“Shut up, Dasi,” Councillor Rarlorin growled.
“I will not. I’ve waited five years for you to get rid of my father. I even promised to marry that useless male you call a grandson. I want to be queen. If you want your grandson to be king, then get rid of Frek. I don’t care how you do it,” Dasi spat.
Frek started to laugh, but his chuckle was cut short when absolute chaos broke out. Males dressed in the council’s guard uniform swarmed around them, attacking the palace guards and the enforcers as well. When had the council recruited so many guards? Where had all these males come from?
His sister screamed and scurried out of the way, her two palace guards protecting her as she ran for cover among the obsessively neat straight rows of hedging. Frek would have to deal with her later. After what she’d done, he had every right to demand her death, and he would. As the new king, he couldn’t afford to have someone so intent on taking his throne left to their own devices. Dasi had proved she was a conniving manipulative little bitch, and she wouldn’t hesitate to try to have him or Lexie killed.
More males rushed forward aiming for Frek and the crew with him. He didn’t have time to yell to Pit to get Alexia to safety. He just had to trust the male would use his common sense. Stray blasts from laser weapons and pulse guns shot off all around them. Screams and cursing filled the air along with the shouted commands of Captain Garn.
Frek was quite happy to leave the commands to the older male. He wasn’t captain just because of his family’s loyalty. He was a damn fine soldier, a better commander, and he had the respect of every male on the palace and royal guards.
Councillor Rarlorin was shouting his own instructions, but Frek was too busy fighting a council guardsman to pay attention. The male was no match for him and was on the ground, with Frek moving onto his next target in seconds. If he could get to Rarlorin—who seemed to be the driving force of the council—and kill the bastard, maybe the guards would stop fighting.
Frek slashed at the male in front of him, ripped through the male’s throat, and vaulted over the falling body. He dodged and wove, slashing out and killing or wounding males as he went. He caught sight of the black robes of the councillors on the far side of the fighting.
Councillor Rarlorin had already committed high treason by plotting his father’s death. So had his sister. Although patricide by a member of the royal house was punishable by death, treason was not. But Frek had no intention of letting the councillor live. It was his grandson after all who had hurt Lexie. It was his grandson who had carved new scars into her skin.
Artel and Manik had done everything they could to lessen the scars, and had managed to leave Lexie with only thin white lines on her skin. They had healed far better than the ones she had received from her Craving Ceremony.
Lexie had told him what the young male had said about asking his brother and grandfather if he could keep her. Frek hadn’t had nightmares in years, but he’d had one that night. The image of Lexie left bleeding and wounded with cuts all over her body would always haunt him. It was the same image he’d seen when he’d been overcome with blood lust on his father’s ship.
A council guard stepped in front of him, his weapon pointed at Frek’s chest, a sneer on his lips that quickly turned to a grimace of pain as a knife lodged in his throat. Frek ripped his knife from the male as he rushed past, sending the male toppling to the ground.
He could feel the same haze of rage falling over him as he stalked through the throng of fighting males, killing and wounding male after male who got in his way. His blade was covered in the dark blood of the Allorians, his heart filling with a rising hatred for a male who had stolen his father’s life early.
Frek might have hated his father for what he did to his mother, but that did not mean he’d wanted him dead. They’d had shit to resolve. He’d had questions only his father could answer, and now he’d never get the chance.
A group of three council guards stepped in front of him, and Frek drew another knife from his thigh sheath. He bared his teeth at the males in a vicious caricature of a smile and attacked them. His blood boiled in his veins as bloodlust rose inside him.
The smell of blood and the screams and moans of the wounded and dying, the slick feel of blood-drenched grass under his feet, fuelled the rising lust for battle that thrummed through his veins. The clang of knives and swords clashing together and the blasts of laser and pulse weapons became a symphony around him as he stalked towards the councillors.
By the time he reached the councillors, he had two dripping blades in his hands and had left a swathe of fallen bodies behind. Red tinted his vision as rage roared through his veins, his Hrenkie physiology taking over and driving him to fight until he was the last male standing.
It was hard wired into his DNA to fight for his position, to fight to protect his mate. He would provide her with a safe place to raise their children, he would protect her from males he knew would have her killed if he didn’t succeed. It was in his blood to fight until there were no other contenders for his position as ruler, and the councillor had threatened that.
He took down one of the guards protecting the councillors and another backed away, dropping his weapon on the ground so he could run. Frek growled low in his throat, the sound unmistakably animalistic. The last guard pointed his weapon at Frek, his hand shaking so badly the gun rattled.
“Shoot him!” Councillor Rarlorin ordered from behind the guard.
The rest of the councillors backed away as Frek stalked closer and closer. The guard backed up, his weapon still trained on Frek, but he didn’t shoot.
“B-B-But he’s the prince,” the guard stammered.
“He’s not,” Rarlorin growled. “He’s a murdering imposter. Kill him! I’m ordering you to shoot him.”
Indecision twisted the guard’s features, his hand shaking even worse than it had been. He stepped back again as Frek continued to advance.
One step, two, closer and closer. He could almost smell Rarlorin’s fear now, the scent sickly sweet with an acrid undertone. With a flash of understanding, Frek realised he really could smell the councillor’s fear. His Hrenkie genetics had taken over, his animal instincts coming to the surface.
“Are you going to shoot me?” he growled at the guard.
“Shoot him! What are you waiting for?” Rarlorin almost shouted, and Frek could hear the fear in the male’s voice.
The guard stared at Frek for a long minute before he straightened his spine and held himself with his shoulders back and his chin up. He lowered the weapon and replied, “No, I believe you really are the Crown Prince, and I am loyal to the royal family. Everything the council has told us has been lies. I will not stand in your way.” The guard turned to walk away, but the councillor stepped forward and ripped the weapon out of the male’s hand and shoved him out of the way.
Rarlorin pointed the weapon at Frek and fired, but the shot from the pulse pistol barely grazed his arm, and in the haze of rage and bloodlust, Frek hardly felt it. He launched himself at the gaping councillor and spun the male around. With one hand clenched savagely in Rarlorin’s hair, he pulled the shorter male’s head back, exposing the long line of his throat. Frek looked at the rest of the council and slit Rarlorin’s throat.
Frek stared back at the shocked, fearful and angry faces of the remaining eleven councillors. They would get one opportunity—only one, and if they didn’t bow to him, they would die. All of them. If their sons refused to bow, they would die, too. But he needed to make an example of them. His people needed to understand what kind of king he was going to be. They thought his father was a tyrant. They hadn’t seen anything yet.
Frek would never harm the innocent or take advantage of those who had less, but these males were entitled, rich and powerful and they needed to be brought low. They needed to understand who was in charge. Frek would not share his power like his father had done. The council would be run the way he saw fit, and if the families of the aristocracy didn’t like it, he would replace them. All of them.
“You get one chance. Get down on your knees and prove your allegiance. If you choose not to, your sons will die, and your wives, mates and daughters will be married off to whomever I choose. Your estates will be forfeited to the crown for dispersal as I see fit and your titles bestowed on males of my choosing,” Frek growled.
All eleven of the councillors dropped to their knees. Frek studied each face carefully. Thirteen years was a long time, but he recognised three of the males as those who had been married to his aunts. He also picked out the three males he was going to have the most problems with.
“If you ever betray me, I will not hesitate to take out every one of you. I will wipe your family lines off the face of this planet and give your titles and estates to someone who deserves them better,” Frek said as he turned back to the chaos behind him.
The fighting still raged, but more palace guards had come to join in. More council guards were running towards them from the gate. All Frek could think about was getting to Lexie and ending this. Enough blood had been spilled on this day.
He tipped his head back, feeling his Hrenkie blood boiling in his veins, the drive to be the last male standing, and he roared. The deep animalistic sound crashed through the gardens of the palace silencing even the harshest screams of the injured.
“Enough!” he roared into the silence. “Councillor Rarlorin is dead. Loyalty to the crown comes before your loyalty to the council. Lay down your arms, and you will not be punished for following the council’s orders.”
The majority of the council’s guards dropped their weapons and a few went as far as to drop to their knees. It seemed to be a sign, and more and more of the council’s guards followed. The few who refused were quickly subdued by the palace guards and forced to their knees. Frek was surprised to see most of the palace guard also drop to their knees.
A shout rang out behind him a second before pain exploded through his back. Frek yelled as his body arched and spasmed with the force of the blast that hit him. He stood hunched over, his body twitching for a few seconds before he straightened up, the pain in his back almost driving him to his knees. Thank God the weapon had only been set on low.
“No!” Lexie screamed from the other side of the group of mixed guards, but Pit held her tightly, stopping her from running to him.
Frek spun around to find one of the councillors pointing a gun at him, anger and hatred twisting the male’s features into an ugly mask. So, Rarlorin wasn’t the only one. How many of them would try to kill him before this day was over? How many of them would come after him and Lexie?
The councillor sneered at him. “Just like your father. Full of threats, but too weak to follow through. We don’t need a king like you. We don’t need a weak half-blood on the throne.”
“I am nothing like my father,” Frek growled.
“Of course you are. You weren’t even strong enough to stay—” The councillor’s words cut off abruptly as Frek’s knife found its mark in his eye.
Frek stared at the remaining two councillors he expected trouble from. One looked away, refusing to meet his gaze, but the other stared back at him, hatred filling his dark gold eyes.
“Do you have something to say, councillor?” Frek asked, far more politely than he wanted to.
“Marry my daughter and I will follow you. The royal line is tainted with enough inferior blood. Take the steps necessary to purify the Ortalon line, and none of us will have a problem accepting you as our king,” the councillor said as he waved his hand to take in all of the other councillors.
A few of the councillors mumbled things under their breath, but Frek couldn’t hear them over the roaring in his ears. Even now, when their lives were on the line, they were trying to control him. It was a test plain and simple.
“My mother is of the royal house of Hrenkie. There is nothing inferior about her bloodlines. Just as my mate and my son are of the royal house of Borakoy. I will have no other female in my bed, nor will I be setting my mate aside to satisfy the council’s demands. I am not my father, and the council will only continue at my sufferance. If you start to make demands of me, I will abolish the council,” Frek growled.
Before the Councillor had a chance to respond, Lexie screamed and Frek spun around to see what was wrong. The blast hit him in the arm as he watched his beautiful mate stagger back. Frek roared and threw a knife towards the person who had fired on him, realising too late that it was his sister. But he was too slow. The guard standing behind her reached for her, his eyes flashing silver in the harsh glare of the Allorian sun, and snapped her neck.
Frek ignored the agonising pain in his arm as he dodged and wove through the guards kneeling on the ground and raced for his mate. His beautiful Lexie. His sweet, sassy mate, who had jumped from strength to strength in the last two weeks and not only overcome her fear of knives, but taken to knife fighting like she was a natural.
She continued to surprise him at every turn, delighting him with her sense of humour, her insatiable search for adventure and her friendly warm personality that had made even some of the fiercest males on the ship goo in her hands.
He would not let her die. He’d give his own life if it meant she survived. He watched in agonising slow motion as she crumpled to the ground.
“No!” Frek roared as he vaulted over the shoulders of the last two guards.
He was two steps away from Lexie when the shot hit him in the centre of the back. This time he didn’t yell out in pain, nor spin around to kill the male who had attacked him. His momentum sent him careening into Artel, who was crouched at Lexie’s side, but Frek didn’t feel it. The darkness claimed him a second after the shot hit him.
There was a tiny flame in the darkness and it called to him. Over and over he heard his name. He reached for the flame, the warmth and love he felt radiating from it, but it was always there at the tip of his fingers, just a little too far to grasp.
Then the tiny flame was gone and he was swallowed up by the dark and cold and left alone to grieve for something he couldn’t remember, something he knew was important to him. Frek fought the shackles that bound him in the dark, struggling to throw off the bonds that held him fast, and search for the tiny flame and its gentle warmth.
He didn’t know how much time passed before he realised the tiny flame was back, but it was different this time. Smaller, flickering sporadically instead of burning steadily. He gravitated to its warmth, to the low sweet voice that called to him, begged him, whispered words of love to him.
Lexie.
His Lexie, his mate.
This time, he didn’t try to reach for it, to grab it and hold it in his hand, but moved closer to it with his whole being. He was so far away it seemed years had passed before he felt the tiny warmth grow to be a blanket that wrapped him in soft arms and held him tight.
The tiny flame had become a blazing fire that dragged him into the light with gentle hands and warm lips, sweet words and gentle commands. Frek groaned as he opened his eyes, the light sending spikes of pain shooting into his brain.
“Frek?”
He’d never heard anything sweeter than Lexie’s voice, never heard anything more welcome in his life. She was alive, and so was he. He blinked, trying to focus in the bright light so he could see her face. Once he saw her, he couldn’t stop himself from reaching for her and dragging her down until her lips were pressed against his.
Her breath hitched, then he felt her hot tears hit his cheeks as he slid his tongue between her parted lips to taste the female who was made to be his. A low growl rolled through his chest as her sweet taste exploded across his tongue, but Frek was stopped from losing his head and devouring her by her gasping sobs.
“Baby, what’s wrong?” he murmured against her lips, looking into her almost entirely pink eyes. There was hardly a trace of black in them anywhere—something Frek had never seen.
She didn’t answer him, just buried her head in his neck and sobbed as if her heart was breaking. He pulled her out of the chair she was sitting in and settled her against him, holding her close, and drove his hand into her hair to hold her against him. “Baby, talk to me,” he commanded softly.
Her shoulders shook with the force of her emotion. “I was so worried about you,” she mumbled into his neck. “Pit woke up yesterday morning, and Safrenic couldn’t work out why you wouldn’t wake up. I’ve been so scared, Frek, that you’d be stuck in a coma forever. I needed you... and the crew need you.”
“Lexie, I wasn’t going anywhere. It was you who kept me going. It was you who kept me warm,” Frek said as he cinched her tighter against him and stared up at the ceiling.
So he was in the royal medical apartments. He’d recognise the ornately decorated ceiling anywhere.
“Ah, I thought I heard voices,” said a voice Frek hadn’t heard in thirteen years.
He looked towards the direction the voice had come from to see the Ortalon family’s head physician walking through the door. Barl Nar Safrenic. The male who had delivered him and tended all his wounds and ills as he’d grown into a young male.
“It’s been a long time, Barl. Fill me in on what’s been happening,” Frek commanded.
Lexie slapped him on the shoulder and mumbled, “Manners, Frek. Just because you’re going to be king doesn’t mean you have to be rude.”
The medic chuckled and grinned so wide he flashed pearly teeth. “Princess, kings don’t need to have manners, and neither do queens. Best you remember that.”
Lexie snorted against him and this time Frek chuckled. Gods, it was good to be home. He’d missed his people. He moved his hand from Lexie’s hair and stroked his hand down her back in long soothing strokes while he waited for the medic to sit in the chair he’d pulled Lexie out of.
“Captain Garn will be able to fill you in on what happened outside better than I can. He’ll be here shortly. Don’t be surprised if Princess Reni is with him. Your sister has been here three times a day since you arrived.”
Frek couldn’t help the grin that tilted up the corners of his lips at the mention of his sister. She was the only one out of the six that would have anything to do with him, and it was all because of her mother. His father’s third mistress, Reni’s mother, had been horrified at the way Frek’s father treated him, and she had become a friend who had stepped between him and his father more than once.
“Your crew mate Pit has made a full recovery from the shot he took protecting Princess Alexia and is with the rest of your crew,” Barl went on, but Lexie’s reaction confused Frek.
Why had she stiffened when Barl mentioned Pit being with the rest of the crew?
“Princess Alexia, of course, recovered first. Her human physiology partially protected her from the blast of the weapon, but there were other complications that we had to deal with—”
“What complications?” Frek demanded.
This time Lexie started to shake, making Frek’s heart race. What the fuck had happened to her while he’d been unconscious?
“There were some minor problems with the baby. The princess started to miscarry, but I managed to halt the process. We won’t know if everything is fine for a few weeks, but the embryo is continuing to grow, so I have high hopes your babe will be fine,” Barl replied.
Frek’s arms tightened around Lexie at the first mention of their baby, and grew tighter and tighter the more the medic talked, until Lexie stated to squirm against him. He pressed his forehead against the soft fall of her hair and breathed in her sweet scent.
“Fucking hell,” he groaned as emotion swept over him. She had needed him, and he hadn’t been there for her. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that alone, baby,” Frek whispered into her hair.
“I know,” she whispered back. “I know you would have been there if you could have.”
Frek held her close, overwhelmed by how much they had almost lost.
“I’ll give you two a moment,” Barl muttered as he left them alone.
It wouldn’t last, Frek knew. Garn would be here soon, and their little slice of peace and quiet would be gone. Frek satisfied himself with holding Lexie close and knowing Barl would have done everything he possibly could have to save their baby.
Barely five minutes had passed when Barl returned with Captain Garn and his sister Reni, who was followed by one of the tallest Allorian males Frek had ever seen wearing a guard’s uniform. No... he wasn’t Allorian. He was a half-blood like Frek. Interesting.
“It’s good to see you awake, my Prince,” Garn said the minute he was in the door.
“Thank you, Captain,” Frek replied, not wanting another slap from Lexie. “It’s good to be among the living again.”
Lexie pushed up and attempted to withdraw from his arms. “Where are you going?” Frek growled at her, not ready to let her out of his arms yet.
A soft giggle came from his sister, but Lexie sighed in what Frek interpreted as exasperation and wiggled out of his arms, then settled into the seat beside the bed. “Captain Garn has important things to discuss with you, and you don’t look very authoritative with me draped all over you,” she groused.
“Fine,” Frek grumbled back and turned to look at Garn as he pushed himself up to a sitting position. The sheet covering him slid down to pool in his lap, and his hair fell forward over his shoulder.
“Your Highness, we have a small issue we need to deal with before you can return to your rest,” Garn started.
“I don’t need more rest. I’ve been in bed long enough. I need clothes and a meal and a report on what has happened since I arrived...” Frek looked at the medic. “How long have I been unconscious?”
“Three days, Your Highness.”
“Fuck,” Frek growled.
“Your Highness, if I may, there is something more important we need to deal with first. The males who accompanied you are currently imprisoned in the palace prison.”
Frek growled low in his throat, but the captain talked over the threatening sound.
“They have been charged with the murders of the council guards who were sent to meet you at the spaceport, and the Torc male has been charged with Princess Dasi and councillor Cadenel’s murders. I took charge of them to ensure their safety, which is why they are here at the palace and not in the city’s lockup. The only way to free them is for you to issue a royal pardon, which you can only do as the king.”
Frek stared back at the captain and had to rein in his automatic response. Rage swept through him in a rolling burning wave of heat. Only Lexie’s soft hand landing on his forearm stopped his instinctive need to reach for a weapon.
“Then get the Chancellor in here and make me the king,” Frek growled.
The captain stared back at him, not bowed by Frek’s authority in the slightest. A slow grin tilted his lips up before he stuck his head back through the door and spoke to someone outside. A moment later, a male Frek vaguely recognised entered, carrying an ornate box in his hands and dressed in elaborate highly decorated robes.
The captain waved his hand towards the male. “Chancellor Mikolac the Eighth.”
Frek stared at the Chancellor. The male he remembered from his youth was a crotchety old annoyance. Even if the old Chancellor had died, this male was too young to be the next in line for the position. This male looked like the Chancellor’s grandson, a male he had played with as a child, a male who had been one of his only friends until his father sent his mother away and Frek wasn’t allowed to play with anyone anymore.
“Teno, it’s been a long time,” Frek muttered as he watched the male’s face.
“It has, Your Highness. Shall we get on with this? You always were the impatient one.”
A low chuckle rumbled up out of Frek’s chest. “I think you’re lying, Teno. Who was the one who wanted to grow up faster so he could marry Lady Celi?”
The Chancellor placed the box on the end of the bed and opened it. Frek stared at the ancient crown. His gut tightened as anticipation almost stole his breath. How many times had he imagined this day? How many times had he dreamed of the day he could take his father’s place and fix all the things his father had broken?
He couldn’t take his focus off the black metal and gem encrusted piece. The golden yellow gems sparkled in the overhead lights. The biggest one in the centre of the crown was almost as big as his fist.
Teno stepped in front of him, the crown held carefully in his gloved hands. Frek looked up into his friend’s eyes and saw something that staggered him in their golden depths. Acceptance, loyalty and admiration were all there for him to see.
“Frek Nar Ortalon, do you solemnly swear to govern your people and all your territories according to the established laws of Alloria?”
Frek frowned up at his friend, but replied, “I solemnly swear to do so.”
Teno winked at him and continued. “Do you promise to protect the people and territories of Alloria from the incursion or attack of foreign forces and their allies?”
“I promise.”
“Do you promise to uphold the laws of Alloria in all your duties as monarch and be an honorary administrator of justice?”
“I promise,” Frek agreed. What was Teno doing? These were not the traditional oaths of a coronation.
“Do you swear to take a mate of equal standing and suitable breeding and provide an heir for the throne at your earliest opportunity, thus continuing the honourable line of the Ortalon family as the ruling ancestral family of all of Alloria?”
Frek smirked. “I swear to do so.” Equal standing. Huh, that meant he couldn’t take any Allorian female to mate as none of them were on equal standing with him other than his sisters, and he wouldn’t mate with any of them if they were the last females in the universe.
“Frek Nar Ortalon, with the power vested in me as Grand Chancellor of Alloria, I crown you King of Alloria until death does claim you from our mother’s fertile lands.”
Teno settled the heavy crown on his head and stepped back. The Chancellor, Barl, Captain Garn, Reni and her guard and even Lexie bowed before him.
“Frek Nar Ortalon. Our King, our saviour and protector, accept our loyalty and oath to stand by your side and serve you in any capacity you require,” they intoned together.
He stared around him, taking a minute to accustom himself to the fact that he’d made it. His family’s position was safe and for the moment protected from the machinations of the council.
“Teno, did you make all that shit up? That was not the royal oath I read about during my studies. Stand up, all of you, you’re making my back hurt just looking at you.”
The Chancellor grinned down at him, “Pretty much. We covered all the important stuff, I just used plain language instead of the archaic formal language of the traditional oath. But don’t worry, when we have your public coronation it will be perfectly formal and stuffy.”
Frek grunted and pulled off the heavy crown. Gods, the thing weighed a ton. “Put this away. If I have to wear a crown, I want something simple and light. That thing will give me a headache.”
He held his hand out to Lexie when Teno had taken the crown and pulled her down to sit beside him. Heat flared along his side where her bare arm brushed against his naked ribs. He needed to get everyone out so he could reacquaint himself with his sexy mate. He craved her touch more than he needed air to breath.
“Captain Garn, I hereby offer a royal pardon to the males of the Fallen Star and Prince Arik of Borakoy. All charges are to be dropped and the males released. They are to be offered hospitality in the palace, clothing and anything they require including medical attention if needed, until they are ready to return to their ship. Oh, and give them back their weapons.”
“As you wish, Your Majesty.” Garn bowed before turning with a grin and leaving the room.
“Chancellor Mikolac, I would like you to initiate a search for husbands for my father’s mistresses and any of the princesses who are old enough to be wed. Those too young to marry may choose to continue to live in the palace under my authority or leave with their mothers. When they reach a marriageable age I will choose suitable husbands for them.”
Teno stared down at him, the ornate box under one arm. There was a strange look on his face, but all he did was nod before turning away.
“Oh, and start drafting the vows for my wedding. The ceremony will be in one month.”
Lexie sucked in a breath beside him and her hand spasmed in his. Damn he needed her, craved her, like she was an exotic drug—and he was addicted, to her taste, her smell, the feel of her soft hands on his body and her hot cunt clutching his cock.
“Everybody else, get out. I have three days without my mate to catch up on,” Frek growled as he lay back and pulled Lexie down beside him.
Low laughter and Reni’s soft giggle filled the medical room as they left and the door closed quietly behind them. Lexie buried her face in his neck and snorted.
“I can’t believe you just told them we’re going to have sex,” she mumbled.
Frek pulled her up to look into her eyes, his serious, his voice deep with emotion. “Baby, I’ll scream it the world. I’ll happily tell them how much I want you, crave you, and can’t live without you. My heart almost stopped when I saw you falling after you were shot. I’d thought I lost you. You drive me crazy, Lexie, and fill me up with so much feeling I think I’m going to burst. All this, being king and ruling a planet, none of it matters if I can’t have you, baby. I love you, I want you beside me every day. Marry me. Say you’ll be mine in the eyes of Allorian law as well as in my heart. Make it so nothing can ever get between us.”
She stared down at him, her eyes wet with unshed tears and a trembling smile on her lips. She was the most beautiful female he’d ever seen. The most beautiful female in all the universe and she was his.
“I love you too, and yes, I’ll marry you, King Frek Nar Ortalon, on one condition.”
A sly little smile played around her lips and lit her eyes with devious delight.
“What condition?” Frek growled.
“You owe me my reward. I overcame my fear of knives for you, I even learned how to fight with them—now you need to pay up.”
Frek stared at her, shocked for all of two seconds before he cracked up. His deep masculine laughter filled the small medical room before he flipped her over and climbed to his knees, straddling her hips.
“Baby, I’ll pay up every fucking day if you’re by my side.”
She giggled, and her gaze skimmed over him. It felt like her hands were on his body, stroking his shoulders, chest, then his stomach, which clenched in anticipation, and then finally her gaze landed on his aching cock. Frek shuddered at the heat he could see in her eyes and he stroked his stomach lightly until her gaze rose to watch.
“Princess,” he growled. “I’m going to make you crave me forever. Are you ready?”
Her little pink tongue darted out to swipe at her lower lip and she nodded, her gaze flicking up to his briefly before returning to his cock.
Frek groaned low in his throat as he wrapped his hand around his throbbing shaft, then he gave her a show she’d never forget in her entire life.