Page 43 of The Royal in Room 3

Me: He’s not ready.

Phoenix: Isn’t he? Or are YOU not ready? Have you turned that boy into a sex slave?

Me: You know me better than that. Trust me, Phoenix. He’s just not ready.

Phoenix: What’s the problem? Did he break another dish?

Me: Worse. He almost killed himself in my workshop today, and to save him, I knocked the original carved crest rail from a nineteenth-century dining chair off the bench.

Phoenix: The hand-carved walnut set?

Me: Yeah.

Phoenix: Jude, you told me those chairs are worth more than my car.

Me: The set is. The rail can be repaired. Eventually.

Phoenix: He must feel terrible about it.

Me: I actually lied and told him it wasn’t important.

The three little dots started and stopped several times before a message popped up from Phoenix.

Phoenix: You really care about him, don’t you?

Me: I do, but I would have done the same for any sub.

A knock sounded on the door, and I looked up to find Soren standing in the threshold, skin glistening after his shower. He was wearing a camisole that showed off the definition in his arms and the bottom half of his pajamas. I loved that he wasn’t a skinny boy. There was a lot of him to hold on to when I was buried deep inside him.

“You wanted to see me, Daddy,” he said nervously.

We’d had sex almost every night since he’d moved in with me, but only in his bedroom, as stated in the terms of our agreement. After the act, we cuddled and talked until he fell asleep, and then I’d slink back to my bedroom, wishing I hadn’t made the stupid rule in the first place. I wanted to wake up with him in my bed, my arms around him and his face the first thing I saw when I opened my eyes.

“Yes.” I got to my feet and sat on the edge of the bed. “Come on in. How was your bath?”

His eyes shifted around my bedroom, and I realized I’d given him a tour of the entire house when he’d moved in, except for this space, which I’d tried to keep to myself. Yet in pretty much the same way he’d gotten me to throw the no sex rule out the window, he had me opening my most intimate space to him.

“I didn’t get the floor wet,” he said quickly.

“That’s not what I meant, little prince.” I patted the bed beside me. “Hop up. We need to talk. It’s nothing bad, I promise.”

He shuffled over slowly, as if he didn’t believe me, and sat on the bed. I turned to face him and reached for his hand, finding his palm sweaty.

“Are you worrying about something?”

“No, Daddy.”

“Are you lying to me, boy?”

He hung his head and nodded. “I’m worried I’ve become a burden to you and you’ll send me away.”

“Soren, didn’t we already put that fear behind us earlier?”

“It came back,” he muttered. “I’ve never been in your room before. Must be serious. Right?”

“You’re right. It is.” I patted my lap. “I want you over my lap so I can spank that beautiful ass of yours as a punishment.”

His head snapped back. “What?”