His Favourite Maid

As my lips trailed along her neck, I noticed the mirror across the room catching my gaze. Through its reflective surface, I glimpsed her expression-a subtle, yet unmistakable sadness. Her face, though framed by grace, bore a look of discomfort, as if my touch was unwelcome.

How could a prince's love, so earnest and sincere, be rejected by someone of such humble status? My heart, once brimming with tenderness, hardened with hurt. With a sudden, harsh movement, I pushed her away

"Fine," I said, my voice tinged with bitterness. "I won't touch you again until you beg me yourself."