Claimed By The Tyrant King

With only a little time left before Alaric would call for her, Rosalind decided it was best to read the book from the middle as she didn’t want to go there unprepared.

She cursed herself inwardly...why was she even acting like this was something she wanted? She wasn’t doing it because she wanted to... This was all Alaric forcing her and that thought made her scowl.

Her eyes returned to the page, ’where the woman was undoing the buttons of the man’s shirt’. The description was vivid and Rosalind could see it clearly in her mind.

She imagined herself, her fingers brushing over Alaric’s chest, undoing the buttons while that infuriating smirk lingered on his lips, and a shiver ran straight down her spine.

’Then the woman kissed from his neck down to his chest, her voice low and sultry, meant to seduce’. Rosalind felt her own body respond before her brain could even protest... heat pooling in her lower belly, her toes curling, her cheeks burning.

’And then she went further, putting her legs over him, sitting on him as she kissed him again’. Rosalind slammed the book shut.

Absolutely not!

Her mind was spinning.

She couldn’t and wouldn’t imagine doing that to Alaric.

When she dared to open the book again, her eyes widened at the next passage. ’The woman was grinding against the man now, hips moving against him as their bodies pressed together’, and Rosalind’s knees nearly buckled.

She forced herself to breathe slowly, to act like she wasn’t melting into the pages, but it was impossible. She was going to embarrass herself, she could already feel it.

A thought slowly crossed her mind. Before she humiliated herself in front of Alaric, she could at least practice what she was planning to do. Not that it would come anywhere near what this book suggested, of course... this book was beyond ridiculous.

And she knew exactly who to practice with. There was only one man who annoyed her endlessly, who followed her wherever she went. Her footman.

Her heart thumped as she crept to the door. She opened it just enough to see Rowan, standing as he always did in his perfect posture and unreadable face. He hadn’t moved and hadn’t even glanced toward her, but she knew he was aware she was there.

"Come inside," she said, her voice softer and sweeter than usual, drawling just enough to feel the words hang in the air.

He didn’t move.

Rosalind’s brows furrowed slightly, but she was forced to keep herself in check. Anger wouldn’t help now as she needed his help. "I need your help with something important," she said in a firm voice that sounded more like herself.

Finally, he moved from his position and followed her inside.

She shut the door behind him and watched him take his usual place near the side of the room with head slightly lowered and silent as ever. Heat rushed to her face. She felt ridiculous for even thinking of this, but anything was better than Alaric punishing her.

She paced slowly towards him and started circling him while pretending to think with her hand on her chin. Rosalind was closer than she should be and her gaze was fixed on him like she was scrutinising him. "Come to think of it," she said softly, tilting her head, "I don’t even know your name."

Rowan remained still.

"What’s your name?" she asked again. Her voice honeyed with a dangerous and deceptive sweetness she only used when she needed something.

There was silence between them before he answered,"Rowan."

Her eyes narrowed, and a slow smile curved her lips. "Rowan?" she repeated softly, almost to herself, letting the ’r’ roll in a way that made her own skin prickle.

"Oh... Rowan." Rosalind muttered again. It might’ve sounded absolutely normal to her but any other person would’ve thought she had just moaned his name.

His gaze darkened slightly as he looked at her.

"What is it?" she asked, tilting her head and raising her brows. "Your name... sounds sweet. I think I like it," she drawled while taking a slow step closer.

He averted his gaze from her, shifting it to the wall, while his fists clenched at his sides. "If there’s nothing more, my lady... I’ll take my leave," he said in a firm voice and turned towards the door.

"Eh." She lifted a finger and pressed it against his chest. He froze, halting immediately and stepping back to the exact spot where he had been standing. She withdrew her hand slowly with a small yet controlled smile. "I didn’t say you could leave,"

Rowan didn’t know whether the lady had drunk wine or if she was simply emboldened, because she was always annoyed by him. Yet now she was invading his space... touching him and speaking things that should never have been said. He thought to himself that he’d better find a way out before word reached the king that he had lingered in the same room with one of his mistress when there was no emergency at all.

"Have you ever been with a woman before?" Rosalind asked.

He clenched his jaw and said in a tight voice, "My lady, please permit me to leave."

But Rosalind was relentless. "Have you or have you not?"

Rowan saw she wouldn’t let him go without an answer. Through clenched teeth, he said, "I haven’t."

"What?" Rosalind’s eyes widened, genuine surprise on her face. "How’s that even possible?" She muttered as if thinking aloud.

"There’s no way you haven’t... I mean, you’re tall, strong..." She tilted her head while studying him. "I believe you’re finer than most servants I’ve seen. There’s no way women don’t flock to you." She rambled on.

"Is that so?" he asked in a low voice and she nodded quietly, certain in her words.

They had been looking at each other without realizing it, and Rowan suddenly stepped closer. Rosalind’s expression changed the moment he closed the gap between them and she instinctively stepped back. Her lips parting slightly in confusion and her heart skipped a beat. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. Why was he moving closer? The usual impassive mask had shifted to annoyance and something else she couldn’t name flickered in his eyes, as if she’d crossed a line.

Her back pressed against the wall of the bed, and she froze as he blocked her path, his gaze unwavering. "Do you, my lady..." he said in a steady voice.

Rosalind blinked. "Do I... what?"

He certainly couldn’t be asking if she was... drawn to him like the others? That was absurd!

He didn’t move closer than necessary, but his presence filled the space. "Do you give me permission to leave?" He clarified.

Unable to breathe properly, her chest rising and falling rapidly, Rosalind simply nodded.

At once, he took a step back, bowed slightly, and found his way toward the door. The door clicked shut behind him, and for a moment, the room was silent.

Rosalind exhaled shakily. What just happened? she thought. How could he command such a reaction from her without even touching her?