He settled in between her legs and pushed down, impaling her. Sally’s eyes glazed over. She felt the sharp intrusion, but the burn became part of the pleasure, part of the throbbing heat that shook her body. His lean hands gripped her wrists, and his weight crushed her into the mattress as his hips moved roughly, his body penetrating hers in a fever of anguished need. She stared into his eyes as she convulsed, seeing his face harden, tighten, his eyes like glittering black diamonds. He was groaning, his body shivering as the rhythm became insistent, urgent, fiercely demanding.
He bent to kiss her, bruising her lips. His breath mingled with hers in the anguished rush for fulfillment. His body was throbbing in time with hers, his powerful legs trembling as he drove into her. He wanted her too much. It hadn’t been easy, having her so close for months but unable to touch her. And now, she was his forever. Tonight, he’d fought hard for control, and he won.
He lifted his head and looked into her eyes at point-blank range as the rhythm built to utter madness and the sound of the springs was as loud as their rough, frantic breathing. Suddenly, he arched into her and stilled, his eyes wide and black as his lean body convulsed.
“Sally,” he ground out hoarsely. “I love you so much,” he whispered unsteadily, holding her eyes while the world went blazing into oblivion.
The words made the fever burn even higher. She watched him above her as satisfaction shook him, his face clenched hard, his eyes closing in the maelstrom of passion that rocked his own body. It was beyond imagining. She felt him burst inside her, felt the heat of their passion explode. He cried out, and she watched until he blurred in her wide, shocked eyes. She relaxed suddenly, feeling him impale her even farther as he drained the climax of its final weak throbs.
He collapsed into her arms, damp with sweat, shivering in the aftermath as she was. She held him weakly, tears rolling down her cheeks as she moved involuntarily against his still-aroused body to hold on to the echoes of fulfillment that stabbed into her with exquisite little thrills of pleasure.
Oh yes, this is exactly what Madam Baski meant. She sighed, her chest rising and falling.
He lay over her, feeling her body move. He was awed. No sexual experience of his entire life compared with it. He’d known so much horror and terror. This was an ultimate taste of Heaven. He never expected it to be half this good.
He pulled her tired body into his arms. “Thank you so much, Sally.”
“No, I should be the one thanking you, Chad,” she whispered tearfully.
“We will just thank each other,” he groaned, watching her sleepy eyes.
“My husband?” she whispered.
“Yes, my wife?”
“When you sleepwalk tonight or any other night, you can go around and come back here to my body. I will welcome you,” she breathed shyly, burying her face to his chest.
Chad felt his heart tighten in his chest. He could never deserve this girl, but he was never letting her go.
“I want that too,” he groaned hoarsely.
Vetta was seething as she walked out of the bedroom. Suddenly, she wished she had never gone there. She wished she had never heard the breathless mumbles, and never glued her ear to the door to decipher the things they said. She wished she had never been curious.
“Good night, Mistress.” A maid greeted her with a bow as she passed.
Vetta only glared daggers at the maid and marched past her. What was so good about the night!?
There was nothing—absolutely nothing!—good about this night!
Danika was right inside that bedroom.
The king drew sexual pleasures from her body and sated himself in her. During courting season. Not only that, but he was also saying such ridiculous words to Danika that she never expected him to say.
Words she kept hoping the king would say to her!
Vetta whirled around and glared at the hallway that led to the king’s chambers. She was raging. A new urgency filled her. Over her dead body would he be able to keep that witch close to him. She would break whatever was between them; she would shatter it beyond repair.
And she knew where to start.
She whirled around and marched out of the hallway. She would deal with this finally.
And she knew the right place to start. She headed for Princess Kamara’s bedroom.
King Lucien and Danika lay there, doing nothing and thinking of absolutely nothing. Just taking a break from the world.
A lot of time passed as they touched each other and enjoyed being in each other’s arms. They talked and talked about their past lives—the parts that weren’t filled with so much pain.
“I am exhausted, and my head is pounding. I feel dizzy too,” the king finally said.
Danika had her hand running lazily on his broad back and chest. She was tired too, and oh, so sleepy. She wished the night would never end because she didn’t know what tomorrow would bring. She wanted this moment with the king to last forever. But as midnight drew closer, it became a struggle to keep her eyes open.
“I am sleepy too,” she admitted. Then she asked hesitantly, “Do you want to get on the bed?”
He shook his head, kissing the top of her breast. He spent years lying down in a cold cell. This was nothing. “No. I don’t want to move an inch from here.”
“Me either,” she whispered.
He stretched his hand, reaching for his discarded robe. He picked up the big fur cloth and wrapped it around them. “There are no guards at the door, or I would have called them. You need to shout for them. Can you do that?”
He’d hidden their nakedness, so she nodded. He gave a nod of approval.
“Guards!” she shouted, burying her red flushed face to his chest.
A minute passed before they heard a key going into the lock from behind the door. It opened, and a guard entered. Shock blanketed his face when he saw the king lying on the ground with his slave. He was quick to mask his shock and bowed his head. “My king, you sent for me.”
“Bring me the big bedsheet from the bed, Zariel.”
“At your command, Your Majesty.” In quick strides, he reached the bed and withdrew the huge bedsheet that decorated the bed.
He didn’t need to wait for the command, instead; he covered the king and the former princess’s body with the blanket.
“You can go now,” the king said.
Zariel bowed again and walked out, closing the door behind him.
The king pulled his loincloth from under the bedsheet and dropped it aside. He pulled her closer, raised her leg, and threw it over his hip, opening her up to him. He began surging into her.
She cried out, her eyes going wide. She was sore.
“I won’t hurt you more. I will take it easy.” He breathed into her neck. “I want to sleep inside you.”
Her heart fluttered. The things he said to her had this effect on her. She also wanted to be that close to him. So close, the closest she could get.
“I want that too. I want to fall asleep with y-you inside me,” she whispered shyly, thankful that he wasn’t looking at her. Instead, he was nibbling on her neck.
His hips pulled back slowly. With a gentleness she never knew he possessed, he pushed himself into her. Inch by delicious inch. Sore tight muscles gave slowly as they stretched to accommodate him. Her breath hitched; she bit her lips. She was sore, but the feel of him was heavenly.
Finally, he was so deep inside her, she almost panicked that he’d hit her cervix again. But he stopped pushing and took a deep breath against her.
She breathed out and relaxed in his arms.
Wrapped in each other’s arms, spread out on the floor of his chambers, the king’s head to her bosom and a part of him buried so deep inside her, they fell asleep.
They fell into a peaceful sleep because their hearts were at peace.
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