Page 20
Story: His Forbidden Princess
"Enough," he finally gasps, pulling me away. "I won't finish like this. Not the first time."
In one fluid motion, he lifts me from the floor and carries me to my bed, laying me down with surprising gentleness given the desperation in his eyes. My gown is half-undone, my hair a wild tangle, my lips swollen from his kisses.
"Look at you," he murmurs, standing at the edge of the bed, drinking in the sight of me. "If you could see yourself through my eyes..."
"Show me," I whisper, reaching for him. "Show me how you see me."
He sheds his uniform with military efficiency—jacket, weapons belt, boots—until he stands before me in just his trousers, chest bare and magnificent in the moonlight filtering through my window. The scar on his jaw is just one of many that mark his body, each telling a story of battles fought and survived.
When he joins me on the bed, hovering above me with his weight braced on his forearms, I reach up to trace the largest scar—a jagged line across his ribs.
"For you," he says simply. "All of them, for you."
The admission steals my breath. I pull him down to me, needing his weight, his heat, the solid reality of him after years of distance.
His mouth finds mine again as his hands work at my gown, sliding it down my body until I lie beneath him in nothing but thin silk underthings. I should feel exposed, vulnerable, but instead I feel powerful, desired, alive in ways I never have before.
"Are you certain?" he asks one last time, his voice rough with need but eyes serious. "Once I take you, there's no going back. You'll never belong to your prince, not really. Not in the ways that matter."
"I never wanted to belong to him." My hands frame his face, thumbs stroking the stubble along his jaw. "I've been yours since you took that knife for me. I just didn't know it until now."
Something breaks open in his expression—the last of his restraint giving way to naked hunger. He captures my mouth in a kiss that's pure possession, hands roaming my body with reverent greed.
When he finally removes the last barriers between us, when his body joins with mine in a moment of exquisite pain and pleasure, I feel the world shift beneath me. My body arches as he pushes deeper, his thickness stretching me in ways I never imagined. The pain flares bright then dissolves into something else entirely—a building pressure that makes me claw at his back.
"Look at me," he commands, his voice a rasp against my ear. "I want to see your eyes when I claim you."
I obey, locking my gaze with his as he begins to move. Slow, controlled thrusts that make me gasp and writhe beneath him. His eyes never leave mine—dark with possession, tender with something I'm afraid to name.
"That's it, princess," he murmurs, adjusting his angle until I cry out. "Let me hear you."
My hands grip his shoulders, feeling the muscles bunch and flex with each movement. The silk sheets slide beneath my back as he drives me higher, deeper into sensations I never knew existed.
"Dain," I whisper, his name a prayer on my lips. "Please."
I don't even know what I'm begging for, but he seems to understand. His movements quicken, one hand sliding between our bodies to touch me where we're joined. The pressure inside me builds to something unbearable.
"Let go," he urges, his own control fraying. "I've got you."
When release comes, it shatters me completely. I feel myself splintering into a thousand pieces of light as waves of pleasure crash through my body. Dain follows moments later, his powerful body tensing above me, my name a broken sound on his lips.
Reality crashes back, unwelcome but unavoidable. I am still Princess Lirien, still promised to Prince Aldric, still bound by duty and expectation. What just happened between us—beautiful, transformative—is still forbidden.
"What are we going to do?" I whisper, my hands framing his face, thumbs tracing the strong line of his jaw, the roughness of his scar.
He turns to press a kiss to my palm. "I don't know yet. But I will not lose you to him, Lirien. I cannot."
The fierce possessiveness in his voice should frighten me. Instead, it feels like a lifeline in the stormy sea of my future.
"I don't want to be lost." I rest my forehead against his, our breath mingling in the small space between us. "I want to be found. By you."
He kisses me again, tender this time, a promise rather than a claiming. "Then I will find a way. Trust me."
And despite everything—the impossibility of our situation, the duty that binds me, the consequences we would face if discovered—I do trust him. This man who has guarded my body for seven years, who now guards my heart with equal fervor.
"Stay with me tonight," I whisper, a plea I never thought I'd make.
Regret flashes across his face. "I cannot. The risk is too great. Your ladies will return soon to prepare you for bed, and my absence from my post would be noted."
In one fluid motion, he lifts me from the floor and carries me to my bed, laying me down with surprising gentleness given the desperation in his eyes. My gown is half-undone, my hair a wild tangle, my lips swollen from his kisses.
"Look at you," he murmurs, standing at the edge of the bed, drinking in the sight of me. "If you could see yourself through my eyes..."
"Show me," I whisper, reaching for him. "Show me how you see me."
He sheds his uniform with military efficiency—jacket, weapons belt, boots—until he stands before me in just his trousers, chest bare and magnificent in the moonlight filtering through my window. The scar on his jaw is just one of many that mark his body, each telling a story of battles fought and survived.
When he joins me on the bed, hovering above me with his weight braced on his forearms, I reach up to trace the largest scar—a jagged line across his ribs.
"For you," he says simply. "All of them, for you."
The admission steals my breath. I pull him down to me, needing his weight, his heat, the solid reality of him after years of distance.
His mouth finds mine again as his hands work at my gown, sliding it down my body until I lie beneath him in nothing but thin silk underthings. I should feel exposed, vulnerable, but instead I feel powerful, desired, alive in ways I never have before.
"Are you certain?" he asks one last time, his voice rough with need but eyes serious. "Once I take you, there's no going back. You'll never belong to your prince, not really. Not in the ways that matter."
"I never wanted to belong to him." My hands frame his face, thumbs stroking the stubble along his jaw. "I've been yours since you took that knife for me. I just didn't know it until now."
Something breaks open in his expression—the last of his restraint giving way to naked hunger. He captures my mouth in a kiss that's pure possession, hands roaming my body with reverent greed.
When he finally removes the last barriers between us, when his body joins with mine in a moment of exquisite pain and pleasure, I feel the world shift beneath me. My body arches as he pushes deeper, his thickness stretching me in ways I never imagined. The pain flares bright then dissolves into something else entirely—a building pressure that makes me claw at his back.
"Look at me," he commands, his voice a rasp against my ear. "I want to see your eyes when I claim you."
I obey, locking my gaze with his as he begins to move. Slow, controlled thrusts that make me gasp and writhe beneath him. His eyes never leave mine—dark with possession, tender with something I'm afraid to name.
"That's it, princess," he murmurs, adjusting his angle until I cry out. "Let me hear you."
My hands grip his shoulders, feeling the muscles bunch and flex with each movement. The silk sheets slide beneath my back as he drives me higher, deeper into sensations I never knew existed.
"Dain," I whisper, his name a prayer on my lips. "Please."
I don't even know what I'm begging for, but he seems to understand. His movements quicken, one hand sliding between our bodies to touch me where we're joined. The pressure inside me builds to something unbearable.
"Let go," he urges, his own control fraying. "I've got you."
When release comes, it shatters me completely. I feel myself splintering into a thousand pieces of light as waves of pleasure crash through my body. Dain follows moments later, his powerful body tensing above me, my name a broken sound on his lips.
Reality crashes back, unwelcome but unavoidable. I am still Princess Lirien, still promised to Prince Aldric, still bound by duty and expectation. What just happened between us—beautiful, transformative—is still forbidden.
"What are we going to do?" I whisper, my hands framing his face, thumbs tracing the strong line of his jaw, the roughness of his scar.
He turns to press a kiss to my palm. "I don't know yet. But I will not lose you to him, Lirien. I cannot."
The fierce possessiveness in his voice should frighten me. Instead, it feels like a lifeline in the stormy sea of my future.
"I don't want to be lost." I rest my forehead against his, our breath mingling in the small space between us. "I want to be found. By you."
He kisses me again, tender this time, a promise rather than a claiming. "Then I will find a way. Trust me."
And despite everything—the impossibility of our situation, the duty that binds me, the consequences we would face if discovered—I do trust him. This man who has guarded my body for seven years, who now guards my heart with equal fervor.
"Stay with me tonight," I whisper, a plea I never thought I'd make.
Regret flashes across his face. "I cannot. The risk is too great. Your ladies will return soon to prepare you for bed, and my absence from my post would be noted."