Once Upon A Royal Matrimony

Once Upon A Royal Matrimony

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WpMetadataReadErwachseneninhaltAbgeschlossene Geschichte Di., Jan. 4, 20229h 13m
Hell freeze over when a forever bond was damned upon his head. Relationship and women in general were the last things on his mind. Interaction between humans wasn't his cup of tea let alone getting tied to someone for the rest of his life. Eden Salvatore wasn't exactly a people person. Wild, full of life, and a walking seduction. Princess Adalina was every men's royal dream. When forced into a marriage with the first man who didn't spare her a second glance, she found herself intrigued by his ignorant nature. He hurt her ego without even trying to and so she made it her life mission to break him. If only she knew, the only way into his heart was by tearing a hole through his ribcage. But, once upon in awhile, right in the middle of a cold hearted doctor and a modern princess's chaotic marriage, love gives us a fairy tale. • book three of the Salvatore's series (can read as a stand-alone) • all images in the book don't belong to me, credit to the rightful owners • cover by @myyyraa_
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"What are you?" the older man questioned, his voice a chilling blend of authority and amusement, like a knife wrapped in silk. "Your wife," I replied softly, my tone laced with the submission he seemed to crave. "No," he murmured, his lips brushing mine, the words a dark caress that sent shivers through me. "You are my doll, milaya." He towered over me, his intimidating presence both suffocating and intoxicating. The nickname, spoken in that deep, accented voice, wrapped around me like a chain I couldn't help but love. "You are the only woman who is allowed to warm my bed at night," he said, his voice a dark melody, smooth but unnerving. "The only woman who's allowed to step into my office and bend over my desk, waiting for me to come home so I can fuck you." A cold, low chuckle rumbled from his chest, the sound as sinister as it was intoxicating, sending shivers down my spine. ♡ Dimitri Mikhailov, the russian mobster. His presence filled the room like a storm. He didn't have to move or speak to dominate the room. Broad-shouldered and imposing, his scarred face told a thousand stories that he'd never waste words on. He was my husband and I was his precious doll.

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