Page 64 of The Dark Prince
“How do you know about the curse?” I asked. If Maddeus or Arne had told her, then I’d have to have words with them.
Isadora laughed. “It’s obvious, isn’t it? Though the whole ‘transform into a beast thing’ took me longer.”
I froze.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I insisted, panic pitching my voice higher than normal.
I fought to keep my expression flat, but my back slicked with sweat. How had she figured that out? How could she stand to be near me, knowing I had nearly killed her in the woods?
Isadora plopped down in my lap, unconcerned. “You can quit trying to play the whole brooding, tortured hero thing. I know your secrets. You might as well come clean so we can break the curse together, because I’mnotgiving you our first-born son. I plan to name him after you, even if it’s just his middle name.”
I gaped at her as she twisted in my lap to face me with fire in her eyes. So many thoughts and emotions raced through me, but there was only one I could latch onto.
“Our … son? You want to have a son with me?” I shut my mouth. I sounded like a simpleton, like a desperate, pathetic shell of a man, and not the Dark Prince who was Lord of the North, the bastard heir to the throne. I couldn’t help it. I’d always assumed that any wife I took would have to be dragged kicking and screaming to the marriage bed and that it would be simply a duty she fulfilled with her eyes closed and her teeth grit.
But this incredible, amazing woman wanted it; wanted me. Isadora fixed my hair with her hands, settling it this way and that. It was such a casual wife thing to do that my throat closed with emotion; I’d never had such casual touches granted to me. I didn’t deserve it.
“Foolish man,” she sniffed. “You’re my husband. Who am I supposed to have children with? Arne? Maddeus?”
I growled at the thought, wrapping my hands around her waist and bringing her closer to me. “I’ll rip it off of them before they could try,” I promised, and I realized I meant it.
Arousal and heat flushed her face instead of fear or horror. She liked my rough edges and perchance toward violence. More so than that, she imagined a future with me.
I didn’t deserve her compassion. I didn’t deserve her affection. I wasn’t stupid enough to think that she would ever love me, but the first two were more than I had ever expected since learning about my curse. If I let her in, I would only hurt her.
That was why I reluctantly pulled my hands back and gently pushed her out of my lap.
“No.” Isadora spat at me, glaring as her arms crossed over her chest. Sitting on my lap had hopelessly wrinkled her dress, but she didn’t seem to care.
“No, what?” I asked, bewildered.
She leaned back in toward me and I pulled away, sitting back as far as I could on the couch. Isadora laughed and stubbornly climbed back into my lap, wrapping her hands around my neck.
“If you knowsomuch,” I spat, “then you know how dangerous this is. How I’ll bring you nothing but pain and suffering. And if I don’t, the witch will be back. She will hunt you down for daring to strike her.”
Isadora hummed, nuzzling her face against my neck while rubbing her center against parts of me. “I’m counting on it,” she purred.
I groaned, unable to help the bolt of lust that shot straight into my groin. “Isadora, please …” I begged. My hands wrapped around her again of their own volition, pushing her down against my hips. My body was moving on its own, not giving a shit about what my brain was saying.
Isadora snaked her fingers through my hair, then with a sharp tug pushed my head back, baring my neck. My eyes widened at her aggression, and my traitorous hips rose to meet hers.
“Look me in my eyes and tell me no, if that’s what you truly want,” she quietly said, removing my mask quickly as though she’d been doing it for years instead of weeks. She dropped it, her lips ghosting over my throat.
My mouth was dry. I couldn’t tell her no, but I needed to. “Isadora—”
“Say no, and I’ll get up and go sit in another chair.” She kissed my neck as my hands bundled in her skirts, my hands disappearing under her dress to glide up and caress her smooth thighs.
This wasn’t fair.
“Isadora.”
Her hips ground down onto mine, her hands lightly stroking my face—my entire face—as her lips covered mine. She kissed me and I was helpless as I kissed her back. For a few blissful moments, I knew heaven on earth as I held and kissed my wife, fondling her soft skin as her hips bore down on my hard cock.
Then the beast reared its ugly head inside of me. A large tremor wracked my body as it tried to break free. It wanted to claim her as his.
“No!” I cried out.
I pushed it away, accidentally pushing Isadora backward at the same time. Her arms flailed as she tumbled unexpectedly, and I tried to catch her. My muscles seized with the effort to contain the change, so I missed.
