by Violet Paige
“Oh.” I watched the tiny shops of the village drift by. I had never been to Sangreaux. I wanted to stroll through the streets with Damon. Peek in the toy store. Buy chocolate from the candy shop. Stop by the local bar and sample martinis topped with their famous olives. But Damon didn’t see any of the charm. I knew the village wasn’t part of tonight’s surprise.
The car finally stopped. I peered around the corner and saw a marina. At the end of a line of boats was an enormous white yacht.
Damon stepped from the car and waited for me outside.
Were we sailing on that? I could count three tiers. There was possibly another one beneath the water’s surface.
Damon offered his arm. I slipped my hand through, connecting our elbows.
“This is your surprise.” He nodded at the yacht.
“It’s amazing. Is this yours?”
He nodded as I noticed the royal crest of Sauvage.
I took one of the crew members hands as he walked me along the plank. It was only wide enough for one person to pass at a time. Damon was directly behind me.
“Your Majesty.” The crew bowed in unison once we were aboard. “Your state rooms have been prepared.”
I looked at him. State rooms? I thought we were staying at the hotel tonight.
I knew better than to question him in front of the crew. I followed as they led us through the tight corridor.
The door opened and I stared at the bedroom. There were windows on three sides. A huge bed anchored against one wall, looking out on the sea. Everything was white and bright like the outside of the ship.
“Leave us,” Damon instructed.
I had expected to be shown a separate room. Ayla explained that when traveling, we would have to be kept in separate quarters. It was the only way to protect the sanctity of the crown. I realized no one was aware that the leader of the country was a member of The Titan’s secret society. The sanctity had already been spoiled.
“What is going on?” I asked now that we were alone.
He sat on the bed, dragging my hips to him. He pressed his lips to my navel. I heard a growl in his throat. His breath was warm through the black silk dress.
“Damon,” I urged. “I don’t understand. Something has upset you.”
“There aren’t many days when I wish I wasn’t king.”
“That bad?” I ran my fingers through his hair. He looked in my eyes. That look made me melt. Made me forget all rational thought. It was sexy and forlorn at the same time.
The captain blew the horn and we departed from the dock. I lulled into him when the yacht sped into the channel.
“Are you going to tell me what happened to your good mood? Everything was fine at the olive grove.”
His fingers dug into my sides, pulling my dress higher along my thighs. The slit fell open.
“I need you,” he groaned.
I nodded. “I need you too.” I feathered my fingers over his ears.
“It can’t be dictated. It can’t be controlled.” He lifted my hem, revealing the satin panties that matched the black dress.
My breathing escalated as his mouth began to explore exposed slivers of skin. I pushed my hips forward. He nipped at the satin, taking it roughly in his teeth.
“You’re mine.”
I nodded. “Yes.”
“Mine when I want you.” He pushed the panties to the widest curve of my ass.
“Yes,” I whispered.
His tongue worked to separate my folds, pushing to my clit.
The boat rocked gently and I leaned forward, catching myself on Damon’s broad shoulders.
“Shit,” I groaned. His tongue lapped deeper.
“Take these off,” he directed.
I shimmied out of the panties without question. He leaned backward on the bed.
“I want dessert first.”
Holy shit. I’d never done anything like this. I climbed on top of the king, fully dressed in his tuxedo. My evening gown, splayed around me. I hesitated, but Damon was strong. He planted me right above his face. His tongue traced over my entrance as I sank down.
“Oh God,” I whimpered. My head falling back as I began to lose control.
His tongue darted in and out as I rode faster. My hips jutted against the friction he provided my clit. I was soaring high quickly. I looked out at the sea. Damon’s fingers began to explore my thighs and then I felt the pressure on my backside.
I bounced when his finger breached the rim of my rosebud. It felt too good. Epic sensations coursed through me.
“Come, baby. Come for me.”
He sucked my clit powerfully, pushing his finger deep in my ass. It was a beautiful combination of erotic vibrations, ricocheting from my pussy to my ass.
“Oh yes.” I panted, feeling the freedom that followed the first breach of the orgasm. I gave in. Falling. Spiraling. Crashing. Until I was useless.
Damon kissed the inside of my thigh, before directing it to the other side of his body.
I sighed. No man made me feel like he did. I thought it was a heat-of-the-moment sex confession, but I started to believe I really did belong to him.
There was a ding, similar to a door bell.
“What is that?” I asked. I had barely caught my breath.
“That is dinner.” He sat forward, straightening his tie. “Shall we?”
“But I—look at me.” I was flushed and my straight hair was wild.
“You look sexy.” He winked.
I leaned to the floor for my panties.
“Leave them.”
“What?” My eyes cut to him.
“I have more surprises. Don’t touch them.”
He helped me stand from the bed. I straightened my dress. “You know Ayla would die if she knew I was going to dinner without underwear.”
He squeezed my hand. “We’re going to have to keep lots of secrets, love.”
I leaned against his shoulder. I liked how it sounded when he said we.
Twenty-Five
Damon
The crew let us dine alone. I assured them we could pour our own champagne. I didn’t need them hovering. For once I wanted to forget the servitude that surrounded me.
Molly looked beautiful in the candlelight, but I realized she looked beautiful anywhere, under any circumstance. I needed her kind of purity. It steadied me when I thought I would crash.
“Now that everyone is gone, can you please tell me what happened between the time we arrived at the hotel and when we met for our date?” She took a bite of salad.
I wasn’t used to sharing, for many reasons. As king I didn’t have to express feelings or thoughts. I didn’t govern in a partnership with my siblings. I issued orders. It was my country.
And now there was an angelic woman who had pure intent behind her questions. It was hard to ignore her naiveté. However, what happened today involved her. I made a decision to include her.
“I’m pleased Ayla is so good at her job. She kept you away from phones and TV.”
Molly placed her fork on the side of her plate. “Why? What did I miss?”
“You are Galona’s new mystery woman.”
“What?”
“The trip in the grove. When you fell? There are pictures taking over every headline. It’s plastered everywhere.”
“Oh no. Oh no, no, no.” She shook her head. “That wasn’t supposed to happen.”
“No, it was a simple accident. But it has catapulted us somewhere I didn’t expect.”
She reached for her champagne. “I don’t understand. It just happened a few hours ago. It was a trip. Shit.”
I smiled. I loved it when her pretty lips uttered dirty words. “The picture looks like I rescued you from falling to your death. I’ve been painted as a fucking romantic, and you’re the American damsel.”
“Ok. That I don’t like.” She cracked a smile. “Except the romantic part. You did plan a private dinner on a gorgeous yacht off the coast of Sangreaux. That kind of defines romantic.”
“I called Kenley and Sutcliffe. Kenley is working on a way to re-focus the press’s attention on the olive grove funding. Sutcliffe is working on a way to move you into the palace.”
She blinked. Her sapphire eyes alive under the candlelight. “Move into the palace? You can’t be serious.”
I nodded. “Oh, I’m serious, Molly. He will find a way to make it work with royal protocol.”
“Royal protocol? I’m not interested in protocol. I have a place. I have a roommate. We live downtown.”
“Neither of which can keep you safe against the press. It’s necessary for your safety.”
She scrunched her nose together. It would have been adorable had she not been so pissed at me. “You can’t just move me into the palace.”
I sighed. I had forgotten this part. “Right. How about like this? Molly, will you please move into the palace so I can protect you from paparazzi and rabid citizens who may believe you are a threat to national security?”
She threw her napkin in her lap. “No.” She pushed back from the table.
“I asked. That was what you wanted, isn’t it?” I dropped my fork and walked over to her.
She spun to face me. “Asking is not supposed to be an afterthought, Damon. If you don’t see that, then I don’t see how I can keep doing this.”
“I don’t have time to consider what everyone wants. That’s not a luxury I have. I have many others, but not time.” I pressed my gaze into hers. “I need you to be safe.”
That was all that mattered. Her safety. Her wellbeing. How else could I guarantee any kind of normalcy for her in Freychon if she didn’t have security? She wasn’t thinking clearly.
Her eyes fell to the floor. “This has all been amazing. Beautiful really. But I can’t be with a man who thinks I’m a treat. A trinket to carry around in his pocket.” Her blue eyes lifted and I saw the mist along her lashes. “You can tell Sutcliffe he doesn’t have to worry about damage control.”
She gathered her train and started for the door. I grabbed her arm, spinning her to my chest.
“No, Molly.”
Her eyes landed on mine. “You were right that first night. It was a fantasy.”
My ribs crushed against my lungs, squeezing the air into tight and uncomfortable places.
I didn’t want to let her go. I had no intention of letting her through that door, but I had never begged. Fuck. What was this woman doing to me?
Twenty-Six
Molly
I didn’t know I had that kind of resolve, but the words flew out of my mouth before I had a chance to fully consider the consequences of breaking up with the king. I didn’t want to go, but it was the only way I could survive this without letting him shatter every part of me.
I got it. He was a king. People jumped when he snapped. But I couldn’t be discounted so easily. I had let myself fall for the fantasy. Believe that beneath the cool exterior, he was as insane about me as I was about him. That when it came to decisions, he would be the knight in shining armor. The romantic. The Prince Charming I was a fool to believe in.
I wiped the first heavy tear with my thumb. I refused to fall apart in front of him. I tried to break for the door a second time, but Damon’s grip was forceful.
“Stay, Molly.” It was the first time I didn’t hear command in his voice. “Please, stay.”
It wouldn’t be that easy.
“I could,” I answered. “But it will happen again. You’ll demand I do something. You’ll make a decision without asking. Not because you’re trying to be a dick, but because you don’t know how to do this relationship thing any other way.”
“Did you just call me a dick?”
I pressed my lips. That might have gone too far. “Yes. When we’re alone, and it’s you and me. No titles. None of the royal bullshit, yes, you can be a dick. No other man would think it was even an option to just decide things the way you do. You plan without asking. You dictate. You’re a dick. I said it.”
I didn’t expect him to laugh. His deep voice carried through the dining room.
“I’m being serious.” But the more I tried to prove my sincerity, the harder he laughed. “Fine. I’ll find a state room, and wait until we dock,” I warned. “You think it’s funny. I don’t.”
“No, Molly. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He stepped in front of me. “This goes both ways you know. No one treats me with such royal disdain as you do.” He arched his eyebrows.
“I respect you.” I folded my arms.
“My customs? Culture? Traditions?”
I twisted my lips together. I didn’t think it was the same thing. The parallel was a stretch. I had slighted his authority as Galona’s king multiple times, but how did that equal the way he made decisions without asking me?
“All right. I don’t agree with everything Galonian. I’ll admit that. But I do respect you, Damon. You, the person. What you’re thinking. Feeling. I don’t ignore it. I don’t try to rule your life like it’s a hobby.”
He clasped my hands between his. “Then, teach me. Show me. You’re not my hobby. Fuck, that’s the last thing I want you to think.”
It was another ploy to get me to stay, but this one was working. I felt the tension easing in my shoulders. The determination to run down the hall and find a state room to cry in until we made it to shore was suddenly gone.
“I want you to move into the palace, Molly, because I want you.” He traced the line of my jaw. “I want you every night. In my bed. Waking up next to me. I want to talk to you and drink coffee on the balcony. I want to find you buried in some classic novel in the library.” He brushed his thumb over my bottom lip. “Yes, I need you to be safe. But what I should have said is, I need you.”
I gasped. That resolve was gone. He had ripped it down and tore through it with his words.
I fell against him as his lips crushed mine. His hands tangled in my hair, dragging me toward his chest.
“Move in with me,” he whispered against my ear. “Will you?”
I nodded. My hands roamed over his tuxedo, looking for the space under his jacket. “Yes.” I breathed. “Yes.”
“Are you finished with dinner?” he asked.
“I think so.” I hadn’t eaten half of the first course. I was starving, but my total attention was on the gorgeous man in front of me.
“Good, because I’m going to take you back to the room. Unless you want me to fuck you here on the dining room table. Your choice, of course,” he teased.
My eyes lit with his. I breathed heavily. I pulled the edge of the gown up.
“Here,” I whispered.
“Fuck,” he growled. “You are serious.”
His hands wrapped around my waist, losing control. He kissed my neck. My throat. The fire from his lips blazing against my skin. I searched for his zipper, desperate to feel his cock in my hands.
He groaned when I freed it from his tux pants. I slid my hand over the silkiness of his skin.
He pulled me in for another kiss, setting me on the end of the dining table. My heels locked against his backside, hungry for him. Eager for his skin to singe mine as he took me in heated abandon.
His tongue lashed against mine as the rush consumed us. Damon’s cock pushed against my entrance and I welcomed his thrusts with tiny cries of pleasures.
It was dangerous. Someone could walk through those doors any minute. But we weren’t turning back. He rocked into me as we set sail on a new course.
“Yes,” I pleaded. “More.”
He plunged again, sending us over the edge. It was then I knew it was too late. Neither of us had thought through the consequences. His release filled me as he pumped deep inside my walls. He pressed his forehead to mine. Our bodies trying to find a natural breathing pattern, but it was impossible.
“I don’t want you to leave, Molly.”
“I don’t want to either.”
He reached for a nap
kin, handing it to me as I hopped from the table. The stickiness between my legs reminded me how careless we had been.
He kissed my hand, leading me back to my seat. “Should we finish dinner?” he asked. He didn’t seem to be alarmed we had forgone a condom, or had sex on the royal dining room table.
“I’m suddenly extremely hungry,” I joked. If he wasn’t going to worry about it, I wouldn’t let it ruin the evening.
He pushed the seat in underneath me. I reached for the champagne, drinking it faster than I should.
Somehow things seemed settled between us. As if our bodies did the talking, but I did need some details.
“How is this going to work?” I asked. “My move?”
Damon refilled our glasses. “I’m not sure, to be honest. Sutcliffe has been instructed to come up with a plan. We’ll have the details when we arrive in Freychon tomorrow.”
“This won’t interfere with my dissertation work, will it?”
“No. Other than the inconvenience of having royal escorts, you can do anything you normally do. Although, I think the royal library has a lot you can use. I can fly in anything you request.”
“You’d do that?” I had to keep my lips together.
He smiled. “Yes.”
“True, but I do have a roommate.” I tried to think how Brooklyn was going to handle this news.
“She was the one with you at the gala?”
I nodded. “It was actually her night. Something on her bucket list. I tagged along to supervise.”
He laughed. “That’s such an American concept.”
“Why do you say that? Everyone should have a bucket list.”
Damon leaned against the table. “What we did five minutes ago—was that on your bucket list?”
I blushed. “It should have been.” My bucket list consisted of seeing rare collections of text, visiting historic libraries, and traveling to New Zealand. It was probably a one-of-a-kind combination of wanderlust and thirst for knowledge.
“Just live, Molly. Don’t worry about crossing things off an imaginary list. I promise you’ll have more fun that way. Maybe even tonight.” He winked.