ONE.
I tell myself no, but maybe that’s just me playing games in order to survive the world I live in, like a game of Chance or Sorry. Hell, I’d even take Chutes and Ladders at this point.
“What’s so funny?” Del pulls the towel tighter around her, pushing her breasts up against her chest. My tongue goes dry, so I look away. I don’t want to make her uncomfortable, but damn, does she even know how gorgeous she is? How tempting?
“Ah, I was just thinking about board games. You play?”
Her smile lights up the room as she tosses her brown hair over her shoulder; the water lingering in it starts slowly streaming down her back and shoulders. My mouth goes dry again. “I used to love playing Sorry.”
“And why’s that?” My smile joins hers.
She just shrugs. “Because I never was.”
“Was what?”
“Sorry.” She gives me a teasing look I feel pulsating through my body for the next two hours until we’re on our next excursion, something I never really planned but decided we needed after yesterday. Viewing the world from the back of a horse offers a different perspective. God knows I need a different way of looking at things after hearing that someone close to me wants me dead.
Two hours later and I’m still in the wrong mindset that has me thinking about her instead of survival, instead of the messed-up situation we’re in.
I’m so excited and distracted I almost forget about Tiffany and Roman. That is until I see them getting on their horses behind us, expressions serious as if this was some sort of scene from Yellowstone. I guess they aren’t wrong in that aspect. Any person could get us out here, but I felt like she needed to be free for a minute, hell even longer than that, so horseback riding with wine it is!
“Whoa!” Del jumps back against me. “My horse is huge.”
Not the only thing that’s huge; I want to tease. Instead, I’m quiet. It feels wrong in front of Roman, and as jealous as I am, it still feels unfair. “Get on.”
Roman grunts under his breath.
I roll my eyes. “The horse, you dipshit.”
His glare remains fixed on his face. I decide to ignore it and help Del onto her horse, then jump up behind her.
“Whoa!” she says. The horse stops; everyone else pauses and watches her. “You’re on my horse?”
I grab the reins from her hands and lean down so only she can hear. “A good queen leads her king, not the other way around, so lead us.” I leave out the sweetheart or love endearment ending to that sentence.
Her hands actually freeze within the reins before I finally take control for her wrapping my hands around hers, and lightly hit the reins against the horse so we can start moving forward. I feel Roman’s eyes on us. I wonder if it’s so wrong to wish that he would see how she and I could also fit and be perfect for each other.
He and Tiffany are silent as they ride behind us.
The hills are pretty along with the vineyard as we ride, and I think of her smile and end up smiling along as if she’s still looking at me with that same perfect look.
“Picnic time,” I announce once we’re by the river, more excited about food than I’ve ever been because it’s with her. I’ve been counting her smiles, and right now, she deserves at least two more that I want to give her.
“I love picnics!” she says, removing her hands from mine like I’ve been holding her captive. Sad our ride, our touches are over; I just get off the horse then help her down while Tiffany and Roman get off theirs and stand close by.
“I thought—” I start, then release a sigh. “I thought it would feel safe.”
Her head jerks up toward me, her eyes flash. “Safe? Oh, King, when will we ever be safe?” Her hand lifts, but in just a few seconds, she drops it like she was thinking twice about touching me.
Ouch.
I’m sick of the games already, sick of pretending when all I’ve ever wanted was her, is her, always, forever. Part of me feels selfish for taking this marriage option—even though I had no choice, I always wanted her to have one. I would never wish this on anyone. The thought that she feels forced to be with me when she wants him makes me sick, and yet I don’t stop even though I know I probably should. It feels like we’re small little pawns in a giant game of chess we’re not allowed to leave. Holy shit, we’re our own version of Squid Game because if we leave—we die. If we don’t win, we die. We have no other choice. One day I’ll have the power to send her away, to let her choose her own life, and I hope I’ll be strong enough then to say the words, “You’re free.” When all I want to do is whisper, “Stay.”
I nod despite myself. “You’re right. We just need to enjoy the moments until it ends, right?” Please agree, please say it’s okay because what the hell am I going to do when you say you want out? When you say screw your own family, the blood, all oaths, and run away? Far, far away from me?
Would my heart be able to even take it?
She seems unable to form words for a minute, which is so terrifying I nearly forget to breathe, but eventually, she nods, and that’s all I need.
We sit in near silence. I pour wine, offer her cheese, give her some more wine when her glass is empty, and realize that this will not be the picnic I wanted or deserved
Roman refuses to look away from us, and I think about the dark fact that someone’s coming for me. Do I want to be that guy that regrets everything while looking down the barrel of a shotgun?
Nope.
Never.
I want to go out feeling the way I felt when I had her in my arms, when my hands were on her breasts, her legs wrapped around my body.
My moves are quick as I grab her and toss her onto her back against the picnic blanket. “I’m going to love you.”
“Wh-what? Right here?”
“Meh, where else?” I tease with a grin.
She pales.
I don’t care because I’m not here to hurt her. I’m here to love her. I’m here to save her.
“Hey, Roman,” I call, my face close to hers, “can you grab us some more champagne?”
He stares me down, the way someone would look at a person ready to steal everything you’ve ever wanted and smile about it. “Sure, boss.”
I know that gives us maybe five minutes? Ten tops, but I don’t care; I just need her here with me.
I need us.
The minute he disappears, I attack in the best way possible with all the best moves possible, in all the best places possible. Damn, I have a fucking outline in my head of all the places I want to touch and taste.
She glances up at me, her eyes uncertain as I shove her backward farther against the blanket we’re both sitting on.
I shove up the bottom of her sundress past her thighs; she’s wearing a cute white thong I want to lick then eat just for pleasure.
I tug at it with my teeth, pulling it to the side, and then my tongue hits her lips, her core, I find her heat, and I relish the sensation of my heart pulsing with it. She’s so ready for me with her body, even if she doesn’t say it with her words. I could eat her all day and still starve to death.
She squirms but doesn’t pull away.
“Yessss,” I say, her thighs tremble around my head, squeezing me tight the way I’m licking her tightness, wishing my dick was the one making her full.