Blood-red fills my eyes as I drink in the sight of her.Shewears the dress, not the other way around. Serenely, she sits, buckling the straps of her matching red heels. Her long black hair falls over her shoulder like a sheet on a bed, begging me to dive into it so I can unwind and relax.
I somehow convinced her to help me. Maybe I can sleep now.
I wonder what it would be like to have her silken hair draping over me?
Stop! Now!Turning, I put some distance between us and cough.
Everett thought you could be a king; he said nothing about fucking the queen.
But… I can’t stop thinking about Selene naked, covered in my shadow as I hover over her. She looks good in dark colors. And her lips—they would be parted as I slide—stop!
I run my hand down my face. If Everett’s magic doesn’t kill me, images of Selene will.
“What do we do?” I whisper. My thoughts resemble a teenager.
“Well…” Selene stands. Her dress whooshes, sliding down her body, clinging to all her curves. “My initial plan is now useless.” Kicking a foot out from her dress, she rolls her ankle, then glares at her shoes.
They’re hurting her. I want to slide them off her feet.
“No more plotting my death?” I smirk in relief.
“Oh, there will be plenty of plotting.” Facing the mirror, she assesses her reflection.
Gods, she is perfect, but her furrowed brow tells me she isn’t happy.
It’s so fucked up to be blessed with such beauty but think you’re less. They should cast out whoever raised her.
She looks down and adjusts the draping of her dress. It’s not as tight as the gown she wore to the feast, but it’s no less attractive.
“I had formulated a plan when you first entered my room.” Her hands slip under the neckline. My eyes widen. She shoves her breasts closer together, making sure her cleavage is mouthwatering.
She rolls her eyes when she notices me staring at her. “What?”
“N… nothing.”Look down! Now!
“If men can adjust their balls out in the open, like feral beasts infested with fleas, a woman can adjust her bosom. Plus, Galen is a breast man. I want him to suffer.” She glances down and smirks at how full they appear.
“Noted,” I wheeze as I look away.
What were we talking about?
“Do I even want to know what your plans were?”I ask in a strained voice. Adjusting my cock sounds like a good idea right now.
How heavy do her breasts feel in her hands?
I scratch my palm. My hands are so calloused, I doubt I could recognize smoothness.
“It involved Galen losing his crown, then his head. Your death was thrown into the mix, but oh, the images of Galen losing the faith of his people. It would have been marvelous.”
“You conjured up how to dethrone a king within a minute?”
“Yes.” She smoothes out the wrinkles.
“You talk about killing kings as if we’re picking out new paint colors.”
Her eyes slide to me.What’s she thinking?“Some colors don’t deserve to grace the walls, Titus.”
True, yet… vicious as fuck. That’s how she got far in life.
