Page 21 of Her Royal Master
I traced the red weal I’d left with my fingertip.“That’s what they say,” I said lightly, the shadow of every paparazzi story written about my wicked ways crowding around me.It had been my self-ordained job from the beginning to draw the media attention away from the rest of the royal family.Away from my father’s suicide, which had been labeled as a hunting accident, away from the Queen’s lovers, and now away from Kaspar’s exploits.
I’d created a persona that gave the world something to gossip about.Sordid stories about the cruel and wild young duke.Some of them were even true.I’d let my reputation snowball into something huge and vivid.And they loved to hate me.Hated to love me.Everyone still wanted me.My notoriety made me even more popular.They called me a drunk, a womanizer, a violent, misguided trouble-maker.Women still threw themselves at my feet, wanting to be used and abused by me.
Chelsea was different.She’d known the gossip but still had seen me.At least I thought she had.She was a smart girl; it shouldn’t have shaken me when she recognized the truth about Madison, but it had.
I liked being with her.In my room, it had just been her and me.I didn’t have to put on a show.She’d let me strip her layers.
Funny that it surprised me when she wanted to do the same to me.
“I will begin.Who do you work for?”
Her body tensed, bottom squeezed together as if already deflecting the whipping I’d give her for not answering.“Pass,” she said stiffly.
“Three strokes.”I walked to my toy box and pulled out lube and a butt plug.
“Is it my turn?”she asked, breaking the charged silence between us.
“Yes.”
“Was Madison your BDSM partner?”
Pain stabbed me at the mention of the girl who’d committed the ultimate betrayal.“Yes.”I pulled her cheeks apart and dribbled lube on her anus.
She tightened against me.“What are you doing?”Her voice quavered.
I knew I’d lost some trust at this point, but was willing to be a dick for the time being.“I’m going to plug your ass, princess.It will help remind you that you belong to me, whether you tell me your secrets or not.I own you for the duration of this trip.”I pressed the rounded tip of the plug against her anus and circled it with pressure until her sphincter muscles relaxed and allowed entry.
“Ow… no.”She whined and moaned when I pressed the plug steadily inward, the widest part of it stretching her beyond her comfort level.“Ung.”
“There.It’s in.”Because she looked so beautiful with her arms bound behind her back, her legs spread wide, plug shining between her cheeks, I rewarded her with a light tap over her clit.
A shiver ran through her.
“Have you ever been betrayed by a lover, Chelsea?”
She hesitated.“Not like you.But in a way.”
I didn’t realize how much I desired every piece of knowledge I could get about Chelsea—her life, her past, her wants and desires.“Tell me,” I murmured, stroking her dewy slit again.
“I came to Ibiza… mmm”—she gave a soft moan of pleasure when I twiddled her clit—“to save a relationship.Turned out it wasn’t worth saving.”
My fingers curled into fists, teeth bared at hearing about some other relationship, even though it sounded like it was over.“What happened?”My voice sounded tight to my own ears.
“Turned out I was far less interesting to him than ecstasy and late night parties.”
“I’m sorry.”I wasn’t.Did it make me a terrible person?“You know it wasn’t about you, right?”
When she hesitated, I stopped fondling her folds.
“Right?”
“I think itwasmy fault.”
“How so?”
“I made a choice… not to follow him originally.I think I waited too long.I keep wondering if—”
“No.”I made my voice cold and hard, though the way my stomach roiled made me feel anything but sure.“It wasn’t about you.”I patted her pussy in a series of quick little spanks.“Do you wish you were still with him?”I held my breath, disturbed by the insistent thudding of my heart in my throat.
