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“You agreed to marry me, Stella. Without seeing this contract, without those discussions, without any requirements. That nullifies the need for any documentation. This will not be a marriage in name only. You will say my name, and often, because I will be your husband. You will be my wife, and I will call your name to the heavens. Our marriage might be convenient, and we may not love each other, but we have acquiesced to spend the rest of our lives together. This is not the kind of agreement that is sealed with a contract.”
Her breath caught.
“How, um, how will it be sealed?”
“I think you know, Stella.” Aleki turned and pressed his face against her stomach, his breath warm against the fabric pressed to her skin.
The heat spread through Stella’s body, tunnelling down in a tight coil towards her centre. Shifting slightly, she pressed her thighs together, trying to ease the growing ache between them.
Aleki looked up, his eyes fixing on her, hot and dark. Hungry.
“Am I making you uncomfortable, little star?”
“No.” Her breath hitched on the word, wholly unconvincing even to her own ears.
“No?” Aleki leaned forward and nudged at the buttons marching up her dress with his nose. “Perhaps a little more fresh air would settle you.” One hand reached up to toy with the button at her waist.
“The windows are open.” Need threaded through her voice, her attention too focused on where his hand met her dress to modulate it.
“So they are.” He slipped the button free, and Stella felt his large hand like a brand against her stomach as he slid under the fabric of her dress to stroke her skin.
“So soft, fafine aulelei. Tell me, are you still upset with me?”
Aleki’s fingers rose higher, tracing patterns up her ribcage and Stella forgot how to breathe.
“Gurngh,” she managed, moving just a little, because he was almost there and really, what was a relationship without teamwork?
His talented fingers divested another button from the confines of its hole and the fabric of her dress gaped open across her torso, any modesty she had left protected now only by the remaining button over her chest.
Aleki’s thumb skimmed the underside of her breast, a delicious friction against the lace of her bra and she watched, mesmerised, as he bent his dark head to her exposed midriff. The hot, sweet stripe of his tongue glided up towards her aching breasts, and Stella lost all patience entirely and ripped open the final button, spreading the lapels of her dress wide and clutching at the silky strands of Aleki’s hair.
“Don’t stop.”
A rough chuckle tickled against her sternum.
“I have no intention of stopping, little star.”
Soft kisses peppered the delicate skin of her breasts, moving closer and closer to - there.
The liquid heat of Aleki’s mouth closed around her nipple and Stella dizzied from the combination of relief and gratitude. He tugged at the tip with his lips, his clever fingers reaching up to pluck at its twin.
“Oh God, yes, like that.” Stella arched up, pushing herself forward into his hands, his mouth.
He sucked deeper, his tongue lapping at her nipple and sparks shot through Stella, crackling along her skin and settling between her legs.
“Does that feel good, fafine aulelei?”
“Stop talking!”
A warm puff of air sailed across the tender tip of her breast, followed quickly by the rasp of Aleki’s jaw as he nuzzled the delicate curve.
“You are so used to being in control, Stella. It’s time to relax and let your man take care of you.”
Soft teasing bites alternated with gentle licks as Aleki transferred his attention to her other nipple. The rhythm of the soothe-and-scrape dulled her hearing into a heavy throb of lust, narrowing the entirety of her world focus to his mouth and the magical things he was doing to her. She was so focused on his mouth she nearly missed the glide of his hand up her thigh until he was squeezing the curve of her hip with an intensity that might have hurt if she wasn’t riding a Keith-Richards-level high of pure lust.
Aleki’s fingers flexed again, as hot as a brand, finally pulling some of her attention from the miracle of his mouth, which he conveniently raised to plead with her in a pleasingly ragged voice.
“Can I touch you?”
“Jesus Fucking Christ, yes.” Stella squirmed, seeking his fingers, and sagged back against the lush coverlet with a whimper of relief as his thumb dragged slowly up the damp fabric of her underwear.
“Little star, if you’re going to say any man’s name while my hand is in your pants, you need to make sure it’s mine.”
His thumb circled the bundle of nerves, firm and unforgiving, flooding her with pleasure that fanned out, up her arms, down to her toes, behind her eyelids.
The swell of pressure built, climbing higher and higher with each delicious press of his fingers, the hot, wet glory of his tongue against her neck and the whisper in her ear.
“O outou o a’u. You’re mine. You’re mine.”
Aleki slid one finger inside her, then a second, filling her and rubbing her and whispering his claim and Stella fisted her hand in the cover and forgot about everything else in the world.
“Open your eyes, little star.” He met her gaze, his stare devastating, intensity pouring off him in waves. Press, delve, rub.
Oh shit, oh shit, so good.
“Mine.”
And her world exploded.
* * *
Aleki layin a patch of warm sunlight and thought about Bosnian war crimes. When he was no longer in danger of coming in his pants, he glanced over at Stella. The top of her dress was still open, the bottom hiked up around her hips and a sliver of cream lace on display over the curve of her thigh. He hadn’t even caught a peek of her underwear earlier. Her eyes were closed and her lush mouth curved in a beatific smile. The sight of his woman sated by his hand caused a thud of possession to pound in Aleki’s chest like a deep, politically incorrect drum. Tension had ridden him like an unbridled stallion since the meeting with his father. A session in the gym had helped, but it was no match for Stella. As soon as he’d seen her lolling on her bed, his heart had lightened. She was worth every harsh word from the king, and more, because she had agreed to marry him and have his baby. And now, lying in the mid-afternoon light with the echoes of her cries still ringing in his ears, any residual anxiety had evaporated completely.
“So we’re getting married.”
It wasn’t a question, but he answered anyway.
“We are.”
“Properly married.”
“As married as two people can be.”
“No contracts.”
