his hair. “I should find you a hairbrush.”
“I hate to say it, Princess, but you need one too.” He flicked a long strand of my hair that hung over my face.
I giggled. The sound immediately shocked me into silence. Inevergiggled.
And suddenly I knew exactly what I wanted. I cupped his cheek, filling my palm with the slight prickle of his beard. With my other hand, I squeezed his shoulder. His body felt strong and solid under my palm. Reliable.
I shifted closer and kissed him.
He held still as I pressed my mouth to his. Tasting the pineapple on his breath, I licked the sweetness of the fruit from his lips, and he parted them for me in an invitation for more. It was like a dance, and I enjoyed learning every step of it.
My control slipping, I leaned harder against him, accidentally knocking him off balance and sending him back into the pillows while crashing on top of him with a laugh. My hand remained on his cheek, my fingers deep in his beard.
“Did I feel your beard this time?” I wondered. “I can’t even tell.” All I remembered of the kiss was my head spinning, the sweet taste of the pineapple, and a sudden wish for more.
He seemed to fight a smile, but it crinkled the skin at the corners of his eyes, sparks of humor dancing in his irises.
“You wish to feel my beard, Princess?”
Rising to me, he rubbed his cheek against mine. I laughed, falling backwards into the bed. We knocked over the plate with fruit, the grapes rolling everywhere.
“Now look what you’ve done,” I squeezed out through laughter.
“Let’s clean it up.” He caught a grape and popped it into my mouth, then grabbed another one for himself.
I lay on my back, eating the grape and watching him. The sun shining through the patio doors behind Salas turned the ends of his hair into a copper halo around his head. The corners of his mouth lifted in a soft smile. The look in his eyes was light and easy. And I had a hard time reconciling this smiling, playful man with the one I’d seen tied to the gallows and whipped.
I cupped my cheek in some semi-conscious effort to preserve the prickly sensation of his beard pressed against it.
“Stay here today,” I said, without giving myself a chance to overthink it. “I have two meetings, an ambassador lunch, and a large, formal dinner after. But I’ll be back tonight. The maids will bring you breakfast and anything else you want. You canrest, have a bath, or take a nap. I can get them to bring you some books from the library. Uh... Can you read?” Literacy was not a given among the men of the lower class where many slaves tended to come from.
“I can read.” He nodded. “But I won’t stay.”
“Don’t you have a day off today? Since you spent the night with me?”
“I do. But I have plenty of things to do too.”
“Like what?” I frowned, recognizing a lame excuse when I heard one.
“I just remembered that I need to tidy up my bunk in the barrack,” he replied flatly. “And it’s my turn to do the dishes after lunch.”
“How exciting.” I climbed from the bed and collected the plate with the remaining fruit.
“The life of a slave is filled with excitement,” he deadpanned. “But I also remembered something that I shouldneverforget, not even when your freckles manifest themselves so enticingly in the morning light.”
“What did you remember?”
Table of Contents
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