Owned By the Prince by Tristan Rivers

Chapter 4

Prince Maximillion

Fuck my stupid friend and his fucking coke habit. Fuck my own stupid weakness. I pound my gloved fist into the heavy punching bag, and it makes a satisfying sound. I never should’ve kissed her. Thwump. Never should’ve even entertained the idea. Thwump. What the hell was wrong with me? I had a whole roomful of girls who would’ve fucking begged me to do whatever I wanted with them. To satisfy my every need. And at every other party I’ve attended, I’ve done just that.

But not tonight. No, tonight, I took one look at Blair standing there at the reception desk, blushing, and my cock got hard. And that was it. Every other female in the place faded to gray. All I wanted was her. That pert little body, hips swaying in her tight little skirt, sweet tits pushing at her shirt. Those eyes—like laser beams. I’ve never seen eyes so blue and striking before. Narrow, intelligent, with those sooty-black lashes. And she was so pure and cool—not at all like the attention-hungry girls I usually meet. She was just what I needed to quench my six-month-long drought. But even then, I had some restraint, goddamnit. I knew she was off-limits. And then, Jamie. Not breathing. His nose fucking crusted with that filthy powder. I breathed air into his lungs, pumped his chest, and he came to life again. What a fucking hero. I spit on the floor in disgust, then I aim a volley of fast one-two punches at the bag.

Blair was so freaked out it touched me. She’s not from this world. She doesn’t understand doctors acting like secret security agents, winching my stupid drug-addict friend out of the window so no-one’s party gets spoiled. She doesn’t understand the danger she’s in. Her eyes were so clear when she told me she wouldn’t breathe a word. And I want to trust her, I do.

But I can’t. I can’t trust anyone outside of my circle of the rich, famous and titled, as recent experience has taught me in fucking high definition. So Blair is caught in the middle. She doesn’t know it, but her life will never be the same again. I’ve got to protect her—in the only way I know how.

I clench my teeth and pound the punching bag until my muscles are spent. At last, I stop, breathing hard, arms trembling. When I turn my head and look for Fariba, she lifts her muzzle from the ground where she’s been lying, tail wagging hopefully. When I whistle, she lets off a joyous bark and bounds up to me, dancing on two legs. I pet her, tell her she’s the best girl in the world. Then I grab a fresh towel from the shelf and wipe myself down before heading upstairs with a heavy heart, ready to plan the inevitable.