Rosalind slowly slipped the coat off her shoulders, and it fell to the ground with a soft thud. She swallowed hard as her eyes locked with Alaric's. He sat against the headboard, one arm stretched lazily at his side while those intense eyes remained fixed on her, the kind that always made her knees feel weak beneath her.
He knew he should have waited until nightfall, but patience had never been one of Alaric's virtues, and suddenly it no longer seemed like such a bad idea to have her please him now.
The windows were shut and the curtains had been drawn, leaving the room dim and closed off from the rest of the world, so it was only the two of them and the silence between them.
"What are you waiting for, Rosalind?" he asked, his voice smooth and sweet enough to make her toes curl. "Come and impress me."
Rosalind hesitated, but the moment his gaze sharpened, she forced her feet to move.
Every step toward the bed felt heavier than the last, as though time itself had slowed just to watch her embarrass herself. There was no one coming to save her, and she knew better than to waste his time. If she displeased him, she knew exactly where she would end up. In that cursed gallery as another one of his trophies.
She had seen enough of Alaric to know he never made empty threats.
When she finally reached the bedside, she froze.
Her brows furrowed as she tried to recall what she had read in the book, but it was as if every word had fled her mind the moment she stepped into this room.
Alaric tilted his head, watching her with mild amusement. When it became obvious she was doing nothing, he reached out and took her wrist, and Rosalind's eyes snapped to his as if she had just been dragged out of a daze. Then, with one sharp pull, he brought her into his lap.
A gasp escaped her lips.
"Have you learned nothing all this while?" he asked softly, though there was something dangerous beneath the sweetness in his tone. His fingers tightened around her wrist. "I thought you had a surprise for me."
"Yes… Your Majesty," Rosalind answered quickly, and suddenly fragments of what she had read came rushing back to her.
Alaric sighed. "I'll have to remind you, Rosalind. If you don't do it right..."
"I'll impress you, Your Majesty," she cut in before he could finish.
For a moment, she thought he might be annoyed, but instead his lips slowly curved into a smile.
"Good girl."
The words sent something uneasy through her chest as his hand moved to the back of her hair in a slow stroke. Rosalind swallowed the tight knot in her throat and lifted trembling hands to the buttons of his shirt, remembering the woman in the book and the way she had started there.
She undid the first button.
Before she could move to the next, Alaric's fingers came beneath her chin and tilted her face upward until she was forced to meet his eyes.
"Maintain eye contact, Rosalind," he murmured. "The eyes are the very first step in seduction."
Her lips parted slightly, and she gave a small nod.
His smile deepened before he withdrew his hand, and this time she continued, undoing the second button and then the third while forcing herself to hold his gaze. It was unbearable. His eyes were too intense, and it felt as though he could see every nervous thought running through her mind. Meanwhile, amusement danced shamelessly in his own.
The sight of it only annoyed her more.
She hated that she had to do this. Hated that it was for him of all people. But she kept her face carefully blank and continued until every button had come undone.
His chest was bare before her now.
Rosalind took a slow breath as she tried to remember the next part, and then she leaned in. Her lips brushed against his jaw first, soft and uncertain, before parting slightly so that her tongue could leave a faint wet trail against his skin. His taste was warm and faintly salty, but she forced herself not to stop.
Alaric's Adam's apple bobbed.
Her lips moved lower, from his jaw to his neck, and the simple touch of her mouth against his skin was already enough to make heat coil low inside him. He hated how easily she could affect him, and yet he found himself wanting more.
Rosalind continued downward, pressing kisses along his chest and then lower across the hard abs of his stomach until she could feel the light brush of hair against her face. But then something else touched her throat. Something warm and firm.
She stilled immediately.
That hadn't happened in the book and her brows pulled together in confusion. What exactly was...
"Look at me, Rosalind."
His voice cut through her thoughts like a command, and her gaze flew upward at once before she could even glance down to understand what had touched her.
"Huh?"
Her eyes widened, and the innocence in them made something dark flicker in Alaric's expression.
At that moment, all he could think was that he wanted to claim her right there. And he would. Because Rosalind was his. And she would belong to no one else.
"Get up."
Alaric's voice suddenly cut through the moment, and Rosalind obeyed at once, quickly rising from his lap without even daring to look down. For a second, confusion flickered through her mind. She wondered why it was already over before it had even truly begun, but deep down, she was relieved. In the book, the next thing the woman had done was kiss the man and climb onto him, and Rosalind knew she was not going to do any of that. So for that small mercy, she was thankful that Alaric had stopped the moment.
But the king had only stopped for his own reasons.
"Kneel on the floor," he commanded.
Rosalind's brows creased at once. She stared at him, not understanding what he had just asked of her, and even less where this was leading.
"Your Majesty?" she asked, confusion lacing her voice.
"Kneel, Rosalind," Alaric repeated, and this time his tone left no room for hesitation or argument.
Reluctantly, Rosalind lowered herself to her knees. The coldness of the tiled floor bit against her skin through the thin layer of her dress as the fabric spread around her. Her heart had already begun to beat faster.
Alaric rose from the edge of the bed and stepped forward until he was standing directly in front of her. Rosalind's eyes remained fixed on him the entire time, her mind already racing with possibilities.
Was this a punishment? Had she failed to impress him? Was he about to beat her?
The only form of punishment she had ever truly known was being forced to kneel before a flogging, and the thought alone made her stomach tighten. Her pulse quickened as fear crept into her chest, and she braced herself for whatever he was about to do.
Rosalind's fingers curled into the fabric of her dress while her throat went dry, and she could already feel the sting of pain her mind had begun to imagine.
But Alaric did none of the things her frightened mind had imagined.
Instead, his hand moved to the fastening of his trousers, and with one slow tug, he loosened the rope at his waist.
Rosalind heard the fabric fall to the floor with a soft thud.
And so did her heart.
Heat rushed straight to her face, staining her cheeks a deep red as her gaze slowly dropped from his face to his chest, then lower past his stomach until her eyes landed on him. She nearly stopped breathing.
For a moment, her mind went completely blank, and all she could do was stare.
He was hard, pressed up against his lower stomach, and the sight of it made her feel as though the room had suddenly tilted beneath her. He was far bigger than she had imagined, and for a moment her thoughts became a confused rush. How had that even fit beneath his clothes? Had it been there the entire time while she was kissing him?
Then it struck her. That had been what brushed against her throat earlier. The memory hit her all at once, and heat rushed up her neck so quickly that she thought she might faint from the embarrassment of it.
But Alaric had not wanted it merely brushing against her throat. He wanted to feel himself buried deep in her throat until she choked on it.
His eyes darkened as he looked down at her.
"Touch it, Rosalind," he commanded.
Rosalind froze where she was, her lips parting slightly as dread and disbelief crashed through her at once.