AllFreeNovel
Share Us
She trembled.
His own heart was beating far too fast and he didn’t know why. This was...a great deal more erotic than he’d anticipated.
Lifting his mouth from her neck, he flexed his hips, pressing himself against her soft, wet heat.
She’d tensed.
‘Yes?’ he murmured. ‘Tell me, sweetheart. I need to hear the words.’
She took the longest time to answer, still shaking like a leaf and it wasn’t with fear, not given the way she’d moved against him and the slickness against his fingertips. But he didn’t move. He kept himself very still.
‘Yes,’ she breathed eventually.
It was only one word, but her voice was different to that of the woman he’d been talking to earlier. That woman had had an accent, and it didn’t sound at all like the murmured ‘yes’ he’d just heard.
Which meant this woman, the woman in bed with him now, definitely wasn’t the one he’d flirted with in the ballroom. She was someone else, someone familiar, and he’d have laid money on the fact that somewhere, somehow, he’d met her. He was also positive that she knew who he was, because why else had she slipped into his bed? Why else let him touch her?
Augustine had never been a man who hesitated. He knew who he was and what he was capable of, and while he might have been a very average king, he was truly excellent at giving pleasure. If a woman was warm and willing, he never said no.
Yet he found himself hesitating now.
But she must have got sick of waiting, because abruptly she pressed her hips back and he felt the hot, slick flesh and then there was no hesitating and indeed, no thinking anymore.
‘Wait,’ he growled, before reaching for the condoms he had at the ready on the bedside table next to him. It only took him a matter of moments to sheathe himself—he didn’t need light—and then he gripped her hip and pushed into her tight, wet heat, feeling her wrap around his aching erection like a homecoming. She gasped, arching against him, shaking.
God, she felt good. So unbelievably good. He liked to go slow, to draw things out as long as he could, precisely because he could. When it came to sex, his control over his own body and its reactions were faultless.
But this... This was different. She was different somehow and he couldn’t stop himself from moving, a long, slow glide in and out, holding her firmly. She moved with him, her breathing frantic and gasping, twisting against him, one hand bracing herself, the other gripping his hip the way he was gripping hers, holding him to her.
He shifted, moving without thought, tucking her head into the crook of his braced elbow so he could turn her towards him, his fingers buried in thick, soft hair as he found her mouth. Kissing her deeply, chasing that sweet, delicate flavour.
In the dark there was only the heat between them, getting hotter, the slick grip of her sex around his, the softness of her mouth and the astonishing pleasure that wound tighter and tighter, a spell holding them suspended in this endless moment.
It couldn’t last.
Shockingly fast he found himself at the end of his control and when she clutched at him, gasping, he knew she had too. So he took her hand from his hip and guided it down over her stomach, holding her fingers over where they were connected and pressing down. Then he thrust in deep one last time, and she cried out against his mouth, her body stiffening as she came.
Then he was too, an avalanche of intense pleasure rolling over him and dragging him under, crushing him as his own ragged breathing joined hers.
He lost himself for whole minutes—something he hadn’t done since he was a teenager seducing one of the palace maids—with his face buried in the warm hollow of her neck, and it was some time before the real world returned.
She was still trembling against him, both of them quiet. And briefly he debated having the conversation about exactly who she was and what she was doing here. Then she turned in his arms, took his face between her hands and kissed him again. And he decided there were more appealing things to be doing in the dark than having a conversation.
He finally fell asleep close to dawn, and when he woke up, he was alone.
She was gone.
CHAPTER TWO
Three months later
THEWRITERSBARat Raffles hotel, Singapore, had been cleared of the general public as per Winifred’s instructions, and now was occupied by only one person. He was sitting at the burnished gold of the bar, chatting easily to the barman. The man had lost his awe at having the King of Isavere seated on one of his bar stools, and was now talking to Augustine enthusiastically about the history of the Singapore Sling cocktail, invented at the beginning of the twentieth century, right here in this hotel.
Winifred didn’t want to interrupt, happy to wait until Augustine had finished his conversation.
It gave her time to gather her courage.
It also gave her time to watch him, which was one of her favourite pastimes, and since she wouldn’t be able to do that for too much longer, she wanted to indulge herself while she could.
