Peasants and Kings

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Peasants and Kings Page 11

by Emma Slate


  What happened to him?

  I wanted to ask, but that would send us deeper into the realm of personal, so I decided to ignore it. I slid around to his back and was unable to stop my feminine sigh of appreciation when I saw the naked breadth of his shoulders.

  He turned suddenly, making my hand drop from his body. Hadrian cupped my butt and hauled me toward him, his mouth finally descending toward mine.

  His kiss wasn’t gentle, but forceful.

  Viking, indeed.

  Ruthless and savage, I’d known from the moment I saw him that Hadrian in a suit had been nothing but a facade.

  His hands traveled down to the back of my thighs, spreading them, urging my legs to wrap around his middle.

  I jumped into his arms, the heat of me pressing against the straining erection behind his fly.

  He carted me to the bed, and without letting go, laid me down. His body covered mine.

  My hands and lips wanted to be everywhere, but Hadrian was a conqueror and I was at his mercy.

  So I accepted his seductive assault and drowned in the feeling of him.

  He lifted his lips from mine and raised his head. His blue-gray eyes raged with lust and the corded muscles of his neck were tight with restraint.

  Hadrian scrutinized my body as his hands cradled my breasts. He pressed a kiss to the column of my throat and then inched lower to take a nipple into his mouth through the fabric of my lace, teasing and taunting.

  “It’s beautiful,” he commented.

  And then he ripped the delicate garment in half, leaving me almost naked.

  Hadrian sieged my skin with his hot mouth, kissing and licking, devouring and removing lace as he went.

  When I was completely disheveled and bare, he finally lifted himself off me, but only to remove his tuxedo trousers and black silk boxer briefs.

  Hadrian, in all his nude glory, made my insides quiver with desire and fear.

  He took himself in hand, caressing his member, all the while keeping his eyes on mine.

  I swallowed, but couldn’t look away, and even went as far as bending my leg to reveal the wet sliver between my legs.

  Hadrian made a noise of appreciation.

  I was witnessing a man in his most basic element, and he was ready to take me like a mindless animal that cared about nothing except mating.

  My hand slipped down between my legs.

  “Don’t touch yourself,” he commanded harshly. “Let me.”

  I arched a brow and continued to stroke myself. “I was never very good at taking commands.”

  “You’ll learn.”

  He released his member and kneeled down between my legs, inhaling slowly, as if absorbing my scent, my arousal having already perfumed the air.

  His tongue lashed my skin, which caused me to buckle and cry out.

  “Your punishment,” he reminded me. “Because you didn’t listen.”

  He devoured the flesh between my legs. Hadrian knew the perfect masterful pressure to exert to bring me to the edge, only to pull back before my climax. And then he’d start all over again, tirelessly, for what seemed like eternity.

  “Hadrian,” I moaned, mindless with my need to come.

  “Tell me what you want, Eden,” he commanded. “Maybe I’ll give it to you.”

  “Fuck me,” I whispered, the fever of desire making me mindless.

  “I don’t have a condom. I told you, I didn’t plan on being with a Rex girl tonight.”

  “I’m on birth control and I just had a physical. I’m clean.”

  “So am I.” Hadrian grinned, revealing his feral intensity. He slid up my body and positioned himself at my entrance. He thrust inside of me in one expert movement, causing my breath to hitch at the sudden invasion of him.

  I felt him everywhere, deeply.

  Hadrian didn’t take his eyes off me as he started to move, slowly at first and then when my body began to give into him, make room for him, he picked up speed. His thrusts became ruthless and dominating, his hand clasped the back of my neck as he brought my lips to meet his.

  His tongue plunged with the rhythm of his body. Desire had me digging my nails into his back.

  “You like that?” he whispered harshly, his mouth against mine. “What about this?”

  He rammed into me and angled his pelvis so that I had no choice but to come.

  Waves of pleasure consumed me. I arched my back, wanting to drag it out for as long as possible.

  With a curse in a language I didn’t understand, Hadrian clasped my hips in a bruising grip and emptied himself.

  We stilled and Hadrian propped up on his elbows to stare into my eyes.

  He smiled slightly and pressed a quick kiss to my lips before sliding out of me. I watched him heave his mighty body off the bed and pad naked to the bathroom.

  I wasn’t usually a fan of brawny men that looked like they could crack skulls for a living, but something about the way Hadrian strutted made me appreciate his sensual grace despite his size.

  I didn’t know what to do now. Was I supposed to get up and sleep in one of the guest rooms? Give him his space?

  He came back from the bathroom and climbed into bed. I got out of the other side and went to the bathroom to clean up. After I did my business, I looked at myself in the mirror. Tousled waves, bright eyes, flushed cheeks.

  I headed back to the bedroom. Hadrian was in bed, the covers pulled up to his waist. He had one arm tucked beneath his head and his seductive gaze tracked my every movement.

  “So, I guess I’ll sleep in the guest room,” I said awkwardly.

  “Why would you do that?” he asked.

  “Because—well, sleeping together isn’t sleeping together.”

  “Eden,” he began. “How am I going to take you in the middle of the night if I roll over and find you aren’t there?”

  Heat crept up my cheeks at the mention of his desire. I was already tender between my legs, but I knew I’d want him again too.

  He flipped the covers back in a silent command for me to climb into bed, and then he turned the bedside lamp on.

  I flipped off the main light and then went to my side of the bed, sliding between the sheets, naked.

  I mirrored his pose, lying on my back, arm tucked underneath my head to stare at the ceiling.

  He flicked the lamp off and we were blanketed in darkness.

  I let out a slow exhale.

  The scent of Hadrian after sex drifted toward me, a scent I couldn’t describe. Sated male, warm skin, and the aroma of an expensive shave cream and masterfully chosen cologne.

  “Is your shave cream Italian?” I blurted out.

  After a moment of silence, he said, “Aye. How did you know it was Italian?”

  “My mother,” I said softly, smiling in remembrance. “She used men’s Italian shaving cream for her legs. She refused to use anything else.”

  “Are you close to your mother?”

  I swallowed in an attempt to tamp down the sudden lump in my throat and realized it was best if I didn’t say more. “No.”

  He paused for a long moment and then his hand reached out to pull me into his side. It was intimate, and blurred the line of what we’d just done, and for what reason.

  But I couldn’t stop from placing my hand on his chest, feeling the strength beneath my fingertips.

  “Good night, Hadrian.”

  His arm tightened around me. “Good night, Eden.”

  I awoke to early morning sunrays streaming through the expensive blinds. I winced, feeling like I was hungover, even though I’d gone to bed completely sober.

  True to his word, Hadrian had turned to me in the middle of the night, rousing me from sleep with his wandering hands and tongue. He’d kept me on edge for hours before finally letting me come. I felt like a wrung-out dishrag, and no doubt, if I looked in the mirror, I’d see bags under my eyes.

  I rolled over, expecting to find Hadrian in bed next to me, but he wasn’t there. Neither were his clothes.

&
nbsp; Frowning, I slowly sat up and ran a hand through my tangled hair.

  I heard the faintest sounds coming from the kitchen and deduced Hadrian’s location. I looked at the clock on the bedside table. It was a little past seven. I still had some time before I had to get back to The Mansion.

  I went into the bathroom and grimaced when I saw my reflection in the mirror. Last night’s makeup was ringed around my eyes. I turned on the faucet, let it warm, and then I scrubbed away the residue with the luxury soap on the counter.

  There was something oddly sobering about washing off face paint in the early morning light.

  Though I’d found pleasure in Hadrian’s arms, I definitely couldn’t dismiss the truth. In the dark, in the shadows, pleasure reigned. I had enjoyed what I’d done.

  But in daylight, the cold transaction of business was first and foremost.

  Hadrian was an amazing lover. And for my first Rex experience, I couldn’t have hoped for better. But that’s exactly what it was—my first experience. The first of many.

  There would be other men who would be amazing in bed, but would any of them wrench desire from my body? Would any of them look at me the way Hadrian did? Like he could see past the name I called myself and the smile I plastered across my lips?

  Would any of them slide between my legs and fill me so completely that I’d forget why I’d taken this job in the first place? Would any of them make me feel like a sensual, powerful woman? Or would I wake after mornings with them and have regrets about the life I had chosen?

  I had no regrets now.

  But I also knew I was feeling emotions that I shouldn’t be feeling. Not for a client.

  I wanted more of him. I wanted another night where I was the one who climbed on top of him and made him beg.

  I grabbed the hand towel and gently dabbed my face dry. I twirled my hair into a loose side ponytail, securing it with a strand of hair and pins.

  Hadrian had ripped the lace undergarments from my body, so I slid into my dress, wearing nothing underneath. It felt mischievous and secretive.

  I left my ruined undergarments and slipped into my crystal slippers before padding out of the bedroom and down the hallway.

  My steps were quiet as I made my way down the stairs and headed toward the kitchen. Hadrian’s back was to me and he was standing at the counter. I was just about to announce my presence when his phone trilled. He reached into his black tuxedo pants pocket and pulled out his cell.

  “This is Rhys.” He paused a few moments. “I didn’t agree to that. No. The price is the price. It’s non-negotiable.”

  I hesitated, not wanting to alert him that I was eavesdropping on a business conversation. A few more moments of silence passed.

  “Have you forgotten who the fuck you’re talking to?” he demanded. “I’ll give you a few days to reconsider your position, but only a few. After that, I’ll be happy to remind you exactly who you’re dealing with.”

  Ice flew through my veins, freezing my blood.

  I didn’t like his tone or the fear that rippled down my spine. It was a conversation I never should’ve heard.

  He hung up and set his phone aside.

  His business was his business.

  I finally mustered the courage to face him. Slapping a smile on my face, I entered the kitchen. “Good morning,” I greeted.

  He looked at me over his shoulder. His eyes crinkled at the corners, and his grin made my heart soar in my chest.

  “Good morning,” he murmured huskily.

  I swallowed my desire. He’d been inside of me most of last night, but I wanted him again.

  Desperately.

  “I’m going to go,” I blurted out.

  “Coffee first.” He went to a cupboard, pulled out a mug and filled it. “How do you take it?”

  “Black, if it’s drip,” I replied. “I prefer espresso.”

  He arched an eyebrow but came toward me and held out the cup.

  “Thanks.” I took it from him, trying not to be too overt as I studied him. His blond hair and natural strawberry highlights would’ve looked downright feminine on a lesser man. But Hadrian wasn’t lesser. He was huge and looked out of place in a modern kitchen. He wore his white formal shirt from the night before, but it was open at the neck and rolled up to the elbows. He was wearing his tuxedo trousers, but his feet were bare.

  He looked casual and relaxed. Sexy as hell.

  He looked even better naked.

  “You’re up early,” I said, striving to break the awkwardness that had sprung up between us.

  “I’m an early riser. Plus, I’m dealing with jet lag.”

  I nodded and tried to take a sip of coffee, but it was still too hot to drink so I set it aside. “I really do have to get going.”

  A grin appeared on his lips. “Do you?”

  “Yes, I do.” I cleared my throat. “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “Last night. It was…well it was…”

  “Go on.”

  “I’m glad it was you. For my first Rex experience.”

  His gaze darkened. Hadrian took a step toward me, crowding my space, breathing my air. He wrapped his arms around my waist and hauled me against him and I felt his erection.

  A pulse of desire drummed between my thighs.

  As much as I wanted Hadrian one last time, I knew it would be a mistake.

  “I didn’t know it was your first event. What’s your real name?”

  “I’m still not going to tell you that,” I said, pushing against his chest, trying to get free.

  “I noticed you wear colored contacts. Why?”

  “It’s part of my persona,” I lied. “It fits the look of a Rex girl.”

  “Show me your real eyes.”

  “No.”

  He released me, his gaze intense. “I’ll walk you back to The Mansion.”

  “Thanks, but I don’t need—”

  “Eden,” he growled.

  “Fine,” I muttered. “Can we go now, please?” Without waiting for him to reply, I turned and marched out of the kitchen and waited by the front door.

  Hadrian was slower, as if he didn’t have a care in the world. He sat on the couch to put on his socks and formal shoes.

  The silence between us was making me antsy, but I had nothing to say to him. I’d fucked him for money and the next morning he’d just poured me coffee and acted like we were some domestic picture of normalcy.

  We weren’t.

  I was glad I wasn’t allowed to tell Hadrian my name. Then I’d become real and this would no longer be a fantasy.

  We had to remain a fantasy. That’s what The Rex sold: the perfect evening, with the perfect girl and no strings attached—unattainable to all but the most wealthy and coercive of men.

  Hadrian got up from the couch and walked to me. Grasping my hand in his, he reached for the doorknob.

  The morning was quiet, and the air was fragrant with the perfume of the manicured gardens.

  I attempted to tug my hand free of Hadrian’s grasp, but he was having none of it.

  “Stop fighting me,” he commanded, tightening his fingers around mine. His grip wasn’t painful, but strong. There was no getting away from him.

  We wandered leisurely through the maze, past the glass gazebo that had been the stage of the most erotic performance I’d ever witnessed. I was immediately transported to the previous night, watching writhing bodies find their pleasures. And then I’d found my own pleasure, many times, under Hadrian’s relentless, unyielding demands.

  I shook off the sensual trance. The closer The Mansion loomed, the more despondent I grew. I couldn’t understand my own reaction. It wasn’t shame or even regret that fluttered in my chest. No. It was something else.

  Something I didn’t dare give a name.

  He opened the back door of The Mansion and allowed me to step inside first. It was dark and quiet. Either the house was so large that sound didn’t travel from one room to the next, or everyone was still asl
eep.

  “You can leave me here,” I said. “I know the way to the kitchen.”

  Hadrian paused a moment and then slowly released my hand.

  I thought if he was no longer touching me, the intense physical chemistry between us would disappear, but it went nowhere.

  Before I could think anything of it, I stood up on my tiptoes and brushed a kiss to the corner of his mouth and whispered, “Thank you for last night.”

  I didn’t wait to see his reaction. I turned and bolted down the hallway, refusing to look behind me.

  When I got to the swinging door of the kitchen, I pushed against it and went in. There was a buffet of hot dishes lined up on the long granite counter tops. Girls in different states of dress sat in groups of twos and threes, chatting and drinking their coffees.

  Genevieve was nowhere to be found and I breathed a sigh of relief, not yet ready to face the Madame to give her my report on the evening.

  I went through the kitchen, dodging girls with plates and mugs, and made my way into the dining room.

  Tiffany and Julia sat at the corner of a long table that looked like it had once belonged in a medieval castle. They quickly waved me over, and I walked toward them across the wooden floor.

  Julia’s gaze ran up and down my body. “Good morning.”

  “Morning,” I replied.

  “How was your night?” Tiffany asked. Her face was clear of makeup and she was wearing a white satin robe secured at the waist. Julia was wearing the same garment in a shade of rose.

  “My night was good,” I said.

  Julia frowned. “Good? Your first night with someone and all you have to say is good? I didn’t see who you left with. So, who was it?”

  “Fish for information all you want. My lips are sealed.” I smiled to take the sting out of my reprimand.

  We weren’t at liberty to discuss who we’d spent the night with—it was inevitable that we’d see each other leaving with men, and sometimes women, so it wasn’t like it was ever a complete secret. But discussion about our sexual proclivities went against Rex policy. We had to protect our clients or at least give the illusion of discretion.

 

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