by Jennie Lucas
When he spoke, every word was weighed and grudging, pulled from him like blood from a stone. “My feelings…for Laetitia are more…familial…in nature.”
“Familial?” She sucked in her breath. “Like how?”
He didn’t answer.
“Is she your cousin? Your niece?” She bit her lip. “Surely she’s not young enough to be your…your daughter?”
Clenching his jaw, he looked away.
“You aren’t going to tell me, are you?”
“No,” he bit out.
“Because you promised her you wouldn’t?”
He gave a single unsteady nod.
Familial. So she wasn’t his mistress. She wasn’t his lover. Laetitia was a member of his family, or at least that was how he felt toward her.
Rose’s heart suddenly lightened. She took a deep breath. She looked up at him.
“You also promised,” she said softly, reaching up to stroke his face, “that you would kiss me if I begged you.”
Looking down at her, he sucked in his breath.
“I’m begging you.” She let her hand slowly trail down his bare throat, placing her palm against his shirt, over the rapid beat of his heart. “Kiss me. Kiss me now.”
She heard him gasp, then he grabbed her hands in his own. “All right,” he rasped. His voice was raw. “All right.”
“All right?”
“God help me—” He crushed his mouth against hers, hard and hungry. Cradling the back of her head, he shoved her against the wall, kissing her so deeply that she nearly gasped from the exquisite, anguished pleasure. She felt his hardness against her, felt his body so much stronger and more powerful than her own. But she was no longer afraid. She kissed him back, her hands gripping his hair as she gasped for breath, tilting back her throat.
He kissed down her neck, his hands moving over her thin cover-up, murmuring words of desire that she could not hear clearly, but she still heard them ringing through her body. Cupping her breasts with his hands, he bit the edge of her throat and shoulder, causing sparks of fire to spread down her body, making her shiver and shake.
With a ragged gasp, he pulled away, abruptly meeting her gaze. “You’re cold.”
Without waiting for a reply, he lifted her up against his chest, carrying her from the shadows of the cool lanai out into the sun. She blinked at the intensity of the blinding light glaring off the white sand. He set her down on the warm sand of the beach, lying down beside her.
She looked up at him, dazed with emotion and sensuality. His face was in shadow, his dark head haloed by the sun, bathed in golden light.
Lowering his head, he kissed her, covering her with his body. As he ran his hands over her thin cover-up and the bare skin of her arms, she felt the weight of his body over hers and was suddenly flushed with heat.
Leaning back on his haunches, he lifted his muscular arms and pulled off his black T-shirt. Dropping it to the sand, he reached for the belt of her cover-up.
She put her hand over his. “No,” she gasped. “We can’t. Not out here.”
“Here,” he said.
“But—”
“This place is ours.”
He kissed her, and his lips were so persuasive, moving against hers with aching sweetness as his tongue flicked against the corners of her lips, she could deny him nothing. She meekly submitted to his demand, barely noticing as he undid the belt of her thin cotton cover-up and pulled it off her body.
His hands moved over her bikini, beneath the tiny squares of fabric, cupping her breasts, rolling her aching nipples between his fingers. Locking his eyes with hers, he reached for the strings of her bikini and pulled them open.
She realized she was naked before him, lying on the sand. The heat of his gaze was too intense, and as he reached for his own shorts she squeezed her eyes shut. She felt the hot sun against her naked body, the sprinkle of cool mist from the pounding surf.
Then she felt his naked body over hers. He was so hard, so masculine, with muscular legs that were rough with coarse hair. His knee pushed between her thighs, separating them as he kissed her. She could feel him pressed between her legs, hard and huge, as he cupped her breasts with his hands. He suckled first one nipple, then the other, teasing with his tongue until she gasped with agonized pleasure.
Slowly, he kissed down her body. He licked her belly with tiny swirls of his tongue, flicking inside her belly button as he held her hips down with his large hands. He lowered himself farther down her body, spreading her thighs apart.
Her pulse was a rush of blood in her ears, louder than the cries of seagulls or the waving fronds of palm trees sighing against the sky above.
His breath was hot between her legs. It was shocking, wicked, but she could not fight him. Her body was his. Her head was spinning. She stretched her hands out on the sand, desperate to hold on to something, anything, to keep her body from flying off the earth and into the sky. She felt his hands move on her skin between her thighs. He couldn’t be thinking…he couldn’t…
Spreading her wide, he took a long taste of her with the full width of his tongue.
With a gasp, she arched off the sand. The sensation of pleasure from this intimate, forbidden act was an assault of pleasure against her body. He moved in a swirling dance, working her most sensitive spot with his tongue. Lightly, then firmly, then lightly twisting again.
Tension coiled deep inside her as her breath came in increasingly hoarse gasps. Her vision was going dark from the stars in her eyes.
“Look at me,” he whispered.
She couldn’t.
“Look at me,” he demanded, and she had no choice but to obey.
The image of his dark head nestled between her thighs, looking up at her, as she saw his face against her naked body, caused a surge of electricity to sizzle through her body. Her hips lifted off the sand.
Then he rose to his knees, and she got her first full look at his naked body.
Xerxes was breathtaking. Beautiful, in the strength of his muscled form and shape, in the stretch of dark hair tracing down his hard-bodied chest to his taut, flat belly and his lean hips. She saw the hard, enormous, jutting evidence of his desire for her and squeezed her eyes shut, suddenly afraid.
He covered her with his body, reaching across to gently brush tendrils of hair from her face. “Don’t be afraid.”
Rose kept her eyes shut. “I know it’s going to hurt,” she whispered. “Please just make it quick.”
His low laugh made her eyes fly open. She found him looking down at her with dancing dark eyes.
“Oh, my beautiful girl,” he said. “Quick is the last thing I’m going to be.” As he slowly inched his way back down her body, she heard him mutter, “Even if it kills me.”
He moved his head back between her legs and breathed against her. Holding her hips firmly, he pressed his mouth against the wet spot between her thighs. The pleasure was too intense, causing her hips to buck as she tried to jerk away, but he would not release her.
Feeling his tongue work her body like an instrument, playing her at his own rhythm, she was completely under his mastery and control. She could do nothing but surrender to a building joy so exquisite that it was agony as he tortured her with his sweet mouth, tossing her back and forth against the warm, white sand like a ship upon a raging sea. She heard the roar of the nearby surf as he suckled her taut center, licking and swirling her sensitive peak.
Then he pushed his tongue inside her body.
She gasped as the jolt went through her. The feeling of his hard, wet tongue inside her was like nothing she’d ever felt before. She arched her back as his tongue moved upward, slowly savoring every slippery crevice of her body. He lapped her taut center and suddenly she felt his thick finger inside her. Even as she gasped, he pulled his finger back, only to replace it with two long, wide fingers from his large hand. Stretching her. Filling her.
All the while, his hot tongue swirled incessantly against her sensitized nub, until the sensation was such
sharp, sweet agony that she whimpered, begging for release, begging him to stop this torment.
But he was merciless. Holding her firmly against the sand, he began to tease her, going from full laps of his tongue to tiny swirling licks with the tip that now tantalized, but didn’t touch, the taut center of her longing. And when she could bear it no longer, when her gasping breath had shrunk her vision of the blue sky to small pinpricks in a sea of black, he suckled and bit her sensitive nub at the same moment he thrust three fingers inside her, bursting her into a thousand pieces. Rose screamed as her world exploded.
Instantly, he lifted his mouth from her, shoving her legs apart with his hips, positioning his hardness between her thighs. She was still gasping for breath, lost in dazed ecstasy, when she felt his hardness pressing against her wet core, demanding entrance.
With a ragged breath, he pushed himself inside her with one relentless movement.
She was unprepared for the shock of pain, unready for the enormous size of him entering her virgin body, as he pushed himself inside her. She choked back a cry.
He froze, holding himself utterly still.
Then slowly, as she exhaled, he began to move inside her. Gently, ever so gently, he swayed his hips against her, rocking back and forth as he thrust with agonizing slowness inside her. To her surprise, a new wave of pleasure begin to build, coiling low in her belly. A new shot of ecstasy swept her up almost instantly as he filled her so deeply and completely, all the way to her heart.
Deeper. Deeper. His force split her in two but the pain had somehow turned into hot, molten pleasure. It built so hard and fast that within minutes, she gasped out his name as she felt a second explosion, even deeper and more shattering than the first, and she screamed. His deep, low voice joined her, shouting out his pleasure with a growl of ecstasy, and she felt tears on her cheeks and realized she was weeping with joy.
After Xerxes collapsed over her sweet naked body, it took a long time before he slowly came back to his senses.
Eventually, he felt the hot sun on his back, felt the rough sand against his knees. He looked down at the beautiful woman in his arms. Her eyes were closed, her lips curved in a smile.
His heart turned over in his chest.
He’d never felt anything like this. Ever. For anyone.
He’d never even imagined lovemaking could feel like this. Was it because he’d never taken a virgin to his bed before? Was that why he felt such amazement, such tenderness?
It had nearly killed him to hold himself back as he’d made love to her. But knowing she was a virgin, he’d wanted to make it good for her. And what she’d done for him…the way she’d made him feel…
Tenderly, he rolled off her body so he wouldn’t crush her with his weight. He moved to her side, still cradling her body with his own. He’d wanted nothing more than to make love to her like this, on the white sand as the waves crashed beneath the palm trees. He’d wanted to fill her, to impale her, to make her scream out his name. But it hadn’t been like he’d imagined. It had been better. It had been the single most amazing sexual experience of his life.
Tucking his hand behind his head, he stared up at the wispy white clouds drifting over the blue sky. Then he glanced at the beautiful woman in his arms, and realized to his shock that he already wanted more of her. And it was even more shocking than that.
He realized in that moment that he didn’t want to give her up. Ever. He wanted to possess her forever.
Chapter Twelve
THE next morning, Rose lay cradled against him in the large bed as she stared out the bedroom window, watching the pink streaks of sunrise cross the sky.
They’d moved into the bedroom sometime yesterday afternoon. They’d spent the rest of the night there, only leaving the bed to shower and scavenge and devour simple meals in the kitchen.
She looked at him now as he slept. His peaceful face looked younger somehow, almost boyish. Sleeping with him all night, in his arms after the many times they’d made love, was utter bliss. It was exquisite.
It was torture.
Why did she feel this way—so completely infatuated, so enamored, so connected to him in every way possible? Was it because he’d taken her virginity? Was she deluding herself, like she had with Lars, into imagining Xerxes as the fulfillment of some romantic dream?
“Don’t think I’m a good person,” he’d told her grimly. She didn’t want to believe him. How could she when every inch of her body down to blood and bone insisted differently? And Xerxes had kept every promise he’d made to her. Even last night, when she’d practically thrown herself at him, he’d actually tried to let her go, to warn her off. She was the one who’d called him on his promise, demanding that he kiss her. Giving him her virginity had been entirely her choice.
She didn’t regret it. She couldn’t.
And yet…
She’d told herself she could just have casual sex—that she could experience sensual pleasure without falling in love. Now, she realized how foolish she had truly been to think she could ever keep her heart separate from her body. She did not have the walls of armor that men had. That Xerxes had.
“No regrets?” he said quietly beside her, as if he’d read her mind.
She turned to him with an unsteady smile. “None,” she lied, her heart in her throat. “In fact, I was just thinking I should have jumped into bed with some man a long time ago.”
He growled. “I am glad you did not.”
Leaning forward, he kissed her. His embrace was tender, making her heart yearn and twist and break beneath the pleasure.
He pulled back, his dark brows lowered in concern as he searched her gaze. “What’s wrong, Rose?” he said quietly. “Are you thinking of Växborg?”
“No.”
“You still love him.”
“No.” She shook her head fiercely. “I don’t think I ever did.”
He looked at her, his dark eyes shining. “I am glad.”
Their eyes locked, and for a moment, she was utterly lost. Her memory of Lars seemed like a dewdrop compared to the ocean of longing and desire she felt for Xerxes now.
But she couldn’t fall in love with Xerxes after he’d specifically warned her not to! She couldn’t be that stupid—that gullible and naive!
Abruptly, she sat up in bed.
“Rose?”
“I’m fine.” She smiled back at him, but it took an effort. She blinked fast to hide threatening tears. “I’m great. We had a fun night together. It’s no big deal.”
“It was your first time,” he said softly, putting his hands below his head on the pillow. He smiled, his eyes caressing her. “Of course it’s a big deal.”
“Well, you needn’t worry.” She looked away. “I’m not going to pester you for an engagement ring.”
“That’s good,” he said with a snort. “We both know I am not the sort of man for you to bring home to your parents. I’m not exactly husband-and-father material.”
“Right.”
“I mean it.” He sat up beside her, his eyes suddenly serious. “You think Växborg is a selfish bastard? I am worse.”
She looked away. “So you say.”
“I’m no good to any woman,” he insisted. “Least of all a woman like you. Rose…” Reaching out, he took her hands in his larger ones. “You deserve the fairy tale. And we both know I am no white knight.”
She pulled her hands away.
“Honestly, you don’t need to explain.” Her voice cracked. “I’m fine. In a few days, you can trade me and I’ll go back home to California and find a man I can truly love. Someone who’s honorable, kind and strong. A man I can love for the rest of my life.”
Silence fell.
“And if he never comes?” Xerxes said quietly.
The thought caused pain in her throat. “Then I’ll be alone,” she whispered. “Until the day that I die.”
“That won’t happen.” He pulled her back into his arms. She tried to resist, but he was inexorable. He held her agains
t his naked chest for long moments, as they watched the sky outside grow bluer and brighter. “You will have a happy life. You’ll see. You will. You must.”
Still cradled against his chest, she looked back at him. Their eyes locked as, with agonizing slowness, he lowered his mouth to hers.
“You deserve everything good in this world,” he whispered against her skin. She felt his hands stroking her, felt his fingers twisting in her tangled hair before he kissed her. After the intense passion of the previous night, he was gentle now, tender against her bruised lips. His kiss was so poignant and sweet that tears burned her eyes. She felt choked with emotion.
Why did her heart ache like this? Was it just the overflow of too much passion, too much joy in his arms? Or was it the pain of knowing it would not last?
His kiss deepened. Rolling back on the mattress, he lifted her over him, stroking her naked back, making her shiver in the cool dawn. Looking down at him beneath her on the bed, Rose thought she’d never seen a man at once so beautiful and brutal. His jaw was rough and unshaven, his short black hair mussed from all their hours of lovemaking. His body was tanned and muscular, from his broad shoulders to his taut belly to his thighs thick as tree trunks.
Xerxes was like no man she’d ever met. If he wasn’t a white knight, then he was the dark prince of midnight dreams.
He left her breathless. His strength. His power. Most of all, the dark heat in his eyes as he looked up at her.
His hands lifted up her hips. As if she weighed nothing at all, he lowered her with exquisite slowness, impaling her, causing them both to gasp as he filled her inch by inch. Rose tossed back her head, exposing her neck as her eyes rolled back with the pleasure. He guided her, allowing her to establish her own rhythm, teaching her to ride him. Tension coiled inside her deep and fast, and when she finally exploded, she screamed. He plunged inside her with a final deep thrust, shouting her name with a bestial growl that somehow sounded like a prayer. When she collapsed over his body, utterly spent, it took ten minutes before she stopped shaking.
Afterward, as they slept in each other’s arms, Rose opened her eyes to stare blankly at the brilliant sunlight on the ocean.