Taken by Her Prince

It seemed like all I did was shower, but for some reason I kept feeling dirty around Steven. His words rang in my ears as I washed my face and hair, letting the soap and suds drip down my skin and pool at the bottom of the white tub.

He wanted to make me family.

I didn’t know what that meant or what he was implying. Maybe he wanted to keep me around as his little mistress, to use however he wanted, or maybe he was saying he wanted to marry me. Either way, I wasn’t interested in the bastard.

He could take his handsome smile, his expensive house, his perfect clothes, and shove them right up his ass.

Except I knew I was kidding myself. After I got out of the shower and toweled off, I wiped the steam from the mirror and stared at myself. I kept thinking about his tongue between my legs up on the roof deck. I kept thinking about the way he made me feel, like I was riding on a cloud, riding on heaven. His muscular body, his cocky smirk, his tongue and teeth and deft fingers, it all drove me insane, and I hated him for it.

I resented him for making me want him.

I got dressed, pulled on yoga pants, a sports bra, another clean tank top. I headed downstairs and was surprised to see him still dressed, sitting at the kitchen table in front of his laptop. He looked up at me and shut the lid.

“I have an errand to run,” he said.

“Got some club kids to kill?” I asked and immediately regretted it.

He winced. “No,” he said.

“Right. Sorry. That was uncalled for.”

He waved my apology off. “I’m leaving you here,” he said. “Alone, unsupervised. You can run away if you want.”

I stared at him, standing still on the threshold between the dining area and the kitchen. He looked back, head tilted, before coming around the table and stepping toward me. I moved away, pressing my back against the wall, and he stood in front of me, his eyes moving down my body in a slow wave.

“I don’t believe you,” I said.

“That’s fine.” He reached out and touched my hair, pushing it from my face. It was still wet from the shower and his fingers moved down my cheek toward my neck. He stopped there, leaving his large palm against my throat. “But I told you that I won’t lie to you.”

I bit my lip hard enough to keep me from making any stupid noises.

“It’s not like I have anywhere to go,” I said.

That made him smile. “Well. I’m glad you realized that.”

I pushed his hand away and went to move, but he grabbed my hips and pulled me back. I pushed at his chest but he held me there before grabbing my wrist and pinning me against the wall. I was breathing hard, staring at him, halfway between rage and desire.

“Get off me,” I said.

He hesitated, holding me tighter, then released me. I held my hands there for a moment before letting them fall back down.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” he said. “And don’t leave the house.”

“There’s nowhere for me to go, remember?”

He nodded. “Good. Don’t forget it.”

I stared at him and gestured at the door. “Well, go ahead. Leave, if that’s what you’re doing.”

He lingered another moment, and I could tell he wanted more from me. I don’t know if he wanted to kiss me, or pin me against the wall again, or if he wanted to yell at me. I think he wanted all three, and if I was being honest with myself, I wanted it all too.

But he turned and stalked away. He went to the front door, opened it, and hesitated. The rain was coming down hard. He looked back at me then shook his head and plunged outside, slamming the door behind him.

I stood alone in the house for a long moment. I heard his car start and drive off, but I could hardly believe it.

I was free.

I could do anything I wanted. I could run away, go outside, go anywhere in the house without him watching. For the first time since he took me, I could do anything.

I touched my shoulder where the bandage still covered my bullet wound then walked to the front door. I opened it and looked outside, just staring at the water cascading down the street toward the drains. I could step out there, splash in the puddles, run on the sidewalk.

Instead, I shut the door and turned away.

The stairs creaked as I climbed them. I held the smooth wood railing as I kept going up to the third floor, then to the back of the house where his room was tucked away. I lingered outside of the door then pulled it open and stood just inside the doorway.