“Mags,” Caspian hissed.
I ignored him.
Imogen Morningstar belonged to me. And it was time to tell assholes like Chester Bught to keep his fucking eyes off what was mine.
“Enjoying yourself?”
Chester whirled at the sound of my voice right behind him. He stumbled a little, glancing up at me since I towered above him.
“What?”
Jesus this guy was less princely than me.
“I asked if you were enjoying yourself.”
He stammered. “Oh, uh, yes. Prince Magnus, isn’t it?”
“It is.”
He smiled, like we were chums.
“Wonderful ball isn’t it?”
I didn’t say a word, I just glared at him.
“And princess Imogen is just lovely isn’t she—”
“Walk away.”
He frowned, his stupid face looking confused.
“Pardon me?”
“Walk. Away,” I growled, stepping right into his face.
“Prince Magnus, I’m not sure what you—”
“Princess Imogen and I are engaged,” I said flatly.
He blinked. “Wait, what?”
“We’re engaged,” I bullshitted again. “So I would appreciate it if you kept your fucking eyes off of her.”
He paled, shaking as I growled down into his face.
“Oh, I’m— yes, of course, Magnus. I had no idea! Well congratula—”
“I’d like you to leave the party.”
He frowned. “Pardon me?”
“You’ve offended me. Get the fuck out.”
He stared at me again like I was crazy. I took step towards him, flashing my teeth, and the guy turned and scooted away.
I wanted to grin, but I kept my hard face on until I saw him and his people heading for the exit. Then I grinned, before whirling and scanning the room
Now, to find my princess…
Chapter 5
Imogen
I smoothed my dress down in the floor to ceiling mirror in the lavish bathroom, glancing over my reflection. Our own quarters were much more modern, but the amenities around this level of the castle, near the ballroom and in the areas where tours came through, were gilded as if we were still in the 18th century. Italian marble floors and counters, intricately tiled walls, gold finish on the hardware, lit by flickering candelabras.
I shook as I smoothed the dress, thinking of him — of his hands on me. Of his voice in my ear. The smell of him The thoughts he made me feel inside.
God, I’d been thinking horrible, wicked thoughts of him since that day in the hotel room. I hadn’t stopped thinking about him, or his — well, his cock since that night.
The thought made me blush.
And it hadn’t just been thinking. In the darkness of my room late at night, more than a few times over the last month, I’d let go as the thoughts of that moment came back to me. I’d let my legs open under my sheets. I’d let my fingers explore. I’d let a thumb brush my clit, a finger slip inside my slick pussy as I’d thought about Magnus and his enormous cock.
He was so gross, and so crude, and so wrong. And yet, I couldn’t stop thinking about him, or fantasizing about him and his enormous tool. It was like he’d hooked me with a spell, and I couldn’t break free. I couldn’t close my eyes without thinking of his perfect body stretched out on my hotel room bed, which of course, made me horribly and terribly wet.
Every time.
Yes, his reputation was nose-wrinkling, but there was also something about it that was so damn tempting and alluring.
…A man like that knew what he was doing. A man like that knew what he wanted and knew exactly how to treat a girl — even one like me who’d never done anything but a quick peck on the cheek.
Ridiculous, right? I mean I was twenty years old for crying out loud.
My cheeks grew pink in the bathroom mirror as I imagined the other scenario I’d thought of. The one where I didn’t run from that hotel room like a total freak, and instead, been bold. The daydream where I’d been wild instead.
Instead, I imagined what would have happened if I’d just gone to him, and let him tear the bikini from my body and ravish me anyway he chose to.
The size of him scared me, but it also got my blood pumping hot like liquid fire. I couldn’t even imagine how something like that fit inside something as small and as tight as my untouched pussy, but damn had I spent the last few weeks trying to imagine it.
I shook my head. This was silly, and gross. I needed to get back to the ball, go talk to Chester and—
The door swung open, and I gasped as I whirled.
“You can’t be in here!”
I backed away from him, my back to the mirror. Magnus smiled hungrily at me as he stepped inside, closing the door behind him.
“But I am in here,” he shrugged. “Bad logic.”
“No I mean—” I scowled at him, hoping it hid the desire in my face. “You know what I mean, you’re not allowed in here.”
“Sweetheart,” he growled stepping closer to me. My breath caught as he turned and locked the door behind him.