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His throat clogged at the last words, and suddenly all he could see again was Georgie.
Young, happy, shining—-
But because of him, her life had been cut short—-
“I’m who I am now because of her,” he said rawly.
The Prince of Darkness, saving everyone he could save, because he couldn’t do the same for those who really mattered to him.
“But if I had the power to change things – she’s the one who deserves to live, not me—-”
“Stop.” Small, soft hands claimed his cheeks, cupping his face. “I’m sorry.” And as tears ran down her own cheeks, she pinched his face.
“So you won’t cry.”
“I’m not the one who’s crying,” he pointed out unevenly.
“S-shut up.” She pinched his cheeks harder.
“Idiot.”
“J-just like you.” Her fingers uncurled. “Because you don’t seem to get it. G-Georgie wanted you to be the Prince of Darkness, but she didn’t want you to be just the prince—-”
More sobs threatened to crawl out of her throat, but she forced them down because she still had the most important thing to say.
“She loved you, remember?”
“Like I told you, she was an idiot.” But when the prince started to shake his head, Fawn’s hands slammed against his cheeks to keep it still.
“N-no! You’re the idiot. She loved you, prince. Georgie loved you. And because she loved you, surely you see? She can only be happy if you’re happy, too.”
Her hands fell away.
“So be happy, prince. Stop blaming yourself. Stop trying to make up for everything. Stop acting like your life is of so l-little value just because you’re the Prince of Darkness.” Her voice caught. “Because Georgie thinks…because I think…your life is indispensable because you’re the Prince of Darkness.”
Ah.
“My turn.” The prince pinched her cheeks. “I’m ordering you to stay an idiot. Okay?”
She laughed and cried, but she also yelped in pain when the prince pinched her cheeks harder.
“Stay. An. Idiot. Because if you don’t—-” The prince’s hands left her cheeks, and he suddenly hauled her close to him. “I won’t be able to fuck you anymore.”
Fawn gaped. “You’re only attracted to idiots?”
Yes, if idiots were as sweet and as naïve as her.
But he would rather die than let her know that.
“Enough talking.” And he made sure it was so by lowering his head to catch one nipple in his mouth.
“Prince—-aah!” Fawn couldn’t help moaning the last word out as he began sucking on her breast.
Oh God, oh God.
Just like that, and desire turned her world upside down, and she found herself clutching his hair as the prince sucked harder on her breasts. “P-prince—-”
The prince’s head lifted, and when their eyes clashed, he muttered savagely, “You talk too much.” He bent his head down again, and he started sucking on her other nipple. At the same time, his fingers found her pussy underwater once more, and she buckled against his body with a moan.
Need conquered her body as the prince shoved one finger into her.
“Prince!”
Two fingers—-
Three fingers—-
Her grip on his head tightened as her hips began to move on its own volition, meeting the wonderfully hard thrusts of his fingers.
“Priiiiiiince—-”
And then the prince was fisting her.
She began to sob.
His hand went in and out of her, harder, faster, and her body tightened and tightened.
More sobs tore out of her throat as desire threatened to rise and eclipse her mind.
The prince’s teeth closed over her nipple, and he bit the pouting tip hard.
Fawn buckled one last time in his hold, and then she was coming with a cry, her orgasm flowing out of nowhere.
Creamy moisture gushed out of her, making her Fawn shake with her release, and at that moment she couldn’t even remember why she was hurting over Grant. Right now, all she could remember was his name.
Prince.
Prince.
Prince.
****
The prince didn’t join Fawn for breakfast.
And that’s totally fine, she told herself doggedly. Sure, the cereal pouring down her throat tasted more like liquefied weeds, but that was more like a delayed reaction to Grant’s cheating. It had nothing to do at all with the prince.
Nothing.
And yet—-
It was only when she saw teardrops falling into her cereal bowl that she realized she was crying.
Oh God, what was happening?
She no longer knew how she should feel, no longer knew where to go, or who was crying for.
Grant? The prince? Or herself?
Grant had cheated on her first, but did that make what she was doing now any less wrong?
****
“Come in,” the prince said when he heard the knock on the door.
Igor opened the door but remained by the doorway. “You’re needed in the dining room, sir.”
Ah.
He pushed his chair back. “I told Fawn I’m busy.”
“She’s crying, sir.”
The prince only nodded. “You may leave.”
Igor wanted to say more, but the grim look on the prince’s face told him he would be overstepping, and he reluctantly turned away.
When the door closed behind Igor, the prince stood up and faced the window, his jaw clenching.
