The King's Cursed Bride

Never Enough

The Next Day

Elon tugged on her corset laces. "Still too loose?"

Carissa nodded, keeping her hands planted on the vanity's edge, trying to control her breathing. She was beginning to second-guess her decision to break her fast with the nobles this morning, but it was a bit late to change plans. "Just a bit tighter. You could have the lady-in-waiting do this, you know."

He tied her laces. "I don't see why I should delegate the task to her when I'm just as capable."

"Because a lady-in-waiting's purpose is to wait on her lady."

"But a husband's purpose is to wait on his wife, and as your husband, I get priority." Carissa watched Elon in the mirror as he strode to their bed and studied the gown splayed across it, his hands on his hips.

She glanced at her own face and attempted a smile, but it withered before it could come into full bloom. Yesterday had been beyond humiliating, and no doubt rumors of her still ran rampant among the nobles. Now that she was queen, whatever she did was reflected onto Elon. When her behavior had shamed her mother, her mother had disowned her. Elon likely wouldn't do the same, but still... She wanted to make him proud.

Perhaps she could use breakfast as damage control for yesterday's fiasco.

Elon continued, "And besides, the more time I get to spend with you, the more training opportunities we have." He picked the gown up by its shoulders. "Now, do you step into this or do I slip it over? I can't decide."

Carissa turned. "Training?"

"Of course. We'll have combat training, naturally, but I promised you earlier I'd help you become more accustomed to my touch, didn't I?" He waggled his eyebrows, and she couldn't help but laugh. Though her knotting stomach didn't leave much room for an appetite, somehow he knew how to make her feel... lighter.

"Yes, you did. What do you have planned for our first lesson?"

Elon's smile was crooked—a half smirk edged with mischief. "I'm hoping playing as your nursemaid would help—"

"Nursemaid?"

"But that's only phase one of my plan, you see. For the second phase, I was thinking of something like foot play."

Her expression twisted. "Foot... play? Is that a ball kicking game?"

"Not quite." He peered down at the dress he held. "Pulling the dress over your head will take longer. Stepping into it seems the simplest route." He loosened the laces, until the back of the dress gaped wide open.

Carissa clutched Elon's shoulders for balance as she stepped into the dress. "Now I'm curious. What is it?"

He pulled the dress up her figure and helped her wriggle her arms into the sleeves. "The concept is quite simple. It only requires a man, a woman, and a table."

"Why a table?"

"It's supposed to be more fun to play underneath."

"Underneath? Are we to crawl under the table?" Elon's game sounded rather... strange.

"No. We nudge each other's feet." Elon finished tying the dress with a final tug.

He had to be joking. Carissa whirled to face him. His smirk seemed to be more flirtatious than teasing. "That's disgusting."

Laughter surged from Elon's lips, and he shook his head. "Perhaps."

"What do you mean 'perhaps'?"