by Avery Flynn
“I’m sorry.” It took everything he had not to rush over to her and tell her she’d never be alone again, that she’d always have him, but another lie was the last thing she needed right now. “We did the best we could.”
“You did. And so did I.” A decisive nod—the future queen was back. “Are you responsible for the job at Dylan’s?”
“We may have gotten your résumé moved to the top of the pile, but you earned it on your own.”
“And if the threat from the Fjende hadn’t appeared, would you have kept watching from a distance?”
“Yes.” He was beginning to hate that fucking word.
She considered him with a distant, calculating look, her earlier open vulnerability stored away somewhere he couldn’t touch. He wasn’t surprised; she’d had years of practice of hiding her true self. So which one was the true Elle? The woman who melted under his touch, the spitfire who challenged his every move, the engaging stylist who teased and flirted, or the future queen as icy as she was fiery? Then, in one of those flash-of-realization moments that seem shouted down from heaven, Dom realized he didn’t care, because he wanted them all. He wanted her for more than a Roman Holiday escape, and he couldn’t have her. His mission and her duty took precedence over his heart.
“I’m going to go shower.” She turned and started for the door.
“Elle.” The five feet between them felt like miles. “Are we good?”
She stilled but didn’t turn to look back. “I don’t know.”
And then she was gone.
He wanted to chase after her, kiss her until she couldn’t remember her name, let alone all he’d revealed, but she needed space and time to digest the conversation. So Dom forced himself to sit back down on the bar stool at the island and drink the last of his coffee while he watched the clock’s second hand tick forward.
Chapter Eleven
After discovering even a thirty-minute super-hot shower wouldn’t drain the chalet’s hot water tank or get rid of the disappointment clinging to her heart, Elle squeezed the heavy wet out of her hair and stepped out of the shower. Steam covered the large mirror over the double sinks and hung heavy in the air.
She understood Dom’s reasoning for not coming for her until he didn’t have a choice, but that didn’t alleviate the hurt. Ten years was a long time to think that you were alone in the world. Then she’d met Dom, and despite everything that should have sent her running, it was like she was finally with her people—the ones who understood without her having to explain a thing.
Then he’d dropped his little bombshell and cracked the foundation of whatever was building between them…and there was something. She knew it the same way she knew her pulse was going to skyrocket when he walked into a room, the way in their training matches she knew he would take off the kid gloves because too much was at risk to pussyfoot around, and the way her soul settled any time he was near. He might not be her people, but he could be her person. Another time, another place…she would have run like the wind to get away from the feelings he caused, but their limited time together had one advantage. She didn’t have to worry about losing him, because she’d never really have him no matter how much she realized she wanted to. All she had was the next thirty hours. The question, was how did she want to spend them? With Dom, pretending there wasn’t a jet to Elskov waiting for them at the end of it all.
Wrapping the thick white towel around her, she walked out of the bathroom into the massive guest room and stopped dead in her tracks. Dom sat on the end of her bed, the shirt of his she’d worn down to breakfast twisted in his hands. God, he looked delicious. Contrite, proud, and unbroken all in one tall, muscled, Viking warrior package here to accept whatever she wanted to dish out at him, because he could take it. He’d thrown on pants and a dark blue button-up shirt. There wasn’t a wrinkle to be seen beyond the crumpled mass of white fabric crushed in his large hands.
“I was beginning to wonder if you’d drowned in there.” He tossed the shirt to the side and leaned against the carved walnut post at the end of the bed like he had every right to be there.
It was a shock to realize that for the first time, the image of a man in her personal space didn’t freak her out. It was right where she wanted him. No. She wanted him in it. Naked. Sweaty. Hard. She stalked across the room, stopping between his wide-spread thighs. “Showers help me clear my head.”
“So what did you decide?”
Toying with the tiny buttons on his shirt, she slipped one and then another free. “We’re okay.”
Torment clearly written on his face, he grabbed her wrist and forced her arm back to her side before releasing her as if he couldn’t trust himself to touch her at that moment. “Not that I should ask this, but why?”
And wasn’t the fact that he asked the hard questions one of the things she loved most about him… Loved? Yes. The answer smoothed all of her ragged edges.
“Neither of us was in an enviable situation. We both did the best we could.” She raised her fingers to the corner of the towel tucked between her breasts, releasing it and letting the towel drop. “Any more questions?”
“Not a damn one.” He started in on the rest of his shirt buttons.
“Good.” She shoved his shoulders so he flopped back onto her bed hard enough that the inky-blue decorative pillows went flying. “Then let’s get on with this holiday.”
Crawling up his body, she glided her cheek over his hard thighs and the even harder cock pushing against his pant leg before sitting up with a little extra drama and throwing her head back so the damp strands of her hair slapped against her bare back. Judging by the dark, hungry look he aimed at her stiff nipples, Dom obviously liked the show and how it had made her breasts jiggle. Ignoring the temptation to dangle her breasts in his face and let him have a lick, she straddled his hips and knocked away his hands from the buttons on his shirt. Giving him a sassy wink, she set to work stripping him bare.
“Oh, you think you’re in charge?” He stretched and rested his hands behind his head, amusement curling his lips into a smirk.
“I know I am.” And he was about to find out exactly what that meant.
In a flash, his palms were on her hips, his fingers curled into her flesh, sending a delicious shiver through her. “I could have you on your back and spread wide for me in two seconds.”
“My bed”—she peeled off one of his hands from her flesh—“my rules.” The other came up without a fight, and she leaned forward, making sure to let her nipples come tantalizingly close to his lips, and placed his hands above his head.
“What are those?” he asked.
The vein in his temple went into overdrive, but he kept his hands where she put them, watching her close as she sat, this time farther down on his thighs.
Dropping her hands to his pants’ top button, she dragged her teeth across her bottom lip and gave him a cocky wink as the button popped free. “You sit back, and I do everything I can to make you lose control.”
He tensed underneath her. “I don’t lose control.”
“You’ve never been in my bed before.” She cupped him through the thin material that did little to lessen the effect touching his dick had on both of them.
“Okay, then.” He let out a half moan, half sigh, and let his eyes close. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”
She pulled down his zipper and slid her hand inside so she could wrap her fingers around the velvety heat of his cock. One, two, three slow strokes in the tight confines of his pants and Dom’s jaw had tightened, his hands fists against the fluffy white pillows.
“Lift your hips,” she demanded, her own lust turning her voice husky.
He did, and she yanked his pants down over his round ass, tree trunk–strong thighs, and over the rest of the blond hair–covered legs. After tossing the pants aside, she began to work her way back up his legs, slow and easy with light touches and the barest of kisses on his inner thighs until she met the base of his standing cock. She wrapped her hand aroun
d him again, and he twitched under her touch, the head swollen and wet. Keeping her tongue flat, she licked her way up the shaft to the top, sucking him in and tasting the salty proof of his desire.
His ass tightened, and he moaned, but he didn’t thrust into her mouth, filling her like she wanted—and she wanted all of him. So she took him. Deep. Using her lips, her tongue, and her hands on his balls, she took him in until she didn’t think she could anymore.
“Fuck, Elle, that is so good.” His praise came out harsh and strained, right on the edge of losing control.
Right where she wanted him. Relenting, she released him and started slow and steady strokes as her other hand worked the base, twisting with enough pressure to make him gasp with pleasure. Looking up, she found his eyes were no longer closed. He watched her as she lavished the kind of attention on his dick that he’d given her earlier.
Keeping her gaze locked on him, she moved her hands to his lean hips, tracing her nails across the taut muscles of his ass, and then lowered her mouth inch by glorious inch until she took all of him in her mouth and began to slide back until only the tip remained. She gave it a soft suck, and that’s when he broke. A groan tore from his mouth, and his hands were buried in her hair, tangling in the damp strands, as he thrust up. Digging her nails into his ass, she held on as his hips rose and fell in time with the up and down strokes of her mouth. Again and again and again she slid him between her wet lips until he finally lost his battle with control and released it all with an orgasm that left him panting and her licking the last of him from her lips like a cat enjoying the last drops of cream.
Still catching his breath, he peeked at her through half-open eyes. “You look way too happy with yourself.”
That satisfied growl disguised as a smart-ass remark did things to her insides. She wasn’t sure if she should be glad he’d come into her life, if only for such a short time, or if she should be wishing he’d never kidnapped her from Dylan’s in the first place.
“Are you saying I need to work on my technique?” She gave his still half-hard cock a light stroke, confident her skills were top-notch and he knew it.
“No.” He locked his legs around her hips and tumbled her onto her back. “I’m saying now it’s my turn.”
…
Looking down at her, her cheeks flushed with anticipation and her bare tits rising and falling with each fast breath, Dom forgot his name for a second.
“What’s wrong?” she asked as she trailed her fingers through the deep valley between her tits. “Did you forget what comes next?”
There it was, the challenge he hadn’t realized he’d grown to crave from her.
“You’ve got some mouth on you.” That tasted of home and the future and infinite possibilities.
“I seem to recall you like that part of me,” she said and blew a kiss at him.
Beauty, brains, and a sharp tongue. She was fucking fantastic. How easy would it be to fall in love with her? Not that he could. Not that he would. But for tonight he could pretend that it was just them. No queen. No billionaire. No country on the edge. Just two people who had one night left before her jet took off at seven p.m. tomorrow. He wasn’t going to be with Elle then, but he sure as hell was with her now, and he was going to make it count.
She reached up and cupped his face in her small hands, all the teasing flirtation that had lit up her face before replaced by concern digging lines across her forehead. “What is it?”
“You’re amazing.” And it was the most truthful thing he’d ever told her.
“Why, sir,” she said in a fake southern accent that couldn’t cover the worry in her voice. “You’re going to make me blush.”
“No. Really. It’s enough to make me wish…” What, that she wasn’t Princess Eloise? That their lives wouldn’t separate for good as soon as she got on that jet? That the one goal he’d had for most of his adult life would fall to the wayside so he could be with her? That he could kidnap her again, only this time to be queen of nothing more than his private island in the Caribbean?
The creases in her forehead smoothed, and her lips curled into a bittersweet smile. “Yeah, me too.”
He stared at her, searching for words…for an explanation…for understanding, but he wasn’t equipped for this, for falling in love with Elle. So he said with actions what he couldn’t get out in words.
The kiss was gentle, a brush of his lips against hers, and he poured everything he had into the soft exploration of her mouth. She opened beneath him, and he slipped his tongue inside, every part of him focused on taking her higher. He caressed her silky smooth skin, gliding his palms over her, memorizing her every curve. The gentle slope of her tits topped by blush-colored nipples that grew harder under his touch as he rolled them between his fingers, tugging just hard enough to make her sigh into the kiss.
It was a sound, so needy and wanting, that broke him all over again, and like before Dom let go of the control that gave him some emotional distance from Elle. He tore his mouth from hers, tracing kisses across her jaw and down the column of her throat.
“Dom, I need you.”
“What do you need, sweetheart?” He sucked one of her puckered nipples into his mouth, relishing her desire and desperate moan, and skimmed his palm over her stomach.
She lifted her hips in response. “You inside me.”
“I can give you this.” He slid one finger and then a second between her slick folds.
Her eyes squeezed shut; she undulated against him. “That feels so good.”
Keeping his strokes shallow, he teased her, drawing out the pleasure. “You’re so tight for me.”
“For you. Always for you.”
“That’s right.” He added his thumb to the mix, swirling it around her clit as he curled his fingers inside her to rub against the bundle of nerves inside her entrance. “For me.”
She reached up, holding onto his shoulders as if she was afraid he’d go before she got where she needed to go. “Don’t stop.”
“Never.”
Her eyes snapped open at the promise he couldn’t keep. At that moment he saw it all in her eyes’ depths. The hope. The fear. The yearning. She knew, just like he did, that this moment was fleeting. Like the fog across the grasslands in Elskov, it would dissipate, leaving only memories and the endless wondering about what could have been. And if he didn’t love her already, that epiphany would have sealed it for him. Even though he couldn’t keep her, she was his, just as he was hers.
“I know,” he whispered, not trusting himself to say it louder. “I know.”
Her fingers dug into his shoulders as he stroked her, increasing his speed in time with her moans and the rise of her hips as she ground against his palm, faster and harder, until her body went rigid underneath him and she climaxed.
“Dom,” she sighed, a satisfied smile curling her lips as she pulled his face down to hers and kissed him with enough passion to knock him kneeless.
Pulling away, intent on finding his pants and the condom in his wallet, he turned to the end of the bed.
“Don’t do it,” she said.
For a heartbeat he thought she meant she wanted him to take her away from Elskov and everything waiting for her there. He whipped his head around to face her and saw nothing but lust and steely determination.
“I’m on the pill. I’m clean. I want to feel you.”
God, could he take it? “Are you sure?”
“Without a doubt. Right now you’re mine, and I’m yours.” She crooked a finger at him. “Come back here.”
Shoving aside everything else but the here and now, he did. Sliding his body over hers, he lined himself up with her entrance and then plunged inside with one long thrust. This was what he wanted. No barriers. No lies of omission. Just them, with nothing in between. The pleasure was overwhelming.
“You feel so fucking good,” he managed to get out, trying to give her time to adjust to him.
“I think that’s my line.” She raised her hips, taking h
im deeper until he was buried to the hilt.
It was too much and not nearly enough. He couldn’t hold back anymore. Thrusting inside her and withdrawing with increasing fury, he lost himself in her. Again and again, he plunged forward and retreated to the sound of her mewls of pleasure that only made his balls tighten as he neared the point of no return.
“Elle, I can’t hold off much—”
“Come inside me, Dom,” she demanded. “I want to feel you spill into me.”
It only took one more stroke for him to bury himself balls deep in her warmth before he did, his orgasm crashing through him like a tsunami, washing away everything but Elle.
Rolling to the side before he collapsed on top of her, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. Neither of them said anything as they snuggled close. No doubt she was trying to make sense of what had just happened as much as he had. Nothing made sense anymore except for Elle, and that scared him more than any threat from the Fjende possibly could.
Chapter Twelve
Three hours later according to the digital clock, Elle stretched out in the empty bed and wished she could make time stop. Dom’s phone had rung a few minutes ago, and he’d apologized before taking the call in the library on the other side of that crazy Scooby-Doo hidden door. No doubt more business—that she’d have to pry out of him—about how to get her into the Kronig without tipping off the Fjende. The man was damned frustrating with how under wraps he kept every bit of planning.
Still naked as she’d been when she’d had the best sex of her life a few hours ago—so good the glow of it clung to her skin—she got out of bed as quietly as possible and crept across the bedroom to the hidden door. It wasn’t closed all the way, letting through the conversation the other side. Straining to hear, she leaned close to the opening.