Page 18 of Blade's Princess

Carefully, I turn within his embrace, wincing slightly at the unfamiliar soreness between my legs and the twinge from my still-healing ribs. “Fantastic,” I answer honestly.

He pulls me closer, pressing a kiss to my forehead. "Any regrets?"

I shake my head against his chest. "None."

His hand drifts down my spine, following the curve to cup my bottom. The casual possessiveness of the gesture makes me feel wanted in a way I never imagined. After years of being treated like I’m disposable—something to be used and discarded—I love his possessiveness.

"I like you being here," he says, gesturing around his room. "In bed with me. Wearing nothing but your birthday suit.”

I lean into his touch, craving the security of belonging to someone who values me.

We stay like that for a while, tangled together in comfortable silence. His hands roam my body, not with urgent desire but with contented possession, as if confirming I'm really there,really his. The rough calluses on his palms create a delicious friction against my skin.

Eventually, he sighs, glancing at the clock on the bedside table. "I have to go to church soon."

"Church?" I ask, confused. Blade doesn't strike me as the religious type.

He chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest against my ear. "Club meeting. We call it church. Happens every week, more often when there's pressing business." He runs a hand through his hair. "I'll be tied up for a while."

Disappointment washes through me, though I try to hide it. "Oh. Okay."

"Hey." He tilts my face up to his, his brown eyes intense. "I'd rather stay here with you. But being VP comes with responsibilities."

I nod in understanding. "Of course. I'll be fine."

Blade reaches for his phone on the nightstand, his thumb quickly tapping out a message.

"What are you doing?" I ask, watching as his brow furrows in concentration.

"Texting Angel to come hang out with you while I'm in church," he replies without looking up.

"What?" I sit up fully now, pulling the sheet with me to cover my nakedness. "I don't need a babysitter, Blade. I'm nineteen, not nine."

He glances up, a hint of amusement playing at the corners of his mouth. "It's not babysitting, princess. It's..." he pauses, searching for the right word, "companionship."

I cross my arms over my chest. "I can be alone for a few hours. I'm pretty good at entertaining myself."

"Humor me," he says, his expression softening. "The clubhouse can be overwhelming for newcomers, besides—" He holds out his phone, showing me Angel's response.

Would love to! Desperately need some girl time. Jumping in shower. Meet in common room in 20?

I bite my lip, unable to deny that the thought of navigating the clubhouse alone is slightly intimidating. Plus, Angel is nice, and I haven't had a female friend in well, ever.

"Fine," I concede with a small smile. "But just so you know, I'm agreeing because I want to get to know Angel better, not because I need supervision."

Blade grins, pulling me in for a quick kiss. "Got it, princess."

Twenty minutes later, I make my way downstairs to the common room.

The common room is nearly empty when I arrive. No sign of Angel yet. At the bar, a couple guys are laughing and flirting with a group of women. The guys must not be full members since they’re not in church. The women are beautiful in a hard-edged way, with perfect makeup, high heels, and styled hair. To say they’re scantily dressed would be generous. They have barely any clothes on at all. I think one of then is wearing pasties over her nipples.

None of these people were here this morning for my impromptu birthday celebration, and I'm not sure what to do.

I could go over and introduce myself, but I'm suddenly acutely aware of how I must look in Blade's black t-shirt that hangs to mid-thigh and sweatpants rolled multiple times at the waist and ankles.

I feel extremely out of place...and slightly triggered, if I'm being honest. They remind me of Brittany and Madison, with their confident smirks and critical gazes. I've had enough of feeling judged to last a lifetime. I duck my head and turn in the opposite direction, deciding to explore while I wait for Angel.

The clubhouse is larger than I realized. I wander down corridors I haven't seen before, past what appears to be a communal bathroom and several closed doors with various signs—"Storage," "Security," "Cipher's Cave." The place is a maze of hallways and rooms, much of it poorly lit.

---