Page 3 of His Perfect Princess

Figured he’d think with his stomach.

“She’s no’ a snack,” I growled, “and she’s no’ for ye.”

“Aye?” he taunted. “Because ye’ve claimed her?”

I hadn’t.

But I would.

Clarissa was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. Her pale hair hung in a smooth, straight cascade all the way to her perfectly round arse. Her mouth was wide and lush, her lips often curling into a smile, as if she was thinking naughty thoughts. She kept her violet eyes lowered at all times—as was right—but I’d been lucky enough to glimpse them when I caught her looking at me during royal functions.

How many times had I taken myself in hand, thinking of those beautiful eyes gazing up at me, waiting to hear my commands?

I knew Wulf was teasing me, pushing me into action. As far as I was concerned, it was unnecessary. “She’s mine,” I declared quietly, dangerously. I glared at him. “Mine.”

I’d known it since last year, when she’d been presented to me at the opening of Parliament. I went as the family’s representative, because that was the role of the Crown Prince, and I wouldn’t allow myself to be less than perfect. Her father had approached me, begged to introduce his daughter to me. One look at that perfect hourglass figure, and I’d agreed wholeheartedly.

As her father said her name, she’d curtseyed deeply, and peeked up at me submissively…and I’d felt a bolt of hot lust all the way to my cock. Holy fook, I wanted her on her knees in front of me for the rest of my life!

“You have chosen a bride already, Rickard?” my mother trilled. “How wonderful!”

Until this evening, I hadn’t realized I had. Truthfully, marriage hadn’t been on my mind; I assumed I had plenty of time to eventually choose a future queen. I never lacked for female companionship, but not all of them were up to my particular…demands.

It was difficult to imagine finding a woman who could meet my passion in the bedchamber, as well as be suitable for the kingdom. Such a woman would have to be perfect.

And my thoughts returned to Clarissa.

I’d seen her a half dozen times in official contexts—meetings with her father or formal dinners. Each and every time I found an excuse to interact with her, drop hints about my interest, and each and every time she’d blushed prettily and made me want to have her even more.

I’d been walking around with a cockstand for a year.

As Wulf and Mother began to argue—playful on Wulf’s terms, exasperated on Mother’s—I considered Father’s ultimatum.

If he—as the King—declared it was time for me to marry, then I suppose these vague musings of the last year just coalesced. And judging from the smug glances Wulf kept sending me, he’d pushed me into it on purpose.

Well, he was barbaric and embarrassing at times…but if he’d been attentive enough to notice my interest in Clarissa, then he must not be a complete idiot.

And if Clarissa was able to meet my exacting demands in the bedchamber in the way I suspected she might, well then…

She’d be the perfect wife for the perfect crown prince.

“Mother, Father,” I interrupted firmly. “Ye can go ahead and begin planning my wedding. It’s my duty to marry first, as Crown Prince.”

Wulf—who was sprawled at his place with an elbow on the table like some kind of beast—poked Findlay with his fork. “Fookin’ perfect Rickard,” he muttered under his breath.

I twisted my head just far enough to lift one eyebrow imperiously at him. He growled in response, which was what I was hoping for. He really was so easy to rile.

“Boys! Respect, please.”

Our mother scolded at us from her spot beside Father. Of course they were touching; it seemed like they couldn’t keep their hands off one another.

The entire kingdom knew they’d not only married for love, but for lust too. My brothers were embarrassed by their constant fooking, but it was a source of pride for me. And something I planned to emulate with my wife.

I didn’t plan on forcing myself to keep my hands off Clarissa once we were married. I’d touch her whenever and however I wanted, and it wouldn’t matter who was watching.

“So, Rickard,” Mother continued. “You have already proposed to a girl? You have a wife chosen?” She was so excited at the prospect, she was bouncing a little in her chair while she clutched Father’s hand.

“I have a wife chosen, aye.” I swept a cool gaze around the room, hoping my example would nudge my brothers into doing their duty. “I havenae proposed yet, but she will accept me.”

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