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Kala pulls me up, demanding a kiss, not shying away from the taste of her own sweet musk.
I conquer her mouth the way I devoured her sex, kissing her so thoroughly that it makes our mouths swollen and sore.
Even as her aftershocks roll through her, she scrambles with the buckle of my trousers.
“Need you, Etienne. Want you inside me.”
We’re blurring the lines now. We are blowing past boundaries and limits and pacts. Feelings are involved. All of the emotions on both of our ends. The only clear thing we’ve discussed is her assuring me she’s on the pill. But I want this. I want her. Kala St. Rain is my forever person.
Which means I have to give credit where it’s due. My father made the correct match. And if we produce an heir? So much the better. Kala will be my queen, and we can burn down the monarchy for all I care. All I know is I’m never letting go. Fuck the divorce pact.
I laugh viciously as I pull away from her kiss and let her unbuckle me, and shove my trousers down around my thighs.
“You want me inside you? Or do you want me to fuck you, pretty wife?”
Her blue eyes widen, and I wait for her response.
32
Kala
I’d always thought I craved a gentleman.
But when Etienne calls me his pretty wife and asks if I want him to be sweet or to fuck me, well, what would anyone say?
“Fuck me, pretty husband,” I say, teeth gritted either in hunger or frustration at his uncooperative trousers.
Probably a little bit of both.
Etienne rises from the bed, and I come up on my knees to watch what happens next.
His trousers fall to the ground with the help of gravity when he stands. With three deft movements, he unbuttons the top two buttons of his white shirt, then reaches backward and tugs the entire shirt up and off over his head.
In nothing but his boxer briefs, Etienne is a man to be reckoned with. Broad and ridged and oh so touchable, with a smattering of honey-brown hair swirling over his pectorals. They ripple when he quickly bends over to rid himself of his boxer briefs. His cock springs free: thick, pink, and already smeared with precum at the head.
The way his gaze travels over my body, I know what he wants to happen next.
Coming to my knees, I tug my dress over my head, fully exposing myself to him.
The thought occurs to me that we’re doing exactly what the king wants—he wants us to consummate and get on with having babies.
As if reading my mind, Etienne asks, “Where are you right now, beauty?”
“I was just wondering where you are with the whole face-to-face thing?”
What happens next has me going nonverbal. Etienne has me straddle him on the bed, lights on, face to face.
His thick length burrows into my heat, and it feels better than anything. Anything.
“Oh…”
My eyes flutter closed as he moves in me, making sure I feel every inch, every ridge.
“Do you know how amazing you are, Kala? I don’t want to numb myself when I’m with you. I want to feel you…I want to feel everything with…someone who cares about me.”
What do I say to that?
My response catches in my throat. A powerful thrust has me falling against him, and I circle my arms around his neck and hold on.
