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Gods, imagine the man in bed... he probably demanded his lovers address him by title there, too. Harder, Your Highness. Wilst thou give me permission to come, Your Highness? Let me kneel for you and show the Prince’s little prince a good time, Your H— Luther cleared his throat, and my eyes jumped to his face
“Fine. Back to protocol. To please Prince Luther, I’m to stay down on my knees until His Future Majesty is fully and completely satisfied.” “Diem Bellator!”
“Does this have to do with whatever’s going on between you and that Prince?” My jaw tightened. “Nothing’s going on between me and that Prince.” “Oh, don’t give me that bollocks. The two of you can’t keep your eyes off each other. He can’t stop touching you, and you can’t stop provoking him.”
“The victory tonight is as much yours as ours. We could not have done this without you.”
🥲
I felt him, his strange aura sweeping across my skin. Luther. As if he’d heard my thoughts, his head snapped in my direction.
Mate bond?
“Luther, you arrogant prick, come over here and talk to me!” In the crowd, a hundred eyes turned on me like a mouse that had just awoken a lion.
He stopped. His eyes darkened as they unapologetically roamed my body. “Did they hurt you?” he growled.
“First of all, if you ever call me fragile again, I’ll slice your precious royal balls off and shove them down your throat.”
If you’re the way my fate finally catches up to me, I can’t fathom a more beautiful end.”
“Let me die with the taste of you on my lips.” Our lips collided, and I was lost.
“Goodbye, Prince,” I murmured. He smiled, and it was the saddest smile I’d ever seen. “Goodbye, Miss Bellator.” I turned and walked away.
