Page 22

Chapter

Seventeen

B ecoming frustrated with my lack of speed, Hart shoves the plate of food into my hand and swings me into his arms without breaking his stride.

His body trembles with barely restrained emotion—fear, anger, frustration…

who knows? His eyes flick down to me, and his lips kick up in a wicked smile that makes a tremor ripple down my spine.

“Scared, Calamity?”

I shake my head. Not in the way he thinks, anyway.

These knights would never physically hurt me.

It’s something I am sure of. He swings the door open to their mini castle and kicks it closed, sealing us inside the round room which connects their bed chambers.

We haven’t discussed whose room I’m sleeping in.

Maybe it’s a test—to choose. If so, I’ll sleep out here on the sofa.

My eyes drop to his mouth as my lips tingle from his kiss.

He bends and places my feet on the floor, in a move so gentle it is shocking. Then he stares at me like he’s trying to dissect my soul.

“So, Felicity?” I whisper, trying to break the building tension. I assume his brothers will be along shortly. Hart normally avoids being alone with me.

He unbuttons his jacket and tosses it over the side of the sofa before tugging his shirt free of his breeches. “What about her?” he asks as he works his shirt buttons free, revealing a toned, tanned chest.

I lick my lips to check for drool. Nope, all good here. “You are supposed to marry her?”

He stalks closer, and I back up, astounding us both that I remain upright while walking backward. It must be the red dress I’m owning this diurnal.

My back hits the cool wall, and Hart grabs my plate of untouched food before placing it on a tall sideboard. “Hey, I haven’t eaten yet,” I protest.

His arms come down on either side of my head, caging me against the wall. He runs his nose along my forehead, into my hair, and down to my ear. “You have to earn it, remember?”

I swallow as heat flushes down my body and settles low in my belly.

“You haven’t explained about Felicity,” I whisper.

“They groomed her from birth to be a perfect wife,” he starts as his tongue flicks against my ear. Perfect? Something I will never be. His teeth scrape down my neck, stealing my breath. “She will walk around the castle, commanding the staff with poise and grace.”

Again, two things I cannot offer.

“Never causing trouble,” he continues as his words wreck my heart. “Felicity won’t make me worry by doing crazy shit. She won’t walk into a room and cause destruction and chaos. She will do her duty and the kingdom will have no choice but to love her perfection.”

My stomach twists in pain. Why does this hurt so much? Somewhere along the line, I became theirs, but they aren’t mine. I could never satisfy them when women like Felicity fall over themselves to kneel at their feet.

“You will never be her,” he adds, landing the last and perfect blow. But they have toyed with me, my heart, my soul enough to cause damage. I am not a pet to pass the damn time.

My hand lashes out, and the slap reverberates in the air, making my palm sting.

Hart growls before grabbing both hands in his and slamming them against the wall above my head.

He pulls away enough to stare into my eyes, and I force mine closed.

He doesn’t get to see my pain, even though he inflicted it.

“Let me go,” I snarl.

“Felicity and a thousand other women have been trained to select the correct menu for feasts. They know when and how to start polite conversation, what fashion is acceptable in the kingdom, and how to toe the line between alluring and regal.”

My hands ball into fists, but he tightens his hold around my wrists, keeping me hostage.

“You made your point, Hart. Not even Charming is this cruel. Let me go.”

“No, I haven’t made my point. Not yet.”

There’s more? My eyes sting as tears threaten to fall. He won’t stop until he’s destroyed me. “Please,” I whisper.

He gathers both of my wrists into one of his large hands, freeing the other to grip my chin.

“Open your eyes, Daphne.” It’s the use of my real name that shocks me into compliance.

I expect to be met with the visceral hatred I can hear in the words he’s just spoken.

But they are soft, full of longing and heat.

“What do you want from me?” I murmur.

“Everything,” he says without hesitation.

“Why, when you have the perfect woman waiting for you?”

“Perfect perhaps, but not perfect for me.” His thumb traces my bottom lip, tugging until it presses against my teeth.

“I need a woman who will challenge me and call me out on my shit. She needs to ground me in reality, not pander to my superiority complex. My perfect woman upends my world and stirs up the most delicious chaos. She doesn’t shy away from the darkness in my soul.

She makes fire sting my veins. She makes me want to crawl on my knees to have just a moment of her attention.

” A dark image of Hart crawling toward me makes my thighs clench.

“She doesn’t conform to the rules. She tears them up and resets the narrative to her expectations.

She creates wonder and makes me excited to rise at dawn to find out what calamities she has in store for me.

She will never be Felicity, and that is what makes her perfect. ”

My heart struggles to soar, recognizing me as that woman, but my mind reminds me that Hart hates me. Right?

“I am not perfect. I’m the opposite.” It’s true, and I’m okay with it. I have never tried to conform. It is utterly unappealing to me, and I would fail.

“You think you are anything less than perfect? I just about lost my mind watching Nash push you over the edge. I had to restrain myself from taking everything I wanted from your body.”

“I wish you wouldn’t.”

His throat bobs as he swallows, and he releases my wrists. He takes a step back. “Okay, I’ll leave you in peace.”

My brain scrambles to understand what he means. Oh, no, he thinks I rejected him. I grab his hand. “No, Hart. I mean, I wish you wouldn’t restrain yourself.”

His nostrils flare. “Turn around, Daphne.”

Anticipation tightens my skin as I spin to give him my back.

He scoops my wild hair over my shoulder and releases the corset laces, tugging them loose.

His lips trail over my shoulder as he pulls the sleeves free from my arms. The dress whispers against my skin as it slumps to the floor in a heap of fabric.

His knuckles graze my spine. “Put your hands on the wall, and don’t move,” he instructs. I comply, eager to find out his intentions. I’m his perfect, and I need to remind myself to stop the self-conscious thoughts about my body not being enough for him.

He chuckles. “How long can I look forward to this compliance?”

I twist my head to glance at him over my shoulder. “A turn at most, so use it wisely.”

He licks his lips as he shrugs off his shirt and toes off his boots. Breeches too please, Idols. Hart shakes his head.

“No talk of Idols. Mine is the only name you need to say in prayer tonight.”

I need to watch what I’m saying in my mind out loud. Stupid brain needs to keep it inside.

Hart sinks to his knees behind me and places a soft kiss on both of my ass cheeks before tugging down the matching red panties to join my dress on the floor.

He encourages my legs wider apart and blows a breath over my sensitive flesh. Tingles of pleasure skitter down my legs, and my forehead presses against the cool wall. The contrast to my flushed flesh is welcome.

“Your scent is like a damn drug. It makes me think of silk and fur in the dark,” he grumbles. He puts a hand on the base of my spine, dipping it toward the wall, bringing my ass out. The position opens me up even further to his touch.

The moment his tongue touches my most intimate flesh, I moan. He feasts on me like he’s been starving for my taste, and only a few tempos later, I’m on the edge of an orgasm.

“Beg me to come, Daphne,” he snarls. He wants my complete surrender, because I already have his.

“Please let me come.” His teeth clamp down on my swollen, sensitive flesh and I suck in a breath.

He releases me. “Do better.”

Growling, I spin to face him, grab his hair, and guide him between my legs, directing his intimate kisses where I need them the most. His eyes dance in the dark, satisfied as he makes me feral with need for him.

“Make me come,” I snap.

He pushes two thick fingers inside my body and latches his mouth on my clit, sucking so hard, it’s a punishment edged with the most delicious pleasure. I scream his name as everything clenches tight.

“Fuck,” he groans. His fingers still, but he keeps the pressure on my clit, helping me ride out the blinding climax.

My body slumps against the wall, and my legs give way. Hart lets me slide down to the floor until my ass hits my dress. Where Nash is all teasing and relentless torment, Hart is a fire of need and ruthless intent.

His mouth presses against mine, familiarizing me with my sweet and musky taste. My core clenches as he sweeps his tongue against mine, making me moan.

He pulls away after a tempo and stands. I blink at him, an Idol in his own right as he towers above me. His hand slides into my hair, and he fists it, making my scalp tingle. He tugs the laces of his breeches free.

“I’m not as gentle a lover as Nash, Daphne. I’m not about to bathe the pleasure from your flesh while you black out in bliss. I want you a wrecked mess, on my bed for the night.” He tugs on my hair. “But first, get on your knees.”

I lean forward and comply, my palms clutching his muscular thighs. “Good girl. Now take out my cock.”

I blow out a steady breath. I have only done this once, and Theo seems happy with what I did. Most of it is intuition—I hope.

I loosen his breeches and reach inside to tug out his cock. Idols help me. That is huge. I swallow the rising panic that I won’t be this perfect woman he wants or needs.

His thumb hooks inside the corner of my mouth, and my eyes meet his. “What’s wrong?”

I lean back, freeing my mouth. “I don’t have a lot of experience,” I whisper. “I’m scared I’ll do it wrong.”

He chuckles. “You won’t do it wrong, I promise. Now open your mouth and stick out your tongue.”

Licking my lips, I do as he asks, giving the glistening tip a tentative lick. Fuck, he tastes like sin.

He slides against my tongue, groaning as he goes a little deeper until he hits the back of my throat. I panic and pull back to suck in a breath.

His pupils are blown wide as he twists my hair tighter. “Relax your throat for me, Calamity. I won’t hurt you, but I need to go a little deeper.”

I can do this; I’ve faced far scarier things than Hart’s cock in my throat. I still haven’t investigated if I need oxygen since my queen of the ocean status hasn’t been revoked.

I guide him back into my mouth. He stills as I take control and work him deeper. He groans the moment he breaches my throat, and I don’t pull back, swallowing around him.

“Fuck,” he growls. “That’s it, just like that.”

His thighs go taut as he fights his desire to take over.

Giving me control is the sexiest thing he’s done to me.

I reward him by taking him even deeper on the next stroke and swallowing again.

That action drags him closer to the edge.

The constriction must feel good. I keep my strokes slow but deep, swallowing around him when I can.

There’s drool on my chin, but I don’t stop.

Having him at my mercy while on my knees is a freaking revelation.

“I’m going to come,” he snarls in warning, his free hand slamming against the wall. I smile around him and sink down so my nose touches his skin. He shouts my name and warm liquid squirts into my throat. “Swallow, Daphne. Fuck. Please swallow.”

Gladly. There is no need to beg. I’m already committed to devouring every inch of him.

His heavy breaths break the silence as he withdraws his still hard cock from my mouth. I gasp in a breath. Seems I do still need oxygen. That’s disappointing.

Hart drags me to my feet to kiss me senseless, tasting himself on my tongue, much like I did earlier. Somehow, this feels more forbidden.

He pulls away and kisses the tip of my nose. “Next time you think you aren’t perfect, remember how you brought me to my knees tonight.”

I grin at him. “If I forget, I will ask for a reminder.”

He shakes his head, the genuine smile still plastered on his face. “You drive me insane.”

“The feeling is mutual.”

“But I can’t stay away.”

“Again, the feeling is mutual.”

My stomach gremlin disturbs the peace between us. Hart throws his head back and laughs. “Come on, Calamity, let’s find you something to wear that isn’t a red dress made to drive me insane. Then I believe you earned your sausages.”

Red drives him insane? Noted. Wait, sausages? I forgot all about them, and that is the biggest tell that this man owns a piece of my heart. He better keep it safe, protected, and cared for, because the cage surrounding it has shattered.