“Say it, Dahlia,” Damon growls. “Say you did this for me.”
His hand moves faster, twirling over my bud as my wetness drips down my thighs. I squeeze my eyes shut and suck in a breath, and finally I can speak.
“Yes,” I gasp. “I wanted you. I wanted this. I haven’t stopped thinking about you since that night on the throne.”
Damon spins me around and kisses me hard. His hands fumble to push my dress over the curve of my hips, and it puddles at my feet. I kick it away, clawing at him to bring him closer. The Prince crushes his lips against mine with a moan, kicking my legs apart and slipping his hand once more between them.
This is better than the first time. It’s the culmination of months of waiting, wishing, hoping, anticipating. Prince Damon is stronger than I remembered. He’s bigger. Rougher. More commanding.
I love every second of it.
When the Prince picks me up and wraps my legs around his waist, my heart does a flip. He claims my lips again, carrying me to the wide wooden desk. There, he sits me down on the edge and runs his hands over my body once again.
His body is chiseled to perfection. I want to ask him where he got the cuts and bruises on his ribs and abdomen, but I don’t have the chance.
“I’ve thought of this every single day for the past seven months,” Prince Damon growls.
“I know,” I breathe.
I watch him unfasten his belt and let his pants fall to the ground. When he drops his briefs down, too, his cock throbs toward me.
“I think he’s saying hello,” I laugh.
“He missed you,” the Prince grins as he grasps his cock in his hand. His eyes darken as he moves closer to me. He brushes the tip of his cock against me, and I let out a long breath. I spread my legs wider as my breath hitches, the anticipation almost too much to handle.
“I don’t have a condom,” I say in a breathy voice as I sweep my eyes over his perfect body. “I’m not on the pill anymore.”
“I’ll pull out,” the Prince answers.
It’s not perfect, it’s not foolproof, and I don’t give a damn. His gorgeous cock is throbbing against me and I need it inside me. Now.
Prince Damon slides himself inside me inch by inch, stretching me wide as we both let out a low moan. It feels perfect. It feels like we were made for each other, like everyone who came before pales in comparison to him. He fits inside me so perfectly it makes me feel whole. Complete.
Filled.
We don’t say a word from then on. His hands grip my thighs, my sides, my waist. I claw at his chest and pull his head down to kiss me. He thrusts inside me, deep and powerful and perfect. I moan into his shoulder, biting his skin and gasping as the pleasure mounts inside me.
It’s more than pleasure. It’s ecstasy. It’s euphoria. It’s every cell in my body aligning itself and screaming in unison as the Prince drives himself deeper and deeper inside me.
With rough, possessive hands, he pulls my hips closer to the edge of the desk. I lean back on my elbows and let my head fall back. His thumb finds my clit and I know I’m done.
My orgasm winds me. It rips the air out of my lungs and steals the scream from my lips. It stiffens every limb in my body and makes my walls contract around the Prince’s shaft so tightly that I hear him groan in response.
Wildfire rips through my body from my center outward, spreading over every inch of me. The Prince thrusts himself inside me again and again as I try my best to ride my orgasm to the end.
I open my eyes and lift my head. My lips are open and I let out a moan as another wave of pleasure crashes into me. The Prince stares at me—at my chest, and my stomach, and down between my legs—and he grunts in response. His hands grip my legs and spread them wider, and I feel his cock start to throb.
He pulls his cock out of me and sprays his seed. White, sticky ropes cover my stomach, my breasts, all the way up to my chin. I watch him, body trembling…
…and I love it.
I love the messiness of it. I love him marking me like this—making me his. I like the feeling of his orgasm dripping off my body as my own pleasure subsides. His lips curl into a smile as he pumps the last of his cum onto my body, and then he drags his thumb through the mess, satisfied.
I’ll never be anyone else’s. I belong to Prince Damon, now and forever.
19
Damon
Dahlia smiles at me as she slips her dress back on. I hop on one foot as I pull my pants up, grinning back at her like a fool. I can’t keep the smile off my face.
I’ve been dreaming of that for months now. Dreaming of her.
As much as I thought today would be difficult, and I didn’t really want to celebrate when our whole family is in turmoil, it feels so fucking good to be with Dahlia that I don’t care.
We toss out the tissues that we used to clean ourselves up with, and I wrap my arms around Dahlia’s waist again. Laying a soft kiss on her lips, I sigh. It feels incredible to have her in my arms. I didn’t know if I’d ever feel this again.
We make our way back to the wedding reception, where cocktails are already being served. Charlie sees us walk in, and his eyebrows shoot up a fraction of an inch.
Dahlia squeezes my arm. “I’d better go see Elle,” she says, her cheeks flushing pink again. “I’ll talk to you in a bit.”
“Don’t leave without saying goodbye.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” Her eyes sparkle. She smiles at me, and then ducks away.
I make my way over to Charlie, who’s talking to his butler Neville. When I decided to go to medical school, I gave up my own personal butler. I figured if I’m giving up my royal life and living like a regular person, I needed to forego some of the royal privilege—including having staff. I don’t mind, though. When I needed to sneak out of the castle without being noticed, not having a gaggle of employees following me around everywhere makes it a lot easier.
Charlie is glancing at a piece of paper that Neville handed him.
“We haven’t been able to confirm that, sir,” Neville says. He turns to me and gives me a low bow. “Prince Damon.”
“Hey, Neville. What’s this about?”
Charlie lets out a heavy sigh. “We’re working through the evidence that we found on Mom’s murder. So far, we can definitely confirm that Father and his advisor were involved. Aunt Mal, though, is another story. She wasn’t in the country when Mom was murdered.”
“Malerie hated Mom.” I still remember the way my aunt looked at Dahlia, too, and I don’t trust her.
“We were kids. We don’t know that. And plus, even if she didn’t like her, it doesn’t mean she killed her.” Charlie shakes his head, sighing. “Listen, Nev, I can’t deal with this now. It’s my wedding day.”
“Sir, we’ve noticed that Lady Malerie seems to be making preparations to leave. If we don’t act tonight, we may not have another chance to question her.”
“I’ve already accused my father of murder, Nev. I don’t want to arrest her without solid proof. I’ve only been King for two weeks, and I don’t want to start my rule by making unlawful arrests.”
“We can detain her without arresting her.” Neville frowns. Even such a slight facial expression for him is a big deal. I can tell he wants Charlie to keep her in the country. “I don’t trust her, Your Majesty.”
Charlie lets out a heavy sigh. “She was there for us when Mom died, in her own way. She took care of Damon when he was bedridden after it happened. If I accuse her of being involved in this mess and it turns out she has nothing to do with it, she’ll never forgive me.”
“Sir…”
“I need to get back to my wedding.” Charlie interrupts. Neville bows to us both and disappears. Unease snakes into my heart as I watch him walk away.
I’m inclined to agree with Charlie’s butler. After the night in the throne room, my feelings about my aunt were tainted. Whereas before I thought of her as simply a slightly grumpy, slightly stuck-up old woman, after that evening, I’m not so sure. Wha
t do we really know about her, anyway?
If what Neville says is true, she’s planning on leaving the Kingdom on Charlie’s wedding night.
“Why isn’t she here?” I ask. “I mean, if you still trust her, and you’re not arresting her, why isn’t she at your wedding?”
Charlie’s face sours. “She refused the invitation. Look, I don’t want to talk about this right now. I just want to enjoy my wedding, enjoy my bride, eat good food, and be happy for once. Is that too much to ask?”
He stares at me with hard eyes until I nod.
“You’re right,” I say. “I’m sorry.”
Charlie takes a step toward Elle, who’s talking excitedly with Dahlia. My brother pauses, glancing over his shoulder at me. His lips tug up at the corners.
“What’s going on between you and Dahlia, anyway?”
“Nothing.” I clear my throat, averting my eyes.
“Where did you disappear just now?”
“I was showing her my study. She said she was looking for somewhere to work that was off-campus.”
“And you offered up your private study?”
“Yeah.” I shrug, but I know Charlie doesn’t believe me. That study is my sanctuary. I don’t even let the maids touch it. No one goes in there except for me…
…and now Dahlia, too.
Charlie walks straight to Elle, near the head table, and turns to our small gathering of guests. He raises his arms and clears his throat. As King, that’s enough to make the entire room fall silent.
He’s definitely got the aura of a king about him. He’s slid into his role with ease, and I’m happy for him. Charlie hooks his arm around his bride, and she gazes up at him with a soft smile on her lips.
They’ve found their way to each other, and even amidst the strife in our family, they look happy.
Maybe happiness is possible for Gabe and me, too. Maybe we can all get past this. My eyes move to Dahlia, and my heart jumps in my chest.
Charlie turns to the guests. “Thank you for coming tonight,” he starts. All of us shift and turn toward him, and he continues with a smile on his face. “It means the world to Elle and me that you’d be here to watch us join our lives and families together. We couldn’t think of a better way of celebrating our marriage than with the few people in this room.”
Applause fills the room, and Charlie raises his arms to accept it. Watching him makes me proud to be his brother—proud that he’s our King. A lump forms in my throat as emotion starts to choke me. Farcliff is entering a new era, and I can’t help but feel hopeful.
Charlie’s eyes swing to Dahlia. His smile widens. “Miss Raventhal, you’ve been supportive of Elle for many years. The Kingdom hasn’t been kind to you or your family, and I would like to officially extend my sincere apologies, and my hope for reconciliation.”
Silence settles over the room. Dahlia nods her head, her eyes widening. I can tell she’s uncomfortable.
Charlie takes a deep breath. “The official correspondence is already in the mail, but I wanted to tell you here, first: I’ve invited your parents back to Farcliff, and I hope it will be the new beginning that we all need to move beyond the past, and create a happier, more open future for all of the Kingdom.”
He finishes his speech strong, and the room erupts in applause. I clap along with the rest of them, but my eyes are on Dahlia. She looks more worried than happy, and I wish I was beside her to comfort her.
I know what she’s been through—how she grew up, and how deep her fear of Farcliff runs—and I know this can’t be easy. If Charlie wants to start a reconciliation with the Raventhals, he doesn’t know how much of an uphill battle he has ahead of him.
But King Charlie is oblivious. He laps up the applause and wraps his arms around a stunned Dahlia. Then, he turns to Elle and motions for us all to take our seats for dinner.
I’m sitting at the opposite end of the table to Dahlia, but I still steal a couple of glances her way. Her eyebrows are drawn together, and her hand trembles whenever she brings her glass of wine to her lips.
My heart squeezes, and the dread in my stomach grows stronger. Charlie may think the past is behind us, but I know it won’t be that easy to leave it in our wake.
20
Lady Malerie
Standing in a doorway, Malerie hears the new King’s speech, and her heart sinks. Inviting the Raventhals back into Farcliff is like a death sentence.
The Queen would still be alive if it weren’t for Tabitha Raventhal. Malerie doesn’t believe the accusations against the former King. He might be brutish and violent, but her brother is not a killer.
No—this was the Raventhals.
Now, the former King is under house arrest—well, castle arrest—and the Kingdom is upside down. To add insult to injury, the fucking Raventhals are back?
Malerie glances at Damon, who’s busy staring at Dahlia. Anger flares in her heart, and she turns away from the wedding, walking away from whatever remains of her family.
21
Dahlia
I’ve never been to a royal wedding before, and after my first dinner party at the castle, I was looking forward to the food tonight. As it stands, though, I don’t taste a single bite.
All I can think of is my mother and father, and how much they’ll freak out when they get their official invitation back to Farcliff. It won’t be as easy as King Charlie thinks to get my parents—especially my mother—to come back to the Kingdom. Not by a long shot.
But Elle and the new King are besotted with each other, and I won’t be one to make a scene. So, instead, I just sit beside Elle and push my food around my plate. I twirl my finger into the pink tips of my hair and try to look less miserable than I feel.
In my mind, I know these are all good things. I know the investigation into the death of the Queen will bring about change in Farcliff. I know that Charlie will be a good King.
It’s just that my family has been through so much. I’ve spent my whole life in fear of the royal family, and now I’m just supposed to forget about it all?
I’m supposed to run into Damon’s arms, and trust Charlie to do the right thing?
Power corrupts people, and the Crown weighs heavy. How do I know that these people will do right by my family? How do we really know that what the investigation uncovers won’t be swept up under the rug, and my family will be the scapegoats once again?
Elle touches my arm. “You okay? I thought you’d be happy about this.”
I force a smile. “Of course I’m happy, Elle. This will change everything.”
Someone else calls for Elle’s attention, and I turn my gaze back to my full plate of food. One of the waiters appears by my side and takes away my uneaten plate, dropping off another course that I already know I won’t touch.
I push my chair back. Elle glances at me, frowning.
“Bathroom,” I explain.
She nods.
I slip out of the reception room through the first door I find. It’s hard to get a full breath, and my head feels like it’s full of cotton balls. I yelp when I feel a hand on my back.
“Sorry!” Damon says, pulling his hand away. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”
“I didn’t hear you behind me.”
“I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.” His eyebrows draw together and he stares into my eyes.
I take a deep breath and lean against the hallway wall, putting a hand to my forehead. “Yeah, I’m okay. I just got a bit overwhelmed in there. It’s like I’m supposed to just pretend that everything is okay now that the King is gone. I mean… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that in a bad way, I just…”
“I know,” Damon says. “Things that have hurt you before don’t just go away because someone pretends to wave a magic wand. Believe me, I know how that feels. This whole wedding is a bit surreal.”
“Exactly! I grew up my entire life scared of this place…” I inhale sharply and shake my head. “It’s hard to get over that.”
“Well, maybe don�
��t try to get over it.” Damon leans on the wall beside me. “Maybe you should just accept it for now.”
“What do you mean?”
“Some things hurt. They cut you deep, and it’s not easy to let go of them.” His voice trails off and he stares into nothing, retreating into his own thoughts.
I think about the bruises on his body, and I wonder what exactly he’s thinking about. I’ve spent enough time with the Prince to know that there’s more to him than meets the eye, but who he is deep down to the core is still a mystery to me. He’s good, I think. I can see that in him, but his scars aren’t only physical.
The Prince inhales and glances at me. “You ready to go back in there?”
“Do I have to?”
He chuckles. “Unfortunately, yes. Oh, and I told Charlie that you were wanting a study space, so I offered up my library. You know, in case he asks.”
“Thanks for the heads up,” I grin. “What if I wanted to come back and study some more?”
“Dahlia, you can study with me anytime.” He growls, sweeping his hand into my hair and kissing me. A noise at the far end of the hall cuts our kiss short, and we head back into the main room.
I don’t even know why we’re hiding anymore—there’s no reason for us to pretend we’re not into each other. Damon and I seem to be on the same page, though, and I’m glad he wants to take things slow.
For the rest of the evening, Prince Damon doesn’t stray too far away from me. It’s as if there’s an invisible string holding us close to each other. I can feel his movements before I see them. I can sense his gaze whenever it lands on me.
I like the feeling. No—I love it. I love knowing that he’s near, that he’s looking at me. I love when his fingers slide over the small of my back.
When the dancing starts, Damon is right there in front of me with his hand extended. He pulls me close to his chest and holds me there in the middle of the dance floor. We stay stuck to each other for three, four, five songs, until I finally pull away.
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