Chapter 13

Charlotte

“But you didn’t know me,” I half-protest in shock. “We…we didn’t speak online then.” By speak, I mean leave random comments on each other’s posts, like a mouse playing with a lion. Inviting the lion to come get her until he did.

Now it turns out I’m responsible for my family’s secret being exposed. I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.

Brooks sits up, his abs and his muscular arms contracting with the movement. “I know what’s going on in your head, Princess. It’s not your fault. You did nothing wrong.”

“Except do exactly what Colin warned me against. He forbade me from having social media accounts.” I sit back on my bum and pull my legs up, wrapping my arms around them. “But I thought I knew better. I thought by keeping my identity a secret, no one would guess. Except you did.”

“Can’t help what I can hack into,” he says, without apology. He nods at his penis, where he’s still half-aroused. “Was that a punishment or reward?”

“Both.” If he can be honest, so can I. “But not yours, mine.”

His lips press together into a thin line and his dark blue eyes bore into mine. “Why does being with me have to be a punishment?”

“Because eventually, I’ll have to live without you.”

“What happened to our affair not ending?”

“It’s just an affair, Brooks. Nothing more than that.” I sit up a little. “It’s a Sinclair tradition to take one or two dozen. Why should I be any different?” Why am I saying this to him?

“Yeah, why should you be any different? Why should you pretend to be the sweetest, kindest woman I’ve ever met?” he shoots back.

“I’m not pretending!”

“Sure you are. It’s in your DNA to fuck anything that will let you. Just admit it, Princess, you were bored and confined by rules you hated but had to follow. I just gave you an excuse and the opportunity to be the real you.” He sneers at me and I flinch at his harsh words. However, I can tell he doesn’t mean it. The conviction that normally accompanies his opinions isn’t there. “In fact, why don’t you just fuck me and be on your way.”

My face grows hot, but I refuse to back down. I started this argument and I will finish it. “Are you asking me to leave?”

His mouth twists. “Isn’t that what Sinclairs do?”

“Don’t judge me by what—” I stop when I realize how idiotic I sound given the bit about Sinclair tradition I went on about. “No, I don’t leave simply because my boyfriend is reacting to my arseholedness by being an arsehole.”

He blinks at me, the sneer melting away. “Your arseholedness?”

I nod. “I can be an arse, Brooks. Ask my sister.” When he doesn’t say anything to that, I start to get up. Perhaps some fresh air will help.

He lunges for me and we go tumbling to one side, but he quickly recovers, pinning me to the mattress with his hips and his hands on my wrists. “Where do you think you’re going?”

I lick my lips. “For a walk on the beach.”

His gaze skims over me, making my nipples hard and reminding me of how wet I am from pleasuring him. “Not in that you’re not.”

“What shall I wear?”

“Not a damn thing, Princess.” He dips his head, his lips stopping millimeters from my mouth. “Stay with me. We can pretend that the conversation in the dining room never happened.”

“I don’t like fighting with you.”

He smiles. “We can do other things instead.”

“Like what?”

“Make you come.” He lightly kisses my mouth and leans up again. “Make you become addicted to me.”

“I’m afraid I already am.”

His eyes darken. “Don’t be afraid of me, Charlotte. I would never hurt you.”

Physically no, but emotionally…he already has, even if he didn’t mean to. “Why did you want to set me free?”

“Because no one should live their life locked up in a tower, no matter how royal it is.”

I smile at him, my heart turning in my chest. “Oh Brooks, don’t you know?”

“Know what?”

“When this is over, I have to go back to my tower…only when I do, it will be with the torture of having been in love with you.” Worse, the man I do end up marrying will be second-best to Brooks. I know this with everything inside me. When Sinclairs love, we do it fiercely and completely.

What I felt for my ex was nothing like this. A schoolgirl crush at the most, a young woman in love with love and the thought of being courted by Prince Charming. Instead, I’ve fallen for the villain of the story. The rogue who goes his own way, unimpressed by money and titles.

“Charlotte, don’t—”

“I am, you know. Hopelessly and wonderfully in love with you,” I confess, searching his face. “It’s bloody terrifying.”

“Don’t go back to your tower,” he says in all seriousness. “Stay with me. Marry me. I can give you everything you want.”

Yes. Yes. Yes. My poor heart is shouting the word at me, but my brain kicks into gear. This man, whether he knows it or not, is the perfect knight to rescue a damsel in distress. “You don’t want to marry me. You only want to save me.”

He smiles with a crooked grin. “If saving you means marrying you and having you in my bed every night, I’ll do it.”

“Gen would put me in the dungeon.”

“You said it hadn’t been used in years,” he reminds me. “I heard you tell my niece that.”

I laugh. “That wouldn’t stop my sister. Besides, the only way my marriage would be recognized by Parliament would be for me to renounce my claim to the throne.” Not that I care, really. I’d still be legally married, just not eligible for the throne should something happen to Gen. “Or for Gen to give her blessing by going before Parliament on our behalf.”

My stomach knots up at the thought. What would she have to promise in order to gain their approval?

“Does it mean that much to you? You’d rather be queen someday than have your freedom?” he asks.

No. A million times, no. “I am Gen’s only heir. She needs me and I’m bound by duty.”

“What about what you need?” He lets go of my wrists and lowers himself on me, keeping most of his weight on his arms. “Are you going to wait until she finally picks a man to marry before you allow yourself to do the same?”

“I don’t know,” I say in all honesty. “I think she wants us to date eligible suitors together.”

“You’re already in a relationship and it’s fucking exclusive,” he all but growls at me. “At least think about it, Charlotte. My offer stands. You want a way out, I’ll marry you and your entire family can just deal with it.”

“Your very romantic offer of marriage is duly noted,” I reply dryly.

He rocks against me, very deliberately, and I gasp. “Maybe I can change your mind.”

“With sex?”

“Oh yeah, lots and lots of sex,” he says before his mouth descends on mine.

Brooks doesn’t change my mind, but he does take my mind off things by keeping me so busy over the next two days that I can’t possibly think of love or marriage or even my parentage.

Gen’s called twice, but I’ve ignored her calls. Even Colin and Theo have group texted me, and they hate those like the plague. I’ve responded to everyone with two sentences.

I’m fine. See you soon.

My entire world centers on the two of us: we swim, talk about everything as we walk along the shore, go hunting for sand dollars on Shell Island, and make love whenever the mood strikes—which in our case is all the time.

“That’s a pretty smile,” Brooks says, as we stretch out in an enormous tub filled with bubbles. My feet can’t reach the other side, but the length is perfect for Brooks. When I asked why he needed such a large tub, he replied that even guys liked to work their muscles out and the standard five-and-half-foot tub didn’t cut it when you were almost six foot four.

He holds up his mobile, taking a selfie of us. He’s taken a lot of those lately. “Don’t worry. I’m keeping this one to myself.” He slides his thumb over the screen, stopping on a picture of me on the balcony, staring off into the distance. The sun is setting and I’m wearing only his T-shirt. “This one is my favorite.”

I gaze at my wistful face. “I look so lonely.”

“Well, you were waiting for me at the time,” he teases, then slides his thumb over the screen again. This time it’s the two of us and I’m smiling as he kisses my cheek, his hand high the air so that camera is pointed down, at an angle to us. We look…like a couple in love.

An everyday, ordinary couple in love.

My heart twists in my chest, but I push that feeling away. Our time here is precious and short, no need to muck it up with what cannot be.

I sit in his lap, wriggling my bare butt against him and smiling when he groans a little. “You can post what you like. I’m not ashamed of you.”

He kisses my neck, moving my wet hair to one side as he begins nibbling on my ear. “I’m not posting pictures of you in this tub.” He cups my breasts with his big, capable hands. “These are for my eyes only.”

Turning in his arms, I straddle him. “And your body is for my eyes only, so no more workout selfies.”

My breasts are on eye level with him and, judging by the way he can’t stop staring at them, he’ll agree to anything. “My followers demand those.”

Okay, so he’s a better multitasker than I thought. I pout a little and he laughs before kissing me. “Not even if your biggest fan”—I point to myself—“says that if you do, she’ll make you very, very satisfied.”

He raises his brows. “I’m listening.”

“I thought we could start with a little of this.” I rock my hips, sliding my clit along his erection that’s growing harder by the second.

His head falls back and he thrusts up. “What else you got for me?”

“More of the same.” I close my eyes to the rhythm, grinding down each time my clit comes into contact fully with his hard length. He fists his hand in my hair, drawing me down to him and shoving his tongue into my mouth. I welcome it, tangling my tongue with his and wanting more.

Lifting up a little, I slide down again, almost taking the head of him inside of me.

He murmurs a curse, one hand sliding down my back to hold me in place for a second before he grabs my bum tightly. “You’re playing with fire, Charlotte.”

“Don’t care.” I widen my stance and let gravity do the work, taking him inside where I’m so wet for him that not even the water and soap can wash it away.

“Charlotte…shit…you feel so damn good.” His forehead comes to rest in the valley between my breasts, his hands tight on my back, molding me to him.

I don’t stop moving, don’t stop making the water slosh around us. His mouth closes around one of my nipples, sucking hard and making me jump, then moan in pleasure.

“I could get you pregnant, Princess,” he warns.

“I know.” Well, I know now but I wasn’t thinking of that before. Who can think of anything in the heat of the moment?

He thrusts up, sending his cock deep.

I gasp.

He laughs low in his throat.

I place my hands on his shoulders and ride him harder, faster.

His laugh turns into a moan.

“You’ll have to marry me, if I do,” he says, but it sounds more like a promise.

“I don’t have to do anything.”

He grabs my hair, winding it around his wrist and forcing me to look at him. The slight sting only makes me hotter for him. “When it comes to us, you have to do exactly as I say.”

“But I’m a princess,” I protest, loving this dominant side of him. I always love it, during sex or when we’re just us, because I know it’s just him being protective of me.

“And I’m the man who commands you.” He raises his legs, nearly toppling me forward as he pulls out of me. “I can’t come inside you.”

“I know,” I whisper.

He gets out of the tub and I follow after him, but instead of toweling off, he throws a bunch of towels on the floor and says, “Lie down and spread your legs for me.”

Immediately, I comply, watching him as he stares down at me, his erection long and beautifully thick. With his wide shoulders, narrow waist, and lean muscles, he’s perfection. Every inch of him looks sculpted. He could actually be the model for the marble statues on display in the royal castle’s pleasure gardens.

Brooks sinks to his knees, then on all fours as he wedges his shoulders between my thighs and begins to feast on me like a starving man. I run my fingers through his thick, blond hair, trying not to yank on it.

And fail.

But that only spurs him on, his tongue lavishing so much attention on my clit that I come in a matter of seconds. He flips me over on my stomach, his arm coming around my waist and pulling me against him. The crisp hairs on his chest and arm tickles my skin, making me giggle a little.

Slowly, oh so slowly, he enters me again, stretching me out with each thick inch until he’s so very deep inside me again. He whispers dirty, filthy, yet loving words in my ear about how he’s going to fuck me until I can’t walk, how he’s going to fill me with so much sperm that he’ll have to fuck me in my ass to give my pussy a break…and he tells me how much he loves being with me like this.

How sweet my skin tastes.

How beautiful I am in the morning when I first wake up.

How if I would let him, he would take care of me for the rest of our lives.

I clench around him, eliciting a groan from him. He rubs my clit, sending me over the edge again. I burst into flames, into tiny pieces of me that come back together with bits of him woven in.

“I have to come, sweetheart. Do you want me to pull out?” he asks, his voice tight and on edge.

Images bombard my brain, showing me a future with and without Brooks. A future that doesn’t include ever becoming queen. I’d have a normal life with him.

“No,” I say without hesitation. “I want everything you promised to give me.”

“Everything,” he agrees, filling me completely. So completely that sparks of desire start to come to life once more.

Withdrawing, he pulls nearly all the way out of me and I moan my disappointment. “Anything at all?”

He thrusts inside. “Whatever you want, Charlotte.”

I push my hips back against him. “I only want you.”

He grabs my chin, pulling my face to one side so he can kiss me. A groan rumbles from his throat and he tenses up, then shoves in one last time. Another firm rub of his fingers on my clit makes me join him, makes me call out his name as he comes in hot splashes that I milk out of him.

Slowly, he lowers us to the towels and rolls to one side, taking me with him and keeping his cock firmly lodge inside my pussy. “You’re mine now. Don’t care what your government says.”

The ramifications of what we’ve done hit me, like when a rock toppled over on my ancestor, Princess Davida, when she attempted to climb Mount Evergreenwood with her lover, who was twenty years her junior…and the husband of another woman.

Perhaps this time, there won’t be deathly consequences for my choice of lover. I mean, not every Sinclair queen or heir has to meet her end in a grizzly death. Someone has to live to a ripe old age with the one she loves at her side.

I want that someone to be me.

However, history, both recent and ancient, isn’t on my side.