Total pages in book: 9
Estimated words: 8109 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 41(@200wpm)___ 32(@250wpm)___ 27(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 8109 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 41(@200wpm)___ 32(@250wpm)___ 27(@300wpm)
“I am your king, my love; I can do as I please.”
“Very true,” I whimper, grinding my body against his seeking the sweet relief I crave. He has made me addicted to him in a matter of hours. I should be concerned, but I am not. I am delighted beyond belief that love is real, and I get to navigate it with this man.
“I shall not tease you anymore, Braya, but I cannot hold back.”
“I never asked you too,” I say, grabbing his chin and guiding him to my mouth. The searing kiss we share is almost my undoing, but then he slides into me slowly.
“Fuck, Braya. You are beyond perfection,” he growls, his teeth clenched.
“I should hope not, my king. That would be very boring indeed,” I cry as my breath leaves my body in short, desperate pants.
No more words are shared between us, just gasps, moans, and groans coming from both of us. He is so deep inside of me; I could swear our souls melted together. I scream his name as I come apart in his arms.
“You never answered me,” he growls, still pumping into me, harder and faster than earlier.
“What?” I ask, confused; I am not sure I could even tell him my name right now.
“Marry me. Tomorrow.”
“The banns,” I say, and he pauses his movements.
“Banns are nothing to the king, Braya. Marry me.” He looks down at me before resuming. I tighten my legs around his waist, never wanting him to stop loving me like this.
“Yes,” I hiss as my release finds me again.
“Thank fuck,” he growls as he fills my wombs with his seed yet again.
Tomorrow cannot come soon enough.
Chapter 5
Christofur
Once she is asleep, I gently get out of bed. There is much to be done. I dress in darkness before stoking the fire. I do not want her to catch a chill without me to warm her. Outside the bedchamber, I find Gavin. He’s still the best damn protocol officer, but he is advancing in years and will retire soon. He has been training his replacement for about six months now.
“Good evening, Your Majesty. I trust you are well?” he asks, a grandfatherly and knowing look on his face. He knows. I think the whole castle knows. If there is one thing Braya is not, it is quiet.
“Very well, Gavin. You are up late.”
“I assumed you would need me eventually. An unchaperoned girl in the castle can only mean marriage bells.”
“Indeed. We are to be wed later today.”
“I thought so. Forgive me for anticipating your needs. Bishop Taylor is already here and in guest quarters. He says he can be ready at ten in the morning.”
“Excellent.”
“I have also set up a wedding breakfast on the south terrace for eleven. I just need to send out invitations, but I wanted to be sure this is what you wanted.”
“Yes. Guests are welcome to the breakfast, but I would prefer if the ceremony were private. Her coronation should be at the same time. I will host a ball later this month in her honor.”
“Very good. I will send messengers out now with the invites. I am not sure how many will turn up with the late notice, but I am sure the promise of a ball will appease those that cannot make it.”
“Very well. I should also require my knight's council to meet me after the ceremony before breakfast. Can you handle that for me?”
“Of course. I shall set it up in the throne room. Shall I have the smaller throne moved back in?”
“Yes, please,” I reply. Gavin is making this so easy for me. I will hate to lose him.
“Very well. Get some sleep, Your Majesty. It’s going to be a wonderful day for all of Raultshire.”
“Indeed. I will also be barring Robert Lyons from the premises. If he resists, have the guard kill him.”
“Sire?”
“My lady’s father. Not the best man, if you know what I mean.”
“Very good. I will inform the guard at once.”
“Thank you, Gavin. For everything.”
“You are very welcome. Now, sleep, sire.”
I leave Gavin and head down to the kitchens. The cook, Belinda, always leaves some sweets for me. Sure enough, they are right there on the table in the middle of the kitchen. I make a plate, grab a bottle of wine, and head back upstairs. Braya is sitting up in bed. Her breasts are out, but the blankets cover her lower half.
“Where did you go, my love? I missed you,” she says.
“I had a few things to take care of. The bishop is here and will be ready at ten.”
“Ten? I have nothing to wear.”
“Eliza will take care of you.”
“Alight. I shall not worry about it. What have you there?” she asks, gesturing to the plate in my hand.
“Some sweet treats and fruit.”
“It has been so long since I had a sweet.”