35
Maybe I don’t understand women nearly as well as I think. He stared at her retreating back, trying to figure out what had just happened. He was fairly certain that his revelation would have put her into an emotional tailspin, and yet here she was telling him: Well, that should be interesting.
What could he do that would keep her from shutting herself out?
Like any other man, he wasn’t raised to be tied down by a woman whose priorities overrode his own. Besides, he enjoyed taking charge of the situation entirely too much. It wasn’t that he thought he was the only person capable of handling situations, it was just the fact that he knew how to succeed.
Too many of the women he knew were just waiting for the man to take control. They might say they wanted to take control of their own lives, to be the ruler of their own moments. But as soon as he showed up and told them what to do, they marched along with smiles on their faces.
Watching her take charge in the aftermath of the explosion had been an eye-opening experience for him. And then being there to support her through everything in the days after had been quite a rewarding experience.
He didn’t know what thoughts spun inside her mind. Didn’t know why she was resisting something shed seemed to want.
But one thing he knew—she wanted him. Just as badly as he wanted her. He wanted her supple body wrapped around his, wanted her mouth on his. Or on his cock. He wasn’t picky. He wanted her cries of abandon in his ears, her sweet taste in his mouth.
He jumped out of the bed and entered the bathroom.
She was already soaked, her head thrown back, her raven hair plastered to the elegant slope of her back, water droplets cascading down her breasts—the sexiest pair of breasts he’d ever seen. They were a little fuller than a handful, with dark-rosy-tipped nipples begging to be sampled. And her bottom? He licked his lips. Her bottom was perfectly curved, full enough to overflow in his hands.
He couldn’t hold back a moment longer. Everything inside him cracked, needing contact. Beyond desperate.
He stepped into the shower, closed all hint of distance between them, and rubbed his erection in the crevice of her ass, his hands closing around her breasts. He loved that she wasn’t just skin and bones. “So lovely.”
She gave a shuddering gasp and tried to turn around to face him, but he locked her in place by resting his chin on top of her head.
At first she stiffened. Gradually, though, she relaxed against him.
He reached around her and grabbed the natural-made lavender and sugar grains bar of soap she used every morning.
“You were made for sex, weren’t you?” he purred into her ear and laved the delicate shell with his tongue. You were made for me, really.
Her head fell onto his shoulder in open invitation, an action that said, Do with me what you will.
He lathered his hands, set the soap on its perch and began the slow—really slow—process of washing her from head to toe. His soapy fingers snaked around her nipples, along the soft curve of her hips, on the sweet roundness of her belly.
She gave a small groan, the sound eager and just for him. He could see that she’d closed her eyes and was nibbling on her bottom lip, breathy little sighs emerging every few seconds.
“Do you like having someone wash you?” His touch was rougher than he’d intended as he soaped her arms.
“Sí.”
“Are you still dirty?”
“Sí.”
He would show her the pleasures of showering with a man—with him. “Where?”
“Everywhere,” was her raspy answer.
He almost smiled. Almost. His desire was too dark for humor. Except blended with the darkness was wonder and awe.
Women had always been a pleasant convenience, nothing more. He treated them with respect and tenderness, but nothing more. Deeper affection or constant connection was something he’d never wanted nor needed.
Now he was realizing how precious a woman could be. And he’d never been afraid of losing one. But he was right now.
He savored her, his hands lingering on her skin. Enjoying.
He licked his way down several of her vertebra, and dropping to his knees, kissed the curve of Angelica’s lower back, massaged her ass. “I’ll have your ass soon.”
“Hmm,” she gasped, widening her legs for him to wash her inner thighs. “I—I’d like that.”
He would too, he was sure. Because he liked everything about her; with her.
Unable to resist a moment more, he inserted two fingers into the very heat of her.
“Oh…” She leaned back against him, spreading her legs wider, silently asking for more.
She was slick, hot. Tight. He stroked her, gently pinched her swollen core.
“Oh!” She jumped away from his erotic touch, then spun around to face him.
He trailed a finger down the valley of her breasts and flicked it over her nipples. “Perfect pink nipples made for my mouth.”
“Taste them,” she invited, pushing her breasts up for him.
He sucked one hard bud into his mouth, surrounding it with hot, wet intensity.
Angelica moaned. She threw back her head and arched toward him, a plea for more.
He let his tongue dabble, flicking back and forth, then sampled the other one, giving it the same treatment. His blood burned for more.
He kissed her. Her mouth opened, welcoming his tongue. He thrust it inside, angling his head to go deeper, to take more, to feed her as much as she needed.
Her flavor tantalized him, minty, feminine. His chest flattened against her breasts, her nipples so hard they stabbed at his skin. He could feel the erratic hammer of her heartbeat. He bent his knees and pushed her up against the wall.
She gasped again, shivered as cold marble hit her back. Hands tangled in his hair, gripping, pulling him closer, legs snaked around his waist. His erection probed her, desperate to enter.
“Ludwig, please.”
Droplets of water fell from his eyelashes onto his chin. He wanted to brush them away, to see her more clearly. “Tell me you want me.”
“I want you,” Angelica all but shouted. She stared down at him, as if she couldn’t believe they were having this conversation here and now. “Ludwig.”
“Tell me you need me.”
“I need you.”
At least she hadn’t hesitated. Something inside him softened, melted.
“Where do you want to be?” he asked, the words almost a plea. Need me as much as I need you.
Maybe it was the water. Maybe it was the steam. Her eyes seemed to mist over, a curtain of vulnerability falling over her face.
“With you,” she replied softly. “Only with you.”
When he slammed inside her in a hard thrust, a blissful cry left her mouth. So, he slid back and slammed forward again. He wished to be gentle, but couldn’t have stopped himself even if he’d wanted to. There was so much fire. White-hot. Blistering. An inferno pulsing inside of him.
“Angelica.” He bit her lower lip and a bead of blood leaked onto his tongue, a metallic taste.
She moaned and bit him back, returning the passion with a fervor that surprised him. Their teeth banged together as he rocked into her, in and out, shallow and deep, long and short, as he carried her higher.
No man had ever penetrated her but him. No man had ever tasted her sweetness but him. Angelica was like a drug and one little taste beckoned him to take more, do more. Experience all.
She arched against him, panting, wild, frantic for release. Her fingers moved to his back and squeezed, kneaded. Her nails scored his skin. He didn’t think she was aware of her actions. Her head was thrashing from side to side and her eyes were closed.
Her teeth sank into his collarbone and he almost came. Almost spilled then and there.
“I’ll make you come,” he told her, fighting for his own control.
“Sí. Come.” She released him to grip her own breasts, to pinch the nipples between her fingers.
“Just fuck me,” she commanded roughly. “Don’t stop fucking me.”
He was already on edge and didn’t want to push himself too far. Yet. He barely had a hold on his desire as it was.
He didn’t want to hurt her but he was helpless against his actions, couldn’t stop himself now. But her breathless moans and passionate cries told him to keep going.
She reached the edge. Fell. The orgasm rocked her entire body. Her inner walls clamped down on his erection, holding him captive in those gates to heaven, in endless spams.
And when she shouted his name, he came. Hot seed spurted from him, his body jerking, muscles gripping bone in an iron clasp.
She caught his mouth in a desperate kiss as she shuddered again…never ending kiss…lasting forever…a kiss of fire and dreams and promises.
In that timeless eternity she became Pleasure, and he, simply a man who craved this woman. A man and a woman who lived in a world where they had no obligations or responsibilities.
When he opened his eyes, he was once again Ludwig and she was again Angelica.
Yet, nothing had ever felt so right. Nothing had ever felt so perfect.
Her eyelids were closed, lashes in wet spikes. There was a blissful, satisfied aura surrounding her, but he couldn’t dislodge the sudden thought that he’d been too rough, that he could have been gentler.
Like butterfly wings, her lashes fluttered open. Those chocolate orbs gazed up at him and she nibbled on her bottom lip, expression uncertain.
He shook his head, not yet ready to speak. Possessiveness was shooting through his every cell. In silence, he kissed her slowly, leisurely, thanking her for the pleasure.
When they finished washing themselves, he climbed out with her and palmed a towel from the cabinet. After wrapping it around her shoulders so that the material draped and warmed her, he grabbed one for himself.
Turning away from him, she patted her arms dry. Her actions were a little too slow, a little too measured, as if her mind were far away.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” She anchored the towel around her torso, blocking his view.
He scowled, determined to kill whoever had wielded the verbal fists. Because insecurity that strong had to have been beaten into her.
Hands on her shoulders, he spun her around. Their gazes collided. “What’s wrong?”
Silently, she studied him. Silently, she begged him to…what? He couldn’t tell. He said nothing.
Then she splayed her hands on his chest. “We’ll talk later.”
“Ja.” Not a question, he noticed, but a demand. He tried not to smile as he pulled her into his arms. Though he wished to spend the rest of the day with her, he knew that she could not. She had duties, hell, he had work. “We will talk.”
“You’re going to answer all my questions. No evasions.” She stared up at him, eyes narrowed.
Perhaps. “If you answer mine.”
“What? You’ll spank me if I’m a bad girl?”
Mein Gott. Where has this little firecracker come from? The provocative comment surprised him. He’d seen her ashamed, aroused, scared, excited, shocked, but not feisty like this.
“You don’t want to know what I’ll do,” he said, when he found his voice, “So do not tempt me.”
She rose on her tiptoes, her warm breath fanning his ear. The hard peaks of her nipples abraded his chest. He waited, unable to breathe as he anticipated what she would do next. He might not know where the firecracker had come from, but he knew she excited him.
“Maybe I like tempting you,” she whispered, and bit his earlobe. “Think about that while you’re in Lektenstaten.”
He would.
Oh, yes. He would.
36
Lekten
Lekten Royal Bank
Tuesday, May 24, 2016
3:50 p.m.
Ludwig had been focusing on the same report for the last hour and gotten absolutely nowhere.
Is this what it was like for the women I’ve tangled with before? He had always thought they were just being crazy. Stalking him. Catching him at parties and trying to pin him down. Putting themselves in his bed, trying to trap him into situations. One woman had even tried to get him to believe that she was pregnant with his child.
Someone knocked on the door, taking him out of his musings, and opened it without waiting for his order to come in.
Egon gave him a smile and walked in, followed by Angus. “Do you mind if we have a drink?”
Egon pulled out three glasses from the filing cabinet behind Ludwig, while Angus selected a bottle of his best whisky.
“I don’t think I’m much in the mood for conversation right now.”
“Don’t think we didn’t realize that.” Angus placed an ankle on his opposite knee and tapped his fingers on it. “However, we’re here because you need us. Not because you want us.”
“We saw the news,” said Egon.
Ludwig didn’t know how that had to do with anything. “And?”
“The good news,” Egon said, his tone dry, “is that people appreciate that Angelica was wearing the right shoes with her outfit. And, it was of utmost importance, apparently, that she knows how to stay hours standing in high-heels in the middle of rubble all the while helping the injured.”
“That was something I hadn’t even realized until Siobhan pointed it out to me.” Angus accepted the glass from Egon. “Thank you. It doesn’t matter what a princess does in public. The biggest headline she will make on a regular basis will be about what she’s wearing.”
That wasn’t entirely true. Angelica was quite capable of making the headlines, the kind that had nothing to do with what she wore, or what color her suit was. But Ludwig had realized there was always this distorted focus on women, even when what they were doing had nothing to do with fashion. “Are they saying anything about me?”
The one thing Angelica did not need was a scandal.
“Oddly,” Egon said, regaining his seat, “No. You are just a nameless person who was helping her.”
At least there’s that. And then another thought struck him. He turned to Angus. “I thought you were still on your honeymoon.”
“Siobhan saw the headlines and insisted on coming home early. When I left her, she was on the phone with her brother.”
Ludwig assumed Angus meant Valantín because he doubted Jaxon would have any information that would be important to her. “I don’t know what you hope to accomplish here.”
Egon raised his glass in salute. “We both agreed that we needed to be here to support you on your first ever case of lovesickness.”
“She got under your skin but…I have an impression you will face a few obstacles,” Angus said softly, almost as if he was talking to an angry dog. “Am I wrong?”
If Ludwig was being honest with himself, he might admit he almost felt like an angry dog. He wanted to snap at something. He wanted to lash out. But he could do none of that. To do so, would be to disrespect the woman he had fallen madly in love with.
If I can’t be honest with my friends, who can I be honest with? “Nein. You are right.”
“And you don’t know what to do,” Egon stated.
Ludwig fell back into his chair and stared at both of his friends. He needed a moment where he could just be honest with himself and with others. No walls, no barriers. No political masks. “I really don’t.”
Angus tipped his head to the side. “Maybe if you tell us what happened, we can devise a plan.”
They might be onto something. “I took her home after your wedding and we had a great time here. Wonderful, really.”
“He even took her to Django’s granddaughter’s wedding.” Egon filled Angus in, which got Angus’s eyebrows to shoot up. “And then she left without saying goodbye and he was heartbroken. I told him to go after her.”
Angus set his glass on his knee. “But you are not in a relationship from what I gather by reading th
e newspapers.”
“She’s…in a difficult moment, focused on her own country.” Ludwig gestured with this free hand. “And, I think, that is what frustrates me the most. I’m trying to find a way to fit my life into hers, but I am not sure if she’s going to accept me.”
Angus’s eyes pinched at the corners. “I keep forgetting how lucky we are here in our political situation. They are not so lucky in Aragon.”
“That I know.”
“And yet,” Egon said quietly, “here you are making the final arrangements to move there.”
“You should’ve seen her.” Ludwig’s heart soared at just the thought of seeing her. “She was like a flower that had been forced to remain as a bud for so long and was finally allowed to bloom for the first time. The people loved her.”
Angus flicked his gaze at Egon, and then both men looked at him and broke out laughing.
“What?” Ludwig was at a complete loss as to what was so funny about what he’d said.
“You should hear yourself spouting poetry,” Egon said, wiping tears from his eyes.
“This is beautiful,” Angus said. “The man who’s slept with untold numbers of the world’s most beautiful women is a virgin when it comes to love.”
Egon asked, “Is that true, Ludwig? Have you never been in love before?”
He had to think for a moment, but when he did, he realized it was true. “I’ve loved. But I don’t think I can say I was ever in love.”
But he still didn’t see what was so funny about it.
Palacio del Al-Andaluz
Already in bed, Angelica struggled to read the reports on her computer screen. Her mind kept slipping back to Ludwig. She pictured him in her shower, the water cascading down his back, over his body. She could imagine herself stepping in behind him as he did with her the last time they were together. As if he knew she was thinking of him, a message from him blinked on her screen:
Arriving in one hour. I have a surprise for you.
She was glad he was coming back tonight. Three days without him seemed an eternity.
Royal Affair Page 22