To Dream of You: The Royal House of Atharia, Book 1

by Gill, Tamara

  None came. If anything, the more they kissed, the more she burned, her body alight and shuddering, aching for the man who held her hard against him. One of his hands dived into her hair, wrenching her closer. The action was bold, hard, and with an underlining demand that made her heart soar.

  No one had ever kissed her this way. Held her captive and took what they wanted. What she wanted. She lost her breath when a growl of need reverberated from Drew. His kisses did not stop. He drank from her as she did him. Her fingernails scored his shoulders as heat licked at her skin, an ache at her core.

  There was something that she wanted, but could not name. The more he kissed her in the sea, the waves rolling past them, oblivious to their surroundings, the more her body changed, came alive, yearned for another person, and not just any person, but Drew.

  His hold increased, and his hand slipped to her bottom. With a lazy squeeze, he kneaded her backside. It was only then that Holly felt the hard line of his desire against the inside of her leg.

  Had she done that to him?

  A heady feeling came over her, and she undulated against his manhood, her core snug against his. She gasped and pulled back to stare at Drew when pleasure resulted from her brazenness. His eyes, hooded, blazing with heat, stared back. His chest rose and fell as if he'd run a mile.

  "We should stop, Your Highness," he said, not letting her go despite his words.

  Not that Holly wanted to go anywhere. She wanted more kisses from Drew, more of his touch. He was a distraction she hadn't known she needed before becoming the ruler of her people. The thought of letting him go, of marrying another man, a man of royal birth who did not raise the feelings and emotions that Drew did within her left her cold.

  She shivered.

  He started walking her back toward the shore, not letting her out of his arms. "You'll catch a chill. We shall return to the house."

  She nodded, taking the opportunity to slide her hand through the hair at his nape, reveling in its softness. Once they made the beach, he set her down, stepping back.

  "I do not know what this means, what is happening between us, but I find myself unable to deny you anything." Drew ran a hand across the back of his neck, holding it there.

  Holly stared at him, uncertain what was happening either, but knowing she did not want what they had to end. He was the sweetest man she had ever met, and for the first time ever in her life, she felt alive. To be desired as a woman—not because she had been born with a crown atop her head—was an elixir she could become addicted to.

  "Can we not simply enjoy what is happening between us and leave it at that, my lord? I do not need any more complications in my world. Being with you like this, kissing you whenever I like, is a little escape for me. Please do not take it away."

  Drew stared down at Holly, knowing to the center of his core that he could not deduct anything from her life, certainly not himself. She made his heart sing, and his body burn, and he was loath to let any of it slip away.

  He knew that their time would come to an end, but he’d be buggered if he would let her go while he could delight in her world.

  "I will acquiesce to your request, Your Highness. I will not ask anything more of you than you're willing to give." To take a step back from Holly, from how all his love affairs in the past had meted out was foreign and strange, but he needed to remember the woman before him was a virgin. An unmarried woman of royal birth. A crown princess for heaven's sake.

  She could not dally with him, not while away her time in his bed and beneath him, no matter how much he may wish she could. She would return home soon, take her rightful place as queen and marry.

  She smiled at his words, wrapping her arms about his neck, grinning. "You do not mind? I do like, you, Drew, very much, but I need you to understand that I cannot offer or promise you anything. I do not have the same freedoms as you do."

  Drew pulled her close, wrapping her slight frame in his arms. "I understand. I shall take whatever you're willing to gift me. I will not push you for more." Even if the idea of leaving her in Atharia, to start a life without him, left an open, gaping wound where his heart currently sat.

  "I suppose with us being as close as we are, our acting as newlyweds will not be so much a chore. I can kiss you whenever it pleases me."

  Her sweet grin warmed his blood, and he reached up, pushing away wet hair that dared mar her angelic features. "And, I you," he whispered, leaning down and taking her lips. His body ached for her, his blood pumping fast in his veins.

  This was dangerous. She was dangerous, and he ought to move aside, let her go, and not join her in Atharia. Allow her to plan her attack without the added nuisance of a man falling about her skirts, but he could not walk away.

  Drew ignored the warnings going off in his mind, thrust them aside, and kissed her soundly. He'd never played by the rules in any case. There was little reason to start doing so now.

  Chapter 13

  The following evening after a delightful walk about the twilight gardens, Holly bathed and joined Drew in their room. Even though a devilish little part of her did desire seeing him shirtless once again, she knocked before entering. The thought of his golden skin, his muscular stomach that flexed with every breath, made her heart race.

  He was becoming a little bit of an obsession that she needed to cure herself of.

  All day she had found herself studying him, watching him as he read in the library, or how the wind played with his hair when they had walked about the gardens. Or how whenever he leaned down to kiss her, his eyes darkened with a determination that spiraled her wits.

  How had she allowed herself to become entangled with Drew? It was beyond comprehension for a princess. The occasional dark looks from Niccolo reminded her that she was not acting like herself. That she had permitted her usually stone veneer to crack a little to let someone in. To be with the real Holly whom, like most women, longed to be loved and adored for who they were, not what they had. Drew was a rich, titled gentleman. He had no need to marry for wealth or situation. To know that he asked for nothing more than a few stolen kisses, of time with her, was a gift no one had ever given her before.

  She walked to the bed, slipping off her robe and throwing it onto a nearby chair. Drew sat atop his, rubbing his neck as if it pained him.

  "Is your neck paining you, Drew?" she asked, observing him like some obsessed debutante.

  He glanced at her, letting the book he read slip from his lap. "I shall survive." He patted the space beside him. "Come here, Your Highness, I'm in need of my princess."

  She grinned, going to him without question, slipping into his arms as if they had already been married for years, not days. And fraudulent days at that.

  "Did you enjoy your bath?" he asked her, his hand idly rubbing along her side.

  "I did, thank you." Holly turned, looking up at him. "You may sleep in my bed if you wish." Heat bloomed on her cheeks before she corrected her meaning. "I mean, you may sleep in the bed, to sleep, and nothing else. We have already slept so on our journey here, and I trust you not to attempt anything untoward."

  He raised one brow, a wicked light entering his eyes. "You ought not to trust me. With such a sweet morsel beside me, I'm likely to take advantage."

  Holly chuckled, shaking her head. "I do not believe that you would." Even though the idea of Drew touching her left her hot and aching in places she had not known even existed before he washed up into her life.

  "I would not, no." He slipped down on the daybed a little more, pulling her into the crook of his arm. "You may sleep here with me if you choose. You're already here after all." Drew reached down, pulling the few blankets he had up over them both.

  The daybed was comfortable and soft, and to have Drew beside her made it equally delightful. She lay her hand upon his stomach, idly playing with the muscles that flexed under the nightshirt he wore. "You're very toned for a lord. I had always imagined the English peerage as men who ordered people about and ate with an unappeasable
gluttony."

  "You would be thinking of King Henry the VIII, and I can assure you as a peer of the realm that not all English gentlemen are the same."

  "You're nothing like King Henry and how very thankful I am of that fact." She continued to touch his stomach, being so bold as to move her hand farther on his person to the little V that she'd spied when he'd burst into her room during her bath.

  Drew stilled beneath her, a small gasp fanning her face.

  Holly glanced up. His eyes were closed, a small frown between his brows. Wickedness took hold, and she bit her lip, thinking of exploring him more. There was so very much to admire on his person, and if she did not take the opportunity now, she would forever regret her choice.

  There would be no admiring Drew, touching and kissing him when he left her in Atharia. She would watch him sail away, and her little adventure, her heart as she had started to fear, would sail out over the horizon to never be seen again.

  She looked back to where her hand slid over his lower abdomen. A woman would have to be blind not to see the jutting manhood. The pleasure made her lips twitch that he enjoyed her touch. A wicked curiosity tempted her to reach farther and touch him.

  When they had been in the water the day before, it appeared as hard as steel. And yet, not in any way threatening. She'd wanted to purr against it like a cat and soothe the ache that thrummed between her legs.

  Just as the throbbing was back now. She squeezed her legs together, being bolder than she ought and slid her hand down. She gasped at her first touch of him. Drew shook beneath her but did not try to halt her exploration. His manhood was hard, rigid, and jutted up toward his stomach.

  No matter how rigid it seemed, it was covered in the softest skin she had ever felt. Softer than velvet or silk.

  Astonishing!

  "You're killing me, Holly," he moaned, his hand reaching out to the bedding beside him, flexing the sheet into his fist.

  Excitement and boldness removed her caution. If she were to align her life with a man whom she did not love or find sexually alluring, at least she would have this moment. This night with Drew. Not that she would give herself to him fully, but lying here with him, touching him, giving him what she hoped was pleasure, was in itself pleasurable.

  "Show me how to please you," she whispered, reaching up to lay soft kisses against his neck under his ear, his shoulder. He shivered, his hand wrapping about hers on his shaft and squeezing a little.

  "Stroke me, slow or fast, it will not matter, just touch me, Holly." His words were strained, a deep, guttural sound that made her blood pump fast in her veins.

  Holly did as he asked, stroking him, watching with amazement as it grew in size, thickened and lengthened, a dark-blue vein rising up its length, the head of his penis a deep, beautiful purple. He squirmed beneath her touch. Holly lay half on him, holding him in her hand as she fought to wrap her fingers around his length, stroke, and tease him. His breathing turned into pants, little puffs of air against her face.

  She watched him, enthralled and delighted she could make him react so.

  So this was giving pleasure…

  Their gazes clashed, held, and she could not look away.

  "Kiss me," he breathed, wrapping his hand about her nape and pulling her against him.

  Holly would give him anything he wished, wanted to please and delight him in any way she could. A small part of her mind screamed that this was wrong, against the rules, not an action that a princess should partake in. If her family found out, she doubted they would ever look at her the same way again. As for her uncle, he would use it to tarnish her reputation, to out her to her people that she was not the type of leader to wear the crown.

  No queen acted in such a base, derogatory manner.

  Holly discarded all the thoughts as Drew thrust his tongue against hers, tangling, and teasing her mouth as much as she teased his manhood.

  He moaned through the kiss, his rigid phallus hardened to the point it felt like steel. How was it even possible that a man and woman came together? That such a thing even fit within a woman's body?

  The thought of Drew taking her, thrusting his penis into her aching core, made a gush of liquid desire to pool between her legs.

  She wanted him to take her. Surely if men could gain such pleasure from even the smallest act, a man could equally give a woman the same thing.

  Drew gasped. "Harder, faster." His mouth took hers, punishing and wicked as she did as he asked. Warm liquid spilled over her hand, and she broke the kiss, determined to watch as he found his release.

  He slumped back against the daybed, his breathing ragged, a small smile playing about his lips. "How unexpected and amazing you are, Holly." He reached up, running a finger across her cheek to slip over her bottom lip. "Let me do the same for you."

  She bit her lip, uncertain if she should be so bold. If she allowed him to touch her so intimately, give her pleasure as she so obviously had to him, however was she to walk away? To leave Drew and step back into her royal role, marry a man who did not elicit such need and passion within her would be soul-crushing. It would be best that she did not. At least in this respect, she had to think of herself. Protect her heart.

  There was no future with Drew, she reminded herself. No matter how much she had started to wish that was not the case.

  "We best not. I should return to my bed."

  He held her steadfast, refusing to let her go. "Do not leave. Sleep with me here."

  Holly kissed him, pulling away and returning to her bed. She slipped under the covers, and despair swamped her. Much like her future marriage, the bed was cold and vacant. For a time, she watched through hooded lids as Drew cleaned himself before going back to his bed. Holly stared at the roof of her fourposter bed, the checkered linen pattern above her head.

  She had a choice to make, one that would change her forever. Not her path or her destiny, but her mind and body. For a woman who had always looked at problems rationally and without emotion, to have the dormant part of her body come alive, question the steps toward her future, question what she wanted, not for the country or her people, but herself, was difficult.

  To have a heart that beat for another person in the world was as scary as it would be to stand before her uncle and fight him, and she wasn't sure she was strong enough to survive both.

  If only she had not met Drew, she would not have this problem now. Her life would have one issue to tackle, and all would be well. Her gaze flicked to him, his golden locks all that she could see from this position, and her heart thumped hard in her chest.

  Do not fall in love with him, Holly.

  She cringed at her own thoughts, rolling over and thumping her pillow. No, she would not. She was a strong and independent woman, and she would not be ruled by anyone or anything, especially her emotions. That way led to weakness and demise, and if she were one thing in this world, it was not weak.

  Chapter 14

  The following afternoon Drew was almost in a panic and ready to call Niccolo when he'd been unable to find Holly. He had searched all the notable places within the home looking for her. The multiple galleries, billiards room, conservatory, the grand library, small library, chapel, lobby, and several servants’ staircases along with the main one the family used were vacant of the woman who occupied his mind with alarming persistence of late.

  He strode out on the terrace at the back of the house, looking out over the land. Where was she? A flash of color caught his eye, and he turned toward the large stone-and-glass greenhouse his mother had built the first year of her marriage and started in that direction.

  The servants here wore black and gray, other than the liveried footmen. It was unlikely the color he spotted in the greenhouse could be anyone else but Holly.

  He stepped into the glass-walled and glass-roofed building and slipped off his coat, sweat beading on his skin at the tropical temperature the plants within preferred.

  He idled down a path, not wanting to look as desperate as he wa
s to see her again. To ensure she was not offended by what had happened the night before. He needed to soothe his concerns that she would pull away from him, run from whatever was happening between them, and he'd never see her again.

  Drew had a proper purchase on what was happening between them, and he could not sooner stop their course than he could stop the ocean from crashing onto the shore sands.

  If he had to name what it was, he would say he was irrevocably, undeniably falling for the woman. A princess who was destined to be queen. A woman so far above his reach he would be a fool indeed to let himself feel anything other than respect and admiration.

  Well then, he was a fool, for he could not feel those things and not feel everything else that came along with it. He adored her. Loved her, unlike anyone he'd ever loved before in his life.

  Holly intoxicated his mind and soul, and he could not think of her leaving him, watching him sail back to England with her hundreds of miles away on foreign shores.

  But how to make her see they were perfect for each other? No, he was not as wealthy as she, or of royal blood, but that did not mean that she could not love him despite those things. There was no set rule. Surely even in her homeland she could marry for love, marry whom she chooses, not what was best for the country.

  He slowed his steps when he located her on a stone seat, her eyes were closed, and a small smile played about her lips. Was she enjoying the fragrant air that smelled of flowers, or was she thinking of him? He hoped it was the latter, but something told him she was simply enjoying the greenhouse.

  He stepped on a small twig, and her eyes snapped open, meeting his gaze. She smiled, but the gesture did not reach her eyes, and he schooled the emotions that rioted inside him. "May I join you?" he asked.

  She nodded, patting the bench beside her. "Of course. You're more than welcome."