An Hour Of Passion.

~Katrina~

I hugged him without thinking, just overcome by excitement over the gift he'd given me. 

Marissa had been right all along—the king actually liked me. 

The fear of him being cruel melted away the moment I saw him approaching, and I knew he wasn't here to harm me. 

Only Lady Poria's warnings echoed faintly in my mind—never let him find out your secret.

"Princess Katrina," he murmured, my name rolling softly off his lips. We were still wrapped in each other's arms, his hand sliding gently along my back, sending a thrilling shiver through me. "As much as I'm enjoying this and don't want it to end… I have to ask, what brought this on?"

I pulled back, feeling my cheeks warm as I nervously pushed a few stray strands of hair behind my ears. 

I shouldn't have hugged him—it had just felt so right in that moment.

"Please, don't feel bad," he said, reaching to take my hand, his touch steady and gentle.

That's when I noticed the roses in his hands. Were they for me? I felt a blush rise again as I remembered his question.

"Thank you for the gift," I managed, smiling shyly. 

His eyes widened, as if realizing that was the reason for my sudden embrace.

"I'm glad you liked it," he replied, handing me the roses. "Here. I thought you might like these too."

I took them, breathing in their sweet scent. "They're beautiful… You gave me a horse?"

He nodded. "Yes."

"But why?" I asked, leaning back against the oak tree as he came closer. "You gave me that incredible gift even though… I'm supposed to mean nothing to you."

He grew quiet, and I could see he understood. We were both thinking of the wedding, and all the tangled emotions neither of us dared to speak.

"It's my way of saying sorry, Princess Katrina," he said softly.

I was stunned. An apology—from him? I'd never expected it. Marissa had warned me that he didn't apologize to anyone, yet here he was. This was something new, something real.

"I never planned this wedding," King Karl continued, his voice sincere. "It was a misunderstanding, and I would never play games with you intentionally."

Even with the mask hiding part of his face, I could see the honesty in his eyes. I knew he meant it.

"If only I'd come to your room that night, like I was supposed to," he went on, regret heavy in his voice. "I would've met you, and none of this mess with Elvin would have happened."

"So you really didn't come to my room that night?" I asked, still puzzled. He shook his head, reminding me that whoever had come was still a mystery.

"And the kiss last night?" he asked, stepping closer until I could feel the warmth of him so near.

I clutched the roses, heart pounding, feeling the butterflies rising in me. 

His eyes held mine, intense and filled with an emotion I couldn't name.

"I don't regret it," he murmured. "I meant every bit of it, and I'd love to—"

I didn't let him finish. I pulled him close and pressed my lips to his, unable to resist any longer. 

He responded immediately, his arms wrapping around my waist, pulling me close. 

His kiss was slow and deep, full of a passion that set me on fire.

His lips claimed mine, his tongue exploring as a rush of warmth spread through me. 

My heart pounded, but I didn't care—I wanted more. 

This new discovery, this kiss, was like a fire igniting something deep within me.

His hands moved from my back, tracing up my neck, then sliding through my hair before drifting down to my chest. 

His lips left mine, trailing kisses along my neck, sending shivers down my spine. 

I leaned back against the tree, moaning softly, my body answering him in ways I'd never known it could.

He found the straps of my dress and began undoing them, his fingers skilled, and for a moment, a pang of jealousy sparked. 

How many times had he done this before? 

Instead of letting jealousy ruin this moment, I pushed it aside and focused on him—his eyes glued to me, or rather, to my chest. He looked stunned.

"I love them," he murmured, his lips brushing against my skin before he kissed each nipple, sucking gently.

I was in heaven, not on earth, as he squeezed me, exploring every inch with a kind of reverence.

I'd never been naked in front of a man before, but it didn't matter now. I was lost in this, in him, and I didn't want him to stop.

I let out soft moans. "Y-your highness…"

"Call me Karl," he said, more command than request.

He kept kissing, from my lips down to my breasts. It was like he was showing me a new kind of pleasure, one I hadn't known could feel this good.

Each kiss, each touch, lifted me higher, pulling me into a place that felt like pure bliss.

He looked at me with raw desire, his eyes filled with something that made my heart race. 

He leaned in, his mouth capturing my breath as he kissed my lips deeply, then moved to my neck, leaving a trail of warmth. 

His hands held me close, exploring my skin with a tenderness I hadn't known could feel so intense.

"Karl," I whispered, the name strange and thrilling on my lips. 

He paused, smiling as he heard me say it, then brought his mouth to mine again. 

My body responded, every nerve awake to his touch. 

His fingers traveled to the edge of my dress, slipping beneath, and I shivered as he touched my bare thigh. 

Slowly, he pushed the fabric aside, his hand gently sliding up until his fingers traced delicate circles, igniting something deep inside.

"Do you like this?" he asked softly, his voice warm and inviting. 

I managed a breathless "Yes," feeling heat rush to my cheeks. His lips returned to my skin, tasting, caressing. 

I let go, feeling alive in a way I'd never felt before, wrapped in his strength, his touch a new world I was ready to explore.

He was everything—strong, commanding, but gentle in a way that took my breath away. 

He grinned as I fumbled with his shirt, urging me on.

"Go ahead," he murmured, and I quickly pulled it off him.

Wow.

It was just like that day on the field—the sweat, the raw power, every muscle perfectly carved. His broad, hard shoulders made my pulse race, my skin tingle. How was a virgin supposed to resist a man who looked like this?

My hands traced over his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin, his muscles firm and powerful.

Karl was truly a devil in guise of a man!