Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 92957 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92957 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
I've been almost gentle until now, but I’ve exercised virtually all my self-control. I want her to trust me, to look to me not just as a man but as her protector. The idea of her running again fills me with undeniable rage.
No one deserves her but me.
Steam rises in the air from the drawn bath behind us as I lean in closer, my lips brushing her ear. "You're mine," I whisper, a statement and a declaration. Her breath hitches, her eyes meeting mine. She opens her mouth as if to say something and hesitates, uncertain. I bend my mouth to hers and kiss whatever she was going to say away.
The less said, the better.
I need to erase every trace of doubt from her mind and make sure she knows exactly who she belongs to. My thumb grazes over her collarbone as I kiss her again and again, savoring the way she trembles.
"Trust me," I whisper to her, my voice softer this time, almost pleading. I hate that I'm showing any weakness because I am not vulnerable, but here I am, raw, exposed. I need her trust, her submission. Maybe more.
She doesn't pull away. I help her out of her bra and panties, then lift her in my arms, careful not to aggravate her injuries. She's light in my hold and fits perfectly against me. As I carry her to the bathroom, toward the waiting tub, my heart clenches. Grounding myself into my new reality.
I lower her into the water, steam curling around her. She won’t slip away from me. Not physically, anyway. Pain is a tool, something to be used when necessary… But not now. Now she needs to be pampered; now she needs to know that she is precious to me. My prized possession. I kneel beside the tub, my fingers trailing through the water, brushing against her skin once. Twice.
My dick aches. Throbs. My jaw clenches. Control. I must maintain control. But it's slipping, little by little, with every look that she gives me, every soft intake of breath. Every time we touch.
"Weakness gets you killed," my uncle told me when I became guardian of my siblings and heir to the throne. "Never let anyone take your power." But I want to protect her. Control her.
She closes her eyes and sinks deeper into the water. It reaches her chin. For one brief moment, I imagine what would happen if she slipped under the edge, sinking into oblivion. I imagine yanking her out of the water, breathing life into her.
What the fuck is going on with me?
Her eyes open, and a look of challenge meets my gaze. "Well, are you joining me or not?"
The tension crackles in the air between us. For a moment, I don't move. I let the words settle between us, a challenge and an invitation. Her bright blue eyes are wide as if she's surprised even herself, but steady, waiting for me—curiosity tinged with a bit of defiance. My little swan is daring me to come closer, even though she should be running. She's inviting me into her space, laying down whatever fears she has.
"Is that a challenge?" My voice is a low, deep growl. I hold her gaze as I shed my boxers. The air is thick and hot with steam, and as I come closer, her eyes track the movement of my hands. I thought it was dumb as fuck to have this huge bathtub in here when I first took over this room.
My parents' room was on the first floor—not the primary bedroom because they wanted to be nearby when they were raising us. When I became guardian of my siblings and owner of this house, I took over the vacant main suite. I wanted space. This is a good vantage point, most importantly, overlooking the front lawn, with wide open spaces so I can see to the left and right of the estate. Now, having a tub like this doesn’t seem like a waste. Even if we never use it again, it was worth it just to see her naked body submerged in its depths.
Her eyes track the movement of my hands as I brace myself on the edge of the large tub. The control I have over her with the slightest movement sends a surge of heat through me. "Are you impatient, little swan?"
"Why do you call me that?" she asks, licking her lips. She tilts her chin up defiantly as though she's brave, but I know that she's tumbling. I can tell by the way her fingers graze her neck and the way she gasps for air.
"Your nickname. You grew up in Siberia. It seemed fitting."
"Siberia," she says quietly. "I remember that." Fuck. I don't want to trigger her fucking memory. I need her aligned with me before I do. Her memory is going to come back, and I have no idea how or when, but I need her loyal to me before it does. "You're elegant like a swan," I say quietly, changing the subject. "Graceful."