The Prince and I

by R. S. Lively

  “I love you so much that it causes me physical pain to be away from you,” I admit, running my hand up her body. The body that’s mine.

  She turns around, and much to my dismay, my cock slips out, and the water clouds from my semen leaving her body. Damn it, what a waste.

  “I love you too, Luca. Thank you for making me happy for the first time in years.”

  I hold her hand to my heart, letting her feel the strong pumps that she causes. “You’ve made me the luckiest man alive.” And I mean that. No other woman that my family picks will ever be good enough because I already have the best. “You’re shaking. Let’s get you back inside, and we will take a nice hot bath again, what do you think?”

  “I think I’ll go anywhere with you.”

  My lips tilt up in a happy smirk. “To the bath it is then.” I pick her up in a wedding-style hold and carry her out of the pool until we are at the table where our robes are. She covers up her beautiful body, and my mind is already thinking of ways to get her naked again.

  “Take a picture; it’ll last longer.” She squeezes the excess water out of her hair.

  I tug on the knot she just tied and watch it part, still covering her perky breasts, but not hiding the curve of the mounds. “So sassy. You aren’t shy at all. I’m starting to think it’s a ruse.” I love her fire. I find it infuriating and arousing all at the same time. I want to spank her but soothe the sting right after. “Or maybe I’m lucky and all this is just for me.”

  “It’s always been all for you. Even before I knew you. I was yours. I don’t think you understand how much you changed my life that night at the ball. You consumed my mind every single night. I knew I’d never meet another man like you.”

  I give her a quick, loving peck, something done out of habit, like a couple that have been together for years. It’s hard to believe we have only been together for a few days, or is it months? If I want to be honest with myself, while we were apart, I never slept with anyone else, because Rosie is all I thought about. We were together then—we might not have known it, but our souls did.

  And that’s more than enough for me.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Rosie

  I sleep like a baby in his bed. When I wake up, I stretch, letting my arm fall to his side to touch him. But he isn’t there. The sheets are cold, so he hasn’t been here for a while. I pout. I really wanted to wake him up with a blow job. My eyes flutter open, and when I look out the window, I see that it’s dark out, but not from it being nighttime. The clouds are menacing and maniacal, black as coal. It’s pouring rain and lightning cracks along the sky, leaving thunder in its angry aftermath.

  The wind howls as it blows, reminding me of wolves calling out for each other. The sound is haunting. I shake off the dooming feeling and stretch again; only this time, my hand lands on a piece of paper. “Oh,” I smile, seeing the note he left me.

  My sweet little fox,

  The rain washed out one of the walls on the east side. We are going to repair it. Be safe. I’ll be thinking of you.

  Love Luca.

  I hold the note to my chest like it’s the most important thing in the world. I look out the window again, the rain blowing sideways, hissing against the castle. He’s out there in this? Is he safe? How do I know if he is okay? I roll out of bed, glancing down at my naked form. All of my clothes are in my room, and any clothes I left on the floor next to the bed are gone because Luca decided to give them to Marcel to wash.

  The only thing I have is this sheet. I wrap it around my chest and tuck it in, making sure all of me is covered. I tiptoe to the door and peek out, looking left and right to make sure no one is around. The castle is creepy right now. There isn’t a sound to be heard besides the storm brewing above.

  I squeal, darting across the hall, and slam my body against the door to open it. Once I’m safely inside, I take a breath. Nothing worse than being caught half-naked—I assume anyway, since I’ve never been in this position before. I drop the sheet and rummage through my suitcase, looking for a big T-shirt and shorts.

  “I should have grabbed some of Luca’s.” I turn my head back toward the door and make the choice. Picking the sheet back up, I wrap it around my body again. I dash to his room, not even looking to see if there is anyone walking down the hall and go to his dresser.

  “Bingo,” I sing, picking up a big, green T-shirt and a pair of gym shorts. He doesn’t seem like the gym shorts type of guy, but they are mine now, so he probably won’t even notice they are gone. Once they’re in my grasp, I dart back across the hall and slam my door. Then, I think about how silly it is to act like someone would be lurking in his halls. This is his side of the castle—no one is here unless he requests it.

  I can probably streak down the hall in the nude all day and no one would see. To be safe, I’m not chancing it. I drop the sheet again and slip his clothes on. The shirt smells of him. I bring the soft cloth to my nose and take a deep breath, loving how he smells. It makes me feel close to him, being surrounded by his scent like this.

  The lights flickering bring me out of my Luca daze. I look up, watching the fancy chandeliers blink. It’s touch-and-go for a second, but they stay on, and a breath I don’t realize I’m holding bursts from deep within my chest.

  Until the lights flicker again. And this time, they damn me to darkness. “Don’t be scared. It’s fine. You’re fine.” I tell myself. I can’t see anything right now. Luckily, the lightning is filling the sky, so the windows provide natural light to the dark room. Every few seconds when a bolt strikes, I take a step toward the bed.

  The floorboard creaks behind me, making my heart beat faster. No one is here. It’s fine. I’m fine.

  Another bolt of lightning veins across the sky, illuminating the bedroom. I step another step.

  The floor creaks to my right. I squeeze my eyes shut, willing the sound away. It’s an old castle, the lights are out, it’s nothing to be scared of. Nothing. The floorboards are probably original, and with every step I take, they groan.

  Another crack of lightning dances across the sky, brightening the room. I scream as a figure appears on the other side of the bed, but when the angry sound of electricity screams outside, lighting the room, the figure is gone.

  “It’s all in my head. It’s all in my head,” I repeat, spinning around in circles like a maniac, trying to spy the fake culprit. I don’t see the figure again and decide my imagination is getting the best of me. I sit on the bed and press a hand to my chest, laughing from my hysteria. What are the chances that someone else is here? No one can get past the guards.

  Climbing up the rest of the bed, I lean against the headboard, getting under the covers and watching the storm rain its fury. Pulling the covers under my nose reminds me of what I used to do when I was a little girl afraid of the dark. I’m not little anymore, but right now, the dark is messing with my mind.

  I don’t think it matters how old someone is; the dark can be a scary place if it’s used for its void. The groaning of the floorboards echoes through the room, and I whimper. A part of me wants to hide under the blanket, and maybe all the threat will go away. “Nothing is there. Nothing is there. Nothing is there.” I rock back and forth like a crazy person, telling myself over and over again so maybe I’ll believe it.

  “Rosie.” A whisper drifts through the room. It’s light, like air, barely audible, but it is there. Someone said my name. I heard it!

  “Hello?” I ask with hesitance, sliding my eyes around the room to see if it lands on anything. But with it so dark, I can’t make out anything except the windows. Maybe the castle is haunted? It is old, and people have probably died here because of how ancient it is.

  “Rosie,” the voice singsongs, and then lets out a sinister laugh.

  I know that laugh.

  My lungs freeze and sweat seeps from my pores. This time, I’m frantic when I look across the room. I dive for the lamp and yank it from the socket, preparing myself for a fight. “Who’s there?!” I sc
ream as hot, thick tears burn my cheeks.

  No answer.

  “I know you’re there!” I shout, sitting up on my knees, holding the lamp like a baseball bat. Taking chances isn’t in my DNA. I swing the lamp in front of me, swishing it through the air a few times to see if I hit anything. Fear drives me. I keep swinging.

  To the left of me.

  To the right.

  In front of me.

  But no matter how many times I try, I hit nothing but air. I whimper, terror basking my skin, propelling heat through my veins. Sweat drips down my forehead, the tickle not even enough for me to wipe it away. I’m too focused on finding out who is in my room.

  Am I losing my mind?

  Sweat and tears mix, and I look for something, anything that can prove my madness. But the darkness hides it.

  The familiar sound of weight being pressed against a weak spot of the floor makes my skin trembles. I gulp, wondering, whoever it is, if they are close to me. “What do you want?” I ask, a high level of fear evident in the tenor trembling in my throat.

  Something scraps against the wall, and I lift the lamp over my shoulder and heave it in the direction of the noise. It bangs against the stone with a hard shatter, pieces of it falling to the floor.

  The lights flicker again, and my door slams open, causing a blood-curdling scream to rip from my soul.

  “Woah, hey. What’s wrong? Are you okay?” The familiar sound of Luca’s voice wraps me in safety, and I break.

  He sits on the bed, and I tackle him, holding him down as I sob. I can’t form words. I can hardly think. Someone was here. Someone else is here.

  “Whenever you’re ready.”

  “Someone is here,” I choke out. Grabbing onto his soaked clothes from the rain.

  It’s a good thing he is wet, because my tears are enough to drench him.

  “What do you mean? No one is here except me and you.”

  The lights come on at the perfect time, and I roll my head in the direction the scraping noise came from. “Lu… Luca.” I point toward the wall with a quivering hand.

  His eyes follow my finger, and when he sees what I see, he runs to it and dips his finger into the red paint. “It’s still wet.” He rubs the fresh liquid between his fingers, wondering how in the world it got there.

  “I knew it! I thought I was losing my mind, but someone was here. Oh, god. I’m going to be sick.” I jump off the bed and run to the bathroom, dry heaving in the toilet since I’ve had nothing for breakfast.

  The loud boom of his voice startles me. “I want every guard on duty to search the premises and tell me why someone was in my sweet’s room!” He yells so loud I swear the room shakes with his fury.

  The clanking of armor speeding down the hall tells me the guards have already left. I hold onto the toilet with all my might, dry heaving again when another wave of fear conquers me.

  “Rosie.” Luca falls to his knees next to me and holds my hair. “You aren’t staying alone again; do you hear me? Never again.”

  His words don’t soothe me though. There is someone here wanting me. “I’m scared,” I admit.

  “Oh, my sweet little fox, I know. I’m sorry I wasn’t here.” He pulls my head to his chest, holding me close as if he is afraid someone will take me from his grasp.

  Another wave of nausea hits, and I lurch into the toilet again, only puking up stomach acid. The words written on the wall will haunt me for the rest of my life.

  Ring around the Rosie

  Pocket full of Posie

  Ashes, ashes, until

  She’s mine.

  “Everything is going to be okay. I’m not going to let anything happen to you,” Luca reaffirms, but I know he can’t promise that.

  If the attacker can get into a royally guarded house, he can get in anywhere. I’m officially up for grabs, whether Luca and I like it or not.

  “Come on; let’s get you into another wing.”

  I clutch onto Luca’s arm, not believing what I’m hearing. “I don’t want to be with you. Don’t make me stay in another wing alone, please.”

  He holds my jaw in his palm, running the familiar thumb over the high contours of my cheek. “I’m never leaving you. I’m coming with you. There is a separate wing in the castle no one knows about. I’ll have Marcel bring some of my things. We are going now.” His fingers intertwine with my hand, dragging me behind him as we leave the bathroom and go to the room I’m staying in.

  Luca packs up all my stuff and takes my bags, holding his hand out for me to take once everything is ready. We don’t say a word as we walk down the rest of what is considered his wing. The paintings on the wall are beautiful, and I want to so badly to stop and stare, but Luca is practically running down the stone hallway. We take a left, walk another five minutes, then take a right.

  “Just how big is this place?” I ask in wonderment.

  “Big enough that you will get lost if you weren’t raised here,” he says. “Come on; we need to move faster. He’s probably still here.”

  That lights a fire under my ass. I am jogging compared to his fast walking. We take three more lefts and a right before coming to a large door that reminds me of something from Lord of the Rings. It’s huge. And it has a key hole that fits a vintage key. Luca runs his hands over the stone framing it.

  “Three across, four diagonal, five across, three up,” he mumbles as his hands land on a loose brick. He pulls it out and reaches his hand into the deep, cobwebbed hole.

  I imagine something taking his arm and ripping it off—he is reaching in as far as his shoulder. The thought frightens me, and I cup my hand over my mouth, hoping he will be okay. “Almost have it,” he says as he struggles, stretching to try to find whatever he is looking for. He lets out a relieved breath, “Got it.”

  He pulls his arm out, and his suit is covered in dust and cobwebs, but in his hand is an old, rusted iron key. It’s thick. Like it’s an original key from back in the day.

  “It looks old,” I say, crossing my arms over one another to keep myself warm when I feel a breeze coming through the door.

  “It is. This is one of the original chambers, built first. It hasn’t been used in years, but we keep it clean for moments like this.”

  “Moments for crazy people leaving messages on the wall. That’s specific,” I mumble.

  He chuckles. “Moments of need when something bad happens.” He inserts the key into the lock, and when he turns the old key, it’s like shackles fall off the door with how much the metal groans.

  I look up as the sound travels through the ceiling. “Creepy.”

  He smirks but doesn’t add to my conclusion. He pushes the door open with both hands, and what’s behind this old piece of wood leaves me speechless. “Wow,” I say, tilting my head up. The ceilings must be three hundred feet. I spin around, taking it all in. There’s a fireplace the size of my apartment on one wall and a huge gothic style bed on the other. An old fur rug sits between the two. “This is beautiful.”

  “I knew you would like it. I’m going to make a fire. Why don’t you get in bed, and I’ll bring you a glass of wine.” He bends down and gives me a quick kiss.

  I don’t argue. I run toward the giant bed and jump on it, bouncing a few times before plopping down and covering myself with the soft, fluffy quilt.

  Luca takes off his suit jacket and unbuttons his shirt. He takes it off, and ropes of muscles show. He tosses the shirt on a red velvet chair and runs his hands through his messy, rain-watered hair. He looks sexy.

  He bends over and grabs a few decent-sized logs. Not regular pieces of firewood, oh no. Not for this fireplace. His muscles flex and bulge, picking up the heavy trees and settling them inside. I have never seen a fireplace so large, and for it to need half trees? This fire is going to burn forever. He picks up some hay and lights a bundle with a lighter, tossing it under the wood.

  After he sees that it’s lighting the way he wants, he disappears into another door and comes out with a bottle of wine and
two wine glasses. This place is like a fun house.

  “You okay?” he asks.

  “I’m better now.”

  And that couldn’t be more true.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Luca

  The past two days have been an absolute nightmare. The only thing good to come from it is the doctor getting back to me and giving us a date for my mother’s surgery. It means that I need to go talk to them, asap.

  Rosie still seems scared of her own shadow, and it kills me. I know who is behind her fear, too. It has to be Graham. I don’t know how he got in the castle, but it will be the last time anyone breaks into my home and intimidates my sweet.

  “Come on; I need to go talk to my parents,” I say, standing up from the chair after tying my shoes. I hold out my hand for her to take, and she smiles, lacing her fingers with mine. Since we are so off the beaten track in the castle, it takes us fifteen minutes to get to the main floor where my parents are.

  We trudge up with heavy footsteps, exhaustion setting into our bones after what happened the other day. I lift my hand and knock on the door. My father answers, and his eyes widen when he sees that I have a guest. He knew about Rosie, but I’m not sure if he is aware of our connection.

  “Come on, son,” he says, opening the door wider.

  My mother is lying in the same spot I saw her in the other day, looking sicker, edging closer to death. She flashes us the biggest smile she can muster, her once-beautiful wrinkle-free skin now showing signs of aging. “You must be Rosie.”

  Rosie takes a step forward and holds out her hand. “Yes. It is officially nice to meet you, Queen Addington.”

  “Oh, please. Call me Carolina.” Her French accent is a little thicker than normal.

  “Carolina,” Rosie blushes.

  “We have news,” I say, crossing the room with determined strides until I get to my father’s side. “We found one of the best neurosurgeons. He gave us a date he can perform the surgery on Mother. I didn’t tell you earlier because I didn’t want us to get our hopes up if he decided not to do it. But he says we can’t waste any more time. It needs to happen soon.”