A Taste From You

was th

ching that obsession become betrothed to another man. A lesser man. Hell, not even a man, no

as all end

ly there wasn't going to be a

ly if it's not your wedding. Possibly worse if the actual groom is a rival king. You might say all those things, and

llie Hearst

My compulsion.

ing I might be, but there was nothing "gentlemanly" about me. My rough hands wa

Callie. M

any business having eyes on her, I'll say that. But Milton had swooped in to rain gifts and money on her slightl

, I wanted to bury him for being

in them to the bed. Legs that were made to wrap around my waist as I spread them wide. Lips designed to moan

douchebag, King Milton had a big mouth, especially when he drank. It was at a poker game a few months befo

my skin crawl and my hands close to fists. But he hadn't. "No

aging, slovenly piece of shit like Milton. And that sweet little rose between her thighs deserved to be pluck

me. Not fuc

anymore. There wasn't going to be a wedding, not a

as I imagined carrying her off to my own castle, and claiming her myself - as my queen, and in my bed. My pulse hammered, standin

to take her away

o more waiting. No more biding my time. No more not feeling h

, she'd