Royally Rogue

Reality

Arabella

I groaned, squinting my eyes and feeling the sheets ruffle against my skin. I instinctively turned on my side to flip onto my stomach and hide my face under the pillow.

My body felt exhausted, sluggish, and numb. My muscles were sore, particularly in my shoulders.

Why? I didn't work out-

I felt my brain jolt into motion as I recounted the events of last night.

I.

Was.

Marked.

And not just by anyone... But by Xander Romanov.

King of the Rogues.

I raised myself quickly to gauge my surroundings, lifting myself onto one elbow. I was in his room. The wooden windows were open, letting in a soft breeze and a ray of sunshine. The birds outside were casually singing along as if ignoring my distress. Across the room, the dresser was in splinter, the wall behind it equally wrecked.

The soft, blue pillows and sheets wrapped me perfectly. The soft, black cotton nightgown I was wearing grazed the place between my neck and shoulder, causing me slight discomfort. I quickly gazed downward, seeing the beginnings of a very pink skinned, deep wound-

"Baby," The soft hum of the dark familiar voice sent a surge of energy through me, resigning in the place I had been marked. Tingles seem to come now even if he didn't touch me. I resisted the temptation to curl my toes out of pleasure.

I inhaled slowly, his scent becoming even more intoxicating to me.

Ooooh no. Chill. Calm down. Keep it together.

When I thought I was ready, I slowly began to turn my figure around, careful of my mark. I made sure to keep my eyes on the sheets, afraid that I'd lose all control and energy when I saw him. I was still so sluggish, that I had to settle for laying on my back. I quickly looked at the ceiling, the wood taunting me by resembling his caramel colored eyes.

"Look at me, my love." My mate spoke once more, but this time, a warm hand reached under my chin and softly turned my head into his direction... and I didn't resist.

Oh, goddess, he was a sight of beauty.

His arm was propped up by his elbow, head resting on his hand. His curly bed head was just the right amount of messy, effortlessly draping against his smooth, tan skin. A set of thick brows is what I saw next, adjacent to his round caramel beauties that sparkled with mischief. I envied his long, dense lashes that lazily hooded his eyes. His pink, perfect, lips were quirked up in a smirk. I could feel his ego being inflated by my staring, but I just couldn't stop.

He was a drink to be chugged. Yes, chugged. Gulped down hastily in fear of him disappearing. Even though I knew he'd give his left testicle to make me happy, I was still afraid of him not being satisfied.

Which was silly, because we were mates and I knew by all standards I was supposed to perfect for him.

But he was THE Xander Romanov.

The strongest Alpha I knew, apart from my father, whose jawline was sharp enough to cut. He was the biggest, scariest, and hottest nightmare anyone could have.

And I was a princess, heir to a squeaky clean throne.

These were my thoughts as I looked at him, the sheets barely covering his hips. His perfectly sculpted abs were rock hard, even in a resting position. My focus broke when my eyes followed his v-line and saw his penguin boxers peeking out from the sheets.