Once Upon a Time …
… the princess arrived at a five-star hotel in Bucharest, anxiety a pulsing thrum in her blood. Two nights. It was only two nights with her fiancé, and then she would be on a plane to Sydney, with no intention to return for four whole years.
The hotel was modern and opulent; it made the palace look mouldering and out of date.
The bed was like a cloud, the furnishings tasteful, and the vodka in the fridge went down like silk.
She’d had enough to take the edge off her nerves.
He was in the room next to hers, and it was as if she could feel his intentions through the wall.
A knock sounded on the door, and her heart jumped into her throat. She forced out, “Come in.” Her voice was thick with fear.
The door clicked open, and he slid inside, handsome smile not reaching his calculating eyes. Her stomach churned.
“How are you feeling, dr?gu???” he asked solicitously, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. She compulsively scooted up towards the pillows, away from him. His eyes followed the movement, fingers twitching on the comforter.
“Excited … and nervous,” she admitted, clearing her throat to try and banish the tremor in her voice. “I … I must thank you again, Mr Dalca, for giving me this opportunity to learn abroad.”
His smile widened, baring too-white teeth. She was sure he’d had veneers. “Irina, you must call me C?lin. We are engaged, we should be more … familiar with one another.”
The words, the slimy tone of his voice, sent goosebumps skittering over her skin. “It will be a long engagement,” she mumbled. “My degree is four years full time.”
His finger trailed circles on the bedspread, inching ever closer to her bare foot. God, she wanted to scream, to leap from the bed. Anything.
“It is a long time to be apart. I wonder if we should consummate our betrothal. I do not wish to send my wife-to-be off into the world, unaware of the pleasures of a marriage bed.
The blood drained from the princess’s face, and his eyes sharpened. “You are untouched, are you not, Irina?”
She forced herself to nod. “I have not … with a man,” she stammered.
His smile turned wicked. “But you have on your own?” He turned, sliding up the bed and closer to her. “Have you experimented with what it feels like to be filled between your legs, Irina?”
She pressed her lips tightly together. “I don’t … I think this is an inappropriate conversation,” she managed, not wanting to divulge to him anything about the ways she pleasured herself.
“Nonsense. We are to be husband and wife. There will be no secrets. But perhaps it would be better if I just took you, now.”
“N-no … I don’t—”
His hand covered her mouth. “We may not be married yet, but I warn you, Irina, that I will not tolerate the word ‘no’ from my wife.”