Rebecca’s POV

​"I’m ready," I whispered, my voice trembling.

​He didn’t waste another second. Ethan reached for the hem of my maid’s gown and pulled it up over my head in one swift motion, leaving me standing before him in nothing but my thin lace panties. His eyes raked over my body as if he were memorizing every curve, every inch of skin.

​"God, you’re beautiful," he growled.

​He moved to the small bar in the corner of his room, his movements fluid and powerful. I watched, confused, as he grabbed a single crystal ice cube from a bucket. He walked back to me and pushed me gently back onto the sheets of his bed.

​"Ethan?" I breathed, my heart thundering against my ribs.

​"Shh," he murmured. He sat on the edge of the bed and leaned over me. He took the ice cube and began to rub it slowly around my right nipple. I let out a sharp gasp, my back arching as the shocking cold met my burning heat. The nipple pebbled instantly, aching for more. Then, he replaced the ice with his mouth. He sucked the frozen peak into the warmth of his throat, swirling his tongue around it until I was sobbing his name.

​He repeated the torture on the other side, using the ice to sharpen the sensation before devouring me with his lips and teeth. My hands flew to his hair, pulling him closer, my head tossing on the pillow. I was already a mess, my thighs rubbing together as a heavy ache built between my legs.

​He moved lower, his kisses trailing down my stomach, leaving a path of fire in their wake. He hooked his thumbs into the sides of my panties and stripped them off, tossing them aside. I felt exposed, my legs falling open as he knelt between them.

​Ethan looked up at me, his eyes dark and possessive. He popped the ice cube into his own mouth, cooling his tongue, and then he leaned down.

​When his mouth met my clit, I let out a scream that was muffled by the pillows. The sensation was unlike anything I had ever felt—the searing heat of his mouth combined with the sharp, numbing sting of the ice. He used his tongue to flick against me with expert precision, sucking on my folds while the ice melted against my sensitive skin.

​"Oh god, Ethan! Please!" I cried out, my fingers digging into the sheets.

​He didn’t stop. He grew bolder, sliding two fingers deep inside me to stretch me while his mouth continued its relentless assault. I was dripping, my juices mixing with the melted ice, creating a slick, messy friction that drove me over the edge. I felt the tension build, tighter and tighter, until I finally shattered. My walls clamped down on his fingers as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through me, my body shaking with the force of the climax.

​I lay there for a long time, my breath coming in ragged gasps, my skin flushed and sensitive. I felt shy all of a sudden, realizing how loud I had been and how much I had completely unraveled for him. I tried to pull the covers over myself, but he caught my hand, letting out a low, rich laugh.

​"Don’t hide," he said, his voice husky with satisfaction. "You were incredible."

​I looked up at him, my heart fluttering. God, he was so handsome. His dark hair was mussed from my fingers, and his lips were swollen from kissing me. I felt a wave of confusion. This wasn’t the man the rumors spoke of.

​"What’s wrong?" he asked, sensing my shift in mood. He pulled me into his arms, tucking my head under his chin.

​"You’re just... not what I expected," I confessed softly. "I heard terrible things about you. That you were cold, a warmonger, a man with no heart."

​He scoffed, his chest vibrating against my cheek. "Some of those things are true, Rebecca. To my enemies, I am a monster. But you are my mate. You hold my heart in your hands now. I could never be cold to you."

​He tilted my head up and kissed me deeply, a slow, tender kiss that made me relax completely in his embrace. I felt safe. I felt home.

​"So," he murmured against my lips, a playful glint in his eyes. "Why exactly did you disguise yourself as a maid? Did you not trust your future husband?"

​I blushed, hiding my face in his neck. "I wanted to spy on you. I wanted to see the real man before the wedding. I didn’t want to be a pawn in a political game."

​Ethan laughed again, a sound of pure joy. He kissed the top of my head. "Well, I think I’m already in love with the spy."

​"Me too," I whispered, my heart full.

​He kissed me one last time before pulling away with a look of regret. "Rest now, baby. I need to go check on something really important."

​I nodded, though I already hated the idea of him leaving.

​"Make yourself comfortable," he said, gesturing around the massive suite. "It’s your room now. Everything I own is yours."

​After the door clicked shut, I sat in the center of the bed, the silence of the room feeling heavy without his presence. I already missed him. I stood up and wandered over to his massive walk-in closet. I pulled out one of his white button-down shirts—it smelled just like him.

​I slipped it on, the hem falling to my mid-thighs, and climbed back into the bed. I curled into his pillows, breathing in his scent, feeling like the luckiest princess in the world. I didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, but for the first time in my life, I wasn’t afraid.

​The hours dragged by like centuries. All through the day, Ethan didn’t come back. I paced around the massive room, his oversized shirt fluttering around my thighs, feeling the lingering hum of our bond in my chest.

​It was night now, and still, there was nothing. No footsteps, no mind-link, no message. My worry began to gnaw at me. Is he okay? Did something happen? Now that we were officially mates, I knew I could reach into his mind with a simple thought, but I held back. I didn’t want to be a burden or seem clingy before our life together had even truly begun.

​Just as I was about to give in to my anxiety, a firm knock echoed through the room.

​"Come in," I called out, my heart leaping.

​The door opened, but it wasn’t Ethan.