Page 5 of His Bound Bedmate

I allowed myself a grin. We were about to find out.

“I require a wife who is adventurous. Who is willing to experiment, to allow herself the freedom to look beyond what others do, and find the pleasure—the incredible, intense pleasure—in the unexpected.”

With each word I leaned closer, until I was breathing in her ear, reveling in the small shivers I saw on her neck.

“The pleasure in allowing me to open her body to new levels of erotic joy, in reaching orgasmic heights she’d only dreamed of.” I lowered my voice to a whisper. “The pleasure of trust. The pleasure of being bound.”

The pen jerked in her hands, blotting over the “B” in the word she hadn’t written yet, her breathing shallow and her attention focused on the page.

I straightened quickly, satisfied. “Ye signed a privacy contract when you came to work for my family, Millicent.” I knew damn well she had. “So I feel comfortable sharing something with ye.”

I watched that gorgeous throat of hers—where I wanted to place a diamond collar to scream to the world “She’s mine!”—work as she swallowed, and felt my cock thicken. So much for my iron self-control.

Her gaze still on the page of her notebook, she whispered, “Anything, Findlay.”

At her willing and immediate obedience, I offered her my hand. When she took it without hesitation, warmth shot up my arm. Judging from the way her eyes widened, she felt it too. My lips quirked. I pulled her to her feet, noting the way she kept her knees pressed together.

Oh, it’s not going to help, my soon-to-be-princess. I can smell yer dripping pussy from here.

Knowing how much she wanted my attentions just made my cockstand harder.

“Come with me,” I commanded. I needed to see if she was as adventurous as I’d guessed.

Chapter 3

Millicent

My heart was pounding as he led me out of the Archives’ front office towards the main staircase. Could it be because I’d just spent a delicious ten minutes with him hovering behind me, my skin tingling at his nearness and practically panting at his scent?

Very likely.

Could it be because he was trusting me, speaking to me as an equal, asking my opinion and valuing my intellect?

Almost assuredly.

Could it be because he was still holding my hand, which he’d tucked into the crook of his elbow, and was now tracing little circles across the back of with his thumb?

Well, obviously.

Try as I might, I couldn’t recall him ever touching me before. He must have, surely?

But never—never—in the sensual way he’d taken my hand and was holding me now; far enough apart to be formal, but entirely too close for a prince to dally with a mere librarian. Part of my brain was screaming “He’s your superior, Millicent, is this allowed?” but the larger part screamed back, “Quiet, you want this!”

I was listening to that part.

Because holy hell did I want this. I wanted it badly. I had wanted him to touch me like this from the moment I’d laid eyes on Prince Findlay, and the current damp state of my bloomers proved how ready and willing I was to do anything to help him right now.

Anything.

Even if that meant helping him chose a bride.

As we walked together through the main halls of the castle, nodding to passing servants like everything was perfectly normal, I couldn’t help but think of his list of requirements. The ones he’d dictated to me. The ones which had sounded an awful lot like…me.

I wondered how much courage it would take to say, “You know, I meet the standards you’ve laid out, Your Highness.”

To my surprise, we started up the main staircase, towards the upper floors and the royal family’s living quarters. Was he taking me to his bedchamber? Why?

My heart managed to double-time, somehow.

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