The Prince's Mistress

Ice and Fire

CHAPTER 2

Prince Harry's POV

I'm the worst possible thing.

I sat at the edge of the bed tired and hating myself.

Her words still rang in my head.
How could I be so heartless?
Even I thought I had limits.

I wasn't even thinking. It was dark and she felt so..good. Warm... enchanting almost. The burn I felt for her only cooling as I

I pulled her into me, putting all of me inside her..she gasped and tightened her grip on my arm. I told her because I was the prince.

My stomach lurched and I crashed to my knees. Emptying my stomach on the floor, and then into a near by plant.

I am no prince.I am scum. I raped her.. Why did .... I do that. Why did I have to be like.. HIM.
Just like him....

I put my head in my hands. The party raged underneath me. Everybody oblivious to what I'd done just moments before...The whole scene kept replaying in my head.

She looked so beautiful in her dress...dancing without a care. I remember that I'd  seen her earlier today at the cliffs below the beach. She was playing in the water like a child and I watched intrigued. It was the most peculiar thing to witness. Around the palace she usually has this resting face of indifference , always in another world. But, right then she was free as can be cartwheeling through the sand. Teeth set inside glimmering brown lips. Her thick thighs conceding to gravity with every flip, there was a giggle. I was happy watching her, a feeling I didn't get as much either and I had to have an excuse to talk to her...

I called her a servant and she ran from me...
I felt terrible. I couldn't remember the last time I'd addressed her, just to open my idiot mouth and say that.

I wanted to hate her all this time.
Obviously. I just couldn't muster up the decency to be kind to her. Whatever pridefulness had carried from before, still lingered.

When I saw her at the party I was throwing for my friend's decision to aid Sparta in this war, something deep inside me couldn't bare to keep away from her. She was the happiest I had seen her in well? Ever.

Loose. She danced with gypsies on table tops, spinning in her garment. She never saw me, of course I was an irrelevant part of her life. But I'd always made sure to be sat or standing where I could sneak a glance at her full willowy black hair whipping around her face as she pushed and pulled her hips across the room. The burning in my stomach tugged me in her direction.

Some part of of me decided I HAD to have her in my arms that night. To stop the burning of course.

No oracle could have told me I'd do THIS though.

I lost track of her somehow during the night. She wasn't with the other servant women, sitting on the stone floor, legs topping one another for warmth while sharing a bowl of grapes and goat cheese.

I worried. Why? If I couldn't have her I'd surly have a number of the other women at this party. Surely the dancer who'd been shaking her large breast in my face all night was a great candidate.

...yet

I worry.

I ripped my way through to the kitchen, empty. The gardens? It was far too dark. The burning in my stomach spread up to my throat. I made up all kinds of wild conspiracies as to why I needed to find her.
She needed to still work the party? Leaving our guests was rude maybe? Yes! She'd trip on her skirts and fall down a well!
All if I didn't find her.

The rooms!

A voice not like my own in my head told me.
I wasn't sure why I'd thought that. There's no way she'd risk a flogging by sleeping in one of our beds like that. But I should lay my head I thought. I was sober enough but this burning? It wasn't drunkenness that caused this.