Chapter 6
Royal carries me to the dark bedroom and sets me down on the bed. He looks me over, like he’s checking me for damage, and his lips press together in a thin, unimpressed line. My stomach dips and swoops, hating that I’ve let him down.
“This looks lovely on you,” he comments, fingering the sleeve of my sweater. “Now that you know it is yours, do you like your surprise?” His eyes track over to the closet doors.
“You can’t buy me with fancy clothes,” I mumble, even though part of me wants to swoon in his arms.
I like to buy pretty things, he told me. I like to own them.
Royal tugs off my sweater and boots while I wrestle with my feelings. I could let myself go last night, telling myself it was one night. But now?
“Royal, please.” I catch his shoulders as he’s unbuttoning my jeans. “This is crazy. We just met. You can’t buy me all those things.” I can’t even discuss the ‘you will be my bride’ part. It’s too nuts.
“No?” He’s back to being amused. He finishes pulling off my wet jeans and rubs his warm hands up my freezing legs, which, frankly, is a relief. Once again, I’m cocooned in Royal’s dark room and delicious scent, ready to succumb to his demands.
But I can’t let go like I did last night. It will mean too much to me. These feelings growing in my chest—they overwhelm me. They make me want to run.
He seems to sense the shift in my emotions, and shakes his head. “You will not,” he says, pressing me back to the bed. “I will not allow it.”
“What?”
“You think I do not know you, inside and out?” He strokes back my tangle of curls, spreading my hair across the pillow.
“You will not run again. I will never do anything less than treasure you, principessa. But first…” his voice is deep and smoky, whispering over my skin, “there is punishment for you, for trying to run.” He kisses the tender lobe of my ear, licking over it in a way that has me grabbing for the front of his shirt to pull him close.
He rears out of reach. “Lie back.”
He waits until I obey, and turns to the bedside table to rummage in a drawer. At the sight of the ties in his hands, my mouth goes dry. My body remembers how he tied me down last night, and is making ready for him. Adrenaline fizzes in my bloodstream. My heartbeat is wild in my chest.
“Give me your wrists.” He’s got four silk strips of fabric. Two for my wrists, and two for my ankles. He ties me down the way he wishes, and pulls the bra I’m wearing down so the whole thing props up my breasts. I’m still in the plain panties. If he rips these ones off, at least he paid for them.
He paid for a whole closet full of them. I can’t think about that.
Royal rises over me, studying me like a king observing his chattel. He skims a finger over my soft belly and cups his hand between my legs. His palm presses into my pussy. “This belongs to me.”
Oh. My. God.
“Say it.” His eyes are demon dark. He drags his hand over my sex, rubbing lightly. “Tell me, Leah, who this belongs to.”
“You?” My voice is a barely a huff.
“Me.” A wicked grin tilts his lips. He keeps rubbing me.
“Royal—”
“Shhh, little one. No more talking. Just feel.”
My thighs are shaking. His touch is light, too light for me to come. I squirm, wanting more stimulation.
“Be still,” he orders, releasing me. I whimper, wanting his touch back.
He leaves me, going to stand in the shadows by the bed. He’s fiddling with something on his sleeves—his cufflinks. They clink as he sets them down on the bedside table.
He rolls up his sleeves, his gaze never leaving mine. By the time he’s bared his forearms, my chest is heaving like I’ve run up a flight of stairs.
“Such a good girl,” he murmurs. “So obedient.”
I don’t know why those words thrill me.
“You look so lovely, bound and waiting. I could eat you up.”
Oh please, yes.
“But first, you need to be punished for trying to run.” He heads to the foot of the bed and settles between my splayed legs.
He kisses my shaking knees, clamping his hands on each one to hold me down.
I couldn’t escape, even if I wanted to. Royal’s dark hair tickles the inside of my thighs as he licks up one and then the other, teasing the sensitive flesh.
His tongue finds each of my stretch marks and traces them.
A lick, a kiss, nothing but worship. My pussy throbs, ready for his mouth.
Hot breath hits the gusset of my panties.
“You’re not to come, not until I tell you,” he says, and before I can even ask a question, or protest, his tongue is on me, licking over the panties.
The thin fabric lets me feel everything, while dampening the sensation enough to keep me from coming.
I arch my back, pushing myself into his mouth.
I grab the ties securing me to the bed, hanging on as waves of ecstasy swamp me, stealing my breath.
Royal runs his hands up my thighs, holding me open to him, holding me still for the lashing of his tongue.
He’s pressing me forward, pushing me toward the edge.
Then he raises his head.
“No!” I was so close. I shut my eyes tight and bury the whine that wants to crawl up the back of my throat. I know he’ll show me no mercy, even if I complain.
This is my punishment.
I have to take it.
“Are you going to run away again?” His voice is a soft rumble that rolls right through me. I bite my lip.
“You’re not letting me come.” I can’t help how petulant I sound, and he chuckles.
“No. You don't come until I say so. You don’t run unless I tell you to. You belong here, to me. It’s fate.” He hooks the gusset to the side and lowers his mouth to my core again. My whole body lights up. No one manipulates my body this well. Not me. Not my ex. Only Royal.
My pleasure is spiraling out of control. My inner muscles clench on air, on nothing. I’m so close.
Right before I go over, he lifts his head, looking up at me from between my trembling thighs.
“Do not,” he warns me, and I swallow hard, trying to stop myself from tipping over the edge.
“Please,” I beg softly, trying to put all my apology in my voice for running, for even thinking that I could escape him.
He strokes the insides of my thighs, craning his neck to kiss the stretch marks on my soft belly. “You have much to learn, cara mia. And I am going to teach you.” Now he’s risen up to nuzzle at my breasts. “You are going to be my good girl. My wife. All this,” he palms my pussy, “belongs to me.”
My breath hitches. My eyes flutter.
“Look at me, Leah.”
I open my eyes wide, meeting his dark gaze.
“I will never allow you to doubt how beautiful you are. I will spend the rest of my life, every last waking hour, making sure you know that you are a gift to the world.”
His palm rocks against my folds, gently rubbing. Destroying all thought.
“You are perfect. And you are mine.”
I strain my bonds. I need more.
But he takes his hand away. He stands, his fingers going to the buttons of his shirt.
I whimper as the white linen and sleek undershirt fall to the ground.
His bare chest is muscled and magnificent.
He thumbs open his trousers. His pants and boxer briefs hit the floor.
I get a few precious seconds to ogle his perfect body before he’s climbing onto the bed, sliding between my legs to drape his heavy form over me.
He kisses me, intense and insistent, tongue demanding access, the faint, earthy taste of myself on his lips.
The flavor has my cheeks heated and blushing.
His cock is in his hand. He guides it to my sopping center, spreading me open with the head.
He drives inside me, and I cry out. His expression is serene as he fucks me hard into the sheets, like he knew this is where’d we be, right now, down to the minute and second.
Like he knew I’d try to run.
And that he’d catch me.
“You think you can run from me? You think I’d just let you go? That's not the type of man I am.” He slams his hips into mine, filling me to the brim. “I'm the man who takes what he wants.” He grinds against me. “And I want to own you.”
Oh. My. God.
“You’re perfect for me. I found perfection, cara. I’m not giving it up.” His breath doesn’t even hitch as he speeds up his thrusts. “You're mine, you understand?”
It’s too much. I need him, need to come.
“Yes yes yes…” Each word is a pleading whisper and he kisses me, then drags his lips down to my ear, breathing there softly as he moves deep inside me for what feels like forever. I’m a wound harp string, ready to snap.
“You may come—” he says, and something inside me snaps. My body shudders hard through an orgasm. My knees grip his hips. He groans a half-second after me, and his hips beat a tattoo against mine as he comes hard inside of me.
My chest is heaving hard enough for the both of us, and I grip the ties binding me to the bed. Why do I feel so safe underneath him? Why does it feel so right?
“Good girl,” he murmurs. “You did so well. You’re perfect for me.” He kisses my brow. My eyes fall closed. I’m tired, and the orgasm worked as a soporific, drugging me. He rises and unties me, returning to rearrange me in the bed.
The sheets and covers are surrounding me in his warmth and the soft scent of his cologne.
This is where I belong, right here. I drift.
His hands trace my curves, but I’m too tired to feel shy.
His thumb strokes my belly. “You can’t leave me, Leah.
You might be pregnant with my child.” His words are calm, but I hear an edge of hesitation in his voice, of anticipation.
That rouses me. My brows knot, my sex-wrung brain trying to think, but Royal’s right. He didn’t use protection.
You will be faithful to me, and bear my children.
“I’ve been careful with you, but no longer,” he says. “I know you're clean.”
How does he know that? I feel so fuzzy, I don’t even speak the words.
“And I got tested,” Royal says. “I'm clean too.”
“I don't understand,” I mumble.