Page 7 of Deviant Princess (Knight's Ridge Empire 5)

“Things are complicated,” I say after a ridiculously long silence.

“You don’t fucking say. Just maybe double-check you locked away all your kitchen knives and shit before you go to sleep anywhere near her.”

I laugh because it seems like the right thing to do, but I can’t help but wonder what Emmie is going to do now that she knows. Now, she knows that I’m her… her husband.

Scrubbing my hand over the long scruff on my jaw, I roll that word around my head.

I might have known about this for a few weeks now, but that doesn’t mean it’s any easier to take.

It was easy to push the fact aside when I had other things to focus on, like how the hell I was going to refrain from fucking her six ways from Sunday.

I wanted to do the right thing and not consummate anything until she knew the truth. But she fucked that up the second she pointed her knife at my car.

Maybe I was always fighting a losing battle.

I’ve also considered that those good intentions actually weren’t anything more than me being selfish, because I knew the second I took her that I’d crave her again like nothing I’ve ever experienced.

And I was right.

Fuck, was I right.

“Yeah, already done. I don’t need any more surprises.”

Daemon nods in understanding.

“I’ll call you if anything changes.” His eyes shoot toward the room where Cora is currently fighting for her life.

“Appreciate it. See you soon.”

“If you’re lucky.”

“She won’t hurt me that bad. She likes my cock too much,” I say with a smirk. Although when Daemon’s only reaction is to stare at me blankly, I realise I said that comment to the wrong twin. “All right, well… laters.”

With a nod, I turn around and make my way out of the hospital.

Pulling both my phone and Emmie’s from my pocket, I read through the messages we’ve received.

Both Stella and Calli are suspicious of Emmie’s disappearance, and rightly so. It’s something I’m going to need to deal with sooner rather than later if I don’t want them at my door, demanding me to tell them what’s going on.

Calli I can handle. But Stella is a whole different story.

“Yo, bro. Emmie’s pussy that good, huh?” Seb says the second our call connects. “Once you cave to the real thing, that Vaseline seems sub-par, am I right?”

I let out an exhausted sigh. I can’t remember the last time I got more than twenty minutes of sleep sitting upright in a hospital chair.

What I need is my bed with my girl curled up in my arms.

My girl.

Or fucking not.

She might be mine on paper, she might be able to legally take my name and whatever Dad allowed her to have in a prenup that I’m sure exists, but I’m not sure I’m ever going to actually be able to claim she’s really mine.

“What’s going on? You’ve been blowing up my phone like someone’s died.” I cringe at my own words, knowing that it’s only been weeks really since he buried his mum.

“Nah, Stella’s just freaking out that you might have got a bit heavy-handed with Em.”

“She’s the last one who should be worried about rough sex, man.”