Obsessively Yours (Fae Kings of Eden, #2)

by Jamie Applegate Hunter

To everyone who hates the word cunt— Cunt is the oldest known word in the English language used to describe female genitalia. It even predates vagina. Respect your elders.

Violet worried her heart would tire of beating furiously and stop entirely.

Roman’s laughter filled the room. Violet decided it was her favorite sound in all of Eden.

Gods, she’s pretty.

he tried not to grin when her cheeks flamed in response. She blushed a lot.

Every inch of her exposed skin glowed bright red. He liked it. A lot.

Her answer didn’t matter. He’d do anything she asked.

Roman laughed again, the sound warming Violet from the inside out.

How are there this many chickens in here? There were a lot of ways to die, but death by pecks was not one Violet had ever considered.

Roman stood on the threshold, trying, and failing, to smother his laughter with his hand. She gasped and ran toward him. “Run! They’ve gone feral!” He grabbed both of her shoulders, flipped her around, and held her against his chest. “They think you’re going to feed them. Watch.” Roman reached into a sack beside the door and threw a handful of seed into the middle of the coop. The ruthless predators ran toward the food and stabbed mercilessly at the ground with their razor-sharp beaks. That could have been me down there, she thought with horror.

Violet whirled around, wondering if pushing a prince on his butt was considered treason.

“It’s barely a scratch.” That couldn’t be right. Violet glanced down and her frown deepened at the thin line surrounded by a faint swipe of blood. She sniffed haughtily. “It hurt.”

The very object of his thoughts sulked on the other side with a book and an array of papers scattered around her.

He grinned as she righted an overturned inkwell, spewing more curses that would scandalize his mother.

Violet shamelessly planted an ear against the door and strained to hear.

“Sword stuff?” “You know what I mean,” she muttered. Roman tilted his head with feigned interest. “I don’t think I do.” He leaned casually against the wide, blue, iridescent trunk of the tree. “Explain it to me.” Matching his stance, she smiled sweetly. “If you’ll let me borrow your sword, I’ll run it through your middle as a demonstration.” She glanced at the short sword strapped to his hip. His mouth curled with amusement. “The princess has claws.”

Roman glanced at the jewelry clutched in her hand. “Did you make that?” “Yes.” She fiddled with the shells. “I think I look quite pretty with it on.” Flipping her hair dramatically, she popped a hip and struck a pose. An unreadable emotion shone in Roman’s eyes, and his voice softened. “You’re pretty without it. You don’t need that stuff.”

Violet hurried from the ballroom and realized with absolute horror that she was in love with Roman Covington.

Dear gods, if you would kindly pull me to the heavens now, I will never ask for anything again.

“I have a gift for you, but you have to give up the rest of your party for it.” She’d planned on pulling him away after midnight when the party died down, but now seemed as good a time as any. Roman opened his mouth to say something but closed it with a snap and squeezed her hand. “I’d give up anything for you, princess.”

“What scheme have you cooked up tonight, princess?” Roman’s favorite girl released his hand, pulled a few tools from her dress pocket, and crouched in front of the door. “We’re going to flip everything inside.”

He was hers completely and irrevocably, and he would do whatever it took to make her his, too.

Roman had warned everyone in the palace school against touching Violet, but he hadn’t thought she’d meet a guy from town.

“Rome,” Violet called out softly. He hesitated, knowing if she asked him to stay again, not even the gods could make him leave.

She was out of her fucking mind if she thought any amount of threatening would keep him from Violet.

Violet meant everything to him. Vivian meant nothing.

Roman would burn the palace to the ground when he took the throne if it would ease Violet’s fears.

“Why do I feel like you’re about to break my heart?”

When you fall in love and the other person doesn’t catch you, you break more than a bone when hitting the ground. You break everything. Your heart. Your soul. Your confidence in yourself. It all just shatters.

“You might get over me, but I won’t get over you. How can you ask that of me?”

He didn’t need a bond to tell him Violet was his true mate. Every royal found their soulmate at thirteen years old, but Roman had found his at twelve, only to have her ripped away.

Nothing would stop him from having her, not even the gods themselves.

She bristled at his teasing tone. “I will drag you out myself.” Roman’s slow grin promised a fight if she tried,

He’d add delusional to her long list of faults.

She might not need him, but he needed her. And wanted her. And loved her. He always had.

Royal fae were tall, and she guessed he stood at least six foot four or six foot five by now. Perfect for climbing.

Roman pasted a smile on his face and sauntered forward, prepared to find out everything he could about the man foolish enough to touch the future queen.

Roman would kill someone before he’d allow them to touch what was his. Because she was his, and he was hers. He’d never touched another woman, and he never would.

He didn’t watch her make herself come. Seeing her come for the first time would be a gift she gave to him freely. But he listened. Gods, did he listen.

“I’ve missed that sharp tongue of yours, princess.”

I will suffer the deepest ring of hell if it means one lifetime with her.

He glanced from the broken clock on the floor to her and lifted a brow. “I didn’t take you as a thrower.” She raised her chin. “There’s a lot about me you don’t know.” The smirk on his face taunted her as if to say, No there’s not.

Slayton burst through. He opened his arms wide to pull her into a hug, but a massive hand shot out above Violet’s head and landed on Slayton’s forehead to push him back. “Touch her and I’ll kill you,” Roman warned.

“You cannot go around smashing people’s faces for speaking to me,” she insisted, secretly thrilled at his obvious jealousy. What is wrong with me? His brows rose. “Yes, I can.”

“I would let nothing keep me from watching you rub your pretty little thighs together.” He should pull back, lest he send her running, but her jealousy had him on a high. “Tell me, princess, are they slippery?”

“You danced with other men?” he asked in a low voice, glaring at every man within eyesight. Got him. “I did, and it was so much fun. It’s okay if you don’t want to dance, I’m sure I can find another partner.” His head turned so fast, she wondered if it hurt his neck. “You’re playing a dangerous game, princess.”

“That man doesn’t have a partner,” she taunted, referring to a gentleman standing to the side. “If you could be a dear and put me down so I can ask him to da—ow!” Roman slapped her on the ass, hard. “Be a good girl and stop trying to get other men killed.”

“The only person I want biting me, is you.”

She turned back to Roman. “And you, stop threatening my friend.” “Best friend,” Slayton added. Roman bristled. “I’m her best friend.” “Sorry, prince, I’m her best friend,” Griff goaded with a smile to match Slayton’s.

Griff, If you ever throw an apple at Violet again, I will cut your fucking arm off. Roman P.S. Stop taking her to watch sweaty men fight.