Richard de Tristaine swirled the bitter wine around his mouth as he glared at the men gathered around his wife.

She looked stunning in a white, lace gown that clung to her curved form. Each movement tempted his eyes to wonder about the flesh hidden underneath. And his ring around her finger made her look that much sweeter. They were officially wed, and as he stood afar, watching all the hot-blooded males salivating after his wife in the Banquet Hall of their celebration, he felt violent.

Richard’s father was speaking with an Earl beside him, discussing something he had no ounce of interest in. It was clear the Emperor was trying to draw his attention back to the conversation, but he only watched Jovine. He saw her offering a polite smile to a young Lord who was so obviously enamored with her beauty as she thanked him with her mother and brothers at her side. He contemplated going up to the man to punch the shy smile off his face.

A gentle hand touched his unforgiving grip upon the stem of his glass. Just as he was about to wrench himself away from whoever it was that touched him, his mother’s amused voice stopped his impulse. “Keep staring like that and I’m afraid you’ll burn a hole through every man in this room.”

He took another sip, clenching his jaw when he saw Jovine evading the Lord’s touch with a hidden grimace. He knew she didn’t like to be touched by strangers. “I have no idea what you’retalking about, Mother,” he distantly mumbled.

The Empress turned her son’s face towards her. “I know it scares you to feel. But take a chance this time. She’s good for you.”

Of course she was good for him. Jovine was pure and kind and beautiful. But it couldn’t change his abhorrence to feel something like…love. He saw the way his parents loved each other and could even admit how much he cared for them himself, but since he was a young child, he held resentment for the vulnerability that came with the feeling. He could never explain why he was wired in such a twisted way, but he knew, without a doubt, that if he fell in love with his own wife, he’d be damned.

When he failed to respond to his mother’s remark, she looked towards his bride with a resigned sigh. “If it’s so repelling to need her, make her need you as well. Maybe then you’ll realize the weight of your emotions.”

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Jovine fidgeted in the burning heat of her wedding chambers, pulling at a hanging thread on her silk robe. Standing in the middle of a room bathed in firelight, she waited for her husband.

The day had passed by in a blur. She was married to Richard now, and while the wedding and celebration felt faded and distant, the night she had been waiting for — and dreading — awakened her senses until she felt raw and exposed. Her mother and tutors had introduced her to the concept of consummation and what had to take place between a man and his wife on the night of their wedding. Erin had even snuck in a fairly improper book highlighting the acts taken between the sheets. Jovine cupped her flamed cheeks just thinking about the lewd things she had read.

The Crown Prince was a striking man. She had to be blind not to notice the way every lady in the room watched him with lust in their eyes. He was strong and powerful and gorgeous. And the kiss they had shared that one night under the stars…

She could still feel the foreign desire that had overtaken her. It raced through her veins like an addiction she didn’t know how to sate. He never kissed her again after that night. The soft brush of their lips upon the altar when they married was the only other time his lips met hers. If that one touch ignited her, what would the night bring?

Her troubling insecurity preyed on her endlessly. Richard had seemed displeased with something throughout the celebration. Even as he asked her for a dance, he looked impatient and cold. Would her husband find her desirable enough to take her? Jovine tightened her hold on the small box in her hands. If he held back his kisses because he didn’t want her —

The creaking door startled her out of her thoughts. Swiveling her head around, she saw her husband closing the door behind him with a guarded look on his face.

She swallowed.

As his eyes traveled down her robed body, his nostrils flared but he stayed silent.

“Your Highness,” she greeted, willing her nerves to calm.

“Richard,” he corrected, walking deeper into the room. “Call me by my name.”

Her breath caught as he walked closer, but instead of stopping before her, he passed her and went to a nearby dresser. “Richard,” she murmured to herself, tasting the name on her lips. There was a dark tension in the room with them, and for the life of her, she could not figure out where her husband stood. Was he unhappy with her? Was he nervous? Why wasn’t he looking at her?

With his back turned, Richard started unclasping the buckles holding his uniformed suit. “Many eyes were on you tonight,” he continued in a deceptively calm tone.

She tilted her head in confusion. It was their wedding day. Many eyes were on the both of them. But for some reason, it didn’t seem like he was speaking of that kind of attention. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

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Richard finally turned to her as he slipped out of his suit jacket. “Every man in the room was looking at my wife.”

She knitted her eyebrows. Was he…jealous?

The heavy coat dropped to the floor with a thud and he slowly walked over to her with a dangerous look engraved in his dark blue eyes. He was a predator, stalking her with venom in his eyes.

“It drove me crazy all night,” he uttered under his breath, running his hands up her arms. They settled around her neck as he leaned in close. “You drive me crazy.”

“I could say the same about you,” she whispered, clutching the box in her hands like a lifeline.

Richard turned his face away, but from the frame of his mouth, she could tell he was holding back a smile. A spark of hope lighted in her fluttering heart. When he turned back to her with his lips pressed together, his eyes caught on the crumpled black parcel she was gripping. He flicked curious eyes up at her. “What’s this?”

Jovine released a shaky breath, looking down at the humble gift she had prepared for him. It had taken her many sleepless nights to finish it, the ache in her fingers and exhaustion in her eyes accounting for the effort that went into her token of love. “It’s not much,” she started timidly, worried he wouldn’t care for something so trivial. “But it’s for you.” She extended it towards him with a blush painted across her face.

Richard gently took the box in his hands and opened it to find a neatly embroidered handkerchief. Wordlessly taking it out, he examined the dark blue cloth and the intricate yellow threads expertly woven around the edges. His lips parted.

“The blue fabric reminded me of your eyes, and the yellow roses…” Her voice trailed off.

Those cold eyes of his softened as he ran his fingers across the flowers. “The Hill on the Summer Palace,” Richard softly muttered, looking up at her with the first real smile she saw from him that night. “The day I proposed.”

“Yes,” she breathed, completely enchanted by the affection on his face as he remembered the day. “Do you…like it?”

Richard surged into her, taking her face into his hands and pressing a hard kiss against her mouth. He pecked her all over the face, making her giggle from his enthusiasm. “I love it,” he whispered between each kiss, nuzzling his nose against hers. “Thank you.”

Jovine wrapped her arms around his shoulders, finally breathing easy. Richard tucked the cloth into his pockets and ran his hands over her waist, making her shudder when they traveled lower upon her rear. “You dangerous woman,” he muttered under his breath. She’d heard him say that to her once before.

“You’re the dangerous one,” she whispered back, dragging her fingers through his hair.

Her husband chuckled darkly, pressing into her. When she felt his arousal, her eyes widened. “Tonight, yes. I plan on being very dangerous,” he purred into her ear.

The sweet moment evaporated into one that heated her stomach and caused her breaths to escape in heavier rhythms. Her nerves returned with a vengeance as Richard walked her backwards towards the large bed in the center of the room. When her thighs bumped against the edge, Richard leaned back, looking down at her with glazed eyes. He slowly untied her robe until a sheer nightgown was revealed. She heard him suck in a sharp breath. A rush of satisfaction warmed her insides at the sound. She had picked it out, thinking of this very moment.

Held by thin straps, black lace cupped her breasts and a transparent fabric flowed down over her naked body. It showed the shadows of her curves and from the way her husband’s eyes raked over her with a look of pure hunger, it did exactly what it meant to. It teased him shamelessly.

As Richard traced the shape of her body with his hands, Jovine sought the courage to bring her fingers to the buttons of his vest. Nervously unfastening each one, she wasn’t sure if her lungs were taking in any air. When her hands trembled too harshly to do the same for his shirt, Richard grasped her fingers.

“Let me,” he gently whispered. Taking over, he deftly unbuttoned his tunic and threw it across the room. Jovine’s lips parted as she watched his chiseled, golden body flex under the flickering candlelight. Richard was always a large man with his towering height and broad shoulders, but seeing the glory of his bare skin with every indentation of hard muscle had her licking her lips in wonder.

“If you keep looking at me like that, I might just take a bite out of you,” he warned, crowding into her.

Was it wrong that she didn’t hate the idea? Richard turned them around and seated himself on the edge of the bed. Pulling at her thighs, he guided her to straddle his hips. She held back a whimper when the friction of his pants rubbed against a very intimate part of her flesh.

She touched his hot skin and allowed herself to take her fill of his beautiful body. When her fingers ran across his abdomen, she felt him tense. Just as she reached the top of his pants, Jovine froze from sudden panic.

Richard lifted her chin. “Look at me. Just look at me, and I’ll lead you.”

She nodded, placing her hands on his chest instead. As they looked deep into each other’s eyes, intimacy bloomed into a connection she never thought was possible with the cold Prince. His eyes looked at her in gentle adoration as he moved a finger underneath the strap of her nightgown. She gasped when he dragged it down her shoulder. Richard smiled at her reaction.

He guided her hips with his other hand, moving her in rhythmic strokes above him. Pleasure sparked in her veins and lust fogged her mind. Feeling braver, Jovine unclasped the clip holding her nightgown together at the front. She felt him twitch as the fabric parted, exposing her breasts and the extent of her bare body.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed, his large hand fondling her flesh. “So beautiful it hurts to look at you sometimes.”

As he kissed her most intimate parts and discarded every piece of clothing separating them, the night bled into a dance of passion and ecstasy. When they were finally joined and moving against each other in furious tempo, there were times when he held back. He would curse to himself as he tried to restrain his urge to ravish her body. But each time, Jovine kissed him harder, urged him further, and moaned into his mouth as he took her without abandon.

And as their consummation was completed in the dead of night, he never stopped seeking her warmth. Their bodies were tangled in the sheets together as exhaustion found them, and when she woke again, he would enter her with a sly smile and kiss her deep into the early morning.

It was the start of their bliss and pleasure, and while it didn’t last forever, the promise of hope was sweet enough for a time where Jovine and Richard were happy and content.

If only it had last...

If only you didn’t betray me…

Where would we be now?

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