Amelia’s trepidation made Rennick’s own multiply. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t worried about how the citizens of the fae kingdoms would receive her. Being his mate should extinguish all wariness, but if not, the marriage would, because if it didn’t, he would become the star of their nightmares.
He and his father theorized the fully accepted bond would strengthen her, possibly turn her back into a fae, but they couldn’t be sure.
He meant what he had said to her. If anyone disrespected her, or worse, tried to hurt her, they wouldn’t live to right their wrongs.
Rennick’s father never forgave himself for his wife’s death. He was there inside the hot house, speaking with the gardener, while she was outside tending to a rose bush she was determined to grow. The rebels had climbed the impossibly tall palace walls, and when they recognized Rennick’s mother, they’d gutted her before the guards could save her.
Rennick and his father tracked down the rebels who’d managed to escape over the course of several years, delivering the slow deaths they deserved.
Since then, his father had tall spikes added to the top of the palace walls, rendering it impossible to climb without being impaled, and more guards were stationed around the palace perimeter.
Rennick stopped Amelia at the foot of the stairs. “Do you want a late lunch?”
Her eyes darted to every person who passed. “I’m too nervous to eat.”
“Ren,” a familiar voice said, making him turn.
He squeezed Amelia’s hand and released it, shooting Ora a broad smile. “Hello, princess.”
Ora rolled her eyes with a teasing smile. “Don’t call me that.”
It was a nickname he and Finn gave her when they were teenagers because of her obsession with all things royalty, including the fashion. She adorned herself with jewels and headbands that resembled small tiaras.
Amelia moved back, putting too much distance between him and her for his liking, but he refrained from commenting on it. Ora didn’t know Rennick had retrieved his mate; no one save for a select few did, and he needed to keep it that way until they married.
He trusted Ora, but not enough to gamble Amelia’s life.
Ora’s blue eyes fell on Amelia, and her smile tightened. “I don’t believe we’ve met.” She reached out her hand and widened her smile. “I’m Ora.”
Amelia stepped around Rennick and shook the other woman’s hand. “Amelia.”
“What brings you to our palace?” Ora asked politely, folding her hands in front of her.
If Rennick was the type of man to roll his eyes, he would. She’d always called the palace hers since she was here daily with her father.
“She’s a friend,” he answered coolly, noticing Amelia’s hands clenched behind her back. A dark emotion that was not his own bloomed in his chest.
“A friend?” Ora eyed Amelia up and down. “You’ve never brought any of your friends to the palace before.”
He didn’t miss the insinuation in her tone, but he hadn’t the time or patience to deal with her now. “If you’ll excuse us, I need to show Amelia to her rooms.”
Without waiting for a reply, he held his arm out, indicating for his mate to climb the stairs.
Ora gave him an incredulous look that he countered with one warning her to choose her next words carefully. “I’ll see you at dinner tonight,” she said, glancing at Amelia before she bound down the stairs.
“Yes, we will see you then,” he replied, climbing the steps two at a time to catch up with his mate.
When he and Amelia crested the top of the staircase, that dark feeling was gone, and he wondered if he’d imagined it.
He led her up another set of stairs, and asked, “Did Ora make you uncomfortable?”
Amelia smoothed her skirts and looked straight ahead. “No. I’m nervous.”
He didn’t believe her, but he owed her his trust anyway. Accusing her of lying would do him no favors.
Once outside his—their—rooms, he opened the door and stood aside.
Amelia walked past him and surveyed the rooms with child-like wonder, leaving whatever worries she had in the hallway. “This is incredible,” she breathed, floating between the sitting room, bedroom, dressing room, and bathroom.
“Are these mine?”
“Ours,” he corrected.
She turned slowly. “Ours?”
He took measured steps toward her, clasping his hands behind his back to keep from touching her. “If you’d rather not share a bed, I will have another prepared for you.” Please stay.
She rubbed her chest mindlessly, deep in thought. Nervousness was not an emotion Rennick felt often, but his own overcame him now.
Her brows furrowed before she dropped her arm and moved her pretty eyes to his. “Is it safe?”
Every muscle in his body tensed. “You don’t feel safe with me?”
Her eyes flared. “I do, but you said no one knows who I am to you, and you told Ora I was a friend.” She motioned around her. “Staying in your rooms might raise red flags.”
“Only a select few of the staff are allowed in the royal rooms, and before we left, they were informed I would have a guest returning with me. They needn’t know anything else.”
“Okay.” Her smile was small but seemed genuine. “I’ll stay.”
Rennick couldn’t stop his own smile from spreading across his face. “I’ll show you where your things are.” With his hand on her lower back, he led her to their dressing room. “Would you like to take a bath before dinner?”
She sighed happily, like he’d offered her a mosquito net in the middle of the Tropical Kingdom. “Yes, please.”
He leaned down and kissed her lips, unable to go another second without her affections. “I’ll run your water.”
Amelia grabbed clean undergarments to put on after her bath and forcefully pushed down the jealousy trying to bubble to the surface since the damned bond would alert Rennick if she couldn’t get herself under control.
The way Ora sneered the word friend after he introduced them made Amelia feel like shit, and the way he’d called that vile woman princess made her feel worse. One thing she learned today was that Ora would be a problem, and if Amelia had to fight dirty for her mate, she would.
She didn’t doubt his loyalty now that they were together, but Ora seemed the type to sabotage their relationship any way she could.
Dismissing all thoughts of Ora, Amelia squared her shoulders, determined to seduce her mate today. She’d waited for years after stacks of letters. She would fuck him tonight if it was the last thing she did. What better time than in the bath? He’d run her water, and now he stood in the bathroom, waiting for her.
“Do you need help, love?” he called through the door.
With a steadying breath, she stepped into the bathroom with what she hoped was a seductive smile. “I’m ready.”
Rennick held his hand under the water, adjusted one of the knobs, and pointed to a ceramic tray holding various soaps. “This is for your face, body, and hair,” he said, tapping each bar. “I made them myself.”
He made them himself? She didn’t have time to dwell on the surprising information right now.
You can do this, she told herself, just ask him. If he said no, she would run away and start a new life somewhere warm. “Would you like to bathe with me?” She spoke fast, and the words ran together in the most unattractive way possible. Her nerves made no sense after last night, but meeting Ora had shaken her.
Rennick had been halfway through the door and halted mid-step. He turned and their eyes met, his darkening by the second. “More than anything.”
As he prowled across the room, he removed his shirt with quick, graceful movements. After toeing off his boots, he stood in front of her in nothing but his pants, and his large hand wasted no time trailing from her cheek to the top of her breasts. “Is this your favorite dress?”
She looked down at her clothes. “No?”
“Good,” he all but growled, grabbing the front with both hands and ripping it down the middle. He wet his lips and trailed his eyes over every inch of her exposed skin.
Only her red lacey breast band and matching underwear remained. She refused to squirm or hide herself, even though she wanted to after seeing Ora. Stop it.
He took the clean undergarments from her hands and tossed them aside, never removing his eyes from her body. Her dress fell effortlessly to the ground when he pushed it off her shoulders, and as he reached for her breast band, she stopped his hand.
Wetting her dry lips, she blew out a shaky breath. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I tried to learn with Gilpin, but we barely did anything.”
“Don’t bring his memory in here with us,” Rennick said darkly. “I don’t care what you did with him; I only care that you’re here, with me, letting me touch you.”
“No.” She squeezed his wrist lightly. “I need to tell you this.” His jaw tensed, but she pushed on. “I did things with him to get more experience. I didn’t know you would be able to tell the difference between that and what I did at night. You’d not written in months, and I wasn’t sure you’d ever come for me, but if you did, I wanted to be ready.” Silence filled the room as he stared at her with an indiscernible look. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t want to be inexperienced because you’re,” she waved her hand over his body, “you. I’m not blaming you for my decision.” She stopped and squared her shoulders. “But it wasn’t fair that I was expected to remain celibate while you were not.”
How had she gone from apologizing to chastising him? That wasn’t how apologies worked. It didn’t matter; she meant every word, because it wasn’t fair.
He recoiled. “You think I would touch another woman?”
What? All the blood drained from her body.
“I’m not upset with you,” he said, moving his hand to grab the side of her neck. “You had needs. If I said anything in my letters to make you believe I was bedding someone else, I’m sorry, but I have never touched another.”
Amelia blinked, too stunned to speak at first, then shook her head. “But the things you said, the things you did last night… how did you know how if you’ve never been with anyone?”
He released her neck and reached around to unclasp her breast band. “We have places where I could watch and learn.”
The thought of him watching other women made her ill, but she had no right to be.
“When I watched a man bury his face in a woman’s cunt, feasting until she screamed, I imagined how much sweeter your cries would be, and I watched closely to ensure I would hear them.”
His thumbs trailed lightly over her nipples, and goosebumps covered her entire body.
“As he bounced her on his dick, taking her breasts into his mouth, I imagined tugging your pert nipples between my teeth while your pussy choked my cock and covered it in cum.”
The water level reached the edge of the porcelain tub, and he leaned over to turn it off. Moving his attention back to her, he slid her underwear down her legs and helped her step out of them. Without breaking eye contact, he brought them to his mouth and licked the damp slip of the fabric. His mouth curled into a satisfied smirk. “Wet for me already, little mate?”
Fire couldn’t make her skin hotter than he did.
Rennick picked her up, lowered her into the warm water, and climbed in behind her. Liquid splashed over the sides of the tub, creating a small lake on the marble floor.
His hardness pressed against her lower back, and she leaned closer. Large, calloused hands ran slowly up her thighs and through her folds, eliciting a long moan from her.
He lightened his touch, skimming over her sensitive skin. The gentle brush of his fingers grazing past her opening and back to her clit made her hips move involuntarily.
She needed more.
He chuckled against her neck. “Open wider, love.”
She hooked her legs over his, offering herself to him, and two of his fingers pressed inside her, causing her hips to buck at the intrusion.
“Mmm,” he hummed against her skin. “You have a needy cunt, don’t you?”
His palm rubbed over her clit as he moved in and out, and when his other hand snaked up her stomach toward her breasts, she moaned, arching her back. Water sloshed against them like a rising tide, but she didn’t care.
“Fuck,” Rennick said, nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck. “I will bury myself in you time and again, if only to hear the sounds you make.” Rolling her nipples between his fingers, he ran his nose up the column of her neck. “I love you, little mate.”
Her breath hitched at his admission. He’d never said it before.
“Tell me,” he murmured, “when you fucked yourself with a replica of my dick, did you think of my body covering yours as I made you mine?” One hand grabbed her chin and tilted her face back. “Or did I bend you over and bruise your hips?”
“Nick,” she breathed as her inner walls clenched around his fingers, and when she rolled her hips on instinct, tingles erupted all over seconds before she came, crying out with her release.
The man behind her hadn’t moved a muscle or said a word as she rode his hand, and after she came down from the high and he pulled his fingers away, she wasn’t prepared for his next question in her post-orgasm haze.
She wished she had been, because when he asked, “It wasn’t me you saw as Nick, was it?” she could only stare.
