Royal Obsession (Fated Royals 3)

His quarters were not at all as I imagined them. He carried me across the front room, which was arranged as a luxurious living space before a low-burning fire. Oxblood leather chairs and rough but fine wood tables sat on top of a deep blue rug. He set me down there, in front of the fire, and I looked up to see a rack of antlers mounted over the fireplace. I counted the points and then counted them again. Seventeen. I knew those antlers. They were from one of my bucks.

I turned to him, my mouth falling open in surprise. “You said…”

He smiled again, smug this time. Smug and cocky. “That the taxidermist lost them. I know.” He ran his tongue over his teeth. “I should probably apologize. I’ve told you a lot of bullshit just to keep my secret safe. No more, though.” He took his cloak from my shoulders, and flung it over the sofa arm. “No more bullshit ever again.”

Glancing around the room, I saw all manner of things that told me that if I had been feeling things for him, he’d been feeling things for me a whole lot longer. On the mantel rested a pearl earring that I had lost long ago, on top of a lace handkerchief on which I had embroidered my own initials. I traced my finger over the A and the Z, both of which had errors in the embroidery. “My mother told me to donate this one to the alms house.”

“I know,” he said. “You mother never appreciated anything you did. But I had to have it For a long time, it still smelled like you. I gave the alms house a small chest of gold to settle my conscience. Fucking killed me when the scent started to fade.”

That wasn’t all. On the wall was a small but finely framed sketch of a flower I had done. I remembered that day. It was early summer. I’d been in the summer house alone, doodling. And had left it behind.

Turning to him, he met me with an almost-apologetic grimace.

“Told you. Fucking obsessed.”

It broke my heart to think of him here, all alone, pining away for me while I was so terrified of him.

“We’ve wasted so much time,” I said.

“Yeah, but I’ve got you now,” he said, scooping me up again. “That’s all that matters.”

I looped my arm around his thick, muscular neck and he carried me through his chambers. He kicked open the door at the far end of the room, and there it sat. His bed. Neatly made with crisp gray sheets, elegant and masculine. He laid me down on it, kissing me as he did. Without breaking the kiss, he climbed on top of me, staring down at me. Then he let out a low growl as he drew my arms up over my head, gripping both wrists in one palm like he did when he’d first kissed me.

“Fuck,” he said, shaking his head, looking me up and down. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Laying there beneath him, wrapped so luxuriously in his sheets, with my head so comfortable on the pillow, I was suddenly deliriously, dizzily exhausted. The day caught up to me like a tidal wave. As he kissed me again, this time deeper and more possessively, I fought hard to keep my eyes open. But he kissed so intensely and it felt so good that my eyes fluttered shut. When we parted, I tried to blink myself awake. But he was so big. And strong. And I felt so warm, and safe and….

A yawn snuck up on me and I was utterly powerless to stop it. I popped my eyes open and looked up at him, my brother, so gorgeous and strong and intense. I half expected him to be mad that I yawned, but I could see at once he was quite the opposite. He smiled down at me, laughing a little, sweeping my hair from my forehead with his big hand.

He leaned down on top of me, and nibbled my ear.

Then said, in his darkest and sexiest voice, “Rest, beautiful. Gather your strength. You’re going to need it.”

When I opened my eyes, I was surrounded by dozens of flickering candles. Maksim wasn’t beside me, though, and my heart constricted at the thought that it had all been a dream. But it was no dream, for as I propped myself up in his big, luxurious bed, I saw that on the table on the other side of the room, Maksim had arranged trays of bread, fruit, and cheese. And there, standing beside the table, was Maksim himself. Shirtless, and pouring two glasses of wine.

I slid off the bed and padded over to him. He’d taken off my boots, and placed them neatly by the foot of the bed.

“There you are,” he said, handing me a glass of wine. A deep red droplet had slid down the bottle onto his thumb. I took his big hand in mine and placed his thumb in my mouth, sucking it clean as I looked up at him. Batting my lashes once and then twice.