by Frankie Love
“No,” he says. “You and me, we need to talk.”
Swallowing, I realize he wasn’t making a pass. Of course he wasn’t. He wants to talk, not rip off my panties. I’m such a fool.
Nodding, I say, “Okay, I can do that. We can talk.”
That seems to satisfy Hunter. He nods, offers me his elbow in a diplomatic way, and leads me down the hall as if this is a perfectly normal way to spend the day.
“It’s settled. We’ll go your room, so you can change into something warmer and we can talk. Privately.”
I give him the biggest smile I can muster, and nod. I can do this. Talk. Tour. One thing at a time. No one is asking me to strip down to nothing.
But then he says, “In fact, I can help you out of those clothes.”
I bite harder on my lip, hating that those words send a thrill up my untouched body, hating that they are words I enjoy hearing. No man has ever spoken to me that way.
With burning cheeks, I decide that not responding at all is my best bet. I drop a few feet behind him, letting him lead the way.
When we step into my room, I’m overwhelmed at the decadence. There’s a massive canopy bed in the center, a dark wood wardrobe, an en suite bathroom, and a glowing fireplace flanked by leather chairs.
The room is large enough that I could imagine never needing to leave it, and my entire bedroom back home in Elexia could fit in the closet.
“It’s gorgeous.” Turning in a circle, I take in the entire space. A large window looks out to a snow-covered square, and the mountains in the distance remind me how different this place is from my home.
It isn’t like a castle in fairy tales, with cold stone floors and chamber pots; this is a modern castle, with plush linens on the bed, and heavy drapes.
Hanging outside the wardrobe is an elegant wool dress and a fur coat, with tall leather boots below. My suitcases have already been brought up, and sit near a dresser.
“Quite different than what you’re used to, I presume,” Hunter says, sitting in a club chair with the ease of someone who’s comfortable in his skin, and confident with his role here. It makes sense; this is his home.
“Quite. Elexia is a tropical island, for one, and our castle is all open-air rooms and palm trees. Coconuts and pineapples. Sand between my toes....” My sentence trails off as I blink back tears. Hunter raises his eyes as if considering me, but says nothing.
He coughs, and I twist my lips at the awkwardness of the moment. He’s going to be my husband in a matter of days, but we’ve only just met and he’s clearly uncomfortable with my emotions. Besides, I know virtually nothing about him besides the rumors I’ve read.
I need to understand him. “Jemma says you don’t spend much time here, though—here at the castle?”
He shrugs. “That’s true. I have a home in the woods, where there’s more freedom away from my father, Jemma, the press. I’ll be King eventually, but I have no desire to speed up the process in which I become a bore who prepares for tax day and goes to royal dinners with my wife. Though,” he smirks, looking me over, “my father seems to think that’s exactly what needs to happen.”
I scoff. “Plenty of press seems to find you out in the woods. I swear there’s a different article about you each week.”
He smiles—sadly?—raising his eyebrows, patting his hand on the empty chair opposite him. “Sit. Tell me everything you know about me.”
I roll my eyes, unable to restrain myself. He really is an arrogant bastard, wanting me to dole out details to stroke his ego.
I have plans of my own. I sit, cross my ankles, and attempt to be as diplomatic as possible. “Listen, Hunter. I know the terms of this marriage. Neither of us had any say in this arrangement.”
His eyes narrow again. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying I don’t need you to flirt with me or try to sleep with me. I know your reputation, and I’m perfectly okay with being your wife and the two of us never have to ... you know.”
He smirks. “No, I don’t know. What are you trying to say, Sunshine?”
I know he’s playing with me. Still, I want him to understand that I’m not looking for a lover. I am doing this because Elexia needs this alliance. I’m doing it out of duty. Nothing more, nothing less.
“I’m trying to say we don’t need to sleep together to be a royal couple.” I know I sound stiff and formal, but I need to be. Taking a practical approach to this is the only way it’s going to work. Otherwise my heart will become all mushy, forgetting what matters.
What matters is that I help Elexia from afar, and I’ll need my husband’s blessing if I want to spend lots of time back in my home county.
“I can be your wife and you can have a mistress. Or two. Or hell, three. I’m just saying … the sexual innuendos, the ones where you mention warming me up and undressing me—they just aren’t necessary.”
He sits up straighter, taking me in. “You’re wrong, Violet.”
“About what?”
“About it being unnecessary.” He smiles, loosening his tie and unbuttoning his suit coat. “This marriage will need to be consummated before your precious Elexia is paid the promised dowry.” He stands, and his height intimidates me. It’s like he knows exactly what kind of man he is, and what kind of control he has over women.
“Well, technically, I suppose.” I swallow. Hard.
“Not technically. You only want to sleep with me once? Fine. But you’d better be prepared for a night you will always remember.”
His finger runs up my arm, sending shivers across my body.
“Not until our wedding night,” I tell him, inhaling the moment, hating how much I like the way his attention is on me, undivided.
He smiles. “I know you’re a rule follower, so I’m not surprised that you think you can wait. But Violet, don’t think I won’t try to have my way with you before then.” He walks to the wardrobe, eyeing the outfit laid out for me. “Now, don’t you think it’s time you dressed, so I can take you on the royal tour?”
“Yes,” I say, relieved to change the subject. “And you need to get out so I can change.” I stand walking toward him.
He shakes his head. “If we’re waiting a week to consummate, I think that means you’re scared. How about we take this next week to work up to a grand finale?”
“The finale being sex?”
“Yes, Sunshine. Sex.” Using both hands, he takes me by the waist and pulls me close. Without thinking, I raise my chin, meeting his gaze.
And before I can pull away, his mouth is on mine.
Chapter 6
My mouth sinks against her unkissed lips, and I know she’s trying hard to hate it, but it’s impossible. She loves the way my tongue darts past her lips, parting them, as she lets out the slightest moan. I cup my hand around her heart-shaped face, holding her against me.
My cock twitches and I already know there is no way in hell I’ll be able to only take her once. Damn, she’s trying to play hard to get, but I know she’s turned on. A woman wouldn’t let her body melt against mine so quickly if she wanted to refuse me.
Instead of pushing away, she kisses me deeper, harder, both of us exploring one another’s mouths with fire and intensity. She may be uptight, but I plan to loosen her up one kiss at a time.
I know she wants it. Her tits press against my chest, and what I wouldn’t give to pull down her dress and lick her tight nipples. I bet I could get her to come just by putting my mouth against her breast.
Fuck, I won’t have to wait a week if she’s this willing to forget her boundaries. I can have her stripped on that bed, her legs spread, within the hour.
Just as I’m thinking about pulling up the hem of her dress, she pulls away. Shock is written on her face; her eyes are wide. She steps back and slaps me straight against the cheek.
“Fuck, woman.” I press my hand to my cheek, feigning injury. The truth is, her slap was merely a pat for a man like me. “So you like to play hard to get and you like it rough? Good to
know, Sunshine.”
“Stop calling me Sunshine,” she insists.
“Aww, my wifey doesn’t like pet names?”
“No, I don’t. And I also don’t like to be kissed. Not like that.”
I step toward her again. “Oh, yes you do, Violet. You’re just not ready to admit it.”
She purses her lips, crosses her arms, determined to hold back from what she clearly wants. I know she loved that kiss. Her body was pressed against mine and her nipples hard against my chest. Her mouth was much too open for a woman who didn’t want to be taken by a mountain prince.
But I’m not going to push her faster than she wants to go. The last thing I need is for her to walk away from this deal.
Because right now I want two things:
To kiss her again, and fuck her hard.
In no particular order.
“I understand. Let me leave you to change, get settled, and I’ll meet you back here in an hour—sound good?”
“Thank you, Hunter.” She presses her knuckles to her lips, and turns from me. I swear she’s got her thighs pressed tight against one another. Her pussy must be aching the same way my cock is.
I leave her room and head straight for mine. I need a cold shower before I can think about anything else.
Stepping into my suite, I take off the ridiculous royal suit and turn on the gold-plated shower. The water pours down in the double-headed shower and all I want in this moment is for Violet to be in here with me.
Not forever, obviously—but, to be honest, her proposition of me having a mistress is the farthest thing from my mind. Right now, all I want is her.
Maybe it’s because I always want what I can’t have. And right now the thing I can’t have is her submission.
Which is fucking news to me. I always have the woman I want. Not once has a woman turned away from sleeping with me.
I step into the shower, and it’s impossible to not think about Violet. Our kiss was so fucking hot—her body against me, the way she slapped my face when she pulled back. It just proved that she’s terrified of giving in to what she wants. And I know what she really wants.
Me.
Water pours from the showerhead, the icy rivulets covering my skin. I need to cool the fuck down. Violet … her tits full and round in that tiny little dress, the thin material revealing hard nipples that she probably wished I didn’t see. Damn, that girl was on fire.
Underneath the cold water, I’m on fire too. My cock is raging hard, all ten inches of its massive glory.
I touch myself, my hands stroking my thickness, dreaming about her pressed harder, harder, harder against me. I imagine her spreading her legs as I fill her bare, virginal pussy. I know she was wet when we kissed. No woman pulls back from me, and there must be a good reason for it.
I know Violet’s reason was fear.
I guess I’ll have to explain to her that she has nothing to be scared of. I stroke myself faster, thinking about our kiss, pre-come releasing from the tip of my cock.
Her tongue slid across mine as if she’d never been kissed before. Damn, maybe she never has been. Clearly the virgin vibe was going strong.
She thinks I’m just a playboy, a stereotypical asshole, giving me permission to have my own woman on the side. Violet doesn’t seem at all swayed by me. It makes me fucking hard for her. Willing to do anything to have her.
She has no idea that I want her, and I don’t want anything else.
One taste of her pouty lips told me that.
Oh, hell—my cock is close to release, my balls tight as fuck. The frigid water falls over me. Yes, yes, yes … I pull on my cock harder as I think of her ass, how I need to squeeze it.
I think about that as I come hard and fast.
Violet has no idea what she wants? She hasn’t seen anything yet.
I plan on showing her plenty.
Chapter 7
When Hunter leaves my room, I shut my door, lock it, then fall against it. My shoulders drop; my knees are still weak. I touch my fingers to my lips, wanting to feel if they’re swollen.
They are.
I can’t believe Hunter and I kissed.
When he kissed me, I swear something inside of me woke. Of course I can’t admit that to him. That’s why I pulled away, slapped him. Pretended like what he was offering was not what I wanted.
Because what I want in this moment terrifies me. I’ve always built my image around being responsible—organizing the food drive at Christmas, leading the charge to clean up the National Parks. Focusing on important tasks.
But when Hunter kissed me, none of that seemed important, as foolish as that may sound. All that mattered was the way his large hands held me firmly in place. All that mattered was the way his tongue filled my mouth, so warm, as if he was devouring me.
All that mattered was us.
Everything else seemed to fade away. Is that what it’s like to be with a man? Does it mean forgetting everything else the moment you give in?
I want to help people, like my mother always did. And I knew how to do that back home, with my volunteering and fund raising … but now I’m realizing what it really means to serve my country.
Serving Elexia means being with Hunter.
And maybe, if I give my body to him—something I know I will enjoy—I could forget about all the things I’m losing in this deal. I might be able to focus on what I’m gaining.
It doesn’t matter now. Right now, I need to change into this lovely dress, a dress that’s considerably more stiff and proper than anything I ever wore on the island.
And I need to walk downstairs and take Hunter’s proffered arm, and let him give me a tour of his castle. Then I’ll sit and have dinner with strangers who are my new family.
I can do that. It would be selfish to put my carnal desires before the needs of my people. I’m not a woman who gives her mouth, and her body—and her heart—to a man she has just met.
That isn’t me.
Is it?
My dress fits perfectly. I clasp a string of pearls around my neck—pearls I brought from home, pearls that were my mother’s. I put on soft, supple leather boots that hit me at my knee, and look at my discarded dress—delicate fabric that dried outside on a line in the sun.
Instead of dwelling on what isn’t, I lift my chin, paste a smile on my face and walk downstairs. For Elexia.
Jemma intercepts me immediately. “Violet, you look lovely in that color. Hunter is waiting for you in the sitting room. Can I show you the way?”
“Yes, of course. Thank you.”
“Was Hunter respectable when he brought you to your room?”
I pull back, surprised by her tone. She’s the public relations liaison for the royal family—an employee, not a friend, right? I look at her closely, wondering if she has an ulterior motive.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Jemma says. “Hunter hits on everything with a pulse.”
“I know Hunter’s reputation, Jemma.” I swallow, having experienced it first-hand. My father’s instruction not to sleep with Hunter until a ring is on my finger echoes in my head.
“Hunter is more than meets the eye, Violet. I want you to give him a chance, a real chance.”
I smile tightly, wondering why she’s trying to convince me of Hunter’s character.
Hunter is at the end of the hall, and the corner of my mouth tugs up as I see him. Jemma may think she knows Hunter, but she doesn’t know me.
Besides, I’m the one marrying him, not her.
“You look drop-dead gorgeous, Sunshine,” he tells me as I greet him. He kisses my cheeks softly, and I inhale his freshly showered maleness. He smells like cinnamon and leather and pine trees—a scent I’ve never smelled before but know in an instant is him.
His lips brush my skin. I have no moves, but Hunter offers me his elbow to hold on to and I’m grateful that, just as Jemma suggested, he has plenty of experience. Right now, I’ll rely on that.
The tour begins in the portrait hall, of c
ourse. Hunter doesn’t know the names of any of the royal family, and he mostly rolls his eyes whenever I ask a question about his great great grandfather, or the way Parliament works in Cressia.
“I honestly haven’t a clue about those details, Violet.” He shrugs. “And I don’t see any reason to learn.”
“But you will be king.”
“Something like that.” He rolls his eyes again, and I wonder why he’s so flippant about such a prestigious role—a role I dreamed of having my entire life in Elexia, even though I knew I never would have it.
“Do you not want to be king?”
“Is my cock big?”
I swallow, my eyes bugging, because I certainly have no idea about cock sizes. But at the mere mention of his, I can’t help but avert my eyes to his groin and clench my own pussy as a wave of desire washes over me.
He smirks as if he won something by getting us off the topic of his royal lineage, and on the topic of his dick.
But the conversation is so far out of my comfort zone that I stop talking—and so does he. We meander through the massive castle, and I mentally make note of the maze of corridors, the impressive fireplaces grounding every room we pass through, and the way Hunter seems to tense as every staff member greets us. It’s as if being here is an annoyance.
We stop at a landing and look out a window that overlooks the capital city. Finally, I ask a question that piques his interest.
“What is that?” I point to a small deer-like creature making its way across the snowbank. “Over there.”
“Oh, that is a gaillia. They’re incredibly common in this part of Cressia, but less populated in the forests. They’re a bit like moose.”
I see a herd of them slowly gravitating toward town.
“The city offers them forage they can’t find in the woods. They love to lick the salt on the roads, too. However, this time of year is difficult for any gaillia. It’s so cold that finding sustenance is an undertaking.”
“It’s not always this cold?”
