“Perfect.” I lie. “I should probably get going soon anyway…” You know, since I’m about to give myself to your King—to mine.
“About that.” Roman curses under his breath. “Just remember, it’s only a week. Once all of this is over, we’ll figure it out, the three of us. The whole point is to align the families in an archaic way that your uncle came up with. Once that’s done… I guess once that’s done, why would King want to even sleep in the same bed as you? When you’re in love with someone else? I mean, no offense to him, he’s tough as hell, but who wants to deal with that sort of rejection every day?”
Him, I almost say. Because he’s strong. Because he puts everyone first but himself. “I don’t know, Roman. Let’s talk about it when I’m not ready to pass out.”
“He’s a guy.” Roman’s rasp sounds annoyed. “Besides that, he knows you’re with me; the last thing he’s going to do is to draw this night out. You’ll probably be watching TV in fifteen minutes.”
King’s forearms flex as he leans over the balcony; his muscles are visible and well-defined even from here. Something tells me he’s not going to be a one and done sort of guy or that he’s going to last thirty seconds and roll over and start snoring.
My body shivers. I lie. “You’re right. I have nothing to worry about.”
“Just try to enjoy it,” he says. “And think of me.”
“I love you,” I say.
“I love you more,” he says it right back. “Just shower afterward, and you’ll feel better. You’ll smell like you again; you’ll feel clean.”
So why is my first thought that I want to stay dirty? “Yeah, you’re totally right.”
“Goodnight, princess.”
“Queen.” I correct him with a smirk.
“Wow, you’re going to be tough to live with, aren’t you?” He laughs. “Thanks, I needed that.”
“Yeah.” I’m still smiling when I hang up minutes later and approach the glass door that leads to the balcony.
I take another sip of champagne, set down my phone, and hold my head high, ready to serve my King.
Body.
And soul.
Chapter Fifteen
“Sometimes I’m terrified of my heart; of its constant hunger for whatever it wants. The way it stops and starts.” —Edgar Allan Poe
King
I want to punch something. I imagine how good it would feel to have blood dripping from my knuckles after punching this stupid building over and over again.
The pain would release my suffering.
But I don’t want to scare her.
So instead, I stand. I stare. I breathe. And I don’t turn around because I know what I’ll see. Her cheeks will be bright with excitement. Her smile wide. And she’ll finally be relaxed. And then I’ll have to watch her smile drop, her eyes too, and I’ll know it’s because she was staring at me instead of him.
I’ve done a lot of shitty things, lived through hell over and over again with my family, and I’d suffer through all of them for an eternity just so I don’t have to see the sadness on her face and the utter disappointment that I’m the wrong guy.
Fuck, I don’t even know how to do this.
I send a quick text to Junior, Maksim, Ash, Valerian, and Tank.
Me: I’ve literally forgotten how to have sex.
Of course, Valerian responds right away, the shit.
Valerian: Slot A goes into Slot B, rub a dub dub, thanks for the grub, yay God!
Me: The fact that you even get laid is staggering to me…
Tank: I will never think of eating the same way again. Thanks for that.
Ash: I get the whole Slot A, Slot B, but the rubbing? I mean, she’s not a fucking genie. Don’t rub her that hard, bro. There is no prize for rubbing. But yeah, totally, thank God, because, duh, sex.
Junior: I’m disappointed in humanity—no, scratch that, just you guys. Bro, don’t slot her. Is that even a word? Like, don’t just… thrust, you know this, right? Are we really having a sex talk with the guy who seduced his tutor?
Valerian: Ah, Dad was so pissed, best day ever.
Me: She was hot, that was different, slotting someone isn’t actually an action, sorry…
Maksim: Just because you don’t know how…
I rub my hands down my face.
Me: Can we focus? She’s on the phone.
The guys are eerily quiet, probably because they know I’m ready to crunch mine in my hand.
Valerian: Okay, forget my original advice. What’s the end goal here? Are you fucking, or are you making love?
Ash: I cannot believe you actually know the difference!
Junior: Someone paid attention in sex ed.
Maksim: Because our teacher was hot, I’ve never paid closer attention to anyone holding up a doll in my entire life.
Tank: I should hope not because that would be a completely different conversation.
I start to actually panic.
My palms sweat.
I have one minute, maybe two, and I’m losing all my cool because I want it to be good for her, and I want her to enjoy it. Then I feel like a complete dick for even wanting that much. It’s too much. I don’t deserve hours of our bodies together, and that wasn’t the plan, but now… now I have this insane need to prove to her how good it could be.
Maksim: Del is a good person. Period. She’s had it rough and has been able to keep a lot of dark secrets in the name of saving her family and ours… take it slow. She deserves slow even if the guy with her isn’t the one she’s currently on the phone with.
Me: Slow.
Ash: Go slow.
Junior: No rubbing.
Tank: Kiss her on the mouth, don’t be a dumbass.
Valerian: And most definitely rub a bit… exactly where she needs it, craves it. Listen to her body because she won’t be using her words—you know?
Me: Okay. Okay. I gotta go, but, thanks guys.
Maksim immediately sends a duck emoji.
Valerian does the same.
Followed by Ash and Junior.
I smile even though it was the worst advice my brother could have possibly given.
At least I have them. Even if I don’t have her, I have the best friends anyone could ever ask for—even if they should be institutionalized.
I shove my phone back in my pocket and hear the door open behind me. Immediately I’m clenching the railing waiting for her to say something—anything that’s going to put me at ease.
“King…” she whispers my name in such a sultry way that I almost groan. “I think, I think I’m ready.”
“For dinner?” I don’t turn around.
“For…” She’s quiet. “…it.”
I almost laugh. “It?”
“Are you really going to make me say it out loud?”
“Absolutely.” I smile and turn, crossing my arms. “But let’s make sure we have some rules.”
She nods. “Okay.”
“When you’re in my arms, my bed, pressed against me—you’re mine. I can’t control where your head goes, but you better believe I’ll be trying my hardest to make it difficult to even remember your own reflection. I thought about it, and I won’t take this fast as if you’re just some girl I fuck in order to take over an empire. That’s not fair to either of us.” I lift my chin. “Now, take off your clothes.”