The Villainess Wants To Retire-Chapter 437: Home

The ride to the palace, which usually took twenty minutes, was over in five. Tempest was lathered in sweat as they skidded into the courtyard. Servants scattered like leaves in a gale, and guards scrambled to open the heavy inner gates.

Soren slid off the horse and caught Eris as she moved to dismount. He didn’t let her feet touch the ground. He swept her up into a bridal carry this time, but there was nothing romantic about it. It was predatory. His grip was tight, his eyes fixed on the path to their wing of the palace.

"At least let me wash up," Eris tried, her voice wavering as she attempted to sound reasonable. "I’ve been at the festival all day, Soren. I’m covered in snow and woodsmoke and... "

"No need," he cut her off, his voice dark as he strode down the vaulted corridor. "I like you exactly like this. Smelling of the North."

"Soren, I’m covered in... "

"I don’t care," he growled, his gaze dropping to her lips. "Because in a few minutes, I’m going to cover you in so much more."

Oh?

Eris’s breath hitched. Her thighs clenched instinctively, a pulse of pure, unadulterated want throbbing through her. She hid her face in the crook of his neck, unable to bear the knowing looks of the servants who pressed themselves against the walls as they passed.

"Everyone saw," she mumbled into his chest, her voice muffled.

"Good," Soren replied, his pace never slackening. "Let them see. Let them know you’re mine. Let them know I have no intention of letting you go."

They reached the massive, iron-bound doors of their shared chambers. Soren didn’t wait to turn the handle; he kicked the doors open with a resounding thud that echoed through the suite. He stepped inside and finally set her down, but it wasn’t a gentle release. He practically dropped her, and Eris stumbled back, her skates catching on the thick furs of the rug.

"You... " Eris started, spinning around to scold him, her finger already rising to point at his chest.

But Soren wasn’t listening. He turned back to the doors and slammed them shut. He threw the heavy iron bolt with a definitive, metallic click that signaled the end of the world outside. When he turned back to her, he had that look... the look of a man who had finished talking.

Eris took a reflexive step back, her heart leaping into her throat. She swallowed hard, her mind momentarily flashing to her collection of medicinal tonics and stamina potions. I’m going to need more, she thought with a dawning sense of panic. I’m going to need so many more.

Realizing she was cornered, Eris did the only logical thing: she turned and tried to run. She made a break for the bathing room, her skirts bunched in her hands as she scrambled over the rugs.

Soren let out a low, dark laugh that sent a shiver down her spine. "Running, Eris? Truly?"

He didn’t even have to try. In two long, powerful strides, he was on her. He caught her from behind, his arm snaking around her waist like a band of iron and hauling her back against him. The impact was jarring, her back hitting his chest, the sheer size of him enveloping her. She could feel everything now... the heat of his skin through his tunic, the hardness of his desire, and the ragged, hot breath on the nape of her neck.

He didn’t take her to the bed. Not yet. He took off her skates and walked her toward her ornate vanity table, a massive piece of dark wood topped with a triptych of silver-backed mirrors. He forced her to stand before it, his hands heavy on her shoulders.

"Look at how beautiful you are," he commanded, his voice a low vibration in her ear. "Watch, Your Majesty."

He began to undress her with a slow, agonizing deliberation. He stood behind her, his eyes locked on her reflection in the mirror so she was forced to see what he saw. He removed her heavy cloak first, letting it fall to the floor in a heap of grey wool.

Next came the laces of her outer dress. He undid them one by one, his fingers grazing the skin of her back, a deliberate torture that made her whimper. He peeled the heavy fabric away until she was left in nothing but a single, flimsy silk undergarment... a peach-colored slip so thin it was practically transparent, clinging to her curves and obscuring nothing.

Eris’s face burned. She saw herself in the mirror, her hair a snowish mess, her skin flushed, and her husband standing behind her like a shadow, his hands pressed against her pale silk.

Soren leaned down, his mouth pressing against her ear. "It would be much more fun wouldn’t it?" he whispered again. "To watch what I do to you. Watch yourself come apart."

One of his hands slid up her stomach, the heat of his palm searing through the silk. He moved upward until he cupped her breast, his thumb circling the peak through the thin fabric, teasing a sharp, needy gasp from her lips. His other hand slid down, his fingers tracing the line of her hip before moving between her thighs.

"Spread your legs," he commanded. It wasn’t a request. It was the order of a sovereign.

"You can’t command me," Eris breathed, her voice lacking any real conviction.

Soren didn’t argue. He leaned forward and nipped his teeth into the sensitive cord of her neck, a sharp sting that made her arch her back, before he licked the mark he had made. "Spread them," he whispered, a sweet, dark threat.

Eris obeyed. She couldn’t help it. Her legs parted, her gaze fixed on the mirror as she watched his hand disappear beneath the hem of her silk slip.

His fingers slid beneath the fabric, finding the slick, hot reality of her. He let out a low, triumphant sound. 𝘧𝑟𝑒𝑒𝘸𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝓁.𝘤𝘰𝓂

"Already?" he teased, his voice thick with a dark satisfaction. "We haven’t even started yet, and you’re already ready for me."

He slid a finger inside her, a slow, deep intrusion that made Eris’s knees buckle. She gripped the edge of the vanity table, her knuckles white, as she watched her own reflection... her head falling back, her eyes fluttering shut... while Soren watched her with the hunger of a man who was finally, truly home.