“I’m glad you’re enjoying it.” I discreetly check my watch, counting down the minutes until this evening is over.
Her eyes roam over my plate as I sit back and drink the rest of my akevitt. “Aren’t you going to finish your dinner?”
“I’m not very hungry.” I shove my half-finished meal aside.
“That’s too bad.” Her voice dips, taking on a raspy quality. “I’m starving.”
It isn’t difficult to comprehend the meaning behind her words. But she makes the additional effort of encouraging her affection by reaching out to graze my arm. Unlike Ella, her touch sends a chill through my veins, and I withdraw without a second thought. Lavinia narrows her eyes at me but recovers quickly.
“When you’re finished, we can take a walk in the garden.” I try to move the agenda my father planned along at a breakneck pace.
Lavinia nods but takes her time, drawing out the meal as long as she can. In that time, I have three more glasses of akevitt, and I’m bleary-eyed and unsteady when we finally depart the dining room. She secures her arm in mine without asking, and I’m just drunk enough that I can pretend I don’t give a fuck as we step into the garden.
The scent of roses and lavender carry on the breeze, mixing with Lavinia’s perfume to create a sickly-sweet smell. The moon alights the path before us, and we walk on in silence, not wandering in any particular direction, and for a second, I manage not to think about anything. Not even the blonde who has been haunting my every waking moment.
“When can I see your estate?” Lavinia asks.
I recall the schedule my father gave me, remembering that it was one of the items I’m supposed to check off. Take Lavinia on a picnic. Another day, the theater. And inevitably, the estate. For a moment, I wonder what she would think of the naked woman hiding in my guest quarters. I wonder how Lavinia would react to the level of depravity she doesn’t even understand I’m capable of.
“Perhaps next week.”
She pauses, her features tight. “Have I done something to upset you, Your Highness?”
I use the opportunity to shrug her off. “What makes you ask such a question?”
“You seem… disinterested.” She pouts. “You’ve been quiet all evening, and I’m just wondering if there’s something I could do to ease your worries, whatever they may be.”
“You mean like your pussy?”
Her mouth falls open, and she puts on a good show of pretending to be stunned by my vulgarity.
“Your Highness!” A blush spreads across her cheeks, and I cock my head to the side, examining her.
“That is what you’re offering, is it not?”
She glances around as if we might have an audience before a secret smile curves her lips. “If that’s what you wish, I would not deny you.”
“Would you deny me your ass? Or your mouth?” I ask forcefully. “What about restraints? Or whipping? Or pain in general? I think it’s only fair that you understand what you’re asking for.”
She visibly flinches but attempts to cover it smoothly with a laugh. “I had no idea you were so… devious.”
“That’s the least of it,” I tell her.
I knew within the first five seconds of meeting her that this woman would never submit to a man. Not willingly. But she thought she could outwit me, and I want to see how far she will go in this scheme of hers to catch a prince. What level of depravity will she tolerate in her pursuit?
“You’re a strong-willed man.” She stares up at me with admiration so fake it nauseates me. “A leader. A prince. The future King of Norway. And I can tell you this, Your Majesty. Nothing would please me more than pleasing you, whatever that entails.”
“Your dedication is admirable.” I offer her a cold smile. “But for now, I think it’s time to say good night.”
“Thorsen?” Ella stirs from sleep, my name a prayer on her lips. How familiar she’s become already.
I should remind her what I am to her. Nothing. But instead, I drag the blanket down off her body, exposing her naked flesh. What a sight she is to behold. The moonlight from the window bathes every curve with a blue halo. The goddess. The angel.
Her legs fall apart easily beneath my palms, and when I kneel between them, her arousal perfumes the air, sweet like wildflowers. My head dips forward, fingers skating up her rib cage to grope her tits. The breath from my lips teases against her pussy, and she breaks out in goose bumps, unconsciously arching her pelvis toward me in offer.
When my tongue lashes her, she moans, thrashing against the bed as I grip her thighs and force her legs back. She is exposed, wet, and wanton. And I should know better than to give her what she craves, but the akevitt has gone to my head, and all I know for certain is I will die right now if I don’t taste her.
I bury my face between her thighs and fuck her with my mouth. Ella responds to me the way only she can. She awakens from her slumbering desire, her fingers curling into the bedspread, breath hissing between her teeth. Her spine arcs up like a feline, the softest notes of musical pleasure playing from her lips. I want to listen to this track on repeat.
I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me, but she’s getting inside my head. Making me feel things. Making me question everything. And still, I can’t stop.
Her breasts heave as the first spasm rocks through her. She cries out and quakes against my mouth, toes curling as her head collapses onto the pillow. The orgasm bleeds every bit of tension from her body, and she’s content, but I’m not.
I’m not in my right mind when my lips graze the inside of her thigh, leaving a kiss there before I roll over beside her and stare up at the ceiling. I want to fuck her more than I’ve ever wanted anything. But things are spinning out of control. I shouldn’t be here in her room in the middle of the night. She shouldn’t be infecting my thoughts during the day and making the seconds more tolerable. Already, there’s a whispering lie promising a future that could never be true.
She could take the darkness away. She could be the antidote for the chaos in my mind.
I can’t ever let myself fall into that trap. I’m thinking of new ways to punish her when she rolls onto her side and reaches out for me hesitantly. Her fingers graze my crotch, and there’s a protest on my lips, but I’m too weak to give voice to it. When she palms my erection through the trousers, a shudder moves through me, and my eyes fall shut. If I can’t see her, I can pretend I’m not defenseless against her enchantment.
The zipper of my trousers comes down, and she cups me through my briefs. Without intending to, I rock up into her palm, silently signaling I need more. Ella doesn’t let me down. Her gentle fingers slip past the band of my briefs and curl around my engorged dick like she owns it.
Maybe it’s the alcohol in my blood, but not knowing what happens next doesn’t make me feel as out of control as it should. I’m not commanding her to do anything. I’m not even watching. I’m just allowing it to happen, and it’s terrifying how okay I am with that right now.
She strokes me like she’s worshipping me. Like I’m her lover, and she wants nothing more than to please me. But we both know that isn’t true. She’s pleasing me for the money, just as I’m only letting her for the release. But for a minute, we can ignore those truths. I can let them fall away as she moves her body closer, her arm brushing against mine as she drags her palm up and down my cock until the tension explodes through my balls.