Page 35 of The Spare (The King Dynasty #2)

Chapter nineteen

Making a Wife

I press kisses to her sweat soaked neck, her temple, and her lips until I feel her heartbeat returning back to normal. Gripping her hip, I disengage slowly, hearing her make a soft noise in the back of her throat.

"I know, baby; I'm sorry," I say quietly.

I hurt her.

I know she begged me for it but, Goddamn, I feel awful right now. Glancing down, I see blood on my dick, streaked on her inner thighs, on the bedsheets under us, and it's a lot.

An interesting mixture of pride fills me, but it's dampened with a tinge of worry. Melody stays quiet as I press a lingering kiss to her lips. "Be right back," I say, "I'm going to draw a bath and then clean us up."

She nods, her eyes blinking lazily as I pull away from her. Closing her legs, she rolls over on her side and then tucks her hands under her chin.

I pad to the bathroom where I start the tub, squirting a generous amount of a ridiculously expensive bubble bath and swish the water around until it's nice and bubbly.

Turning, I snatch a washcloth off the rolled stack on the vanity, wetting it with warm water, returning to the bedroom where I see she's trying to nod off.

I say nothing, wanting to let her rest and stay at peace. Reaching forward to pull her legs apart again and gently wiping her clean of the blood, then myself.

Picking her up, I cradle her to my chest as I walk back into the bathroom and see the tub isn't even halfway full yet. I step into the deep soaker tub, arranging her with her back to my front and her head against my shoulder, where we soak in silence for the most part.

I drain the tub, turning on the spray to the detachable handle and rinsing the suds out of her hair.

She sits at the counter, not meeting my eye in the mirror while I blow dry her curls.

She stays quiet from her spot on the couch in our attached lounge, waiting until I make the bed with fresh sheets.

She turns away from me when I lay her down on her side of the bed, curled up on herself.

Switching off the lamp, I leave the fireplace on low and get in on my side. I move to lay against her, but she doesn't relax out of her curled up position.

Worry fills me .

"Mel," I say softly, running my hand down her hair. "Mel, talk to me. What's wrong?" I give her a second, but she doesn't respond and that worry balloons into almost a full on panic. "Mel, please?" I plead hoarsely.

"I'm hurting, that's all," she says quietly in a strained voice. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to cry. I really enjoyed it but the after… hurts," she sniffs.

"It's okay," I say quietly, reaching around to brush my fingers down her damp cheek.

"The first time usually hurts, but it won't always.

" I reassure her, moving my hand down her arm in what I pray is a comforting gesture.

When she doesn't respond, I turn her to face me, arranging our limbs together. "I can get you some medicine?"

She nods, and I pull away from her once more to go back into the bathroom, where I grab a couple of pain killers and get a glass of water.

I take it back to her and sit her up, waiting until she swallows it before joining her back in bed.

I tuck her into the nook of my body and smooth her hair back over and over again.

I replay the last hour over and over again.

Fuck, I was too rough. I feel like an asshole.

I waited so long for this, fantasized about taking Melody's virginity just about every way possible over the last three years, and not one time did it end with her crying.

Pressing my lips to her forehead, I soften my voice even more. "I'll be more gentle next time, Mel," I reassure her.

"No, it was perfect." She shifts a little to straighten her legs, not even wanting to put her leg over mine. But despite her words, I vow to be more gentle, even if she doesn't want me to be.

We relax into sleep together, my thoughts shifting to planning our upcoming nuptials.

** *

I get up before her the next morning, and I don't bother hitting the switch to activate the electric curtains. I go to the dresser in the dark and grab my watch, seeing it's five in the morning. I look back at the bed.

Melody's on her stomach. The curve of her ass is enticing, the sheets mold to her perfectly highlighting the plump twin globes, and the divot of her crack in between.

My cock stirs, and I head into the bathroom closing the door behind me.

I won't be fucking her today. Starting up the shower, I go in and fist my erection with one hand, and brace the other against the wall.

Pumping and pumping. Imagining every filthy sound she made last night until I spill my seed, watching the water wash down the drain.

I shower quickly, shave, then dress in my closet before walking to her side and selecting a simple light gray maxi dress with spaghetti straps and a lace bra and panty set, laying it on my side of the bed for her to see when she wakes up.

I doubt she'll want to go for a run this morning.

Not after last night.

I bend down and kiss her cheek, making my way to my in home study where I sit at my desk and flick on the monitors mounted on the wall. Readying myself for the pre-market.

I check my phone, seeing all the texts from everyone.

Twenty from Hendrix, a couple from Isobel. My mother called ten times, leaving a voicemail each time. Teresa called. Even Gwen. Ignoring them, I put the phone face down on my desk and flit my eyes to the screens, monitoring the numbers.

I work for almost three hours before my chef texts me that breakfast is done. I get up, and head down to the kitchen seeing the spread of oatmeal, fruit, and scrambled eggs with cheese .

Melody doesn't like to eat meat in the morning.

"Thank you," I say, reaching forward and grabbing the tray I'd instructed him to make. I pause, "Um, Daniel. Do we happen to have a small vase somewhere?"

His brow furrows. "No, sir, we only have the big one at the front in the foyer."

I turn quickly grabbing a cup and filling it with water, then go to the foyer where I snag a few of the fresh flowers and put it in the cup.

I grab the tray and walk back into the bedroom, seeing Melody has turned on her back, the sheets have slipped down baring her breasts and her entire left side.

I set the tray on the edge of the bed and then turn our beside lights on medium setting. Sitting on the edge of her side of the bed I lean down and press my lips to hers. "Good morning." I say quietly against her lips, pressing a palm to the side of her head.

i pull away as she stirs, wiggling down the bed a little. The sheet falls off almost completely with the intensity of her stretch. She makes a little humming sound, arching her back so hard it pops. I grin, waiting for her to open her eyes.

Melody relaxes into the bed on a sigh and then opens her eyes. She blinks, making eye contact with me and then stiffens on a sharp inhale, shooting straight up in the bed and snatching the sheet to her body. "Mason!" she yelps.

My brows raise. "Yes?"

She's breathing hard, looking around. After a second she calms down and puts a hand to her eyes rubbing. "I thought-"

"You thought?" I press, placing my hand on her calf and rubbing up to her knee where I squeeze.

"I thought that I'd dreamt last night," she says almost breathlessly, giving me a shy look before turning her face away .

I smile. "Do you often have dreams like that?" I tease her.

She bites her lip, blushing.

Standing up, I retrieve her breakfast tray and place it over her lap. She sits back further against the pillows and shoves the sheet under her arms tightly.

"The flowers are pretty. Thank you," she says, reaching forward and grabbing the orange juice first.

I raise my hand and rub my fingers down her cheek. "You're welcome, sweetheart."

Her eyes fall to the foo, and she shifts, looking uncomfortable. "Who's supposed to eat all this?"

"It's for us to share." I lower my eyes, seeing it is quite a lot of food.

Her eyes snap to mine. "Share?"

"Hmhm. Like we do our sodas."

Her eyes go back to the plate and she sets her orange juice down, picking up a spoon and dipping it into the oatmeal. But before she puts it in her mouth her eyes slide to the side and roam the covers. "I've never had breakfast in bed before."

"Really?" I tilt my head. "Not ever?"

She shakes her head, leaning forward to eat the first bite of her oatmeal. "No, mom never let me. She was really strict. Every meal had to be at the table."

I take the spoon from her and eat a bite of my own, followed by a scoop of eggs. I swallow, washing it down with some water. "Well, I say we have breakfast in bed every morning."

"Oh no," Melody says sharply, meeting my eyes. My brow arches at how serious her face gets. "I can't do that," she says rapidly. "I have to run in the mornings. I have to-"

She cuts off her speech looking at the nightstand and then over at mine .

"What is it?" I say, scooping up more oatmeal and offering it to her.

"What time is it?" she says, letting me feed her.

"It's eight-thirty."

"In the morning?" Melody squeaks, putting the back of her hand to her lips.

Boy, she will not let that sheet fall. She is clutching onto it for her life.

"Hmhm."

"Mason, school!" she says trying to move the tray. "I gotta go to school; I'm missing my first class!" I put out a hand to stop her.

"No school today," I say sternly. "I already called them and informed your teachers that you are out sick today. You'll go back tomorrow. Today, you rest, and we pick out your wedding dress for our wedding on Saturday."

Her head recoils in shock, and her voice goes up an octave or two. "Wedding dress?" Her brows furrow together. "Saturday? That's in two days!"

"I know."