Page 19 of His Princess

I smiled. Derek often said I could be a sadistic fuck when I wanted to be, and he wasn’t wrong. Sometimes I enjoyed wreaking havoc, which made me a good partner when it came to all the illegal parts of Derek’s business—which was most of them.

I rolled my shoulders, stretching out the kinks, and stared at the door for a long moment. Should I give him a chance? Fuck no. I was going to drag him out of bed if I had to, and a little scare never hurt anyone.

I lowered my right shoulder and took a step back before I shoved forward, slamming my arm against the door. It rocked on its hinges and inside I heard a scream. I didn’t stop. I rammed the door again and again, and each time it wobbled a bit more.

“Oh my God. What are you doing?” Quin’s shrieking did nothing to stop me.

Finally, the wood splintered and cracked, and when I hit it for the tenth time, the door gave way and crashed open, leaving the knob to clatter against the floor.

Quin sat up in his bed, blankets pulled to his chest in fright, and he looked every bit the virgin—well, he was no longer a virgin, thanks to me—wife that he was playing. He was shirtless and his hair was a mess, strewn across his shoulders in a way that resembled a bird’s nest.

I tsked at him and straightened, ignoring the throbbing pain that sparked through my body at the force I’d used against the door. I stalked closer to his bed, ignoring his shock and the way he stared at me as though I was a monster. Good. In a lot of ways, Quin didn’t know who he was dealing with. He thought this was a joke, but I was going to prove to him it wasn’t. I wasn’t abusive, I would never lay a hand on him except to spank him, but I wasn’t messing around, either.

“Get up,” I snapped, grasping the blanket he held to his chest and yanking it away. “Why are you in here?”

“What?” His mouth popped open, and I missed the gloss on his lips that made them all shiny and sweet.

“Why. Are. You. In. Here?” I slapped my hands against the mattress beside his thigh and leaned my face close to his. “You’re my wife. You should be in my room. In my bed. Do you not remember the rules? I wanted to be woken up with your mouth on my cock, Wife.” My gaze slid down his neck, taking in the bruises littered across it. I smirked. I would have to add more later. There were too many young, horny men at college. They needed to know he was taken.

“I.... I didn’t know. I thought I would sleep here. It’s my room.” He glanced around his bed, as though it would offer him answers.

I snorted. “You don’t listen very well, do you?”

The shock morphed into anger and he narrowed his eyes at me. “I do so. Last night you left me hanging.”

I laughed and straightened, crossing my arms. “You’re my wife, Princess, not the other way around. It’s your job to satisfy me.”

“You’ve got some awful ideas about marriage, you know that?” He shook his head in disappointment. “This is why Mom left.”

“No, she left because she’s a whore who can’t stay with one man. She was either drunk, fucking my brother, or gambling away my money.” I didn’t know how much Quin knew about his mother, but I wasn’t going to pull punches. He needed to hear the truth about her, even if he wanted to bury his head in the sand. “Now, you will be a better wife than she ever was. That starts with waking up beside me and sucking my cock.”

He rolled his eyes. “This is ridiculous, Colt. Are you seriously into this?”

I smirked because I couldn’t help myself. “Are you kink shaming me, sweetie?”

“What? No!” His eyes widened, and I held back the urge to yell in triumph.

I’d heard Quin talking to his mother more than once about the college classes he was taking. Training to be a nurse meant he had to have an open mind and heart, and he’d told his mother all about the sexual education they’d been taught and how kink shaming was more than frowned upon as a nurse. There was no telling what situations he might run into, and he would have to be accepting of other people’s choices. He’d been so passionate about the topic that all I could do back then was roll my eyes.

“Sounds like you are,” I teased.

He sat up straighter in the bed and huffed. “This is stupid. I’m not your wife?—”

“You agreed to be.” I shrugged. “Now get out of bed and go make me breakfast.”

His eyes nearly bugged out of his head. “Are you kidding me? You know I can’t cook!”

“Then order it, I don’t care. I’m hungry.” I rocked forward. “I have to go to work today, and when I get home, I want to eat.”

He grunted and smacked his hands against the bed. “Whatever.”

“You.”

It took him a moment to connect the dots and he let out a harsh breath when he did.

I sat down on the edge of the mattress. My fingers tickled up his stomach, drawing imaginary lines over the soft belly and up his sinewy muscles. “I want to bend you over the table and eat your pussy for every meal, Wife. And when I’m done, I want to breed you nice and full of my cum, so we can try for that baby we always wanted.”

His gaze darkened and he sucked in a deep breath. His Adam’s apple bobbed, and he lowered his chin to his chest, watching as my finger circled his left nipple before I grabbed the nub and tugged. A hiss escaped his lips and his lashes fluttered. “I....”

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