DA_Aloera

A princess's duty is to be beautiful, quiet, not loud, to be seen and not to be heard, which was how Dahlia lived most of her life. Bound by the expectations of her title, she spent years trying to prove to her father that she was more than just a princess and capable of being more than an ornament in his court but each time she never got the chance. Instead, she was forced into a marriage of convenience with the bravest knight in all the kingdom, Reagan Hawthorne.

Dahlia thought she would use this marriage to escape the brutal crutches of her father and glide out of her cage but Reagan’s cold disdain was an unexpected prison of its own. While he waged wars on distant lands, she stayed behind, holding his household together and protecting the people he seemed to ignore. But Dahlia carried a dangerous secret. By day, she was the perfect wife. By night, she became the "Black Knight," a masked vigilante fighting for justice in the shadows.

Reagan returned, ready to focus on his personal mission: avenging his father’s death. To him, Dahlia was just another pawn in his plans—a spoiled princess he needed to tolerate. But as cracks began to form in her perfect façade, Reagan couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to his wife than met the eye.

Now, with enemies circling closer and their secrets threatening to collide, Dahlia and Reagan must confront the lies they’ve told themselves and each other. But when masks fall and truths are revealed, will their fragile bond withstand the storm—or will it shatter beyond repair?

One wound. One secret. One night that changes everything.

THE Knight’s Hidden Princess

Reagan did not give me any time to catch my breath. Before I knew what he was doing he was doing, Reagan already yanked me up by my feet, his hold on my wrist desperate and possessive as he yanked me closer towards him crushing his lips against mine, tasting, devouring.

I gasped against his lips, my hands finding his shoulders to use it as an anchor to hold myself upright. Reagan's hands was desperate and they were everywhere, grasping, pulling and tugging at the robe that I wore. There was nothing slow about his movement and before I could say anything else, Reagan turned me over so I was holding the armrest of the chair while my ass was bare to him.

My breathing grew shaky as Reagan arched my hips backwards and in one swift movement, he slammed his hips inside of me. I released a loud moan, unable to stop myself because the feeling was just too good and it was just too sweet.

What If It's Just A Ploy?