Mature content ahead.

❥ CHRIS ❥

There was no need to glance at Sarah to know I was at the top of her hit list. The way she kept muttering under her breath was a dead giveaway. I could practically feel the curses she was sending my way. It took all my willpower not to chuckle, especially when I noticed a man hurrying towards us.

His eyes were wide, trying and failing to mask his surprise. I recognized him instantly. Andrew, the manager of this restaurant, and the last person my brother Elliot spoke to.

He was young for a manager if you ask me. I was so used to seeing old men in these roles–men who looked like they survived on cigarettes for breakfast and hard liquor for dinner. But Andrew was different, probably around my age, which made his position all more curious.

“Your Highness,” he greeted, loud enough to turn heads in our direction. His eyes flicked to Sarah, lingering on the way my arm wrapped possessively around her waist. “I see you brought a guest.”

“Of course…” I glanced at his name tag for effect. “Andrew, right?” He nodded and gestured for us to follow him.

As we moved through the restaurant, I could feel eyes on us, more specifically on Sarah. And who could blame them? She looked like a fucking vixen in that dress, so damn tempting that I was fighting the urge to drag her back to the car and ravish then and there.

But she was more than temptation. From the moment those stubborn eyes first glared back at me, I knew I would be hooked.

What happened outside the restaurant wasn't planned. It was instinct— an almost primal need to stake my claim. Any man or woman who dared look at her needed to understand that she was already spoken for.

She was mine.

Maybe what we have isn't fully defined yet, but it's there, simmering beneath the surface, desperately craving to know what could happen and the more she resists, the more I want her.

She's stubborn. I like stubborn.

My hand stayed firmly on her hip, even as she tried to pull away. There was no way I was letting her go–not when her body fits so perfectly against mine, not when her sweet honey scent clouded my mind, not when those plump, red lips were just begging to be kissed.

It took everything in me to remember my promise to wait until she was desperate for my touch.

“How do you like this side, Your Highness,” Andrew's voice pulled me from thoughts as he stopped in front of a specific table. The view was stunning, with the night sky spread out before us like a canvas of stars.

“I love it.” Sarah said before I could respond, her eyes locked on the view. The soft lights from the restaurant illuminated her face, and I had to take a deep breath, satisfied that I'd made the right decision bringing her here.

“That's wonderful,” Andrew said, interrupting the moment. “Let's take you to your table,”

I didn't say anything, just nodded, guiding Sarah to the table she’d been eyeing. When we reached it, I reluctantly released her, feeling a pang of loss as she pulled away from me. I pulled out her chair, waiting for her to sit.

“Thank you,” she murmured, setting her purse on the table.

“No problem, wifey,” I replied, unable to resist.

She groaned as I took the seat opposite her, “Are you going to keep acting like this?”

“Like what?” I asked, smirking.

“So you really want to play this game, huh?” She leaned back in her chair, folding her arms across her chest, and I couldn't help but notice how it made her breast look even more enticing. The memory of my hands on those those perfect tits storms through my mind like a wave and I swallow hard to keep my composure.

Control yourself, Christopher. Get it together.

I forced myself to look away, but when I met her eyes, I saw the teasing glint in them. She was doing this on purpose.

A waitress appeared at suddenly at our table, dressed in the restaurant uniform. She handed us each a menu, explaining that we could call for any waiter when we were ready to order. Then she placed a bottle of red wine and two glasses on the table, mentioning It was a gift from the manager since a royal was dining in their restaurant.

She didn't say the last part in fact she didn't need to. Because that was the only reason the manager would think of gifting us.

One always needs to be famous to get such privileges. It's sad but that's life.

“Now this is fancy,” Sarah said, her eyes lighting up as she stared at the wine.

What she did next shocked me.

She rested her chin on her hand, her elbow propped on the table, and looked at me with a playful grin.

Tilting her head slightly, she but her lower lip before saying in a low, seductive Voice. ”Open it for me would you? Honey. ”

The way she said that word, Honey, while biting her lips, sent my mind spiraling.

I couldn't help but laugh, trying to control my cock from becoming semi-hard “I thought you didn't want me acting like your fiancè.”

She rolled her eyes,”Open the damn wine Chris or I’ll get someone else to do it,” she said, looking around the room. Her gaze settled on someone across the way, and smirked. ”Someone who will do it without question.”

I clenched my jaw tightly as I narrowed my eyes at her, feeling that familar possessiveness flare up inside me. She wanted to play games? Fine. But she was about to find out just how seriously I took them.

Our eyes locked in a silent, intense stare, each of us daring the other to break first. I could feel the tension crackling between us, and I knew she was playing some kind of game. My lips parted to demand what she was up to, but before I could speak, my phone rang.

The name "Alex" flashed on the screen, and I nearly cursed out loud. "Excuse me while I take this," I said, rising from the chair. Ignoring the stares that followed me as I moved across the room, I found a secluded corner and answered the call. "Hello, my lovely sister."

Her voice came through sharp and irritated. "What's your game, Chris?"

I raised an eyebrow, pretending not to understand. "What game?"

"I was going to see Sarah, but the guards told me she went out with you."

"Ah." I leaned against the wall, my eyes drawn back to Sarah as she struggled with the wine bottle. The sight of her concentrating, unaware of the attention she commanded, was impossible to resist. "Her."

It was hard not to look at her.

"Listen, I don't care if you two go out, but remember, this is just a contract. Don’t get attached."

I think that's too late for that.

"I know," I replied, keeping my tone neutral. I couldn’t fault her for the warning. The only reason Father tolerated Sarah as my would-be wife was that there was no other heir. It stung, the lack of choice we had in our lives. And for Alex, it was even worse—after my coronation, she’d be wed to a man who was wealthy but notorious for his taste in women. He wasn’t fit for her, and it gnawed at me.

"Are you still there?" Alex’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts.

"Hmm."

"Okay, there’s another reason I called. Actually, two reasons, but I’ll discuss the first one later when we see each other." Her voice wavered, an unusual hesitance creeping in. Alex was always blunt, never shying away from delivering bad news. The hesitation set off alarm bells.

"Alright. So, what’s the other thing you wanted to tell me?" My voice trailed off as I noticed a man in a suit approaching Sarah. I’d left her alone for one second, and already some bastard was trying his luck.

Men. We’re all the same.

"What is it, Alex?" My tone grew sharper as I watched the man make Sarah smile. She tilted her head, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, exposing more of her neck and that soft, inviting skin. My jaw clenched as I saw her eyes light up in response to whatever bullshit he was saying. She was playing me, trying to make me jealous—and it was fucking working.

"I think I found Elliot," Alex’s words yanked my attention back to the call.

"What? How?"

"You remember when I hired a private detective? Well, he called this evening. He thinks he found someone who looks like Elliot, but he’s not sure. He’ll send pictures later, and if it’s him, we can start tracking his movements."

Hope flickered in my chest, but I forced it down. After five years of silence—no letters, no messages, nothing—there was finally a lead. But I couldn’t let myself get carried away.

Not yet.

"That’s good," I said, keeping my voice steady. "We’ll talk more when I get home."

"Okay," she replied, sounding as tired as I felt. We exchanged goodbyes, and I returned to Sarah, who was now alone with a glass of wine.

"I see you found a way to open it," I remarked, doing my best to hide the jealousy simmering beneath my words.

She nodded, clearly pleased with herself. "Don’t blame me. I specifically asked someone to help, but he acted like he wasn’t ready, and I did say I’d find someone who would."

I rolled my eyes. "Right. You fucking did."

"Oh, come on now," she teased, leaning forward, her chin resting on her hands as she gazed at me with those mischievous eyes. "Don’t tell me you’re jealous."

I clenched my jaw. "I don’t need to tell you—" My voice faltered on the spot as I felt her leg brush against mine under the table, trailing up my thigh with agonizing slowness.

"What the fuck are you doing?" I hissed, glancing around the room, relieved that the tablecloth hid her actions from prying eyes.

"Payback, of course," she whispered, her leg coming to rest against my growing arousal, applying just the right amount of pressure to drive me crazy. I gripped the table, my hips involuntarily responding to her teasing touch.

"S… Stop," I ordered, my voice strained as she continued to stroke me, her movements slow and deliberate, pushing me closer to the edge with each passing second.

"Make me," she challenged, her voice dripping with seduction. "You know you could just remove my leg."

She knew I wouldn’t. She knew I’d been dreaming of this—of her touching me, wanting me. If this was her way of getting revenge, I’d take it. I’d fucking savor it.

"It’s on, Princess," I growled, a smirk twisting my lips despite the pleasure she was inflicting on me. I had to keep my composure, keep a straight face, or else everyone would notice—and I’d lose. But this kind of painful pleasure was exactly what I needed.

"If you want me to stop," she said with a wicked smile, "you should say sorry."

"Apologize, Chris." she pressed her foot deeper this time, making me fucking. gods.

I let out a low laugh, meeting her gaze head-on, unyielding. "No."

"Stubborn as ever," she murmured, raising her hand to signal a waiter. "Then I'll just have to up the stakes."

For fuck's sake.

A male waiter appeared almost instantly, asking what she would like to order. All the while, her foot continued it's relentless assault on my cock, moving faster and faster until beads of sweat formed on my forehead. I was on the brink of losing control, so damn close to releasing, and then–she slowed down, making me curse under my breath.

She was toying with me and the worst part? I was loving every second of it.

The waiter turned to me, his polite expression betraying no hint of the turmoil beneath the table. "What would you like to have, Your Highness?" he asked, his tone respectful, oblivious.

How the hell was I supposed to answer that with her foot stroking my most sensitive spot?

"I..." My voice nearly cracked, my hips subtly following the rhythm of her insistent touch. She was too good at this—so good it stirred a possessive anger in me, imagining the men before me who might have felt this same pleasure. Normally, the thought would’ve enraged me, but I was too consumed by the raw, electric sensation she was giving me.

"Go on," she murmured, tilting her head to the side, her expression angelic despite the devilish game she was playing. My devil. "Place your order."

My unsteady breathing didn’t go unnoticed by the waiter. His voice wavered, and I saw the flush of discomfort on his neck. He couldn’t see what was happening under the table, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he sensed the tension. "A-Are you okay, sir?"

I clenched my jaw, trying to keep my voice steady. "I’ll have whatever.... she’s having." The words came out as a growl, my patience thinning by the second.

This was fucking torture.

The waiter nodded hastily, almost stumbling as he turned to leave, finally allowing me to focus entirely on Sarah. "Stop this. Now."

I saw the faint shiver that ran through her, her pupils dilating as the command in my voice hit her. She was feeling this too—just as much as I was. She was barely holding on, and I could see it in her eyes.

Just give in and Let me take you to heaven with my cock.

"First, say the magic words," she taunted, slowing her movements only to speed them up again, pushing me closer to the brink.

"Fuck," I hissed, closing my eyes as the pressure mounted. I felt the slickness of precum almost seeping through my trousers, and that was it—I couldn’t hold back anymore.

"I’m sorry." She won. "You happy now? I’m sorry for the way I acted outside."

Her foot finally retreated, and I exhaled in relief. She smirked, clearly satisfied as she adjusted herself in her seat. "What a good boy you are."

She’s crazy. I love crazy.

"You’re nuts," I muttered, barely holding back a laugh despite the fact that my cock was still rock-hard, throbbing with the need for release.

"Me?" she gasped, feigning innocence. "You’re the one who couldn’t just say sorry. You think it’s easy putting my foot through that? My leg hurts now."

"I could massage it, if you want," I offered, the words coming out before I could stop them.

That made her laugh—really laugh—and for the first time, she wasn’t rolling her eyes or hiding that breathtaking smile.

"You’re so beautiful," I found myself saying, the words slipping out without thought. Her laughter froze, her eyes widening slightly. "So beautiful that I can’t stop thinking about touching you, Sarah."

Her chest rose and fell, her lips parting slightly, making me ache to feel them on me. I wanted to know how it would feel to have those eyes looking up at me while I claimed her.

"Then keep thinking," she stammered, tearing her gaze away from mine, but I caught the tremble in her voice.

"You don’t want me to touch you, Sarah?" I asked, my voice a low growl, seeing the way she gulped, still avoiding my eyes.

"How about you touch me? I need to cum. Badly, Sarah." I didn’t care if I sounded desperate; she needed to know how much I wanted her, how much I needed her.

She stared at me for a moment, even as the waiter returned and placed our orders on the table. She didn’t stop, and then finally, she broke.

"Fine," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. A smile tugged at my lips. "But you won’t touch me. I mean it, Christopher."

"You’re in charge," I agreed, trying to lighten the mood, though I could see the battle raging in her mind. Something was holding her back, but whatever it was, I’d break through it.

I’d break her.

She sighed, relief softening her features. "Fine, but after dinner. I’m starving, and don’t even think about complaining." She glared at me, trying to sound intimidating, but all it did was make my cock throb harder.

"Of course. Let’s talk about something to pass the time," I suggested, settling back into my chair, trying to mask the urgency thrumming through me.

"Sure," she replied, shrugging as she picked up her fork, preparing to eat. "

A slow grin spread across my face as I leaned in, my voice low and full of dark promises. "How long can you keep your mouth on my cock before I cum down your throat?"

....

I NEED A MAN LIKE CHRISTOPHER 😭

HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS CHAPTER ❤️