by CA Quigg
As pissed off as I was by his constant rejection of my virginity, I wouldn't allow him to see how much his not wanting me killed me inside. With a smile plastered on my face, I pulled up my panties, leggings, and ski pants.
"Hungry?" I asked, forcing myself to appear cheerful. "I'm not much of a cook, but give me a few eggs and a mishmash of ingredients, and I can make a mean omelet." I busied myself by opening up cupboard doors searching for ingredients. "And wine. I need wine." Boy, did I ever need wine.
After gathering the ingredients and discovering a cellar filled with wine—because every mansion needed a wine cellar where one bottle cost more than I earned in a year—I poured myself an extra—large glass of Chardonnay, which I sipped in-between whisking eggs and chopping peppers. Kit set on a stool by the island and watched me.
"So tell me more about you," I said, feigning breezy happiness. "You know my life story, but I don't that much about you." I paused and thought about what I knew about him. The answer—nothing. And that surprised me. People usually spilled their life stories to me, and until now, I hadn't realized how little I knew about Kit. I'd been so selfishly caught up in my own drama I didn't once stopped to ask him about his life.
He shrugged. "Nothing to tell."
I diced a small onion and squinted to hold back the tears blurring the corners of my eyes. "Oh, so you just appeared out of nowhere. No family. No mom, no dad, brothers or sisters."
He remained silent. Kit not wanting to share anything about his life or share any anecdotes about his family stung even more than him not wanting me. What was he hiding? What was he ashamed of? Perhaps he'd had a shitty life filled with abuse and wasn't comfortable sharing it. Maybe talking about it brought back too many bad memories for him.
"I'm not that interesting. I promise you. I have two sisters. My dad is alive but ill, and my mother passed away years ago."
"I'm sorry. I know how that feels."
"If anyone understands what it feels like to lose a parent, it's you."
I sniffed and wiped the onion tears away from my eyes. "What happened to her? You don't have to talk about it if it still hurts."
"She died." Pain etched lines in his face, and I got the hint to change the subject. I didn't want to be the source of bad memories for him.
I set down my knife, picked up my glass and took a sip of wine. "When did you start working for the prince? How'd that happen?"
He smiled, but it looked forced as if having his wisdom teeth removed by a backstreet dentist with dirty instruments and no anesthesia would be more preferable than talking about himself. "Sometimes it feels like I've been with him all of my life."
I grinned. "I know how that feels. Sometimes it seems like I've been washing dishes in hotel kitchens and serving drinks all my life." Reaching up, I grabbed a copper skillet from the pot rack above me and set it on the stove. "You think you're going to work for the prince forever. He's going to become the king of Rhias soon, right?"
Kit didn't meet my eyes, and I wondered if he hated working for the Prince and if I'd touched a sore spot by asking questions. By the way he was acting, working for the royal family must have sucked more than working in a casino on a Saturday night during a prize fight.
"Before my father's illness, he worked for the kingdom, therefore, being a dutiful son, I work for the kingdom also. I can't see myself doing anything else. Nor would I want to."
"Then why do you seem so unhappy? If it's not a job you don't like or want, surely you can leave."
Kit chuckled. "If only it were that easy."
"You signed a contract?"
"Something like that. Tell me more about what you plan to do when you go home?" His changing the subject reminded me that our time together wasn't anything life changing. I was good for a blowjob and not much else. I gave myself an inward eye roll. I was being a drama queen. Again.
His life was his business, and I shouldn't pry. Why should he share anything about his life with me? Who knew what kind of relationships he'd had before me. Maybe he feared sharing too much in case I became an irrational stalker who would show up in his bed one day begging him to love me.
I poured the goopy egg mixture into the pan and waited for it to set before adding more ingredients. "Nothing more to tell. Like I said, I'm going to stay in my part of the world and help children and families in precarious situations. My job will be to recruit and manage volunteers for the nonprofit I told you about in the car on the way up. I want to make life better for kids who can't. Show them they can be whoever they want no matter where they came from."
He stood, walked around the island and wrapped his arms around my waist. "You're amazing. People like you inspire me to be a better person."
A rush of heat invaded my cheeks. "You wouldn't say that if you knew me. The real me is a neurotic mess filled with anxiety and doubt. But when I'm here with you, it's different. I'm different. I know this isn't my real world and never will be, but for a few days I'm willing to pretend I'm the kind of person who holidays in mansions on top of mountains and is someone who has someone like you as my boyfriend."
"What if it could be your real world? What if you could stay here? Would you?"
I sprinkled a mixture of peppers and onions on top of the eggs and loaded them with cheese before flipping up the sides." Don't." I laid the back of my head against his chest. "Don't do this to me, Kit. It's not fair. We both know I don't belong in your world. I can't hobnob with posh people and make small talk. I don't wear the right clothes or have the right accent. I'm from a trailer park. Everyone in your world grew up with privilege and silver spoons. This world isn't mine. It's yours."
Chapter Twelve
Kristian
"Didn't you just tell me that you wanted kids to believe they could be anything they wanted to be no matter where they came from?"
"But I don't know if I want this kind of life. It's too far removed from reality. I guess, that's why I want to sleep with you so badly. Being here with you is like a storybook romance. I might not get a happily ever after, but I'll take happy for now."
Denying her what she wanted killed me, but I couldn't take something so precious from her. I didn't deserve it. I was already too much of a bastard for lying about who I was. Taking her virginity when she thought I was someone else was immoral. I prided myself on my morals, and as much as I had strayed from those morals over the past few days, I still had some intact.
She was right, my world would never be her world and asking her would she stay if she could was wrong. Could I give everything up so I could be with her? No. I wouldn't be able to do that, and I hated myself for my cowardly behavior.
"Enjoy," she said and set at steaming plate of eggs in front of me.
I wasn't hungry but to save her any more hurt feelings, I'd eat. "What will you do after you meet the Prince?"
"Go home where I won't be hidden in corners of castles and where people won't look at me like I'm a piece of trash"
"No one looks at you like you're a piece of trash."
She raised a disbelieving eyebrow. "Beverly? She looks at me like I'm something she wants to wipe from the bottom of her shoe."
Emma played with her food. It seemed she'd lost her appetite too. The phone in my pocket vibrated. I pulled it out and glanced at the screen. Speak of the devil—Beverly. Since I'd told her not to call unless it was a life or death situation, I assumed it must have been important, and my thoughts went straight to my father.
I pushed back my stool. "Excuse me; I have to take this." I stepped outside of the kitchen into the silently falling snow and accepted the call. "Is my father okay?"
"He's fine. Just checking in to make sure everything is okay with you."
Irritation needled me. "Everything is perfectly okay."
"The girl. I trust you explained what happened between you and her mother. That you didn't even remember her. Has she left?"
"I've asked you to let me handle this, and I am."
Silence crackled through
the line. "Kristian, don't do anything that could jeopardize the crown or your choice of a wife. You could make life difficult for the kingdom with embargoes and canceled trade deals. Not to mention how embarrassing it would be for your father."
A throbbing headache bloomed behind my eyes. "I'm well aware of what's at stake. I'm not doing anything to jeopardize that. I'm simply spending time with a girl who lost her mother when she was a child. I can relate to her. For some unknown reason, our paths have crossed. Whether that's because I married her mother or not, I don't know."
Beverly made an unladylike noise that sounded close to a grunt. "Poppycock."
"I'll talk to you when I return to Rhias tomorrow."
I stabbed the end call button. Beverly didn't have to spell the risks out to me because I was well aware of them. I knew the risks I was taking by being here with Emma and what would happen if it got out that I'd married someone in Vegas when I was twenty-one.
Tomorrow, when we went back to Rhias, I would reveal who I was. She'd hate me, but not as much as I would hate myself. I wasn't supposed to develop feelings for her, and yet here I was falling for her. I didn't use the L—word lightly, and I'd never told a woman, besides my mother, that I'd loved them, but the feelings I was developing for Emma blindsided me, and I wasn't equipped to deal with them.
The door behind me scraped open, and I turned around to see Emma. Her green eyes framed with coal-black lashes were wide and innocent. Her smile warm and welcoming.
How could I deny myself this woman? How could I constantly reject her? Hurt her? Because I didn't deserve her, that's why.
Much to the disappointment of my cock, I wouldn't make love to her, but I would make her feel wanted and desired, and to do that, I would make her feel loved.
She tilted her head. "Why are you grinning? What made you so happy?"
"You. Every second with you makes me happy."
She scraped her teeth along her lower lip, and my cock stirred. Unable to stand not having her in my arms, I drew her to me and held her softness close.
"I thought you weren't going to touch me for the rest of our time here?"
"I'm powerless to resist you. Everything about you, from the way your bottom lip is slightly bigger than your top lip, to your cheekbones, your chin, your chest, your tits, the curve of your stomach, your ass, your legs and your pussy. You're beautiful and sexy."
"Does that mean you're going to make love to me?" The hope in her voice pained me.
"No, my darling, I'm not going to make love to you. That's a gift you must save for someone you truly love."
"But I love you, Kit. You're the man I've been waiting for."
She couldn't love me. I wouldn't allow it. "What you're feeling is lust, not love."
Fire filled her eyes, and she pushed away from me.
"Don't dare tell me what I do and don't feel. I may not have been in love before, but I know love. I love you, and there's nothing you can do about it. I don't expect you to say you love me back." Her voice shook, and her words rushed out. "That's not why I said it, but let's be clear, in case you don't get it, I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you." In her bare feet, she ran from where we stood toward the snow-covered garden, opened her arms wide and spun in a circle. "To everyone who can hear me, I love Kit Whitehall with every cell of my being, and I'll love him until the day I die."
At that moment, I believed she believed she loved me, the sincerity in her words was evident, but I would never respond in kind. Saying I loved her back would break her heart all the more because tomorrow, as soon as she found out who I was, she would leave and I didn't want her spending the rest of her life wondering about what could have been with a man she didn't know.
I went to her, scooped her into my arms and carried her inside. "I care about you deeply, Emma, but I can never be the man you want or need."
"I just need you to be the man you are right now," she whispered. "That's all I'm asking."
I lowered her to the floor by the fire, not once taking my eyes off her. "I need to touch you from head to toe. I need to see your dusky nipples and pussy darken for me and only me."
She flicked the tip of her tongue seductively over her upper lip, wetting it, and I couldn't wait to devour her mouth.
"You know all the right words to say."
I ripped off her clothes followed by mine, and it was all I could do not to spread her legs wide and fuck her until we both passed out. But I restrained my impulses, and instead of taking her like a mad man possessed with the need to fuck, claim, and come, I ran my hands over her smooth shoulders down her arms to her fingers and up again.
"Open your legs for me."
She complied with my request, and I ran my fingers up her legs and along the sensitive skin of her thighs. She hissed out a long breath of satisfaction leaving my thick and throbbing cock ready to erupt.
"I never want this to end," she said on a sigh.
"Now isn't the time to think about that. Focus on the here and now. Close your eyes and enjoy."
The soft curls between the juncture of her legs were soaked, dripping with excitement. I coaxed her slick folds open and slid my thumbs along her plump labia. She gave an impatient groan. I knew what she craved. What we both craved but what we could never have.
I dipped the pad of my middle finger to her tight opening and tapped. How I wanted to slide into her wet heat. But I wouldn't. Instead, I pinched the hood of her clit, coaxing the epicenter of her pleasure to stiffen. In an instant, her breath became shallow, choppy, rough and raspy.
"Is this what you want?"
"You know what I want," she whispered.
I kissed her lower stomach exploring her, delighting in her scent, her taste. The entire time my finger continued circling her clit. She reached out and grabbed my hair, her nails digging into my scalp, urging me to suck her into my mouth.
"Can I come?"
"Hold back."
Her body trembled, and her thighs quivered. Her ample tits rose and fell, and her nipples darkened to a deep red. Her mouth opened in awe and her eyes closed in ecstasy. She whimpered and moaned and encouraged me by rocking her hips.
I stretched her folds and pressed my lips to the tip of her clit. Every muscle in her body tensed and stiffened. So as not to forget how she looked in that moment, I knelt back and, through drugged eyes, watched how her beautiful face and body reacted to being touched.
I took her back into my mouth. I would build her orgasm up. One that would send her to the stratosphere. One that would make her think she would die from the intensity.
"I can't stop," she moaned. "I can't stop. I'm going to come."
Her back bowed, and she screamed, and I drew her fluttering clit into my mouth and sucked hard. Her pussy erupted like a volcano. Excitement gushed from her soaking my lower face. She moaned, bucking her hips forward, pushing her clit deeper between my lips.
My stiffer than steel cock was ready and throbbed for release, the tip wet with pre-cum. Being with her was an adrenaline rush I wasn't used to. I wanted to grab her hips and hold her in place while I plunged inside of her, sliding deeper with each thrust. I wanted to feel her bare down on me. I wanted to feel her pussy convulse and contract while she climaxed. I wanted to explode inside of her and fill her tight channel with hot jets of come.
Images of gripping her hips and slamming her down on my cock, of stretching her open, of her riding me fast and hard filled my brain.
Jesus fucking Christ.
One touch of her hand against my dick and I'd be gone.
What would I do without her? What would I do when she left my life? I didn't want to think about it, but at least on the days when I missed her and on the days when I desired her, I would still have the memories, and I would always have the video of her masturbating in the car. It was something I would cherish until my dying days.
Gradually, her movements slowed, and she released her hold on my hair, and I reluctantly, moved backward giving her a chance to gather her
self. The past day and a half with me would have left her extra sensitive after climaxing and touching her now would be close to excruciating.
My thoughts strayed to the possibility of her staying with me. If Emma staying at the castle were feasible, I would be able to teach her how to work through the sensitivity and enjoy multiple orgasms. I would train her to come again and again on my command. But that would never happen because she deserved more than being my mistress. Someone I could only steal a few hours with here and there. She deserved my full attention, but my lot in life meant she would never have it.
I moved up her body, and when I reached her lips, I kissed her, probing her mouth with my tongue, allowing her to taste the residue of her tangy orgasm.
Our kiss was different than the ones that had come before. This one was deeper almost soul searching. My tongue, my teeth, and my mouth consumed her.
Sucking, biting, tasting.
There was no holding back. Every ounce of passion and emotion she inspired in me slipped from my body and into hers.
"You're everything I want but can't have," I said against her lips, stroking strands of her long dark hair from her face.
"You more than have me, Kit. I belong to you." She flung her arms around me. "Let me satisfy you. Since we got here, you haven't allowed me to satisfy you. I need to taste you. I want you to come in my mouth. I want to drink you down."
If sucking my dick was what she wanted, who was I to deny her?"
Chapter Thirteen
Emma
I took his hand and led him over to a wing-backed chair by the fire. "Let me be in control of this."
"Okay," he said, his heated gaze burning a hole through me. "Just this once."
"Take off your clothes for me. Let me see all of you."
If tonight was the last night I would have with him here, I wanted to touch and kiss him all over. Kit undressed and threw his clothes to the floor.