“Gods,” Griff mumbled at the same time Violet gasped.
Lydia raised a perfectly shaped brow at Violet. “You’re not going to sleep with him?”
Violet hung the lace shirt in her closet and fell back on her bed with a groan. “I don’t know. Maybe?” She raised her head to look at her friends. “I kind of want to get it out of the way, and we’ve been dating for a little over a month now.” More like she wanted to feel the same ecstasy as the performers at the pleasure house.
“I bet he’s experienced,” Lydia offered.
“I’m experienced,” Griff added, raising his hand.
“No, you’re not,” Slayton shot back as Lydia and Violet said in unison, “Shut up.”
* * *
The gruesome training Roman took on after graduation boasted longer, more intense drills that took up most of his time. Their training started before sunrise, and while most warriors finished by midday, those of higher rank trained all day.
Next week they’d meet with another battalion in the kingdom for a sparring tournament, and as a royal and the future king, everyone expected Roman to win. If he didn’t, the generals would work him harder.
Ares had sparred with him all morning in preparation, and they were both covered in dirt and sweat. Miserable.
Ares shrugged out of his leather top. “Damn, it’s hot today.” Fighting in leathers felt like dying a slow death, even in the shade.
Roman spit on the ground to expel the dirt from his mouth. “At least it’s not raining.” It rained often in the Tropical Kingdom, and while the rain cooled them down, it made the air thicker and the ground a mud pit.
They approached their training group and saw Dominic, another warrior their age, talking to a few guys who listened intently, enraptured by whatever he said.
“Her virgin pussy was the tightest I’ve ever felt,” Dom told the others, and Ares’ lip curled with disgust. “And the sounds she made…” He groaned. “One of the best fucks I’ve had.”
Everything around Roman faded away, and nothing existed but the prick in front of him. Dominic spent a lot of time with Violet, and if he meant her, Roman didn’t know what he’d do.
“I knew it,” another warrior said. “Maybe she’ll give me a ride next.”
Dominic shoved the guy. “Violet’s my girl.”
White hot anger seared across Roman’s vision. Dominic continued to speak, but it faded into background noise. Roman had a vague awareness of Ares grabbing his arm and saying something, but his friend’s attempts to calm him were useless.
Roman crossed the distance between him and Dominic in seconds, wrenched the man’s head back by his hair, and slammed him to the ground.
His fists rained down on the man’s face repeatedly, hot liquid splattering in every direction. He didn’t know how many men it took to pull him off, but by the time they had, the piece of shit lay unconscious on the ground.
Ares grabbed the sides of Roman’s blood-speckled face and shook him. “Calm down before you kill someone.”
His words brought Roman back from the brink of insanity, and he heard Vivian yelling his name. She sprinted across the arena with a worried expression and gaped at Dominic’s unmoving form on the ground.
Roman hoped the fucker died.
“What in the hell happened?” she demanded. “I thought my chest caught on fire.”
“Dominic was bragging about having sex with your sister,” Ares explained, and Vivian’s face reddened as her anger rose. “Then Dominic said he wished he’d fucked you too, when he had the chance, and Roman lost it.”
Vivian looked almost gleeful before morphing her demeanor into one of fictitious concern. Roman felt her pleasure snaking around his own fury, and it disgusted him. “They’re just words, Rome. I wouldn’t let him touch me. You know that.”
Ironic, seeing as she’d fucked another guy for years, not that he gave a shit. Roman cursed himself, knowing a future king must keep his emotions in check, but it seemed an impossibility with anything concerning Violet. He would’ve killed the man had the others not pulled him off.
He’d let them believe the man’s words about Vivian set him off, but in truth, he hadn’t heard Dominic mention her at all.
* * *
Griff jogged toward Violet and Slayton from the direction of the palace grounds, still in his leathers. Slayton and Violet were supposed to meet him later for dinner. He shouldn’t have been out yet.
