The Young King's Old Maid

The Young King's Old Maid

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WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing3h 43m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Fri, Nov 10, 2023
King Nikolov of Romanovia needs a queen, to warm his bed, to be his plaything. And later on be the mother of his children, by the responsibility bestowed upon him. There are plenty of fish in the sea. The royals, the elites, the rich. But those do not excite him anymore. What his people don't know is that he had already set his sights on someone of a very low position in his kingdom. A voluptuous, meek, and innocent woman cleaning his chambers. Sometimes hardheaded, but always his. But here's the catch. He's 23. She's 35. Could he trap her in his knightly yet ungentlemanly ways and make her his queen? By hook or by crook he will. Nikolov always wins. She is his crown after all. ••••••••••••••••••••• TRIGGER WARNING: Depiction of sexual abuse, descriptive mature content, violence, and strong language. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.
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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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