Page 111 of His Prince

He folds his arms across his chest and purses his lips. “And what is it? I need to know.”

I glance at Mikhail, asking for permission. He just nods so I sit up more and explain everything he told me. It’s not much, and I still have questions, but it’s enough for now. Even regurgitating the factsmakes me sick. I can’t imagine how Mikhail is feeling at this moment. How he felt all those years ago.

“And you believe him? He could be lying,” Diablo says when I finally stop speaking.

“Diablo,” I chastise. “Why would he do that?”

“Because he’s manipulative,” he retorts and then glowers at my husband. Mikhail remains silent, so I respond.

“He says Nina and Ivan know. George as well. You can ask them. But I know it’s true.”

Diablo huffs and then waggles his hand around at the two of us.

“I’ll be back. And if you’re lying, Mikhail Asshole Ivanov, I will end you.”

He stalks off, and I stare up at Mikhail who is watching the door slam shut. He’s not angry, not at all. He just nuzzles into me, bringing me back against him, his mouth near my ear.

“He’s so different from you and yet you’re so much alike.”

“Wearetwins.”

“Hm, you are. But I prefer you.”

I’m glad he does. I’m so fucking happy right now.

“You’re not worried about what Nina or Ivan will say?” I ask after a moment of silence.

“No, because I told you the truth. I won’t ever lie to you, little Angel.”

“I’m so glad you told me. No more secrets between us, please.”

“No more. It may take some time to tell you everything. I don’t even remember a lot of it, but I promise not to hide things.”

“Thank you,” I say and move my body on top of his. “We should shower.”

“I like you just like this, smelling of me.”

I blush and press my lips to his.

“You’re a barbarian, but I do need to go into the garden today.”

His hands massage up my back, and I sigh. “Or you could stay here with me and let me fuck you again.”

My hard dick throbs.

“Shower first,” I say and then roll off him, walking to the bathroom. Mikhail is right behind me, his hands on my hips, his eyes meeting mine in the bathroom mirror. They track across the marks he put on my skin last night and early this morning, and I can’t help but trace my fingers over them all.

“Beautiful,” he says, and I feel my eyes sting, the tips of my ears turning red.

“So are you.”

His cheeks flush, and I reach for my toothbrush, my ass hitting his groin as I move. He grunts softly but doesn’t make a move. So the two of us stand there, bodies pressed against each other, scrubbing at our teeth, watching our movements in the mirror.

When we’re done, we move to the shower, the water heating up quickly, and we step underneath it. His hands are on me within seconds, soaping me up, his lips trailing across all my exposed skin. And I do the same, dragging my teeth and tongue across his neck and chest, doing my best to leave my own marks on him. And he encourages it, holding my head against him as I suck and bite.

When my mouth finally pops off and I see the red mark on his neck, I grin, tracing it with my finger.

“You’re mine,” I whisper, and he stares down at me intently.