Page 29 of Downfall of a Princess

“Of course.” I nodded. “As long as you’re here willingly.”

“I am.” He rolled back his shoulders, tossing a look around the room. “So, where do you want me?”

“Where? Oh...” I tripped over my next breath.

Already?

Just like that?

He sounded so businesslike. But then again, what was it if not a business transaction?

I brought a hand to my mouth and surveyed the room uncertainly.

“I’m not sure... Where would be a good place?”

With a tilt of his head, he studied my face. “You’re twenty-six years old, Princess, aren’t you? I remember your last birthday celebration. Fireworks were shot all over the country. Newspapers said the queen released twenty-six pigeons during the parade in your honor.”

“Doves,” I corrected, rubbing my sweaty palms on my thighs. “They were white doves, not pigeons. And yes, twenty-six of them. I am twenty-six.”

“Which is old enough to know where and how you like being pleasured, isn’t it?” he said matter-of-factly.

For some unfathomable reason, the word “pleasured” sent my attention straight to his crotch. The thin material of his sarong clung to the bulge between his thighs closely enough for me to study its outline. Which I consciously chosenotto do, jerking my gaze up to his face again.

He wasn’t smiling. The amusement slowly cooled in his eyes as he took in my blushing cheeks and fidgeting hands.

“You haven’t been with a man before, have you?” His voice softened. “Is this supposed to be your first time?”

I scratched my forearm, though it didn’t itch, and adjusted my glasses that didn’t need to be adjusted.

“I guess Gem never communicated that, either.”

“Lady Gem never spoke to me,” he said. “This arrangement was done through my owner who vouched for my character. There was no need for Lady Gem to speak with me directly.”

A woman’s word was worth more than a man’s, especially since the woman was a well-respected business owner and the man was just a slave.

“Well, yeah... I mean yes, the purpose of this encounter is for me to gain experience in... um, sex. I’m sorry you had not been informed of that in advance,” I rambled on. “If it’s something that you have a problem with, my suggestion to leave—”

At a shake of his head, I shut my mouth.

“I already promised I’d stay,” he said, then added under his breath, “and frankly, you did get the best man for the job.”

What was that supposed to mean?

But I didn’t ponder his words for long, still racking my brain for the best way to go about this.

Should I take him straight to bed? Or would it be easier to do it right here on the couch? Or in the bathroom maybe, for a quick clean-up? How messy could these things get, anyway?

“Have you had dinner yet?” he asked unexpectedly.

“Dinner? No.” I hadn’t even thought about food.

“Good. Come here then.” He gestured at the sitting area by the fireplace, placing his other hand just behind my elbow as if to guide me but not quite touching. “Take a seat, so I can help you get rid of your boots and make you some tea.”

“My boots?” I repeated like a dummy but plopped on the couch in the spot he’d pointed at.

“Boots aren’t comfortable to wear indoors.” He took a box of matches from the tea tray and lit a tea light in the stand under the pot to keep it warm. Then, he got down on one knee in front of me and lifted his hand, palm up. “May I?”

“Are you really going to take my boots off for me? You know that’s not what you’re here for.”

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