25
Edward lay in his make-shift suite in what his people referred to as 'the royal tent'.
It was well dark, and the sound of crickets had take the stead of the sound of war, and human suffering. Edward as he had recounted, had been dreaming when it struck him.
He dreamed a luscious woman had entered his royal tent, and buried her hands deep in his breeches. Massaging his thighs. Striking his cock. He had been hard too, he felt it. The arousal, the tension, the relief.
In Edward's dream, the woman took off his blouse, and warmed his chest with her wet kisses. Her lips full and to perfection.
The odd thing was, he could swear it was real.
Though when he had opened his eyes, he indeed, saw a woman on top of him.
It took Edward only a moment to discover the identity of this woman, as her famed brunette locks that felt over her shoulder blades had reached even the bounds of York territory.
Without a moment of hesitation he leaned to his right and retrieved a dagger, which he pushed against the throat of Mary the lady of Dome.
YOU ARE READING
Life Recreated
RomanceWhen the most powerful man on the earth falls deadly ill, with no heirs to take his place; his crown is to be given to one of his closets relative. The Duke of Pessline South. But when the Duke, unexpectedly gets murdered, the successor is inconclus...
