Page 32 of His Prince

“Maybe I should keep you here,” he whispers, his voice rough from sleep. His cheeks are red, a crease from his pillow lining the right one. “Maybe I should use this knife to ruin that pretty face.”

I swallow, feeling my cock twitch against him. Goddamnit.

“You’d never,” I whisper back, and he drops closer, his nose brushing against my neck and then his teeth scraping against my earlobe.

“Don’t push me, little devil.”

And then he’s moving himself off me and striding to the bathroom. I hear the water of the shower turn on and breathe deeply through my nose, waiting for my heart to stop racing. I squeeze my eyes shut and try to think of anything else besides his warm, hard body on mine, the scent of him.

My hand swats at my unruly dick, only succeeding in making it harder.

Hate this for me.

I roll up and off the bed, feeling horny and resigned, and turn toward the closet to change before catching my reflection in the window. My sheer shorts complement my ass cheeks and the lace tank top showcases my pink nipples. Yes. I decide this is how I’m going to be making breakfast. If Mikhail doesn’t like it, he can scream his displeasure into the void.

Because I’m not fucking listening to him.

If I want to cook semi-naked, then I will.

I stride into the empty kitchen and get to work, the heat from the stove, and constantly moving back and forth, keeping me warm. By the time the guys start to file inside, their stomachs rumbling, I’msweating.

“Look at you, little husband,” Felix says, pulling me into a side hug. “Nice ass.”

I huff a laugh as I dish him up some biscuits and gravy and a heaping pile of scrambled eggs. I made an easy American breakfast this morning and no one attempts to complain.

“Thank you,” I reply. “I’m not even trying.”

He chuckles and then moves out of the way, grabbing a serving of fruit that Nina cut up last night before striding toward the front door to smoke.

“Smoking is bad for you,” I call after him, but he just shakes his head.

“Don’t oppress me, little husband,” he replies just as Casey moves up behind me and squeezes my shoulder.

“Good morning, Angel. Maybe you should put some clothes on.”

“No thanks,” I reply, handing him a plate. “I’m good just like this.”

He shakes his head but takes his plate and perches at the island, watching me intently. He’s worried about me, about what I’m trying to accomplish. To be honest, I don’t know what I’m doing anymore. I know nothing.

This morning really threw me off.

Cuddling with Mikhail.

What the hell was my body even thinking?

After everyone has been dished up, Ivan meanders in, his hair sticking straight up, his glasses broken right down the middle and held together with blue painter’s tape.

“Terrible afternoon to all you pussies,” he grumbles, rubbing at his chest.

Casey peers at him and shakes his head, taking a bite of his breakfast.

“Close, but it’s morning,” I tell him. “And lucky for you, I have some food left. Would you like some?”

He nods, taking the plate from me and sitting next to Casey at the island, ignoring him completely.

“Long night?” I ask as Ivan sniffs the food and takes a tentative bite. He seems to approve because he starts to eat it with gusto.

“You have no idea the trouble. All the trouble. Have you seen my brother?”

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