Page 4 of His Princess

Colt crossed his arms, and I realized he was mocking me, so I let mine flop to my sides.

“Nothing to say for yourself, Princess? My wife would doll up for me and drain my balls and run this house. I guess you probably couldn’t do all those things anyway, but I would settle for you bending over in a short dress on every piece of furniture.” He grabbed his dick, and I gasped.

Is he hard? Oh my God. How big is it? No, no, no, abort mission. We’re not going there.

“Come kiss me, Princess. Be good.” He bit his bottom lip, and it was disgusting. Not edible. Not at all.

For a few seconds, I blinked at him, then a vicious wave of anger swamped me as it registered that he’d tossed that lovely nickname at me again. “Yeah, sure, Mom cheated on you,” I snapped sarcastically. “Even if I did believe that, she’s out the door what? Three minutes, according to you—unless you’re a serial killer, which I’m not ruling out—and you’re asking me to do what? Let you fuck me?” I dragged in a deep breath and my head swam. I ran my hands nervously along my sides, and his brown eyes trailed my movements. He let out a small hungry sound and rubbed his dick. It stretched out along the left, and Holy Mother of Sluts, it was thick.

Mom, did you really step out on that weapon? Why? She never did appreciate anything she had. Shit, he probably wasn’t lying about her.

Colt cleared his throat, and when my attention snapped to his face again, he smirked. “Letting me breed you would be the minimum requirement. I asked you to be my wife. It entails more. Otherwise, you’re just a whore.” He grinned and carded his fingers through his thick, dark beard, which made me shiver.

I swallowed hard. Fuck, he was an animal, masculine in all the right ways. I’d never quite been sure if I was jealous of men like him or wanted to fuck them, but I hadn’t stopped to consider Colt in the past. He was Mom’s protection when I wasn’t around, kept her sane and out of trouble. More or less, he was her chosen dick, and I’d always made sure not to have any deep thoughts about her guys because she was a jealous woman. I knew in my heart she would notice me thirsting after something she considered hers.

And now she was out there somewhere. Gone. Fuck, I needed to find her.

“You realize I can’t be your wife anyway? I’m a man,” I snarked, grabbing my own crotch in a ridiculous imitation of what he was doing. I just felt silly and rolled my eyes. The little bit of friction surprised me, though, because my cock was plump, and I dropped it like it was on fire.

He raised an eyebrow. “That’s not what I see when I look at you.”

What a jerk! How do men like that always manage to look good while they’re being dicks? I glanced down at myself and a vicious humiliation strangled me and stole my breath. Yes, I was dressed brightly today. It didn’t happen quite as much with gay men, but straight men always, inevitably, commented on the fact that I was “pretty” or “girly” or “frail.” The end result was that they were saying I reminded them of someone soft, which always led them to think about women. Sometimes it made them uncomfortable. I usually laughed when this happened because what it really meant was they couldn’t handle the idea that they might want to fuck me.

I wasn’t laughing now, however.

“Decide,” Colt said, impatience oozing in his words.

“I’m thinking,” I mumbled.

“Wife’s prerogative,” he said with a smirk.

Pursing my lips, I shook my head.

When I was younger, I’d often been confused for a girl, and then I’d been bullied hellishly for it—on two continents, no less.

Growling, I pointed at him. “I’ve been called a twink more than once, but I’m all man. You can shove your weird misogynistic crap where the sun doesn’t shine. Wife. What the heck?” I blinked and wanted to slap myself because tears trembled on my eyelashes and I couldn’t do a thing about it. “Use my name. Quin.”

“Hmm, no, Princess, I’ll call you what I want. I’m the king of this castle. You talk more like a wife than your mother. She would’ve been screaming obscenities by now. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you swear.” The corner of his mouth twitched.

I froze as he skated his gaze down my body, a predator. He was a big bear of a man, and if he wanted, he could force me to do anything. I shivered and bit my lip as my dick began to take up too much room in my tight jeans. He was also a lot scary. With dark hair and eyes, he was the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome. He had a ton of tattoos. I’d never seen most of the ink I suspected he had, but the artwork peeked up from under the collar of his shirt and bled down to his hands. I’d once asked Mom if he’d made his money as a criminal, and she’d only laughed at me.

Maybe I should’ve investigated that further.

Was he dangerous?

I can’t stay here.

“Uh.” I laughed nervously and took a tiny step toward the door. “I swear. All the time. I swear a lot. That’s me, a swearing machine.”

His lips quirked as if he wanted to smile but didn’t.

I took a real step toward the door. What had Mom held back? What was I not understanding in my calculations about Colt?

“You know, if you really think I’m a serial killer, you should be terrified. What happens if I chase you and catch you?” He tipped his head back and stared at me down his nose. “I could bury you in the backyard. No one would know.”

My stomach churned. “Did you do that to Mom?” My voice slid into a high range, and his sinister smile grew. That asshole and his wife crap. It didn’t help that I was damned close to a countertenor.

He rolled his eyes. “What do you think?”

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