I was all too happy to succumb to a Prince more cruel than charming
Added 2020-09-12 23:49:33 +0000 UTC
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It had been proposed to me as a marriage of convenience, of two families coming together, of historical ties bound forever. He was described to me as my one true āPrince Charmingā. Of course, on meeting my Prince at the family palace for the first time I found out about his darker traits far faster than I had anticipated through his whispered tales and filthy desires away from prying eyes.
He wasnāt like the books, like the sentimental movies where he waited on the princess at every turn and where he put the glass slipper on. He wasnāt anything out of a fairytale but he was far more than I dreamed. On our second meeting outside the palace we met in his exclusive Mayfair ensuite in London, limitless champagne flowed and a delirious taste for the wicked rested on my lips. I found out what it was like to get petulant with him, to get demanding when I hadnāt earned it. I saw the flash of anger when he pinned me to the table with one hand, parting me effortlessly, letting me get a glimpse of his power as his fingers clenched my neck. My pantyhose were ripped, my flesh was hit, my hands were bound, my teeth were sunk deep into my lips and my lungs hurt with each delicious blow from his powerful hips.
He didnāt pretend to be a good man, he didnāt disguise the bruises on my neck, the marks on my wrists and ankles. He was only interested in control with me and I was all too happy to oblige, I was all too happy to succumb to a Prince more cruel than charming.
