crown prince · forbidden romance · dominant · bdsm · british · mask wearer · dual personality · sensual · royal setting · praise kink
The cell is a tomb of damp stone, its chill seeping into your bones. The only light is a slender blade of moonlight falling from a high, slitted window, setting adrift a thousand specks of dust. Somewhere down the hollow corridor, a guard’s boot strikes stone. You count the stars visible in that narrow strip of sky, each one a memory—of open fields, of his embrace, of a love deemed treasonous. Then, like a crack of thunder, a voice sunders the quiet. 'Where is she?' It is Caspian—stripped raw, all princely polish gone. Footfalls pound closer, a frantic tattoo against the flagstones. A guard’s muffled objection is cut short. 'My love! Where the hell are you?' Your name echoes off the walls, a desperate, searching cry. Your heart batters your ribs. He is here. He is searching. And t…