Heir to Ruin

“Should I call you Her Majesty?” He rumbled. 

My heart thumped in my breast. I'd left him without explanation, the gracious Uncle-mentor to the prince in waiting. Corbin. I didn't get to explain that my brother spirited me away when my older sister fell ill. With her death I had to step into her place as the eldest princess. My infatuation with Corbin was ill advised to begin with. We'd met several times since I was presented to the courts when I was an adolescent, he was the strikingly handsome prince -- the King’s youngest brother. Girls tittered when he walked by, praying they'd be the one to warm his bed for as long as they could entertain him.

Rumors about him were wildly incongruent: he never publicly claimed a lady because he was impotent, or he required silence after the deed…paid off the women. Absurd.

By chance, he was staying with my cousin on a diplomatic visit when I was there with my regular tutoring. Their library was well known for its size and quality, thus my cousin's tutors insisted on conducting class there. I was beyond regular tutoring, but would come by for a seminar series when I could manage.

A golden-haired, well-built man was standing in front of the shelf I needed. “Sir. If you'd please move,” I ordered gently.

Corbin’s dark eyes bored into me as he turned around. Something flashed in them, looking me up and down, flicking up and down before drawing much attention. “My apologies,” he used his swoon-worthy smile. “I was searching for a volume…that one, in fact.” He gestured to the history I was clutching to my chest.

“Oh! I meant no offense,” my cheeks burned.

He reached for the book, “not at all. Shall we trade?”

“I need the second volume,” I pressed my lips together. His gaze traveled behind me, then a dangerous smirk. Corbin leaned into me, breath hot on my neck while he so innocently retrieved the book I was looking for from the shelf, grazing my waist.

I was stunned into silence. Me? The coveted prince was teasing me? He relieved me of the tome, sensually caressing it against my breasts. Surely an accident, I assumed.

Corbin traded our books, still contemplating something. An amusing secret only he knew. He lifted my chin, gently but firmly turning my focus only on him. “Are you unwell? You're awfully flushed.”

I rolled my lips against each other and before I could think of something to say, his thumb brushed my lower lip, pulling it away from the other. “A bad habit, princess. Careful lest you smudge your lip color. Who knows what things people would make of us hidden away in the stacks together?”

“Afraid of impropriety tainting your virtue, my Lord Corbin?” I teased lightly.

A low sound rumbled in his chest, “I like how it sounds when you say it.”

I frowned slightly, “Corbin?”

“My Lord.” He purred back.

Teasing whispers and accidental touches quickly turned into heated promises and groping. He requested I trust him, told me a word to say to stop him if necessary. I didn't need it. I wanted everything he gave me. Every slap of paddle against flesh. Every stifled gag. Every screamed climax.

One luxurious meeting at a time Prince Corbin broke me apart and made me his.

Candlelit darkness swallowed every glimmer of his golden aloofness. Corbin was freed by shadow: no hiding his temper or playing gracious. He was all consuming when we played. Not just that he was my sole focus, but that he devoured every part of me.

“I do so enjoy seeing the Highlands princess on her knees,” he'd praise, running fingers along my cheek. “You're not highborn here. You're not under your father's thumb. Who do you belong to, Birdie?”

I looked up at him, silently pressing his patience. His dark demands freed me from the bonds of duty. I could simply be. “The highest bidder,” I goaded him. Corbin’s countenance sparkled, “Is that so?” “It does seem that you placed the most recent bet,” I mused.

Pulling a handful of my hair back, he wrenched my head back. “I am the only one who owns you. I will ruin you for other men; nothing will ever compare to me. Ever.”

He was right. I was addicted to him.

I'm not sure what I expected would happen. He would get tired of me eventually and that'd be that. Or maybe I'd have some freedom in my choice of husband as the second daughter. It wouldn't be a bad match by any means. Our end was likely inevitable, even if it tore my soul apart.

“Princess Larkin,” Corbin snapped in the present, “I asked you a question.”

I breathed his name, feeling the hallway spin, “I didn't --”

“Didn't what, exactly? Run away in the night without a word? Show up out of nowhere to marry my nephew?” He growled, caging me between his body and the wall. “My things don't breathe without my permission, Birdie. So, what shall I do with you?”

I swallowed hard, “My Lord, you know the details of my -- I didn't have a choice, Corbin. Marjorie died. My family had contracts to fulfill.”

His hand closed around my neck. “You will only refer to me as My Lord.” His thumb caressed the column of my throat almost affectionately.

“Someone could see,” I objected half-heartedly. “My husband --”

My Lord chuckled dangerously, “Who owns you? Is it your husband?” His hot breath traveled across my jaw, nipping at my ear. I barely stifled a gasping moan. “Your body recognizes its Master.”

My addiction flared as his closeness stoked a fire in my chest. “This isn't appropriate,” I breathed, eyes squeezing shut. If I couldn't see him, it wouldn't affect me as much…right? “I am Princess Larkin. Even your golden chivalry cannot survive the gossip if you are found in a compromising position with the soon-to-be Queen. Would you have the entire court know what kind of depraved bastard you are?”

The smile on his face turned wolfish. “Sweet, pliant, Bridie. Do you think I’ve been celibate? People have learned not to speak of their time with me.”

“I find that difficult to believe,” I challenged him.

“A corpse can’t speak.”

My breath caught in my throat. He killed his lovers? Someone had to know what crimes were being committed. Corbin was too brazen to be entirely undiscovered, right? He had been careful when they were together before — places, times, whether or not she would be gagged.

“Your concern for my…virtue is misplaced. I see that look; I am not threatening you. I am certain you can be discreet. Wouldn’t want your princeling to know his intended bride is my depraved little whore, would you?”

I swallowed hard and tried to steady my lust-laden voice, “You are so certain I will fall to your attentions once more?”

Corbin answered by covering my traitorous lips with his, swallowing my whimper. I kissed him back, allowing him to claim my tongue as rightfully his. I hadn’t noticed the painfully slow bunching up of my skirts until the warm summer breeze chilled the heat between my thighs. Without pause, his hand slid along my wetness. A deep guttural groan rolled through his chest as he slid his fingers into me.

A sensible part of my mind was ashamed of how easily I caved to his touch; it knew I should be objecting, shoving him away.

Instead, I was eagerly riding his hand. Whether or not I may have loved him was immaterial. My body needed him. Needed the release he provided. The more desperate I became, the slower he stroked me. “Did you think I’d let you cum, Birdie? You’re far from being punished enough to enjoy your pleasure.” He withdrew his fingers from me, suggestively sucking them clean while I mewled in protest.

Then, he calmly strode away from me, leaving me a panting, rumpled mess in the hallway.