Page 21 of The Princess and the Pack

She’s beautiful—sensual and alluring in more than her physical being. Her tender heart is open with eager readiness to accept mine, and I can’t think of a time in my life when I’ve felt so wanted. Not for my title or influence, but for a genuine partnership. For building a life together.

Ivy sought me out from the moment she stepped onto the grounds of Castle Ancaire regardless of my obstinate insistence on being apart. She pursued me when, as an alpha, I should have been the one to chase her.

My omega’s presence here, in my bed, tells me we stand a chance at growing together in all the ways that matter. I have no doubt my heart is already hers—the seeds of love planted when I first scented her. Apple cake and custard. Spices, honey, and all things anchoring me in home and happiness.

She is a delectable, darling dream come true.

“You’re staring.” She chuckles. Blushing, bashful, and so very bare, she stares up at me with heated anticipation.

“Yes,” I sigh, content. “I’m in awe of the goddess in my bed.”

“A goddess? Have you had too much wine, perhaps, husband?” Ivy laughs, rolling her eyes. The sweet way her scent intensifies spears right through the center of me. Does she not understand? Can she not comprehend how perfect she is to me?

I reach for her hand, bringing it to my lips to kiss her palm and rub my scent into her skin. Every touch is a blessing, and I am in desperate need of salvation. “No,goddess. I’m merely your most devoted worshiper, ready to pay tribute.”

The heaving of her chest deepens, lust turning her eyes glassy. Honey and cinnamon swirl all around me, the tart apple of her scent crisp in the air. “How do you intend to honor me, then?”

“In any manner that so pleases you,” I say simply—because it’s true. Poetry is not necessary when I’m prepared to put action behind my words.

Ivy grins, pondering over her next retort when her eyes flash with an idea. I wait with bated breath to give her whatever will keep her keen and soft like this.

“I find it offensive that I should be so bare while you are fully clothed. As my self-proclaimed devotee, should you not be similarly undressed?”

Wicked little thing.

I adore her mind and the way in which she arranges her words. My queen is sharp wit and ardor personified all at once. Truly, I’m blessed beyond measure.

“Are you asking to see my cock, omega?” My tone is light, teasing, but the excitement in Ivy’s gaze speaks to the seriousness of her request.

“It only seems fair, alpha.”

I nod in concession. A fair point indeed, though I’m eager to hear her say the words. Some fiendish thing inside me wants her to writhe a bit longer before we give in to this rising heat between us.

“Ask me then. Tell me how best to display my supplication and it will be done.”

A ferociously precious frown forms upon her lips, her forehead creasing in mock displeasure. “For a supposed worshiper, you are quite demanding, I must admit,” she quips.

Another kiss to her palm as I bury a laugh against her skin. “I only wish to please you, my sweet fate. Tell me how.”

“Perhaps I don’t want to see it after all,” she huffs. Ivy turns her head, breaking our gaze to hide her embarrassment.

That won’t do.

Gently taking her chin between my fingers, I turn her focus back on me. “There’s no need to be shy. I’ll do anything you ask of me.”

Ivy shivers then, the motion accentuating the subtle sway of her full tits. I would do depraved, wicked things to get my mouth on them right this moment. Perhaps if I were to just?—

“Show me your cock, alpha,” she rasps, seeming surprised she managed to speak the filthy words aloud.

“As you wish.”

Slowly I ease myself from between her legs and off the mattress to stand at the edge of our bed. Ivy shuffles up onto her elbows, staring at me with rapt interest in my next move. If my mate wants a show, she will have one.

Reaching behind me, I grab the fabric at the nape of my neck to pull my shirt over my head. Ivy regards me, unblinking, and I love the manner in which her eyes caress my skin.

“More,” she whispers, nodding toward my trousers. “You said you would show me.”

“Patience, you little terror. It’s not going anywhere,” I gently chide, though the bravado is a farce. My hands shake ever so slightly as I reach for my ties.

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