“Merrick,” she whispers my name, and I nearly fall apart. Her teeth rake across her lower lip, gaze sliding over the table set for two, then over to me.
“Come.” I take the few steps to close the space between us, offering my hand. Valentina looks over her shoulder, a habit neither of us can seem to break. “No one is watching, I promise,” I try to reassure her.
Her hand is warm in my palm. Her skin subtle and soft.
“Okay...” She takes the final step into the sand. I hold her gaze as she slips from her shoes, then sighs as sand works between her toes. “This is... beautiful.”
“I had their chef cook us up some pastries, about a dozen different kinds. I wasn’t sure exactly what was your favorite.”
Guiding her to her seat, I drop her hand only to pull the chair out for her. Her skirt blows away from her legs again, and I’m enchanted by the pallor of her flesh. Even through the earthy scent of water, I still catch a whiff of warm vanilla.
“That’s not something my stepson should technically know.” Her response brings me hurtling back to reality.
“Yes.” I take to my seat and scoop up my glass. “It’s a shame that we were born into these lives and these roles.”
Her nails have been painted a red as fiery as her lips—a color King Melic would never allow. She must be taking full advantage of our time away from home. As she pinches the stem of her glass between her fingers, I can’t help but imagine her hands, red nails and all, wrapped around my cock. I swear, my dick twitches in answer.
“Technically, I was not born to this role but pulled into it.” Liquid sloshes in her drink as she lifts it in salute.
When Valentina was brought to the castle, married to my father, I hadn’t thought much of it. A king gets what a king wants. It has always been that simple. The older I got, the more I came to realize that every little thing you do can have a positive or negative impact on someone else. If you’re not mindful of your actions... you can ruin a lot more than your own life.
“Was that hard for you?” My glass chimes against hers before I bring it to my lips. The drink tastes like toasted marshmallows and burns in just the right way down my throat.
Her nose wrinkles. “No one has ever asked me that.”
“I’m asking.”
“It was... terrible.” Her eyes are unfocused as if she’s reliving some of the worst moments of her life.
“I’m sure it was fucking terrible.”
“Yes.”
One side of my lips lifts in half a smirk. All alone and she’s still as elegant and mannerly as ever.
“You can say it, you know. I won’t tell.”
She blinks. “Say what?”
“Fuck.”
Valentina’s lips pucker. Those manicured nails drum against the table. “That’s not very ladylike.”
“Oh, come on.” I lean back in my seat, plucking a jam-covered scone from the plate. I chuckle as a blush works its way over her cheeks. “Repeat after me... It was...”
“It was...” She teases a smile.
“Fuckingterrible.”
Her voice lowers, eyes locked on mine. “Fucking terrible.”
My smirk turns into a full-out grin. China rattles as Valentina’s hands hit the table, and she tips back with a sputtering laugh.
“Oh, my. Do you know how often I’ve wanted to say that?” A hand holds her chest. I swear I can hear her racing pulse. She tries to hide her smile, finally lifting a chocolate-covered strawberry from the dish between us.
I’m captivated, breath caught tightly in my chest, as she lifts it to her mouth, and her teeth sink into it. Her lips curve around the shape of the fruit, sending a fire right through me.
“You don’t have to do that, you know,” I tell her. She tilts a single brow. “Censor yourself. Not with me. So why don’t you tell me how fucking terrible it was? I want to learn more about you.”
