In one swift motion, I lunged forward and gripped his wrist, squeezing until the knife fell to the ground. He swung at me as I bent to pick it up. I ducked then drove the blade into his thigh, giving it a hard twist for the fuck of it, and all without breaking a sweat.
He shoved Katie away from his body as the color drained from his face. “You’re going to regret that,” he spit out.
I narrowed my eyes at him. “If you touch anything that belongs to me ever again, I will slit your throat, rule it a suicide, and no one will care enough to question it. Understand?” I moved my gaze across the entire group then back to Keaton. “And you might want to get that looked at. It’s bleeding pretty bad.”
I placed a hand on Katie’s back and started leading her to the car. She stopped, turned back, then looked Jonathon in the eye. “You claim to honor and respect Matteo Bellizzi, but your actions say the opposite. Do you really believe the man who was able to raise an army was incapable of raising a child? Why would you doubt my choices when the man you’re willing to lose your life to follow is the one who instilled them in me?” Her lips spread into a proud grin. “Don’t ever forget, gentlemen. I am my father’s daughter.”
A sudden hush fell over the group then slowly, one by one, they each began to bow—with the exception of Keaton. These men hadn’t bowed to a king in over five years.
She cast her spell on them the same way she had bewitched me. It was settled. I was going to marry the fuck out of Katie Bellizzi.
Twenty-Eight
I slid into the storm blue gown Sutton bought for me. The silk kissed my skin as I pulled it over my nakedness, remembering his words before he left this morning. No panties, and don’t even think about challenging me. I will lift that dress up in the middle of the fucking church and spank your sweet ass.
For such a well-bred royal, my king had a filthy mouth.
Sutton said this was a small, intimate ceremony. I walked through the doors of St. Leo’s Cathedral, and there were at least one hundred people awaiting the crowning of their king. If this was intimate, I hated to see what the public coronation would be like. Huge white stone arches and massive columns bordered the traditional nave where everyone was seated. At the end of the church, above the altar, the sun glimmered through a colorful stained-glass window. It was all very Gothic and majestic… and fit for a king.
A footman took my arm as soon as I walked through the door and led me to a row of seats in front of the church. In the center of the main aisle sat a huge wooden chair on a large onyx stone base flanked by small lion statues. I gasped at the sight of it.
This is where my man will become a king.
He walked out of one of the passageways and my heart jumped to my throat. His eyes drank me in as though he finally found what he’d been searching for all his life. Or maybe it was just the fact that he was about to be crowned king of Torryn. His smoldering gaze ran the length of my body, and I swore he mouthed Mine as he walked past. I watched as the dark blue robe moved against his strong, broad back as he made his way to the chair.
The rest of the ceremony was ritualistic. The archbishop anointed Sutton with oil, blessed him, then placed the crown upon his head. I knew the crown was symbolic, not something to be worn every day like kings before him had done, but seeing it on his head stirred something inside me I never knew existed. I wanted this for him more than I ever wanted anything for myself. I knew what it took for him to get to this moment, all that he had to sacrifice. The lifetime of friendships, laughter, and love, of never getting too close because close meant vulnerable and royals couldn’t afford vulnerability. I wanted to give it all back to him, to be his best friend, to fall asleep making him laugh, and to love him. I loved him.
I tried so hard to fight it, but the truth was I never had a choice, and he knew it. Sutton didn’t crash through the wall I built around my heart. He burned it down. I loved him.
This was everything he fought against and all that he fought for. This was who Sutton Thorne was born to be.
Every time his eyes cut to me and his lips twitched to fight a smile, I wanted to stand up and shout to the entire world that this man was mine. He belonged to me.
I loved him.
I waited for him in his antechamber, leaning against the grand piano and remembering the first time he brought me here. It seemed like an eternity ago, even though it had only been weeks. We’d been through so much since then.
“You wore the dress.” Sutton’s voice was like cool summer rain washing over my hot skin.
He pulled his suit jacket off as he walked, tossing it on a chair, then started working his tie loose. Even without the crown and robe, he was every bit the king of the jungle stalking his prey.
“You thought I wouldn’t?”
He stopped in front of me. “You mean, do I think you’re unpredictable? Abso-fucking-lutely.” He dragged his thumb across my bottom lip. “But that’s one of the things I love about you.” I opened my mouth and let his thumb slip inside. He gripped my chin while I ran my tongue over his finger. “I’m going to hell.” He pulled his hand from my mouth and brought it to his, trailing the same thumb over his own lips.
“Why?”
“Because you wore that dress.”
“You bought the dress.”
“Do you have any idea how hard it was to sit there… in a fucking church… looking at you and not think about being inside of you?” He grabbed the nape of my neck and squeezed. Not hard, but enough to make my body tingle. “Knowing that if I slipped my hand in this dress right here…” He put his other hand on my chest, inching his fingertips inside the open “V” in the dress. “Slid the fabric to the side just an inch…” His hand slid all the way inside and he pushed the dress over, exposing my bare breast. “I would see where I marked you last night.”
He took a step back and looked at me, at the bite marks he left on my body. His breath was ragged as he ran his thumb across my nipple. My heart pounded, and the air between us throbbed. My eyes fell to the tapered outline of his hard cock through his suit pants. I swallowed then licked my lips, my mouth suddenly dry and hungry.
He stroked himself through the fabric, pinning me to the piano with his stare. “Take it off.”
I brought my eyes up to his face. “Don’t you have a party to go to or something? To celebrate?”
“Normally, yes. This time, no.” He continued palming his erection, his breath ragged, his voice calm. “The dress. Take it off. Or would you prefer I do it for you?”
I slid the fabric off my shoulders then down over my hips, and we both watched it fall to the floor in a puddle around my feet.
No panties.
The way the veins pulsed in his neck against his golden skin told me he appreciated my obedience.
“So fucking beautiful.” He unwrapped the tie from around his collar and dropped it on the floor beside my dress. He untucked the blue dress shirt that matched my dress from his pants then started unfastening the buttons. With every button he undid, I came more undone.
Then he slid the shirt off his shoulders and let it fall to the floor, and my chest tightened. My stomach dropped to a freefall, and I knew in my heart that no one would ever ignite the fire in my soul the way Sutton did. He consumed me. I could spend forever burning in his flame. I used to hide from this man. I hated him and condemned him for a crime he didn’t commit. Now, I couldn’t breathe without him.
I took in a deep breath and stared at the letters written over his heart.
PROPERTY OF KATIE BELLIZZI
My fingertips traced each letter, one by one, as though the ink would somehow seep into my bloodstream, mark my soul, and we would become one.
I pressed my palm to his cheek and watched as the mask he always wore shattered beneath my fingertips. His was expression was raw, stripped bare. “I’m yours,” he said, his voice a ragged whisper.
During the coronation, when I wanted to claim him, when I had the overwhelming urge to stand up and shout that he belonged to
me, he’d already done it.
“I don’t date. I don’t fuck random women. I don’t give people chances. I don’t let people in. But you… you crawled inside me from the moment I saw you. This thing… this inexplicable, inescapable thread between us is the thing that holds me together. It’s easy to love someone when things are perfect, to love someone who has their life straight and knows all the right things to say. But to love them when everything around you is a whirlwind of chaos and none of the words ever come out right and every morning you wake up fighting to breathe because you feel like you’re drowning… that is real. That is us.” He tangled his hands in my hair and brushed his lips against mine. “I’ve had everything handed to me for my whole entire life, and still it always felt like something was missing. It was you. It’s always been you. Game over, little sheep. Marry me. Be my queen. I can’t do this without you.”
His eyes drifted closed as he inhaled a deep breath and lowered his forehead to mine. “You can’t leave me, little sheep.”
What I heard was, You can’t leave me, too.
His mother was a witch. His father was dead. He had no real friends and had never dated. Sutton Thorne was a storm. He was a raging force, demanding and frightening and capable of leaving you in ruins. But he never pushed me away. He put me in my place and still treated me like a queen. Through all of his mess and chaos, I still stood.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“Say yes.” His palms slid down my back to my butt, sending a burning ache between my legs. “Just fucking say yes,” he half-growled, half-pleaded.
“Yes,” I whispered against his lips.
I was no longer afraid of the storm.
Epilogue
Five months later…
Today was my twenty-fifth birthday. Sutton had this big plan for a bonfire on the beach. Chelsea and I came up with a small list of our most trustworthy friends to invite to the bonfire because Sutton was still Sutton, and he trusted no one. He had Antonio vet every one of them before they ever got an invitation. He was so focused on giving me my life back. He didn’t realize he had already done that when he gave me himself.
I made Mrs. Fletcher give me the names of all the kitchen staff Sutton had let go because of my impulsive need to challenge him. Then I found each one of them another job. It was amazing how much a future queen could get accomplished with a simple phone call.
Chelsea had visited the castle every week since Sutton’s coronation to help Mama plan the wedding. If you asked me, she was more interested in the new guard at the front gate than wedding planning, but it was cute that she pretended to care about things like Stargazer lilies and fondant.
Sutton’s mother stayed quiet for the most part as she stepped down from her role as queen and into the role of Queen Mother. He blamed her grief. I blamed her awful personality. I already had to spend more time than I wanted to with her learning how to be a proper queen.
Things were starting to get back to normal. There hadn’t been a threat to the throne since the day of King Phillipe’s funeral. Sutton spent his days busy with royal things and his nights reminding me who I belonged to. The day after I accepted his proposal, he had the staff move my things from my villa to his chambers. My body. My bed. If I wake up wanting to bury my face between your legs or my cock in your tight little pussy, I want you here. And he meant it. Sometimes at night, I woke up to find him with his hands behind his head, staring up at the stars painted on his ceiling. Those were the moments he needed me most—at two in the morning when the silence was too much. With Sutton, sex was always more than an end to a physical need. It was reverence and grace and forgiveness and absolution all wrapped up in one earth-shattering act of worship. It was holy. His soul made love to mine before his hands ever touched my body.
Antonio and two of the other guards finished lighting the bonfire then kept watch at the beginning of a path where the sand met the grass leading back to the castle. I stood at the edge of the beach, letting the cool water lap at my bare feet and the breeze sweep across my skin. The sun just disappeared beyond the horizon. The growing fire blazed in the background. I heard Chelsea’s laughter behind me while one of our other friends sang horribly out of key with the song on the Bluetooth speaker.
Sutton’s strong arms wrapped around my body from behind, pulling me to his chest. His head dipped down so he could kiss my neck. “Happy Birthday, beautiful.” The silk of his voice slid over my skin the way it always had.
My fingers clutched the folded paper I held in the pocket of my linen shorts. I leaned my head against his shoulder as his teeth nipped my neck. A soft moan escaped my lips. His hard length pressed into my behind. “I remember something about a promise…”
He smiled against my neck then moved his hands to cup me between my thighs. “I promise I’m going to fuck you, little sheep. Right here. In this sand. The minute we’re alone, this pussy is mine.”
Little sheep.
Sutton was my lion, and I was going to spend the rest of my nights keeping him warm.
I crinkled the paper in my hand. “We should probably go by the fire and socialize, because if you keep touching me like that, I’m going to come right here in front of all these people.”
“Jesus Christ, Katie,” he growled, and I shrugged.
I was learning that my king liked it when I talked that way, when I let go of the reins Mama had placed so tightly into my hands—but only for him, only like this.
I pulled away and turned to face him. “And my body has always been yours.” He devoured me with one look but reluctantly took my hand and led me to the bonfire.
Chelsea walked over and extended her hand to me at the first few beats of one of our favorite songs. It was slow and sexy, and we used to always drive boys wild when we danced together every time it came on. I shook my head and backed up against Sutton. There was only one boy I cared about, and he was already as wild as they came.
“Remember that time we danced to this on the bar at that club in Valetta?” she asked, and her picture-perfect smile lit up her face. “I thought that one guy was going to explode in his pants.” She turned her attention to Sutton. “He was literally dry-humping the air while watching Katie. Your girl is fucking hot.”
“Chelsea…”
She laughed then held her hands up in surrender. “Just calling ’em like I see ’em, babe.” Then she threw a wink over her shoulder and walked to the back of the beach, stopping right in front of the guard that took Antonio’s place at the gate. With every sway of her hips, his head turned more in her direction. She caught him staring and smiled then threw her hair over her shoulder and teased him some more.
Sutton leaned forward. His day-old stubble brushed my cheek. “You’re not going anywhere with her unless I’m with you.”
I laughed, then ground my ass into his crotch, rolling my hips to the beat of the music. He hissed through his teeth. His hard length pressed against my body. “Keep doing that, and I promise you I won’t explode in my pants. I’ll undo my zipper and come all over your fucking back, and no one will ever know it happened.” He fisted one hand in my hair and pulled, tipping my head back to meet his dark gaze. “Is that what you want?” I rolled my hips again and licked my lips in response. A wicked grin spread across his face. “I’m going to fuck you so hard your soul screams.”
God, I loved when he talked to me like that. “Promise?”
“Every day for the rest of our lives, and then some.”
When I was with Sutton, it felt like an eternity would never be enough. Maybe that was the true definition of a soul mate—two souls connected beyond time or reason. Perhaps we loved each other in another life because this pull, this force, this fire was so much stronger than one lifetime could allow, so maybe fate decided to give us two.
The paper in my pocket suddenly felt as though it weighed a thousand pounds. I stopped dancing and slid my hand inside my pocket, gripping the crinkled paper as sweat covered my palm. Breathe, Katie. My heart pounded in my
chest, and an icy chill rushed through my bloodstream in spite of the warm fire in front of us.
Breathe.
I inhaled a deep, calming breath then pulled the paper from my pocket, my eyes locked on it and my body froze.
Breathe.
The fire blazed. The music faded into the background. The circle of friends became a blur.
Sutton hooked an arm around my waist and pulled me back against him. “What’s that?”
I swallowed, forcing the bile from my throat, then gave him a weak smile. “Nothing. Just some trash I found in my pocket.”
He leaned down and kissed the top of my head. You can’t leave me.
Without another moment of hesitation, I threw the paper into the fire. Then I turned around in his arms and brought my fingers to his hair. “Are you going to kiss me now, or what?”
Earlier that day…
Mama met me in the library instead of her old office because, without a queen, there was no need for a Queen’s Secretary. She told Sutton she could move to Valetta, find a job and an affordable place to stay, and in true Sutton fashion he put her in her place—which happened to be right here in Thornebridge Castle. The mother of my queen isn’t going to file papers for some asshole with an authority complex and sleep in a one-bedroom cottage on the outskirts of town. God, I loved this man.
She sat next to me on the leather sofa in the middle of the room. “I saw that they’re remodeling my old office. Does that mean you’ve decided on a secretary?”
I wouldn’t exactly have called it remodeling. They changed out the heavy, jewel-toned window treatments for long white sheers, replaced the Persian rug with a white shag and painted the gold walls a soft gray.
“I have.”
The decision was nowhere near easy. The Queen’s Secretary had always been someone the queen could trust without hesitation. She would know everything about me from the company I kept to the meals I ate to how often I took my birth control shot. The obvious choice was Chelsea, but—God love her—she wasn’t focused enough for that kind of responsibility.
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