I know Dane is upset too. He looked up to my dad, he respected him. It was now Dane’s turn to lead, not just the men that fought for us, but everyone. Times were changing. I knew how to run the castle, Dane knew how to lead the men. Together, we were going to do this.
We had no choice.
“You need to eat Olivia,” he tells me for the third time. “It’s been a week. You need to get out of bed.”
I roll over onto my back and stare up at him, standing there with a tray of food in his hand. I can see thick, chunky bread with fried eggs. My stomach rumbles on cue. I make myself sit up and scoot back so I’m sitting upright, leaning back against the wall.
“Thanks,” I reply, my voice husky.
He sits down next to me and hands me the food. “I had no idea how much your father had to do on a daily basis until today. Everyone with every problem comes to me and asks how to solve it,” he says, looking frustrated. He runs his hands through his hair, which is loose and at his shoulders.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I should have been helping you.”
He shakes his head. “You’re hurting. I get it.”
“Tell me what needs to be done.”
I wasn’t usually emotionally weak, but this was my dad.
Dane sighs. “We need to decide what fruit and vegetables to grow that will last the season. The women in the kitchen are asking what meals we want prepared for the week. I’ve sent the men to patrol around the walls, just to see what’s out there. Just to be safe.”
“They aren’t out there?” I ask him, my voice breaking.
“Sometimes,” he replies. “A shot to the head will end them. Or cutting their head off. My men know what to do.”
I knew that. Sam had taught me exactly how to kill a zombie, if I ever came across one. They couldn’t get over the walls, so we were safe here. Nothing could penetrate these walls. The only weak point we had was the gate we used to come and go, and that was always heavily guarded.
“I will handle the crops, and the women in the kitchen. If anyone has an issue, tell them I will choose two days of the week and see them all then. We can sort out any minor disputes or problems anyone is having.”
“Are you sure?” he asks. “You can take more time if you need it.”
“I’m sure,” I tell him, picking up the bread and taking a huge bite. “I’m not helping anyone by staying in bed and feeling sorry for myself.”
“It’s understandable,” he replies quietly.
Dane nods, grinning. “Olivia.”
“Yes Dane?”
“Good to have you back sweetheart.”
My lips lift in a smile. The first one that’s been on my face since I heard about my dad. “Good to be back.”
A piece of my heart would always be missing.
But I had people to lead.
I wasn’t a princess anymore.
I was Queen.
Chapter Eleven
One Month Later
He slides into me slowly from behind, gripping my hips and thrusting rhythmically. He takes his time with me, and I don’t know which I love more; the slow love-making, or the hard, rough sex. It was just him. I love Dane, and I think he might love me back, but he hasn’t said the words which makes me question things. Increasing his thrusts, it looks like I’m getting both sides of him tonight. When he grabs both my arms and holds them behind my back, so I’m purely as his mercy, it feels so good that I want to cry. I love it when he takes control.
“Harder Dane,” I plead.
He bites the side of my neck. “You’ll take what you’re given Olivia.”
I would, but still…
“Dane--”
“Love fucking you,” he grits out, sweat from his forehead dripping onto my back. Wasn’t the proclamation I wanted, but I’d take it.
“Who are you Olivia?” he asks, letting go of my arms and reaching out his arm to play with my clit.
“I’m yours,” I pant, feeling myself on the verge.
“Yes you are,” he replies, smugness in his tone. “My Queen. And I want my queen to come in my mouth.”
Flipping me over, he slides to his knees and goes down on me, his tongue making me orgasm in seconds.
“Shit,” I whisper, pleasure overriding my system, filling my body. “Shit, shit, shit.”
Before I can come back to myself, he’s sliding back inside me. Biting on my lower lip I watch him as he comes. Half-lidded hazel eyes peer down at me.
“Hi,” I whisper, smiling, now feeling sated and sleepy.
“Hi,” he echoes, kissing my lips and then my forehead. “You okay?”
“Perfect.”
“You feel perfect,” he says, pushing his hips forward and then retreating.