I’ve got no fucking idea what happens at the Council for the next two days, and I don’t even give a shit. I could be signing away San Javier’s sovereignty, telling some bigger country that we’re now theirs, and I don’t care.

Because I fucking live and breathe Princess Katarina. Bruno and I barely talk, except to talk about her. Whenever I see her: a glimpse, a glance, even when I’m in the back of a crowd and she’s sitting in the throne room, regal and beautiful, she consumes my every waking thought.

I’m obsessed, possessed, driven by her, and I can tell Bruno feels the same way.

We sneak into her room again both nights, and the best part of each day is the part when I ease her tight little body onto mine, feel her clench around me, hear the way she moans when I take her. Far from the sweet, innocent girl she is on the outside, our princess can take it a little rough — the harder we fuck her, the more we pull her hair, the harder she comes for us.

It’s enough to make any sane man lose and his mind, and absolutely forget what diplomatic mission he’s on.

The third morning, when Bruno and I come into breakfast, her father, King Edward, shoots us a glare. I stop cold in my tracks for an instant, then keep moving. To be honest, I’d forgotten that we shouldn’t be doing this, that Katarina is still technically off-limits to us.

It didn’t even occur to me that the sound of her screaming our names might carry through the castle walls.

After we take our seats, Sven walks in, the buttons on his shirt straining a little, looking smug and greasy. The King gestures at the chair next to Katarina — seats are assigned, seats are always assigned — and Sven sits in it, then looks at our princess like she’s a meal.

I grip my knife in my hand, my knuckles going white. No one else fucking looks at our Katarina like that. Not our sweet, dirty girl.

I push my chair back, nearly blinded with possessive rage, ready to stand and give Prince Sven a piece of my mind, but Bruno clears his throat, his eyes flashing.

“Dom,” he says.

The muscles in his jaw are working, and his knuckles are white on his silverware too, but he lifts a bite of eggs to his mouth, and most importantly, doesn’t nearly stab someone. I take a deep breath, loosen my grip, and come back to the table.

No one else has noticed.

“Not now, not here,” Bruno murmurs. “This is a civilized place. I don’t like it either, but he’s allowed to sit next to her at a table.”

“Did you see how he looked at her?” I growl, hacking into a sausage.

“Dom,” he says, lowering his voice even more. “I want to blacken both his eyes for the way he just looked at her, but what do you think would happen if you tried something? There are guards everywhere. You’d be lucky to land two punches before being pulled off by ten men and thrown in a dungeon.”

He’s right, and I know that even if I think I could fight off ten trained men, I probably couldn’t. But I’m still raging, and I know he is too.

“Besides,” he murmurs, the voice of reason. “I trust our princess.”

I hadn’t even thought of that. Of course I know Katarina doesn’t want Sven, no matter what her father says.

I look up and glance across the room. Katarina’s looking right at us, even though Sven is going on and on about something, right next to her.

She smiles, and her smile is full of promise.

I still want Sven ridden out of the country, but I relax a little. She’s ours, and he isn’t going to change that.

* * *

After breakfast, we all file out of the room. There’s a symposium on the challenges of welcoming immigrants into a homogeneous culture across the palace, and we all walk there together, though I’ve got my eyes on the Princess, her form fifty feet ahead of us as she talks to her younger sister, Josephine.

Then, she says something to her sister, puts one hand on her arm, and turns right, down a side hallway. As she does, she looks straight at Bruno and me.

We don’t have to be told twice, and follow her down the hall. Rage is still simmering through my veins — not at her, at Sven — making me feel feral and primal.

It leads to a tower, and we can just barely see her skirt in front of us as she climbs the spiral stone stairs into a part of the castle I’ve never been to before. At the top, she disappears through a big, wooden door.

I’m already rock-hard when we walk through, shutting it behind us. It’s a spare room, just a few armchairs and a desk.

“I can’t stand him,” she says, her eyes flashing. “My parents want me to—”

I close the distance between us and cover her mouth with mine, cutting her off. Instantly she yields to me, her body practically melting into mine as she submits. A moment later Bruno pulls her to him and kisses her as well, and as he does I slide my hands under her skirt, between her legs.

She’s not wearing panties.

“He doesn’t matter,” I growl in her ear, pushing two fingers into her tight entrance. “We know you belong to us.”

Katarina moans.

“Is that why you’re fucking wet and not wearing panties?” I ask.

Across her, Bruno grins.

“Because you couldn’t wait until tonight to get fucked again?”

I take my fingers from her pussy and slide them to her back hole, making her gasp. I circle it slowly and then insert my finger to the first knuckle, just barely inside the tight ring of muscle, and Katarina exhales.

I still haven’t taken her ass, but I will. She was a virgin just a few days ago, and no matter how ready or willing she is, it takes a little patience.

But I’m rock hard and aching, just thinking about that tight virgin hole. I don’t begrudge Bruno taking her virginity, but the thought of being the first man inside her ass is such a turn on that I nearly come just thinking about it sometimes.

“I know you’re a princess,” I murmur in her ear. “I know you’ve got duties, and I know I can’t punch him in his goddamn face every time I see him, but there’s something I want you to do.”

I slide my finger in a little more. Bruno lifts her skirt, and I can feel his hand circling her clit slowly, working it.

“Anything,” Katarina breathes.

“When Sven talks to you, I want you to think about my big, thick cock fucking your tight little asshole,” I say. “I want you to think about how good it’s going to feel to have me inside you like that.”

I slide my finger in a little further.

“Yes,” she moans.

“Good,” I say, and pull my fingers out. “Now lie down on that table, because we’re going to fuck you.”