Twisted Games (Twisted, #2)

by Ana Huang

“By the way, princess, the book is upside down.”

“Life is a war zone, princess. The sooner you understand that, the safer you’ll be.”

“There’s more to life than trying not to die.”

“I’d rather you hate me alive than love me dead.”

The first was to protect Bridget. The second was to resist her.

“You can either walk out of here with me like an adult, or I can throw you over my shoulder and carry you out of here like a child. Which one will it be, princess?”

“You should be, princess. You wanna know why?” I growled. “Because you’re right. I do want you. But I don’t want to kiss or make love to you. I want to fuck you. I want to punish you for mouthing off and letting another man put his hands on you. I want to yank up that tiny fucking dress of yours and pound into you so hard you won’t be able to walk for days. I want all those things, even though I can’t have them. But if you don’t stop looking at me like that…”

“You thinking of me, princess?” I asked silkily. “Hmm? Are you thinking of how much you want me to pin you to the bed and tongue fuck that sweet little cunt until you come all over my face?”

“Take every inch down your throat like a good girl.”

“I came back despite knowing the torture I’d have to go through because I can’t stay away from you. Even when you’re not there, you’re everywhere. In my head, in my lungs, in my fucking soul. And I’m trying very hard not to lose my shit right now, sweetheart, because all I want is to cut off that fucker’s head and serve it on a platter for daring to touch you. Then bend you over the hood and spank your ass raw for letting him.”

he pressed me further against the wall while wrapping one hand around my throat. “Did you do that to bait me, princess? Hmm?”

“And princess…don’t bother wearing any underwear.”

“I have lots of plans for you, princess, and every single one ends with my fingers, tongue, or cock inside your sweet little cunt.”

“But first, I want to make one thing clear. From this point on, you’re mine. No other man touches you. If they do…” My fingers dug into her skin. “I know seventy-nine ways to kill a man, and I can make seventy of them look like an accident. Understand?”

“Come for me, princess.”

“Remember. In public, you’re my princess, but in private, you’re my whore.”

“Spread your legs wider. Let me see that pretty pussy dripping for me.”

“What would the good citizens of Eldorra say if they could see you now, hmm? Their prim and proper princess bent over and spread wide, waiting for a hard cock to fuck her.”

“Trust me, princess. I would rather end my own life than ask you to do anything that might hurt you.”

“What? You let me eat you out on the throne but I can’t say the word fucking?”

“The princess and the duke. Fairytale shit.”

“Keep your underwear, gloves, and heels on,” he said, still in that deceptively soft tone. “And crawl to me.”

“What would your people say if they could see you now, princess?” he grunted, pushing his cock deeper until it hit the back of my throat. I spluttered, my eyes watering from the sheer size of him. “Crawling and choking on your bodyguard’s cock?”

he grunted, pushing his cock deeper until it hit the back of my throat. I spluttered, my eyes watering from the sheer size of him. “Crawling and choking on your bodyguard’s cock?”

“There’s not much in the world I want to claim as mine. I’ve seen and done too much shit in my life to believe in forever. But you…”

“Who does your pussy belong to?” Rhys removed his fingers from my mouth and squeezed my breast. “You,” I gasped, clutching the edge of the table so hard my knuckles turned white. “Say it again.” Hard. Demanding. Authoritative. “You! My pussy belongs to you.” My voice broke in a sob as he delivered another stinging slap to my clit. “That’s right. It belongs to me, and don’t you ever forget it.” Slap.

“You are so wet, princess.” Slap. “You should see how pretty and swollen your clit looks right now. Like it’s begging for me to spank it harder.” SLAP.

“Careful, Mr. Larsen, or I’ll think you actually like me.” His mouth curled into a grin. “Baby, we’re way beyond like.”

“This. Us.” She gestured between us. “Whatever we had. It has to end.”

“Please don’t make this any harder than it has to be.” Please let my heart break in peace.

“You don’t get it. There is no happily ever after for us.” We weren’t a fairytale.

We were a forbidden love letter, tucked into the back of a drawer and retrieved only in the darkness of night. We were the chapter of bliss before the climax hit and everything crumbled into ash. We were a story that was always meant to end. “This is it.”

“I don’t need a happily ever after. I need to be by your side. I need you happy and healthy and safe. Goddammit Bridget, I need you. In any way I can have you.” His voice broke for the first time in all my years with him, and my heart cracked in response. “If you think I’m leaving you to deal with this bullshit alone, you don’t know me at all.”

“Don’t. Fucking. Say it.” “I’m marrying Steffan. He already agreed.” It wasn’t a marriage of love. It was a political contract. Nothing more, nothing less. Markus had reached out to the Holsteins yesterday and made them sign an NDA before making the proposition. They’d agreed a few hours later. It’d all happened so quickly it made my head spin.

“The fuck you are.” “Rhys, it’s done.” “No,” he said flatly. “What did I tell you in the gazebo, princess? I said from that point on, no other man touches you, and I meant it. You sure as fuck aren’t marrying someone else. We have nine months. We will figure. It. Out.”

“Royal marriage isn’t about knowing someone. It’s about suitability, and the fact is, he’s suitable and you’re not.”

“So we’re over. Just like that.”

No, not just like that. You’ll never know how much my heart is breaking right now.

“I’m sorry,” I wh...

“No, Your Highness,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

She’d done what she thought she had to, and it fucking broke my heart, but it wasn’t her fault.

I didn’t give a fuck what the law said. She wasn’t marrying Steffan. I’d visit every minister in Parliament and force them to rewrite the law if I had to.

It didn’t matter that she’d ripped my heart out the other day. If anyone hurt my princess in any way—physically, mentally, or emotionally—there would be hell to pay.

“Talk about her like that again, and I’ll feed you your teeth.”

I might not know what love was, but I knew I was in love with Bridget von Ascheberg, to the point where even I—the man who was so good at denying himself anything good in life—couldn’t deny it.

It’d only been three days, and I already missed her so goddamned much I would’ve cut off my right arm for the chance to glimpse her in person,

“Laugh all you want, but I was willing to push you two together because you were so clearly in love, even if it meant I had to take up the mantle should Bridget abdicate. Is that not a sacrifice?”

“We can’t break the law, but you’re a smart girl, and you have nine months. Do what you have to do. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

The best rulers are those who can wield both the carrot and the stick in equal measure.

Fuck it. If tonight didn’t work, I’d try again until I succeeded. I’d fought and won impossible battles all my life, and the one for Bridget was the most important one of all. If she couldn’t or wouldn’t fight for us—because of her guilt, her duty, her family, or any other reason—I’d fight enough for us both.