[Music Recommendation: Tattoo~ Loreen]
When Freya woke up, she heard voices, one she recognized as her father’s, and the others belonging to Princess Lirien and the Crown Prince.
"Is she going to wake up?" Princess Lirien asked. "We should call the physician; maybe more of the pins on her shoulder..."
Freya curled her toes when she heard this. She didn’t want any more pins on her body, but most importantly, she didn’t know how to wake up. What if Rowan had finally told everyone while she was unconscious that they were... Sleeping together? How would she face the princess?
Rowan, sitting next to Freya’s bed, noticed her furrowed brows. He placed his hand on her forehead, rubbing it gently.
"She should be better with more of the pins. I don’t think the food went down well."
Princess Lirien nodded. "Yes, yes... I’ll send a maid to bring the physician back."
Rowan’s grin widened when he saw Freya press her lips tightly. He leaned closer, as if checking her temperature, and whispered,
"You should open your eyes now."
"I can’t. Everyone’s here," Freya muttered, still keeping her eyes tightly shut.
Rowan leaned back, smiling. He pinched her nose lightly before saying,
"I think she’ll be fine now."
Louis narrowed his eyes, looking between his daughter and Rowan. He nodded in agreement.
"Yes, Freya doesn’t get sick much. She just needs rest. We should let her sleep."
"Really?" Princess Lirien’s brows knitted with worry. "I’m really sorry she had to experience such a stressful dinner. It must have been so uncomfortable." She turned to Rowan and bowed.
"Take care of her, then. I’ll come back later."
The princess bowed and left the room with the Crown Prince.
Louis sighed, placing both hands on his waist. He seemed like he wanted to say more but stopped.
"I’ll be right back. Let me make some warm porridge for her."
Rowan nodded, watching until the last person left the room. Then he flicked Freya’s forehead.
"Ow!" Freya cried, rubbing her head. She sat up in bed, glaring at Rowan.
"Why did you do that?"
Rowan crossed his legs. "Why did you pass out earlier?" he asked, staring at her as if he could see into her very soul.
"You..." Freya paused, rubbing her chest, which still hurt from when she had swallowed the meat too quickly.
"You were going to tell everyone that..." Her voice trailed off.
Rowan didn’t look away. "That what?" He stretched his hand forward, rubbing her forehead gently.
Freya bit her lip, feeling his touch. She gripped the sheets tightly, enjoying how his hand felt on her forehead, and wanted to close her eyes.
"That what? You like me?" Rowan teased, moving his hand down to rub her face.
Freya opened her eyes. "I don’t like you!" she retorted.
Rowan’s fingers moved down to her chin, tracing her skin. "You don’t?" he asked. Without waiting for a reply, he continued,
"Then what you like is how I touch you?"
Freya tried to protest again, raising her hand to push Rowan’s away, but he caught it. Her small hand looked tiny in his. "Let me go," she demanded, trying to pull free from his grasp.
"I can’t," Rowan’s voice was low, his eyes still locked on her. "It’s your bad luck, Freya, but I can’t let you go. Not now, not ever."
Freya froze for a moment, trying to process Rowan’s words. This was the same man she had insulted, and she had expected him to hate her, to stay away from her.
"Did you not understand what I said to you earlier? I said-"
"That I’m untamed? Have no idea about family?" Rowan finished for her, his hand now gently brushing her hair.
Freya exhaled softly. "Then why are we still here? Why don’t you hate me for saying all those things to you?"
"I’d be crazy to hate someone for speaking the truth." Rowan’s lips curled up as his fingers traced the girl’s neck, causing her to inhale sharply. She was his, and he was the only one who knew what her body wanted.
"Everything you said was right. I have no idea what family is about; I was a slave until I met King Adric. Being gentle? That’s not even close to who I am." His eyes followed Freya’s movements as she tried to resist enjoying his touch.
Freya looked at her hand, still held by Rowan. "Please, let me go. Why are you doing this to me? What if... what if I fall in love with someone and decide to marry?"
Rowan grinned, his fingers gently tracing her wrist.
"What’s funny?" she asked, her tone serious, seeking for her freedom.
Rowan shrugged. "Laughing because a lady made a joke."
Freya furrowed her brows, not understanding what was so funny about her wanting to marry. In one swift move, Rowan lifted her on his lap.
"What are you doing?!" Freya cried, feeling a familiar warmth between her legs. It was a sensation only Rowan ever gave her.
Rowan pulled her close, pushing her gown up slightly as he touched her calf gently.
"What am I doing? I don’t even know, Freya. But I know what I want, and it’s you. And if I can’t have you, nobody else will."
Freya tried to push him away, but Rowan caught her hands and captured her lips in a kiss. It wasn’t rough or forceful like he usually did. This time it was gentle.
"Mmph..." Freya tried to speak, but when Rowan’s hands wrapped around her waist, pulling her close, she gave in, clutching his shoulders tightly.
Rowan closed his eyes as he kissed her. He loved the way she tasted, the way she melted in his arms and whispered his name. What he had started as a game, a way to make her eat her words, and break her principles had turned into something far deeper. He had trapped himself in the very web he had woven. She was more than just a girl he wanted to scream his name, he was addicted and there was no going back. She was his beautiful addiction.
He couldn’t let her go. He wanted her, and if this was love, he would shamelessly give in to it. Pulling away from the kiss, he rubbed her face gently with his palm.
"I won’t- I can’t let you go," Rowan said, his voice husky and low. "I’m going to be the first and last man to ever touch you."
Freya was speechless, her face flushed from the kiss. "Why me? I don’t even love you."
"You’re the only one who makes me feel this way," Rowan replied, pulling her closer to feel his growing arousal, the hardness of his manhood. "I’ve always chosen the women I wanted, controlled them. But with you, it feels like you’re the one controlling me. You have to take responsibility."
Rowan’s hand moved up from her waist, gently rubbing her back. "And love? I don’t know how that works, but I’ll make you love me. I’m not the gentleman you dream of, but I’ll hold you down until my roughness feels gentle."
Freya inhaled, her toes curling for reasons she couldn’t explain. She licked her lips, still throbbing from the kiss.
Rowan groaned at the sight of her innocent yet seductive gesture. "I think I’m in trouble," he said, his arousal becoming more intense.
"What?" Freya asked, confused by his words.
"You’re going to be the end of me," Rowan said. Before she could respond, he pushed her down onto the bed, towering above her. He parted her legs with his body and leaned down, taking her lips in another deep, passionate kiss.
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