Page 50 of The Madman and his broken Princess
I turned toward the guests. “Enjoy the festivities. Food and drinks will be served in the gardens. We accept your congratulations and take our leave now.”
Amelia gave me a stunned look. I had no intention to celebrate with these people, not even with Niccolo. I wanted to be with Amelia. I had longed for this moment for years. False pleasantries with people I didn’t care about wouldn’t keep me from making Amelia mine. “There will be plenty of pit fights for your entertainment tonight.”
Tugging Amelia along, I stepped up toward the cage that held Lamorgese. He was pressed into a corner, staring down at his feet.
“Tonight, I’ll claim a Lamorgese. I’ll lick every crevice of her beautiful body until she worships my tongue like a deity, Achille.” Amelia stiffened by my side, but I kept my attention on her father. Revulsion filled his face, but he didn’t dare meet my gaze. He cowered at my feet like the dirty rat he was.
I turned my back on the cage and peered down at Amelia, who watched me with a horrified expression.
My fingers tightened around her smaller hand and tugged her down the rose pathway, past clapping guests. Amelia followed because I didn’t give her a choice, but I could feel the waves of confusion and trepidation rolling off her. We walked through the hallways of my home in silence. The only sound was the fast pounding of my pulse and theclick-clackof Amelia’s heels on the marble flooring.
When we stepped into the bedroom of our primary suite, and I closed the door behind us, I found myself at a moment of uncertainty. Part of me craved to cause Amelia pain for what she’d put me through. The other part wanted to appreciate her in the way I’d envisioned before she’d run.
Amelia turned to me, her eyes full of fear. Fear of what I’d do to her.
It made me feel powerful even though I knew Amelia held far more control over me. I gripped her neck and tilted her head back so her mouth was in the perfect position for me to ravage. When my tongue plunged past her lips, tasting her sweetness, my body sprang to life. Amelia had always made me feel alive, but today, she also made me burn with a passion I had never encountered. I pressed into her as my fingers on her neck kept her in place, then deepened the kiss, wanting to consume her, to show her how much I craved her.
Amelia leaned into the kiss. She didn’t fight me, didn’t push me away as I’d expected. I ripped my lips away from her. I wanted to stay in control of her, of myself. I pulled my sickle-shaped knife and hooked it in the collar of her dress, then jerked it down. Amelia cried out in shock. Pearls and gems spilled onto the floor. The blade slid all the way to the hem of the skirt, and I followed its brutal descent until I knelt on the floor and the blade slammed against the wooden floor, getting stuck.I released the knife and left it sticking in the floor. The dress slipped off Amelia’s body, leaving her in see-through panties. My gaze drank her in. Her lean legs, the beautiful valley between her thighs, the dark triangle beneath the rose laced into the sheer fabric of her panties, her soft belly, narrow hips, and those perfect, round breasts.
I wore a crown like a king, ruled over my men like a king, and I decided over life and death like a king, but kneeling at Amelia’s feet, I felt like a peasant about to worship. How could anyone be this beautiful?
Amelia flushed, embarrassment staining her cheeks rosy. The rosy hue spread down her throat and breasts. Those pink nipples teased me.
“I want to punish you,” I said in a raw voice, then shoved up to my feet and snatched up one of those small nipples between my lips. I sucked the soft peak into my mouth, then lavished the hardening pebble with my tongue before I murmured, “I want to worship you, too. What am I supposed to do with you?”
She touched my neck, her fingers gently gliding into my hair, making me want to purr. God, her touch was like a balm. I sucked her nipple sharply, wanting to be the one who determined the course of this night. “Worship me,” she whispered.
I chuckled darkly against her nipple and nipped at it, making her gasp before I soothed it with my tongue. “I’m not sure you are deserving of worship.”
I wanted to lose myself in her, wanted to lose control. I wanted to claim her every first, wanted to take pleasure and serve revenge. I wanted her tears, her begging, her fear. I wanted to destroy her because she nearly destroyed me, but as I peered up into her face, I realized she still held the power for devastation in her hands.
Nestore’s breath was hot against my chest. His teeth grazed my sensitive nipple in a warning, a promise? Even my body wasn’t sure, torn between arousal and panic. “Why did you pick roses from the maze for my bouquet?”
His gaze lowered to the flowers I’d dropped on the floor. “Because they are beautiful and fragile-looking but can pierce you with their thorns like you, and to honor the memory of my mother.”
“Oh,” I whispered, touched by his thoughtfulness. If he tried to honor his mother like this, my Nestore must still be in him. “That’s very sweet of you.”
Straightening to his full height, he scoffed and took my chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Amelia, don’t be foolish enough to think of me as sweet. You’ll start to hope when there’s none.”
I gritted my teeth. Cruelty followed every glimpse of kindness. It was as if two hearts beat in his chest. He bowed his head, and his teeth grazed my nipple again, sending a surprising spike of lust through me. At the same time, I worried if this was only a taste of the pain Nestore had planned for me. His lipscupped my breast and sucked. Every tug sent shivers through my body. Heat gathered between my thighs. Soon, I was panting softly, my fingers in his hair tense with need. He released my nipple and sank to his knees. It was an astonishing sight. Nestore, dressed in fur and bone, was kneeling at my feet and looking up at me in a mix of admiration and rage.
“I’ll make you scream tonight,” he promised with a smile that almost reached his eyes.
Nestore was achingly beautiful. A cruel, dark prince who only smiled when he could break his broken princess.
I nodded. “I expect you to.”
Nestore shook his head, then lowered his gaze to the apex of my thighs. “You are mine, Amelia.” He reached out and brushed his thumb over the spot where my panties outlined my folds. He traced the rose petals, making me tingle. I shivered at the gentleness of the touch. Nestore’s lips parted as he stroked his thumb up and down the crease. The red of the lace rose darkened with hints of arousal as he teased me with gentle fingers. Tingles spread from my button to my core. He closed his eyes and released a low breath, looking almost in pain. He didn’t open his eyes as he leaned forward.
“You taste like light…” he murmured as his lips brushed the soft skin over my hip bone. I held my breath. “Like all the summers I lost.” His tongue traced the edge of my panties. “Like the promise of a future I gave up on.”
I touched his crown. “Nestore.”
He pressed his nose against the lace rose and inhaled deeply. My cheeks became hot.
“Sweet, but with a hint of something headier,” he rasped.
“Nestore.”
