King's Virgin Read Online Free PDF

another surprise—a
large, cloth bag. Setting the books aside, she pulled out balls of
yarn, spools of thread, cloth, and needles.
    “ How
generous,” she murmured, running her hands over a particularly
vibrant ball of yarn—the green was the exact shade of her eyes.
The King hadn’t made any excuses when she’d hurled her
accusations at him, but his behavior belied them all the same. She
hadn’t expected him to be so… tender? She wasn’t
sure that was the right word. But he was certainly being very kind to
her considering that this was supposed to be her punishment. When
he’d first declared that she was to be his mistress, she’d
envisioned being locked away in some dark chamber, perhaps even
chained and at his mercy. But although she was locked away, her
chambers were spacious, and she was allowed to live in comfort.
    And she
didn’t have to deal with the obnoxious Lady Grey anymore. Oh,
what a boon this was turning out to be!

    ****
    Weeks passed, in
which King Lyon made love to her regularly, saturating her life with
pleasure. Often she would spend the waning hours of the afternoon in
a state of lustful anticipation, awaiting his arrival. He had become
an addiction to her—she loved the feel of his hands and mouth
on her, the way his calluses scraped against her smooth skin, his
husky groans of pleasure.
    Even more, he made
her feel cherished. Oh, there were no words of love from him, and she
expected none. But he lavished her with gifts—a jeweled comb
here, a ruby necklace there, a gilt rose. He still refused to provide
her with a more modest wardrobe, but she’d grown used to
wearing the low-cut, form fitting gowns. It wasn’t as though
anyone else ever saw her, and the hot, hungry look that fired his
eyes when they alighted on her cleavage was worth it. She loved it
when he looked at her like that.
    Nevertheless, she
still missed her family. Often she would wake in the middle of the
night after having a particularly lovely dream about them, and the
reality of her situation would crash down upon her shoulders. She
couldn’t stop the tears from coming during those times, and it
was worse if Lyon happened to be abed with her. He would offer her
wordless comfort, never once asking as to what troubled her, and it
was awful because she both cared for him and despised him for keeping
her from those she loved most.
    Lyon knew all this,
of course, and every day that passed the guilt grew stronger within
him. For he had come to care for her deeply as well, and it was not
easy for him to see her suffer. He’d intercepted a letter from
her mother, and upon opening it was surprised at the warmth in the
greeting—the words were infused with love and gratitude,
certainly nothing he’d ever received from his grandfather. And
there had been no hint of deception, no evidence to suggest that
either of them were plotting against the Crown. It was petty of him
to continue to hold her, and though he was no stranger to committing
petty acts, this one nagged at his conscious.
    He came to her that
afternoon, bearing a manila envelope.
    “ What is
that?” Cordova asked, frowning uneasily. She disliked the
melancholy look in his eyes.
    Lyon handed it to
her. “See for yourself.”
    Cordova opened the
envelope and carefully unfolded the letter. Her jaw dropped as she
scanned the contents—it was a proclamation declaring her
cleared of all charges and released from her sentence.
    “ You…”
she lifted her shocked gaze to him. What could she say to this, when
she wasn’t sure herself as to how she felt about it?
    Lyon shrugged. “You
are released from your service to me. I know you have been wishing to
return to your family.”
    She should be
ecstatic but with a torrent of emotions swirling inside of her heart,
she could barely find the words. “I don’t know what to
say.”
    Lyon arched a brow,
a hint of a smile on his face. But his eyes, blank of all emotion,
told the true story. He didn’t care one way or the