He wasn’t sure who leaned in first, but suddenly their mouths were locked and it was like the first drink after weeks in the desert. He feasted on her, taking every ounce of the longing that he could feel in her kiss and giving back in equal measure. He felt the weight of her arms around his neck, her chest pressed tightly against his, and yet it still wasn’t enough. He pressed her back against the bookcase, ignoring her sharp intake of breath as he raised her arms above her head and began a slow trail down her neck.
Her groans sent the blood rushing straight to his groin, not that he hadn’t already lost control of that particular piece of his anatomy. She moved against him, consciously or unconsciously coming into contact with his arousal and giving a slight gasp. Khal looked down into her widened eyes, tension furling and unfurling in his lower abdomen.
‘Tell me to stop,’ he commanded. ‘Tell me that you don’t want this.’
‘I can’t,’ she whispered, lowering her face into the curve of his neck and pressing a hot kiss to his skin. ‘I think I have wanted this from the first moment I saw you.’
The kiss undid him completely, along with the words. He waited a moment as she kissed along his clavicle, running her hot tongue along his skin. Unable to cope with the torture of standing still, he ran his hands over her shoulders, gently spreading the delicate vee of her robe wide enough to lower the neck of her nightgown and expose the porcelain skin of one breast. He let his hands explore one hardened peak until she leaned her head back in sensual abandon. Then he leaned down to replace fingers with lips and tongue. He thoroughly pleasured one delicate breast before moving on to afford the same attentions to its twin. Each movement of his tongue brought forth groans of pleasure, which Cressida tried to stifle with her fist. They were in his study, after all.
She moved against him again, more impatiently this time, as though she knew exactly what she wanted. Her pelvis fitted in line with his so perfectly. It would be so easy to just wrap her legs around his waist and slide himself inside her. He would take her rough and hard, sliding in and out of her moist heat until neither of them could remember their own name...
‘Don’t stop, Khal.’ Her hushed plea threatened to undo him. ‘Please.’
Spurred on by the raw need in her voice, he continued his explorations, removing her robe and letting his fingers gather her nightgown up until it bunched just under her hips. Pinning the fabric with one hand, he found the lace-covered centre of her and applied a gentle pressure.
* * *
Cressida’s attempts to remain quiet were short-lived; soon her loud gasps and stifled moans filled the room. She had never felt such unbearable pleasure as she did with his hands on her, touching her. It was as though he knew exactly how she liked it, exactly how she touched herself in the dark of night when no one was watching. Khal let out a deeply male groan of pleasure as she moved herself against his hand, wanting more than he gave.
He pulled the lace down over her hips, watching her eyes the whole time. Perhaps he was waiting to see if she had finally come to her senses and decided she didn’t want this, after all. She did not falter. She had made her decision the moment he stood in front of her, all male sexual energy. Perhaps tomorrow she would remember why this was such a bad idea but in this moment she had never wanted anything more in her life.
She became impatient with his slow movements and kicked the material off the rest of the way, enticing a husky laugh from his throat. She smiled, amazed that this felt so right all of a sudden when moments ago they had been talking about practicality. There was nothing practical about what they were doing right now and they both knew it.
His fingers came into contact with her bare flesh and within seconds she could feel her body begin to pulse and tighten as it began to ascend towards climax. He must have sensed it too because, just as she had almost reached the peak, he stopped.
‘What are you—’ Her stunned words were stifled by his kiss as he gathered her up into his arms and carried her a few steps across the room to a long sofa. The cushions were soft underneath her but the fabric of her nightgown bunched uncomfortably around her waist.
As though he read her mind, he helped her to be rid of the pesky layers. All of a sudden she was completely naked, spread out before him while he was still completely clothed. He paused for a moment, eyes darkening with pleasure as he drank her in, then he set about removing his own clothing. By the time he was completely naked, Cressida’s throat had gone dry. He was...magnificent. There was no other way to describe the hard expanse of copper-toned skin on show. He was well built in a suit but nude, he was powerful. Muscles rippled along a trim abdomen, leading to trim hips and... She gulped, wondering how on earth that was going to fit anywhere belonging to her.
‘I have dreamed of doing this,’ he murmured, moving over her so that their bodies were entwined. She could feel the heat of him pressing between her thighs, her own excitement slightly embarrassing now that no clothing was between them.
She was nervous but definitely ready. As he poised himself over her, she was struck by the weight of this moment. He moved against her with such slowness, she felt a lump in her throat. She could feel his hard heat as he slid the first inch inside; there was only slight pain as he moved further, stretching her to accommodate him. His eyes widened for a moment as some of her discomfort must have showed on her face. He made to pull away but Cressida gripped his hips with her thighs, holding him tightly against her. Keeping their bodies joined.
He uttered a curse under his breath, his breathing laboured as he gently pressed his forehead against hers, holding his body still with impressive control.
‘Don’t stop.’ Cressida breathed. She arched herself against him and felt the join of their bodies pulse pleasurably. To her relief, he moved once more in response, then twice, placing one hand between them to slide his thumb against that part of her that drove her wild. What little pain there had been soon receded completely and only pleasure remained as her body quickly got the hang of what to do. She felt pleasure like nothing she had ever experienced building deep within her with every thrust. Her body seemed to move against him of its own volition and she noticed Khal hiss between his teeth.
‘Oh, yes, habibti, just like that,’ he practically growled as he spread her legs wider, moving even deeper, increasing his pace.
She felt him begin to lose control, his neck straining as his own climax approached. The sight of this powerful man at her mercy seemed to spur her on, bringing pleasure like she had never experienced crashing down upon her and sending her body into waves of absolute bliss. Cressida felt a moment of confusion as he pulled away from her at the last moment then bit her lower lip as she realised that he had only withdrawn just in time before his own climax hit him.
Khal fell back against the cushions of the sofa, head arched back in the pose of a man completely exhausted and satisfied. His chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, the barest sheen of sweat glistening on his dark skin. Cressida could not look away, wanting to remember every detail of this perfect moment. She had never imagined that her first time would be quite so intimate and filled with passion.
Not only had she just made love for the first time, she had made love with her husband. The thought brought gooseflesh to her skin and she cursed herself for having such a sentimental reaction.
Truthfully, Cressida had absolutely no idea what one was supposed to say in this situation. Should she make small talk? Should she tell him that she had enjoyed it, they should do it again some time? It was insane, she had stood in front of a crowd and pledged her devotion to this man and he to her. The entire world now believed them to have had a secret love story worthy of movies and magazine spreads. And yet, in this moment, as the silence stretched onwards, she realised that they were just two people who had finally given in to a passion that neither of them quite understood.
* * *
Khal felt as though he had just run a marathon,
but in the best way possible. He lay back on the sofa, eyes closed, but sleep was the furthest thing from his mind. He was avoiding the woman who lay alongside him, delaying the moment when he would have to confront the reality of what had just transpired between them.
First, he had not used any protection. Second, his wife had clearly been an innocent and he had crudely deflowered her on a sofa.
Suppressing the urge to growl at his own loss of control, he stood up and began to gather up their clothes.
There could not be a child. He could not bear the thought of history repeating itself... He paused for a long moment at his desk, his body seemingly frozen. He felt such an acute loss of control it was as though his thoughts swam away from him every time he tried to grasp them.
‘Could you hand me my nightgown?’ a quiet voice came from the sofa. He turned, not knowing how long he had stood immobile and silent while she waited.
Guilt engulfed him as he saw the uncertainty on Cressida’s features as she accepted the nightgown and hurriedly shielded her naked body from him.
‘You were a virgin,’ he said softly, sitting alongside her and turning her cheek so that she met his eyes. ‘I would have taken more time, had I known. Made it better for you.’
‘We didn’t exactly plan for this, either of us.’ She spoke with quiet sincerity. ‘But it was quite pleasurable...for me, anyway.’
Khal looked down at the bare skin of her thighs, which had been wrapped around his waist mere minutes before. God, but he wanted her all over again. He exhaled a long breath, astounded at the complete deterioration of his adult mind to that of a lust-crazed youth.
Suddenly, Cressida stood up and pulled her arms through her nightgown, shielding her body from view. Khal fought the urge to pull her back down.
‘I understand that you might be worried that this...that tonight would complicate matters between us.’ She spoke with a strange coldness in her voice.
‘Do you believe that it won’t?’ Khal asked. ‘Tonight was irresponsible on my part, in more ways than one.’
She busied herself by pulling her hair back from her face, twisting it around itself in a neat trick that kept it secured atop her head with no clasps or ties. Next, she retrieved her robe, slipping her arms into it quickly.
Khal stood, quite aware that he had not yet bothered to put on his own clothing. He watched as she lowered her gaze for a split second before hurriedly looking away to focus on the wall behind his head as she spoke.
‘We were both irresponsible. We are both adults. We got carried away tonight but we can simply agree that this need not happen again.’
‘When I say irresponsible, I mean that I didn’t use protection, Cressida.’ Khal took a step towards her.
‘That won’t be an issue.’ She straightened her shoulders, lifting her hand almost as a barrier between them. ‘Presuming that you are...healthy?’
‘Of course I am healthy,’ he growled.
‘Good. Well, I take medication to regulate my cycle,’ she said matter-of-factly, tying the sash of her robe with an almost vicious precision. ‘So it seems we have nothing else to worry about.’
She made to step away from him. Khal grabbed her by the wrist. ‘Just like that? You’ve forgotten about what just happened in here?’
Her sharp intake of breath was loud in the silence of the night. ‘We both agreed that this marriage was to remain free of complications.’
‘And you immediately feel confident that you can go back to that plan?’
Cressida frowned. ‘Did you not make it clear to me in the beginning that you were not seeking a true wife?’
Khal stepped back as though burned. ‘Of course.’
‘Then I think it’s probably best for us to go back to our rooms...separately. Perhaps take some distance from each other over the next few days.’
‘Yes, of course. Retreat and regroup,’ Khal murmured, confused at his own irritation at her calm approach. He did not wish to have to dampen down the hopes of an overly sentimental virgin. He should be thanking his lucky stars at his good fortune. She nodded once, bidding him a very civilised goodnight before disappearing through the door of his office with seemingly effortless composure.
Khal waited until her footsteps had disappeared completely before leaving the office himself.
His feet seemed to know where to take him even before his brain registered where he was going. The open courtyards past the eastern wing of the palace led out onto a long tropical garden. Khal followed a marble path inset with aqua-blue stones that sparkled in the light of the full moon. The path sloped downhill to where a small stone fountain took precedence. It had been many years since he had come here. For a long time this had been his preferred place to sit and brood. Perhaps brooding was the wrong word to use—sorrow was the real emotion that one felt at this fountain.
A small marble square adorned the front of the fountain’s stone facade. A single aquamarine stone glittered in the centre of the square. Khal placed his hand over the stone, feeling the warmth of it seep through his skin. He had chosen this spot because the sunshine was uninterrupted here during the day. At the time, that had seemed important. There was no name inscribed on the stone, no words to mark the sorrowful reason this fountain stood on this particular spot.
His son had never taken his first breath, and in Zayyari culture that meant that he had not existed. There was no grave. No tomb at which to kneel and pray.
But he had prayed.
He had prayed for the infant son he would never know, and for the wife who had changed for ever. Something had died inside him the day he had been told that Priya had lost their child. He had been on the other side of the world, and protocol had meant he was not able to return for days after. By the time he had finally reached her bedside, the woman looking back at him was not his Priya any longer. Her own death had come less than a year later.
He had not discussed with Cressida the reasons why he had no desire for an heir of his own. For those brief moments, imagining that she might carry his child had made his insides turn to stone. He’d told himself time after time that a leader did not show his fears. This was a half-truth—just because he did not show it, did not mean that he didn’t harbour fears that ran deep into his soul.
CHAPTER EIGHT
CRESSIDA GASPED AS the helicopter swooped low to give them a panoramic view of the spectacular coastline of Valar. The city’s skyline was impressive, dominated by silver and glass high-rise buildings and ornate hotels. Further down in the distance she could see the swimming pools of the beach-side resorts, tourists no more than tiny black dots on the white sand. They set down on top of a building so high Cressida felt every muscle in her body clench. Reminding herself not to look down, she was jolted when Khal’s warmth slid closer to her on the leather seats as he spoke to the pilot, his voice barely audible over the roaring din of the chopper blades slowing to a stop.
She had barely seen him in the week that had passed since the night in his study. He did not eat breakfast with her, nor did he make any impromptu invitations to dine together in the evenings. She had missed the ease of their conversations but told herself it was for the best. He would never want a relationship with her beyond the sexual chemistry between them. A casual sexual relationship was simply not an option for a woman who was already married to the man in question. It would be utter madness to expect things to remain free of emotions, no strings attached.
She was escorted down from the helicopter by two of the security team but it was Khal who took her hand in his and guided her across the blustery rooftop to the lift. Once inside, she released a breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding and heard a rumble of quiet male laughter erupt alongside her.
‘Did you fear I would allow you to fall off the rooftop?’ he asked, his hand still holding hers captive within his own. He spoke idly, his gaze fixed on the numbers on the display pan
el as the lift came to a stop and the doors slid open to reveal a square windowless hallway.
‘I’m glad you find my fear of heights entertaining,’ she quipped, a reluctant smile crossing her own lips as she looked up into a pair of dark brown eyes filled with mirth.
As usual, part of the security detail had already performed a sweep in preparation for their arrival. They were escorted into a spacious foyer and promptly left alone.
All thoughts momentarily left her brain as she was greeted with the most spectacular view she had ever seen. The large open-plan space was sumptuously decorated in bright modern monochrome and sky-blue, but the main attraction was the double height wall of curved plate glass that offered an unobstructed view of the entire city skyline, beautifully framed by a glimpse of the Arabian Sea on one side. The window was so wide and so clear, it was as though the marble tiles simply ended on a precipice, leaving the viewer at the risk of toppling over the edge. It made her stomach tighten, but still she could appreciate the view.
‘This city is...breathtaking...’ Cressida murmured, still making sure that she remained firmly in the centre of the room.
‘This city will soon be the future of Zayyar, thanks to you,’ he said, warmth in his eyes. ‘News of our marriage has already opened doors that once were firmly closed. Tonight’s celebration will solidify many new connections for us.’
Cressida had already been told by her advisors of the progress that had been made since their marriage had become public knowledge. Tonight’s formal celebration would bring politicians and foreign dignitaries from across the world here to show their support. However, there would not be a single member of her own family at the event. A fact that did not surprise her in the slightest. Her older sister, Eleanor, was on a charity mission in North Africa but had promised to come and visit soon, while her middle sister, Olivia, was busily setting up the headquarters of her literacy foundation in New York.
Claiming His Replacement Queen (Monteverre Marriages Book 2) Page 10