•••
“A king on his knees doesn’t lose his power. He reclaims it—in love.”
•••
Upstairs, Aamirah stirred from her restless sleep, a light fever still clinging to her skin like a second layer. Her body ached, but it was her lower half that bore the brunt of the pain. She winced as she shifted her weight, hissing softly when the bruised flesh of her arse made contact with the mattress.
Her eyes blinked open slowly to find Aleena sitting on the carpet with the baby in her lap, giggling softly as she played with him. Upon noticing Aamirah waking, Aleena gave her a bright, innocent smile.
"Good afternoon," she said cheerfully.
Aamirah blinked. "Afternoon?" Her eyes shot to the clock on the wall. It was well past 1 p.m.
Oh no. Panic crept in. She had slept too long—far too long. This wasn’t her house. What would his family think? What if they’d been waiting for her? What if they thought she was lazy or inconsiderate?
Her voice came out rough and hoarse when she tried to speak—a consequence of her crying and the fever. Embarrassment bloomed on her cheeks. She looked a mess, her dupatta nowhere in sight, her throat dry, her body aching and sore in places she didn’t want to acknowledge.
Aleena must’ve read the rising panic in her eyes. "Relax," she said gently. “Sir made it clear that no one is to disturb you. He said you need rest. And don’t worry about breakfast—I'll ask the maids to bring it here."
Aamirah tried to form a sentence, her shame tying her tongue. “Had someone... I mean... did they say...”
Aleena’s smile widened knowingly. "No one dares question him. And... he really loves you, you know."
The words made Aamirah freeze.
He really loves you.
A confused heat crept up her neck. Her eyes darted to the side, where her dupatta was still thrown over the armrest. Her fingertips instinctively flew to her throat—where the memory of his kisses had bloomed into red lovebites, stark against her soft skin.
Her neckline was too wide; she hadn't even realized how far down his brutal marks had traveled. Panic surged as she remembered Aleena’s blush, the glint of amusement in her eyes.
Oh my God.
She wanted to disappear.
Without another word, she practically scrambled off the bed—ignoring the soft hiss of pain—and hurried to the bathroom. "Please change the baby," she muttered before disappearing behind the door.
Inside, she stood in front of the mirror and gasped. The marks weren’t subtle. They trailed from her neck, across her collarbone, and even lower... her neckline had exposed more than she'd intended. She groaned and covered her face with her palms.
What must Aleena think of her? Of them?
Aamirah stepped under the shower, letting the cool water run down her heated skin. The shame clung to her, but so did something else—memories. His rough hands, so unyielding the night before, had turned gentle when tending to her. She remembered the sensation of the antiseptic gel being rubbed softly into her bruised ass. The way his fingers lingered with a tenderness that contradicted the pain he had caused. How can he touch her 'there'? Does he really have no shame?
But she couldn't forget that he was the one who inflicted that pain.
Was she going mad? How could her heart flutter at such moments, when her body still bore the evidence of his cruelty?
YOU ARE READING
𝐂𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐁𝐲 𝐕𝐨𝐰𝐬
Romance••• "Just because I haven't touched you as a husband should, that doesn't mean I won't," he said, his voice low and menacing. Her knees felt weak, and she didn't dare move from where she stood, his presence overwhelming her completely. She could b...
