Dirty Lovely Broken

by Emmy Chandler

  Did he?

  “He got rough at the end, because I angered him.” Maari whispered the admission.

  “And how, exactly did you do that?”

  “I, um… I slapped him. Across the face.”

  Malac’s finger went still inside her, and her flush deepened as she felt herself clench around it. “You slapped him?”

  “He said terrible things to me.”

  “Yes, he does that. And was it worth it?” His finger began to move again, slowly spreading the cream. “That slap?”

  “No!” she moaned miserably. “I wanted you to be there.” Maari held back a humiliating sob as she made an equally embarrassing admission. “I thought… I’d hoped you might help me with him. Like you helped with Jude.”

  Malac’s amused huff couldn’t quite hide the note of bitterness in his voice. “You wanted me to come get you off, while another of my brothers got to take you, right in front of me?”

  “No, I—” She sniffled, wishing she weren’t bent over the side of the tub, so she could see him. So she could reclaim a little dignity. “I wanted you to distract me from…what he was doing. I didn’t want to think about that. I wanted to think about… About you.”

  His finger stilled again, and he released the smallest of sighs.

  “I’m sorry, princess. I had business to attend to. But I’m here now.” He slowly withdrew his finger, and his hand disappeared from her hip so he could close the jar. “All done.” Malac rounded the tub holding a thick towel, and he took her hand, helping her stand. And for the first time, she found that she wasn’t embarrassed to be naked in front of him. “Let’s get you dried off.”

  He shook out the towel, then he began to blot her with it, catching her gaze periodically as he worked his way down her body. She spread her legs for him, and he gently patted her backside with the towel, then blotted the thatch of hair between her legs.

  When she was dry—except for the constant accumulation of moisture between her thighs—he laid the towel over the edge of the counter and helped her out of the tub.

  “Please… May I have some clothes?” she asked as he led her into the bedroom. Where she discovered that the bed had been remade during her bath. And based on the aroma wafting from beneath the covered tray on the table, fresh food had been sent up.

  “That’s up to Jude,” Malac told her as he led her toward a seat at the table. “I’m sure he’ll give you something to wear, once he’s sure you’re not going to misbehave again. But for now, if you’re cold, I can light the fire.”

  “Yes, please.” Maari sank into her chair. “Thank you.”

  “Fire, on,” Malac commanded in a clear voice as he sat across from her. Then he lifted the dome from the tray to reveal a fillet of cod on a bed of wilted spinach, topped with an elegant, vibrant arrangement of diced beetroot salad. “You’ll feel better if you eat something.”

  Maari already felt better, but she lifted her fork because Malac obviously wanted her to. He rewarded her with an approving smile.

  “Aren’t you eating?” she asked, staring at the empty half of the table in front of him.

  “Jude and I had a working dinner earlier.”

  “Oh. Well, I don’t have to—”

  “Please eat. And take your time. I’m in no hurry,” he assured her.

  Maari blinked at him, trying to understand how a man as kind as Malac could possibly be related to Jude and Orlann. How he could possibly be responsible for the strategies that had slaughtered thousands of her stead’s soldiers. “Aren’t you a little young for a Defense Commander?”

  “Yes. But I’ve only been the commander for the past two years, and I gained a lot of on-the-job experience, during the three years before that.”

  “Still. That’s a huge responsibility.”

  He nodded. “One I share with an entire staff of experienced advisors.”

  “You grew up here in the palace?” she asked as she speared a cube of beetroot. “With your brothers?”

  He nodded. “And our sisters.”

  “How…?” Maari hesitated, unsure how to politely ask what she wanted to know. “How were you treated?”

  “You mean, because I’m a bastard?” He said the word as if it didn’t bother him.

  She nodded as she swallowed her first bite. “As my children will be. Evidently.”

  Malac shrugged. “On the surface, there wasn’t much difference between my raising and my siblings’. We had the same tutors. The same gifts and opportunities. The only real difference was that I lived in a suite with my mother, in a separate wing from the royal living quarters. And, obviously, I don’t have the Camden name. Nor did I make official appearances.”

  “And your mother?” Maari asked as she took a bite of cod. “How was she treated?”

  “She had everything she could possibly have wanted. A beautiful suite. Anything she wanted to eat or to wear. The latest tech. But she did have a tougher time of things, socially, than I did. However, her circumstances are different than yours, obviously. She lacked a title, while you are a royal resident.”

  “I’m a prisoner,” Maari corrected him.

  “More like a permanent guest,” Malac insisted. “Whereas my mother felt like an intruder. But she had my father’s true affection. Though he only allowed her the one child, out of respect for his wife. And only once the queen had delivered two boys.”

  “So, my children won’t be…abused? Neglected?”

  “Of course not.” Malac leaned across the table and took her free hand. “Your children may not know precisely who their fathers are. But because of that they’ll be loved and doted on by all three of us. Just in case.” He gave her an almost mischievous wink, and Maari pressed her thighs together to fend off the swelling ache between her legs.

  His intimate smile said he knew exactly what she was feeling.

  “Your life here doesn’t have to be a prison sentence. If you accept your place, this can just be…” He shrugged, spreading his arms to take in her surroundings. “Life.”

  She swallowed another bite of cod. “Life cannot be lived in one room, Malac.”

  “You won’t be restricted to one room, once you’ve conceived. I suspect, if you’re good, I can talk Jude into giving you and your children a suite near my mother’s.”

  Maari glanced at him in surprise. “She’s still here? Even though your father—”

  Pain flickered across his features, and they hardened, sending a jolt of alarm through Maari.

  “I’m sorry. That was insensitive of me.” And really, wouldn’t she have been upset if he’d mentioned her brother’s execution so casually?

  “Yes.” Malac blinked, seeming to reset his expression, though Maari thought perhaps it lacked a little of the warmth it had held before, and she cursed herself for reminding him of why she was here. That her body was—at least in part—recompense for the loss of his father. “My mother is still in the palace. And I think, though she would never say this, that it gives her some small amount of satisfaction to have outlived both the king and the queen.”

  “And the current king is happy to have her stay here? I assume it’s at his discretion?”

  “Jude lets her stay out of respect for me. And because he understands that in some ways, her presence in his life was no more her choice than yours is.” His shrug felt a little bitter. “The king takes what he wants. That’s true no matter who wears the crown.”

  Maari nodded as she chewed, selecting her next words carefully. “And if I behave—if I’m given clothing—will I be allowed outside? There’s a lovely garden outside my window, and it’s been days since I felt the sun on my face.”

  “My mother’s suite has its own garden. Maybe, once you’ve truly acclimated, we can get you a similar setup. You could amuse yourself by planning the layout of your plants and walkways. Designing a fountain, maybe?”

  “And will I be allowed to travel? To see my family?”

  Malac’s gaze narrowed on her. “We are your family. We�
��re everything you will ever need, princess. Lovers. Guardians. Providers. Companions. Fathers of your children. We are your life now. We’re all the family you need. At least until you start adding to it.”

  Maari’s heart pounded painfully at the realization that she’d hit the end of Malac’s good will. As kind as he seemed, he would not forget the reason she’d been given to him, any more than she would forget the reason she could never truly submit. Even when she had to play along.

  Stead Delayne had not started the war, yet it was alone in paying the price. If her brother’s execution was just, then so was the death he’d meted out to Cedric Camden, and she could not have children with the men who’d killed Gareth. Who’d imprisoned and starved her. Who’d hurt her, for their own amusement. Who threatened to march over her homeland and kill every man, woman, and child still living there.

  She intended to kill Jude Camden, and until that opportunity presented itself, she could only bide her time and play their game.

  Maari cleared her throat and took a sip from her water glass. Then she put on a pleasant smile. “I think you will make a great father. But I can’t really picture Orlann being good with children. Not with his current understanding of ‘toys,’ anyway.”

  Malac sat straighter, seeming to preen under her praise, coupled with a criticism of his middle brother. “Fair point,” he admitted. “But even if Orlann doesn’t truly care for them, he would never hurt them.” He shrugged. “And you never know. He might surprise you.”

  Maari chewed her food, trying to disguise her skeptical silence as a pleasant pause in the conversation. When she was finished, she set her fork down and sipped again from her water glass. Then she met his gaze from across the table. “And now, I suppose…?” She glanced at the freshly made bed.

  Malac shrugged with a gentle smile, his good mood restored along with his anticipation. “I am here under somewhat of an obligation.” Maari nodded as he stood and took her hand, helping her from her chair, more out of courtesy than necessity. “But again, I promise I’m not here to hurt you.” And to seal that promise, he tugged her close and pressed a kiss to her lips.

  Maari groaned as his scent overwhelmed her, his hands cradling her jaw. His tongue caressed the seam of her lips, and when she opened for him, he plunged inside, feeding from her mouth with the same passion that had ushered her through the taking of her virginity the night before.

  Could that possibly have been just a day ago?

  “How do you feel?” he murmured against her skin as he kissed his way down her neck.

  “Better. Good,” she amended as his grip tightened on her hips.

  “Thank the gods.” Malac lifted her, and her legs wrapped around his waist. “Because I’ve been waiting for this for four days, and I don’t think I can wait anymore. You have no idea how hard it is to see you sitting there naked and not be buried deep inside you.” He carried her from the table to the bed, where he laid her on her back, then he rose to unfasten his pants.

  “The solution would seem to be giving me some clothes.” She propped herself up on her elbows, still reclined in front of him.

  “No,” Malac said as he stepped out of his shoes and shoved his pants down. “That would be solving the wrong part of the problem.” As he approached the bed, she stole a peek at his exposed cock, jutting proudly toward her, like a rod leading a parched man to water. It was longer than Jude’s and rivaled it in girth, and though she’d now taken both of Malac’s brothers, she couldn’t help the bolt of anxiety that traveled up her spine at the thought of having that inside her.

  But instead of falling on top of her, pressing her into the mattress, Malac took her hand and tugged her gently to her feet. He kissed her again, and when he finally pulled away, he left her gasping, clenching her thighs against a trickle of moisture rolling down them.

  “I’ve been dying to feel your mouth on me since I saw you swallow Jude’s cock. I’m not going to make you do that. I know Orlann already put you through a lot tonight. But if you wanted to give it a shot, I’d be awfully damn proud of my beautiful princess.”

  Maari’s heart lurched into her throat. Malac was the longest of the Camden brothers, and she was very fond of being able to breathe.

  “What do you think?” He leaned in to kiss her neck, just below her ear, and his scent, combined with the feel of his hands trailing down from her waist to cup her ass sent a surge of lust crashing over her. “Would you like to make me really happy?”

  Of course she wanted to make him happy. Suddenly, with the taste of his lips lingering on hers and his scent overwhelming her senses, she wanted that almost as badly as she wanted him to fill her up. To ease that cavernous ache between her legs.

  “You want me to take you deep like that?” She frowned. “You’re longer than he is, and I don’t know if I can—”

  “I have faith in you. Will you give it a shot?”

  “Okay. I’ll try,” she whispered, and the smile he gave her was like the warmth of sunshine on her skin. It was bright and wonderful. In that moment, she would have done anything to keep that smile on his face. To keep him looking at her like that.

  Anything.

  9

  Malac

  Malac stared down at his gorgeous princess, his cock engorged and throbbing in anticipation of finally feeling her touch. Fuck Jude for making him wait four days. Fuck Orlann for traumatizing her so that Malac’s only options had been to coddle her or rape her.

  His moment had finally arrived, and he intended to savor it. Starting with those perfect, plump lips wrapped around the base of his eager cock.

  “Okay, I’ll try,” she whispered. But then Maari only stared up at him, her light, golden-brown eyes wide with doubt, her smooth forehead creased with worry.

  What the fuck was wrong with her now? He’d bathed her. He’d fed her. He’d indulged her questions. He’d even resisted the godawful need to slide his dick right into her tight, lubed up ass, when she’d presented it for aftercare.

  As strong as that desire had been, indulging it would have meant the end of the adorable, worshipful way she’d looked at him as he’d helped her out of the tub and escorted her to the table. The man who plays her knight cannot also be her nightmare.

  But there were advantages to the role he’d chosen for himself in her life, as well. She might obey Jude and Orlann out of fear, but a woman would only truly want to please a man who cared about her. Who protected her. Who provided for her.

  So why was she staring at him with anxiety swimming in her eyes, after what Orlann had done to her? After Jude had left her sobbing on the bed. Why did she look scared and unsure, when he could fucking see desire for him dripping down the inside of her bare thigh?

  “What’s wrong, princess? Change your mind?” The effort it took not to snarl that question at her was staggering. He’d spent the past four days waiting for this moment. The past twenty-four hours stroking his own swollen cock, watching his brothers enjoy her.

  “No,” she whispered, as an innocent flush took over her cheeks. “I just…” She gave him a helpless shrug. “I don’t want to disappoint you.”

  His cock jerked, straining for her. There was nothing hotter than a woman desperate to please.

  Malac cradled the side of her face in one hand. “Princess, you could never disappoint me.” He tugged her closer, pleased when the feel of his cock trapped against her bare stomach made her gasp. “Kiss me,” he ordered softly.

  Maari went up on her toes, her already hard nipples scraping up his chest, her stomach caressing his cock, and her lips pressed against his with an almost chaste hesitance. He groaned. Then he grabbed her by the waist and slid his tongue into her sweet mouth.

  The princess moaned, and he let his hands slide over her hips to clutch at the firm globes of her ass as he plundered her mouth. When she began to respond, to stroke her tongue along his all on her own, he slid one hand up her spine to cradle the back of her skull and the other between her legs, to sink two fingers into
a passage already wet and swollen for him.

  The slightly rough patch just inside her was engorged with her arousal, so he rubbed it with every plunge of his fingers inside her, and soon she was gasping into his mouth, clinging to him with both hands.

  “Are you close?” he whispered, breaking away from her mouth.

  “Yes. Gods, yes, that feels amazing.” Her breaths came in soft little pants, her gaze locked with his, and he saw none of the reluctance Orlann had drawn from her, along with her arousal.

  “Good girl.” He stroked into her twice more, and the moment she began to clench around him, he withdrew his fingers and took a step back.

  The princess stared at him, stunned by the loss, her lips swollen and wet from his kisses, her face flushed with need.

  “Do you see what I’ve just done for you?” he whispered, holding her gaze as he lifted his fingers to show her the evidence of her own lust. “Do you feel how close you came to orgasm?”

  “Yes,” she panted, her focus drawn to his fingers as he slid them into his mouth to feast on the taste of her.

  “Do you think you can do the same thing for me? Show me how badly you want me inside you. Make me desperate for you? You can do that, can’t you princess?”

  She nodded. “But will you talk me through it again? Last night, your voice really…helped.” She flushed with the admission, and his cock jumped, aching for her.

  “Of course. Let’s start with a kiss, and we’ll take it from there.”

  So Maari went up on her toes again, and this time she put both hands on the sides of his face, tilting his head to the angle she wanted. Malac opened his mouth, but denied her his tongue until she came after it.

  When she finally slid her tongue into his mouth, he rewarded her by sliding one hand between her legs again, lightly stroking her clit. When she groaned and plunged deeper into his mouth, he stroked a little harder. Then he took her hand and guided it to his cock.