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10RoarkIt has been four days since I was with Elizabeth in the dungeon. One of the only reasons I dragged myself to the royal ball tonight was in hopes of seeing her. All around me, men and women mingle, laughing too hard at jokes that aren’t funny enough and drinking too much wine. Everyone is dressed to impress, and even I had my tailors touch up one of my nicer suits for tonight--a black jacket with gold trim and a coal gray undershirt. I normally don’t concern myself too much with how I look, but I knew Elizabeth would be here--not that I’d admit this, even under torture, but I want to look good for her.
I still marvel at how sated the darkness within me is since our time together. In all my adult life, I haven’t gone this many days without some sort of violence to push it back, yet here I am after four days of nothing even close to violence, and all I feel is the growing lust for my Princess to be under my power again. This innocent woman from the outside may be the cure for my curse. I may be able to steal a taste of her here and there, but ultimately she’s out of reach. Centuries of tradition and an entire kingdom stand between Elizabeth and I, yet I’m not ready to give up on her yet.
She fascinates me in a way no woman ever has. Even though I could tell how badly she wanted to fuck me in the dungeon, she was prepared to resist me. I had to convince her that the promise made by her parents isn’t her promise. In a way, I feel guilty that I persuaded her into giving in to our desires, but I shouldn’t. I meant everything I said. As much as I appreciate her loyalty to honor what was promised, I know Titus will make her miserable.
A few weeks ago I might have thought the same of myself, but she brings something out of me. I’ve only felt the first hints of it because our time together has been so fleeting, but I think she could make me into something better, something more. I know one thing. I would never hurt her, at least not in any meaningful way. Any pain from my hand will be with the sole intention of making my Princess cum harder than she ever has before, I can’t say the same for my brother.
I smirk, feeling my cock stiffen at the idea of having her again. There’s so much I still want to do to her, but I suspect she’s a virgin. My brother and his people kept very close tabs on her throughout her life, and if she did have sex at some point, it would come as a great surprise to me. When she asked me not to penetrate her with the frozen cock the other night, my suspicion of her virginity grew. After all, what woman would want her first penetration to be with a frozen dildo?
“What has you so amused?” asks Dirk, who I didn’t even see moving to my side. He wears his Blade on proud display. The chrome of his weapon is polished to a mirror finish and his jacket carefully positioned behind the weapon to avoid concealing it.
My own Blade is concealed. As a Prince, I have no need to boast about my social status by flaunting my weapon. It’s not a symbol to me like it is to some. It’s just a weapon--one I hope to need less with Elizabeth in my life. “Nothing,” I say.
“If only nothing could amuse me so much, I would be a happy man,” muses Dirk.
I glare at him. “Why is it that you talk to me like your equal?”
“You’ve never told me not to. Would you like me to bow and scrape for you, My Prince?”
“No,” I say sourly. “I just think you’re an asshole.”
“That’s why we get along so well. You’re an even bigger prick than I am.”
“I may have a bigger prick, but that doesn’t make me one.”
Dirk sputters his wine, grinning. “I didn’t realize you were taking measurements in the bath houses. I would’ve made sure I came aroused.”
I want to be annoyed with him, but can’t manage, so I crack a smile. “You didn’t know I was measuring? I’d think you would’ve noticed the magnifying glass.”
Dirk barks a laugh. “Now you know I don’t treat you like anyone else, because you’re the only man I’d let get away with that joke.”
“Speaking of tiny pricks, have you seen my brother?” I ask.
Dirk gestures with his wine glass toward the far end of the ballroom. Titus stands in a large group of mostly women who are laughing at some story he’s telling. I spot Elizabeth among them, looking absolutely breathtaking in a sea-green gown that has a neckline leaving little to the imagination. Knowing she’s used to more conservative clothing makes the dress even sexier somehow. I’d wager no man has ever laid eyes on those heavy tits of hers, and call me barbaric, but I’ve always been drawn to the idea of exploring the unexplored. I suddenly regret not having her remove her bra for me back in the dungeon. I was so busy admiring everything else, I forgot I might never get a chance to take her again. If I have to die without having seen those tits… fuck.
