Page 6

A s soon as the door closes behind me and the Rogue Prince, I am roughly pushed, front down, onto the king-size bed standing in the middle of the spacious room. What the hell? I knew he would be quick to fuck me, but he could at least—

My thoughts are cut by the sound of the heavy fabric hitting the floor. His black cape, which means he’s already naked.

My head snaps in his direction. He is standing in front of the massive bed I am on but doesn’t look at me; his eyes are closed, and he seems frustrated. He is indeed naked, his huge dick hard and glistening, and it takes everything in me to quickly lift my sight once again to his face.

He sighs deeply and drags his hands over his face. The warm light is dimmed, but with the moonbeam, it’s enough for me to see everything very clearly.

I sit up, casually wrapping the white cape over my lap, and just wait for his next move.

“For the fuck of me, I cannot remember your name. I don’t think I ever heard it, to be honest,” he finally confesses, and I can’t stop myself from laughing.

Even better for me, I won’t tell him.

“Don’t worry, I can scream yours later if you want, Your Highness.”

He opens his eyes and looks into my soul. At least, that’s how his cold staring feels. I stop smiling and swallow with a lump in my throat. Shit.

“I’ll cut your pretty face if you do. You know I don’t have a problem with doing that.”

“You think I have a pretty face, Your Highness? Thank you!” I say with sarcasm because my mind clearly lacks safe boundaries.

I blame it on my wolf inner-self, too excited after weeks of self-inclined silent treatment.

He scoffs and turns around. I try not to stare at his toned ass. I fail.

“Stop with all this lengthy royal crap. I’m your husband, you can just call me… ‘My Lord’, or something,” he says, grabbing some black sweatpants from the chest of drawers on the left and quickly putting them on.

I mark my scoff. ‘My Lord’ is still royal and has the same amount of words as Your Highness. Thank you very much.

I look around his room with stone walls and raw wooden floors, noticing for the first time a cool stand-alone metal bathtub in front of big glass terrace doors that also work as the only window.

“Are you? A lord, I mean.” I ask, accidentally out loud, judging by him passive-aggressively taking one of his knives from the top of the dresser.

I gulped. Should I apologize? Or play stupid? I can do both.

“Do you prefer to call me your Master? Since you are my little wolf slut now, I mean?”

Well, at least I am starting to understand why Moon Goddess paired us up. It’s not for him to get some more empathetic, human side. No, uh-uh. It’s for me to finally learn that sometimes I should just shut up. One day with him, and I’ve already learned it’s not good to banter all the time. Silence is gold or some crap.

I don’t hesitate to lean my head in submission, but I decide to add, “No, my Lord,” just in case, so he won’t start to call me his little slut all the time.

I would have to slit his throat in his sleep in that case, and it would not be beneficial for anyone in both of our kingdoms.

“Undress,” he suddenly orders nonchalantly, pointing his knife toward my cape. “I’ve wanted to fuck you since I first saw you standing in that ridiculous castle of yours.”

He does? Am I supposed to feel special? And if anyone's castle is ridiculous, it’s the one we are in.

I try to keep my mouth shut. I shouldn’t start a fight with him, not when I know I’ll have to relax enough to have sex at some point. I’m not lying to myself—we will have sex at some point. It would be beneficial for our fearfully joined union. Plus, I don’t intend to live like a nun when I have some hot man all to myself.

But the hatred I have for him is stronger than any logic I have—especially when he has already put on some pants that tell me he’s not seriously considering this, right?

“You seem to like fucking everything that moves, my Lord,” I say with a bow, remembering how he looked at my maid a few hours back.

He shrugs his shoulders.

“Well, partially true, but I’m not into guys that much.”

I can’t help but laugh.

He points his knife at me again, “Your cape. Take it off.”

My soft laugh dies. He is serious, after all.

“And what if I say no? Your Highness.”

Or My Lord. Whatever.

“I’ll take you anyway. You are my wife.”

He kind of has a point about us being married, but the way he delivered the message doesn’t sit well with me.

“It would be a rape, and you know that.”

“I don’t care if it’s rape or not. I’ll do what I want.”

I stand up, shaken.

“Wait, time out. You don’t really mean that, do you?” I ask with a firm tone.

He bursts out laughing, putting his knife away, and I almost can’t help but smile at his lit-up face.

“You didn’t just ‘time out’ me like I was some naughty schoolboy…” he says, amused and for the first time, not at all angry.

His laugh stops suddenly as if he realized it got weirdly intimate between us, and not in the way he hoped. It got intimate in a goddess-forbid friendly way.

Ugh, I couldn’t tell which of us hates this unwanted accident more!

This night is not going as I thought it would, and I can’t help but feel slightly disappointed.

Like… being ridiculously hot is his only positive quality, and this whole conversation completely killed my mood. He should have tried to take me immediately after returning from the wedding. It was still salvageable even after he pushed me onto the bed like that. Now? I don’t want it to be like this.

No, wait. I don’t want any of this. This day was too long, and the wedding was too perfect to tarnish like this.

“I need to take a shower,” I murmur more to myself.

“Go on,” he points to a bathtub with his chin.

“Don’t be ridiculous, my lord,” I say, going straight to the wooden door near the dresser.

I don’t know why he laughs until I open the door. It’s not a master bathroom. It’s… a restroom. Probably. Way below my standards. Way below anyone's standards. What the fuck? It truly is a medieval castle.

I close the door and stride to the bathtub with Rogue Prince laughing at me.

“You didn’t hear a word at our fathers’ meeting today, did you? Not the part about our problem with the school system and lack of higher education or engineers, for that matter. You were too occupied with staring at me and—” His statement abruptly stops with my white cape falling with a thud to the floor.

Who’s staring now, you prick ?

I look at him over my shoulders, standing tall, not ashamed of my toned body. I am used to being naked after the shifts in front of all the warriors back home, and he already saw almost all of it before we shifted earlier.

He stands a few steps away from me with his arms crossed over his gorgeous, tanned torso. He stopped talking, but his face is still cold, emotionless. Surprisingly, he looks into my eyes.

I bring my focus back to the bathtub. I touch the surface of the water that is already inside. It’s very warm. Hot almost. So, I step inside, immersing my tired body in the hope of relief. I sit, leaning my back over the bathtub wall, water reaching over my chest. I close my eyes and try to relax.

When I open them again, I see Rogue Prince sitting on the floor in front of me. Still shirtless. Leaning casually on the wall near a big wooden chest behind the bed. His legs are crossed, and black sweatpants show his bare feet and ankles. And he stares. Stares at me.

“The wedding was beautiful. Your Highness,” I chose to say, closing my eyes again, letting him observe me. I don’t mind, not really.

“All of our weddings look like this.”

I imagine that he shrugs his shoulders while he says that, but the truth is, I barely know him.

All I really know is how ruthless he is on the battlefield. All I know.

I should be scared of him, but I’m not. He can’t kill me if he wants peace, and he won’t rape me. The truth is he could have fucked me as soon as we came here—he was hard, and he wanted to—but he didn’t. No matter what he says, action speaks louder here. He was frustrated about not knowing my name, and he did dress up instead of exposing me. He is just looking now. He doesn’t even see anything important. Not from this angle.

Maybe it’s a mistake, and I know what would be better for me, but I can’t be scared while I’m in this relaxing, warm water after this crazy long day—

I get pulled out of the water with a big splash. I don’t know what is going on at first, but my throat is burning, and I’m coughing some fluid out .

Water…

“You fell asleep, Princess,” Rogue Prince says, probably seeing my confusion.

I’m about to scold him for the ridiculous nickname, but then I realize I am indeed a Princess. I guess I’m not used to hearing this title, especially not in that mocking tone.

He puts a huge towel over me and starts rubbing my body through it.

“Good thing you were watching me then, my prince.” I bow my head slightly, and I can see his pants are completely wet, clinging to his muscular thighs and big bulge… Wait, is he hard again?

“Don’t call me that,” he hisses.

It took me a few seconds to concentrate my mind enough to understand what he was talking about.

“But you called me a princess. My Lord.”

“I don’t know your name, Princess .”

“You never asked.”

“You never asked me either.”

“Yeah, because I know your name, Cain .”

“Watch your tone,” he grabs my throat, and the towel falls to the floor.

I feel exposed this time.

He looks into my eyes as if he’s looking for something.

“How do you know it?” He asks finally.

“Let’s just say, your father is always very passive-aggressive about showing us he rules over a legitimate kingdom.”

“What’s passive about attacking your borders? ”

“No, that’s strictly aggressive. I meant the other thing he does. He always sends us official cards for every occasion. Sometimes, it is a Christmas card. And sometimes, it is an announcement of the birth of his first heir. My dad shamelessly collects them all. We literally have one room dedicated only to showcasing Rogue King’s cards. I know your birth announcement by heart.” I put my hand on my naked chest.

He looks down with his sexy eyes, and my breath catches.

“It does sound like him, actually. The cards.” Rogue Prince says, not looking back up. “God. I need to have you. Right now.”

Before I can gather my thoughts to react, he picks me up by the ass, and I am forced to wrap my legs around his waist to catch my balance. I keep my hands on his shoulders, not wanting to hug him again, we are awfully close either way. My face is slightly higher than his and looking down at him like this is weirdly hot.

He carries me easily to the bed and tosses me on it, but this time, he’s going with me. He rests on his left elbow to not crush me with his weight and moves his right hand from my ass to the core.

My heart rate embarrassingly speeds up, and I try to close my legs—it’s impossible with him lying between them. He touches me, gently pressing between my folds, and moans.

He fucking moans!

“Mmm. You’re so wet for me already.”

I am. I know that. Do I like that? No.

“I’m not,” I manage a lie, but even I know it’s not a very good one.

I don’t know if it is the mate bond or just him being a ridiculously hot, strong, and handsome man, but for my own sake, I pray for it to be just an effect of the mate bond. Otherwise, I’m double doomed.

He looks me in the eye and smirks. He takes his hands off my slit, and it suddenly feels cold and too empty down there, but I don’t say a thing. I stare back, unmoved.

“Ok, little wolf. If you want to play like that, I can play too.” He rolls off me and lies down on his back with his arms crossed leisurely under his head, and a sexy, smug smile I want to wipe off of him.

His muscles look even better than before, and it takes a lot of strength not to drool over his abs.

“What do you mean?” I sit up, looking down at him. “My Lord.”

“I’ll make you beg me to fuck you.”