The Dragon Prince's Bride
Chapter 128. A rose and a thorn.

Chapter 128: 128. A rose and a thorn.

"Ahh! You bastard! You cannot just let me win, can you?! You had to drag me with you!" She rose to her knees and began punching his chest.

"Says the woman who just kicked her husband in his special place. My dear, you seem to forget that you will also lose a lot if this young man loses his function." He pointed to his crotch, indicating the young man he spoke of.

Her eyes and mouth widened with disgust and yet she blushed with embarrassment! "You are such a vulgar man, I tell you. A vulgar man! How did I ever end up marrying a man like you! Ahhhh!" She screamed, while still on her knees and slapping his chest.

"Should I remind you?" His crotch was hurting terribly and yet the cause of his pain still looked adorable while she fumed. He wanted to tease her further. "You came to spy on me, then I caught you and then I wanted to sleep with you the moment I—"

"Shut up!" She yelled, turning her head around as she covered his mouth with her palms. She had no idea if the men could understand their conversations but they were all laughing and pointing, not in a bad way, but in a way that made her feel embarrassed.

"You are such a vile man!" She hissed.

"First I was vulgar, now I am Vile? What does that make you? The fine wife of this vulgar and vile man, what does that make you? You just kicked your husband in his crotch my love, you are hardly innocent."

"Me!" She gasped as she stared at him incredulously.

"Yes, princess, you. Ouch." He tsked as he still felt the sting at his crotch.

"Me! I am a rose!"

"A rose?" He asked almost with a laugh.

"Yes, I am a precious Avelian rose." She slapped his chest again for his mocking gaze and tone.

"More like a deadly nightshade." He laughed.

"You bloody bastard! I am a rose, a beautiful flower, delicate and precious! But you my dear sir," she began poking his chest, "you are nothing but the thorny stem! Prickly, dangerous and very harmful!" ranted Neriah while still poking his chest with her index finger.

"Well you seem to forget one important detail, my love." He calmly grabbed her poking hand as he gradually rose to a sitting position while she still remained on her knees like a punishment.

"And what would that be, my fine sir?" She asked in turn.

"That the thorny stem and the rose grow together. The delicate rose and the prickly thorn, they belong together my dear." Oh he loved the look on her face. He really enjoyed her annoyed face. Especially when he was the source of her annoyance and the one who her irritation was directed at. It pleased him deeply.

"You—"

And he wanted to tease her more. "And no amount of ranting and raging will change that. You think I want to keep a witch like you?" He asked and the shock in her eyes was endearing. So much like the face of a child. He could not stop. No, he did not want to stop!

"You are a pain in the neck. If I am a thorn then you are a piece of fish bone stuck inside my neck. I cannot swallow and I can not spit it out! I just have to bear it!"

"You insolent bastard! Do you mean to say I am a burden!" Gosh she was so affected by his words. For someone who loved receiving praises as she did, he knew she was really shocked and offended by him calling her her fish bone stuck in his neck.

"Well you are no precious prize, are you?" He shrugged and released her hand that was previously poking him.

A big mistake.

Because that was it, she couldn’t take it any more! She threw herself at him with her claws ready to mar his face, but he was quicker and he caught both her hands with one of his own and pressed her heaving chest upon his. Golden eyes stared deep into hers. They were as green as the fresh leaves on an orange tree.

And at that moment, the noises around them slowly became distant. Almost as if they had disappeared. The people were blurred from their view and all they could see and hear was each other, and each other’s sharp breaths and beating heart.

He pulled her gently till she was half kneeling and half sitting upon his lap and he let go of her hands as they rested on his broad chest.

Never once breaking eye contact with her, and in his head he thought, ’she has to feel it too. The way I am feeling right now. The way my heart is racing right now, Dear Narcissus, she has to feel the same way too. With her eyes that are filled with nothing else but me right now. These eyes that are not wandering and are glued upon me and me alone, they must hold secrets of how she feels about me. They must not hate me as much as she claims to, seeing that they do not wander.’

His fingers caressed her face, and picked a strand of hair that had been flying round her face, tucking it behind her ear, "You might not be a precious prize," he whispered and he knew she heard him,"but by the heavens, you are mine." He made his intentions known, giving her a chance to turn away, but her eyes remained glued to his own and her hands remained upon his chest...

And his eyes closed as his lips fell on hers, and once again, another argument was drowned in kisses. He slipped his eyes open again and saw that her lashes had fallen over her eyes and her arms slipped around his neck.

Barak’s hands wrapped around her back and waist as his eyes fell close again and he prayed while he kissed her, ’Dear Narcissus, give her to me. All of her.’

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