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“Different?” I mocked. “No, it’s hypocritical, and it’s habit and society.”
“And you would see that change?”
“I think it would be nice if women without a family or husband had more choices.”
“Right now, I wish the same thing.” He ran a finger down my cheek. “It’s a shame you have to hide this face in public.”
“Not just public. A tizana never shows her features even to her clients.” It was meant to help us separate ourselves from our task. Acting a part. It also ensured we could retire and show our faces later in life, taking on the role of a widow or a woman of means who no longer cared what society thought if she showed her true self.
“It doesn’t change the fact you whore yourself.” His voice turned harsh.
“If you don’t like it, leave.” I wouldn’t apologize.
He didn’t go. Instead, he pulled me into his arms and kissed me.
Kissed me despite his anger.
Kissed me like a man parched. And I never once thought of stopping him. This was the passion I’d heard of. The tingling and heat that made me forget about everything but his touch.
And touch he did, his hands roaming all over. One by one, my scarves fluttered to the floor, and for the first time, I was truly bare for a man. While I’d seen men in the nude before, they’d always been unconscious. Flaccid. Uninteresting.
Not so with the King. His body was solid under his garments. Slabs of muscles teased. I ran my hands over the ridges. Inexperienced and, at the same time, eager. Eager to learn what came next.
Pleasure.
The things he did with his mouth and hands…
He worshipped my breasts to the point I quivered and cried out. He traced his way down my body with his tongue until he reached the apex of my thighs. I knew what he planned, and while new, I wanted to feel—
Oh.
His tongue against me in that place had me thrashing and whimpering.
True to his word, I did scream as I came.
But he wasn’t done. He covered me with his body, kissing me hard, and that pulse between my legs throbbed, greedy already for more.
When the head of him pressed, I tightened for a moment.
Too big. It wouldn’t fit.
“Relax,” he soothed.
I knew once I got past the next part it would feel good.
“Do it,” I said. “Take me.”
The moisture there was slick and welcoming as he pushed. Trepidation had me trembling as he stretched me. A strange sensation that had me digging my nails into his back.
He took it slow. Tense and serious.
“You’re so tight,” he muttered before he thrust, breaking past my maidenhead so I sheathed him fully.
The pain of that tearing emerged in a yelp. I’d expected it, but still, it shocked.
Shocked him too.
He froze above me. “You’re a virgin?”
