Chapter 15 Rangi #2
“Is that wise?” I ask, though we both know my decision is already made. “After today’s public appearance...”
His fingers brush mine, barely a touch, but enough to make my heart stutter.
“I don’t care.” He steps closer still, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I want to wake up with you beside me. Just once without interruptions or emergency meetings or royal crises.”
How could I deny such a simple request? Especially when it aligns so perfectly with my own desires.
“Lead the way,” I tell him.
We maintain proper distance as we navigate the more public corridors, but once we reach the royal residence wing, Leo’s hand finds mine, our fingers interlacing with familiar ease.
His quarters, when we reach them, are lit only by moonlight streaming through tall windows, turning the elegant space ethereal.
The door has barely closed behind us when Leo turns to me, all pretence of royal decorum abandoned. His kiss is hungry, urgent, days of careful public restraint transforming into fierce desire. I respond in kind, backing him against the nearest wall, my hands finding his waist to pull him closer.
“I’ve missed this,” he breathes against my mouth. “Missed you.”
I trail kisses along his jaw, feeling the slight roughness of evening stubble against my lips. “It’s not been that long,” I remind him, though my own body aches with the same sense of deprivation.
“Three minutes is too long.” His hands slide under my jacket, pushing it from my shoulders.
“You wore this just to rile me up,” I murmur, voice low against his jaw. “You know how good you look when you’re not allowed to be touched.”
His breath hitches. “Worked, didn’t it?”
Smug bastard.
I grab the back of his neck and pull him into a kiss. Rough. Claiming. My teeth graze his lower lip, and he opens for me immediately—just like I knew he would.
He melts fast. That’s the thing with Leo—he holds himself together like steel in public, but in private? If I take the lead, he follows. If I ground him, he lets go.
“Clothes,” I growl against his mouth. “Off. All of them. Now.”
He strips for me without question. Quick. Neat. Efficient, like it’s just another royal directive to obey.
But his hands shake. He’s already achingly hard.
Good.
I press him toward the bed until the backs of his knees hit the edge. Then I stop him with one hand flat on his chest.
“Lie down. Arms above your head.”
He obeys. Just like that.
No hesitation.
He lays back, stretches his arms up over the pillows, baring himself for me—my prince, completely exposed.
I take a beat to look.
He’s flushed. Breathing shallow. His cock already heavy and twitching against his stomach. Waiting for my hands.
But he doesn’t get them yet.
“You trust me?” I ask, unbuttoning my shirt slowly, eyes locked on his.
“Always.”
I kneel between his thighs and start prepping him—slick fingers working him open one at a time, slow and controlled. My other hand stays on his hip, holding him still when he tries to rock.
He groans. Whines. He wants more, but he won’t beg yet.
“Tell me what you need.”
“You.” His voice cracks. “Please, Rangi, I need you to fuck me.”
I slick my cock, line up, and push in with one long, deliberate thrust. He gasps—head tilting back, hands fisting the sheets—but he doesn’t pull away.
I give him a second to adjust, watching the way his throat works as he swallows down the pressure.
“You’re so fucking good for me,” I murmur, and then I start to move.
Slow at first. Deep. Powerful. I fuck him like I’ve got nothing to prove and everything to claim.
And he lets me. Lets me hold him open. Lets me control the rhythm. Lets me take.
He pants and moans, arms no longer above his head—he clutches at my back now, pulling me deeper, grounding himself on me.
“Rangi,” he gasps. “Gods, I—”
“You’re mine,” I tell him, bending low to bite the skin below his ear. “Say it.”
“I’m yours,” he chokes. “Fuck—please.”
I change the angle, fuck him harder. His legs tighten, heels digging into my back.
His cock pulses between us, untouched.
“You’re gonna come without even being touched,” I promise him. “You’re gonna fall apart for me like the good prince you are.”
He curses then he begs. And when I fuck him just right, he shatters.
His whole body locks. His back arches. He spills hard, clenching around me so tight I see stars.
I keep going, just a few more thrusts, chasing the heat rolling up my spine—and then I’m groaning against his throat, hips jerking as I come deep inside him.
I don’t pull out.
I stay wrapped around him, breathing hard, chest pressed to his.
He’s trembling. His fingers flex against my back like he’s still trying to hold on to something.
“You okay?” I whisper, brushing my thumb across his cheek.
He laughs—wrecked and dazed. “Better than okay.”
I kiss him soft, then roll us onto our sides, keeping him close, still inside him, still his. For the first time in days, I feel him relax against me.
“I could get used to this,” he murmurs, tracing patterns on my chest. “Falling asleep with you. Waking up together.”
“I’d like that,” I admit, pressing a kiss to his temple.
I wake to find Leo watching me, his head propped on one hand, a soft smile playing across his lips.
“Morning,” I murmur, voice rough with sleep.
“Morning.” He leans down to press a gentle kiss to my mouth. “Sleep well?”
“Better than I have in weeks.” I stretch, enjoying the pleasant ache in my muscles. “What time is it?”
“Early still. The sun’s barely up.”
I glance toward the windows where dawn light is just beginning to filter through the curtains. “No royal emergencies? No press crises? No diplomatic incidents requiring immediate attention?”
He laughs, the sound carefree in a way I rarely hear from him. “Not yet, though the day is young.”
A comfortable silence falls between us, the kind that speaks of deepening intimacy rather than awkwardness. Leo’s fingers trace idle patterns on my chest, following the lines of my tribal markings. His touch is light, thoughtful, reverent.
And then, quietly—like it’s the most natural thing in the world—he says, “I love you.”
The words land with no fanfare, but they knock the breath from my lungs all the same. I look down at him, find his eyes already on mine—steady, sure, shining.
“I love you,” he says again, voice softer this time. “And I want a future with you. All of it. Not just stolen mornings and shared beds, but a life. I want that—with you.”
Emotion swells in my chest, hot and bright.
“I do too,” I admit, cupping his cheek. “You and me. All of it. Forever.”
He smiles. “Then let’s build our future.”
What follows is a leisurely exploration that leaves us both breathless and laughing, wrapped in tangled sheets as morning light fills the room with golden warmth. There’s no rush, no pressure—just a slow, tender claiming of something that already belonged to us.
Eventually, reality intrudes in the form of a discreet knock at the outer door.
“Your Highness?” Victoria’s voice calls. “The tribal council representatives have arrived for the nine o’clock meeting.”
Leo groans, burying his face against my shoulder. “What time is it now?”
I glance at the clock on the bedside table. “Eight-fifteen.”
“One moment, Victoria,” he calls, then drops his voice to a whisper. “We should probably get up.”
“Probably,” I agree, making no move to leave the warm comfort of the bed. “Though I can think of several more enjoyable ways to spend the morning.”
He laughs, pressing a quick kiss to my lips before pulling away with obvious reluctance. “Duty calls. Besides, aren’t you supposed to be at that meeting too?”
“Technically.” I stretch, watching his eyes follow the movement appreciatively. “Though I suspect we’ll cause quite a stir arriving together.”
Leo pauses in the act of reaching for his robe, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. “Would that be so terrible?”
The question catches me off guard. “No,” I say carefully. “But I thought we were being...discreet.”
He sits on the edge of the bed, his expression suddenly serious. “We have been. And I understand why. But after yesterday, with the public appearance and the family dinner...” He trails off, searching for words.
“You’re reconsidering our approach,” I suggest, sitting up to face him properly.
“Not entirely. I still think a careful, gradual introduction makes sense. But I’m tired of pretending there’s nothing between us when we’re in less public settings.” He reaches for my hand. “I’m not suggesting a formal announcement, but perhaps we could be less... rigidly formal.”
I consider his words, the implications of what he’s suggesting. “Are you sure? Once we take that step, there’s no going back.”
“I know.” His expression is resolute.
The certainty in his voice makes something warm unfurl in my chest—pride, perhaps, or simple happiness at seeing him embrace what’s growing between us despite the complications.
“Forward it is, then,” I agree, squeezing his hand. “Though perhaps we should start with arriving at meetings on time rather than causing a scandal by showing up together and obviously dishevelled.”
He laughs, the tension breaking. “Reasonable. Let’s shower.”
We dress quickly, exchanging casual touches and occasional kisses that make the process longer than strictly necessary. Before we leave, Leo pulls me in for one final kiss, lingering and sweet.
“Tonight?” he asks against my lips.
“Tonight,” I confirm. “My quarters or yours?”
“Mine are more private, but yours have fewer prying sisters.”
I laugh, remembering Kit’s unannounced entrance. “Mine it is. After dinner.”
With a final touch, we slip out into the corridor, nodding casually to the guards who maintain admirably neutral expressions despite surely knowing exactly where I’ve spent the night.
As we make our way to the meeting, I reflect on how much has changed in such a short time.
From the tense negotiation sessions to the stolen moments in gardens, from carefully maintained distance to the warm intimacy we’ve just shared—each step has brought us closer to something I never dared hope for.
There are still challenges ahead, still details to navigate and obstacles to overcome.
But for the first time, I allow myself to fully believe in the possibility of us—not just as a private affair conducted in shadows, but as something acknowledged and accepted, part of the changing face of Astipia’s royal tradition.
Forward, indeed.