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“But you never loved me,” she said, dropping her eyes to his chest. Somewhere beneath the impressive muscular wall and his broad rib cage was a heart that existed purely to pump blood through his body. It was incapable of experiencing the human emotions that were attributed to most hearts, except perhaps when it came to this country.
“No.” He caught her face with both hands then, angling it towards his. “And I had no idea you were in love with me, or I would have stopped things sooner. What you wanted from me was impossible.”
It had been years ago, and she’d grappled with this reality in the past, but his admission layered fresh pain through her. She made a subtle movement, to pull away, but he wouldn’t let her. His body echoed her shift, his hands not relinquishing their grip on her face.
“But there were many things about you I did love. Your laugh, your intelligence, your curiosity, your kindness. I have always known you to be a woman who deserved the best in life. Believe me, Amelia, I echo your mother’s sentiments. That you have ended up in this circumstance is…devastating.”
Her lips parted on a small gasp.
“I swore to myself I would make you happy. You deserve this. Tell me what you need to be happy.”
“Nothing you can give me,” she responded quickly, but with sadness, because his words had chunked ice from her heart, so she looked back on her past hurt from a different vantage point. “Just promise me you’ll love our baby; that you’ll be an available and good father.”
He nodded, his eyes laced with intent. “I will.”
“Then it’s worth it.”
He groaned then, a sound rich with frustration. “It’s not enough.” He brushed his lips to hers and lightning bolts sparked beneath her skin. “Let me give you this pleasure too,” he demanded, kissing her more fully now, his tongue sliding between her lips, pleasuring her mouth in that way he had, so she whimpered, the sensory overload too much to bear. Alarm signals were blaring in the back of her mind but she resisted them, kissing him until her body was trembling with a desire only he could invoke. “When we do this, you’re happy,” he said simply, reaching for her bathers beneath the pool, letting them fall into the water.
Stop this. You’re going to get hurt.
And yet, it felt so good. So right. Just as always. She was being selfish, impetuous, and even as she knew there would be consequences to this, she didn’t care. She needed, more than anything, for him to obliterate her worries and doubts and to do exactly what he’d promised – to make her feel good.
His hands cupped her breasts, his thumbs brushing over nipples that were too sensitive, so she arched her back and tilted her head, her eyes fixed on the sky as pleasure needled through her. He whispered words in his own tongue, an incantation, and then he lifted her, wrapping her legs around his waist, carrying her through the water, towards the steps. Reality was pushing at her, telling her to stop this, but desire reined supreme.
“I will make love to you until all you feel is pleasure,” he promised, low and husky. She shivered, the intent in his voice impossible to miss. Before she could respond, he kissed her, his stride long and easy, carrying her dripping wet form away from the pool and into the palace. He kissed her as they moved into the corridor and up the stairs that led to his apartment, as he shouldered the door inwards, and as he kicked it shut, and he kissed her as he placed her down on the bed.
He took her nipple into her mouth, sucking it and rolling it with his tongue, the contrast of his warm mouth and the cool water of the pool sent her into overdrive. He removed his own shorts, pressing his arousal between her legs, so she made a husky sound of acceptance, of deep, aching need, then lifted her legs and wrapped them around his waist, inviting – begging – him to take her.
But he held himself above her for a moment, his eyes locked to hers, and for the strangest, briefest moment, she felt doubt pass from him to her. “I want to make you happy,” he said eventually, the words layering emotions she couldn’t comprehend through her, but she nodded, incapable of thinking of anything in that moment beyond the promise of what was to come.
He took her slowly at first, watching her as if waiting for something she couldn’t fathom, and then he began to move faster, stoking her pleasure until she was crying out, tipping over the edge and into the abyss, in a delicious free fall, white-hot satisfaction within reach. He slowed down, watching her release, holding her, whispering words of reassurance that she didn’t understand then began to move again, so the satiation she thought she’d experienced built to something else entirely, a new pleasure, a new promise, and she dug her nails into his back, clinging on for dear, dear life.
It was some time later that Millie began to wonder if pleasure was capable of obliterating pain? Even temporarily? Because when they were coming together, she felt nothing but good, and it had been easy to forget everything that had gone before and simply exist in that moment of physical perfection. But now, reality was intruding, and it was banging her over the head for being so stupid. She’d fallen into his arms without any argument whatsoever. She’d let him make love to her like she meant something to him when they both knew that wasn’t true. Regret overtook her, so she pushed away from the bed as though it had suddenly caught alight.
A quick glance over her shoulder showed that he was asleep, and she was glad. Glad for the opportunity to escape – a cowardly instinct, but also one of self-preservation. She tiptoed from the room without looking back.
She was gonefrom his bed when he woke, and a cursory inspection showed she was nowhere in the apartment. He told himself not to panic. They were married and she was deep in his palace. There was nowhere she could have gone, no way for her to escape. As soon as the words formed in his mind he felt a wave of distaste.
Was he implying that she was his prisoner? Was he so sure this marriage – albeit a temporary one with a clearly defined sunset clause – was so unpalatable to her that he felt relief at the impossibility of her being able to leave the palace without him? They were married, legally bound. For her to flee was not only impossible, it was unlikely. Amelia had walked into this marriage with courage, negotiating a deal that worked for her, showing at every turn how different she was to the teenager he’d first known. She’d fought for their impending divorce, and though raising their child apart wasn’t his first choice, he could see the sense in her argument, and he’d admired her for pursuing it. But there was something else there, a darkness at the idea that he knew came from his own selfishness, just as their years-ago relationship had been pursued because he’d been selfish. He would accede to the divorce, per their agreement, when the time came. He’d promised her that much.
He showered, his body taut and flooded with sensations from the night before. She’d welcomed him back as though no time had passed, just like the night of the funeral. The last few days had been everything he hated – jettisoning out of his control, a situation exploding in his face that he couldn’t be sure of shaping to his will, and yet he’d done precisely that. He could relax now. She was here, in his bed, his home, protected from the outside world, her every need taken care of. Her health, her finances, he could fix all the worries in her life and simultaneously make love to her night after night, offering her the release she enjoyed so much.
And the release he craved.
It was relief that flooded him when he stalked into the living room some time later. Millie was back, dressed in yoga clothes, her face pink from exertion, hair pulled back into a pony tail. She was midway through lifting a tea to her lips and paused at his entrance. A blush spread over her face and she turned her attention back to the newspaper in front of her.
“Good morning?”
She fired him a tight smile and Zafar’s bubble of confidence and complacency began to thin.
“How do you feel?”
“Tired,” she responded tautly.
Okay, so he’d woken up on cloud nine today but it was apparent something was bothering Millie.
“You should go back to bed,” he murmured, enjoying the shortening of her breath.
