THE NIGHT THAT WILL LIVE ONW
hen Chad saw the pain in Sally’s eyes, he knew he couldn’t let her go for the night like that. He didn’t know what he had done to hurt her, but he was determined to find out and make amends.
“Sally. Wait,” he called as he chased after her. He reached her down the hall, took hold of her hand, and halted her. “Please, wait.”
She turned with tear-filled eyes. “What is it, Chad? Oh, please leave me alone.”
She was already ashamed that she offered herself to him and he had rejected her. Now she wondered where she’d found the courage to make such an offer. She had never been a friend of sex because it hurt. She had her few experiences while she did her best to feed the slaves of Salem—to make sure they ate. Coupled with the things the kings did to her, she had become more afraid of sex, and frankly, she wasn’t sure that she could carry through with any sexual intimacy—not even with Chad.
So, where had Sally gotten the courage to offer herself to him like that?
“Please, hear me out, Sally. I don’t know what I did to hurt you. It’s not my intention to hurt you,” he groaned.
She swiped her hand across her cheeks to wipe the tears. “You don’t want me,” she accused. “You don’t want me. Maybe because I’m dirty to you!”
“Whatever gave you such an idea!? How can you think of something so absurd!?” he asked in confusion.
“In your bed. We were k-kissing, and then I repulsed you and you pulled away from me!” she accused with sorrow.
He began to understand where she was coming from and shook his head adamantly. “No, Sally. You will never repulse me! Ever! I didn’t pull away because I didn’t want you. I pulled away because I wanted you too much. But I didn’t want to disrespect you by taking you to my bed without going through the legal processes.”
“The legal processes?” She sniffled, not understanding what he meant.
“Yes. I…” he paused and swallowed. He was suddenly nervous and dreadful. What if it wasn’t what she wanted? What if she rejected him?
He wasn’t exactly a hot shot. He wasn’t really that big of a catch, and he was no longer a normal man because of the things he went through in slavery. What if she didn’t want to spend her life with him?
She saw the looks, and it piqued her curiosity. She searched her eyes, waiting.
“I… I want to marry you, Sally. I want us to get married. I want you to be my wife… if you’ll have me,” he finally rushed out.
Sally was dumbfounded. The look in her eyes showed her speechlessness.
“I do not understand the things you do to me…” He trailed off, sounding confused and angry at the same time. Then he slid down a bit, angled his head, and took her rosy nipple into his mouth. At the same moment, his hand spread her thighs wide apart, and he shoved into her in one swift movement, all the way to the hilt.
Danika screamed at the unexpected invasion, and tears burned the back of her eyes. Suddenly, she felt full. Too full. And it burned. It burned so badly that she began pushing on his shoulders, pained whimpers tearing from her throat. Wet eyes pleaded with his.
He pulled back, pulling out of her completely when he saw how much he’d hurt her. It took so much from him to pull away completely because of the incredible way her tight body clamping hard on him made him feel.
She breathed a sigh of relief and gratitude when he pulled out, but she felt bereft from the separation of their bodies.
His mouth on her breast began moving, and she felt each tug of his lips in her lower belly. He didn’t try to penetrate her again. Instead, he focused his ardor on her plump, rosy tipped breasts. Slowly, the burning sensations disappeared, replaced by a throbbing of longing. Wetness coated her womanhood; her moans interrupted the silence of the night. Her moans and the suction of his lips.
His eyes were closed, his cheeks moving as he alternated between both globes. Her hand held his head to her body, her head thrashing on the pillow.
“Oh, please! Please!” Her body felt too hot. She was mindless for him now; she pushed her lower body towards his in silent pleas.
He finally let go of her red puckered nipple and buried his face in her neck. His hot breath fanned her neck, and his breathing hitched as she felt his phallus nudging her again.
She couldn’t help stiffening.
“Relax. Relax for me, Danika.” His voice was hoarse.
“I’m trying! I’m trying,” she whispered to him when the request and command penetrated her haze.
He buried his lips at her throat as he worked his hardness inside her. Short, fierce thrusts that opened her and stretched her. She gasped at the invasion, her hand clutching his broad back. Her inner muscles protested, fisting his hardness so much he groaned. He kept his thrusts short but hard and fierce until he could slide the last inches inside, seating himself fully inside her.
“Oh…” she breathed, feeling his thick hardness wedged deep inside her until there was no boundary between pain and pleasure.
“I want to lose myself in you, Danika. Can you take me?” he breathed into her ear.
Danika wasn’t sure if she could, but she nodded anyway, her love for him driving her deeply under. Even if it was momentarily, she wanted him to lose himself to her.
It didn’t matter how painful it might be.
Something in his words—in his expression—told her that this night wouldn’t be happening again anytime soon.
“Yes,” she whispered in affirmation.
A shudder worked through his body. Then he leaned up and took her lips into a fierce kiss as he began moving. Slow at first. Then he picked up the pace.
Within moments, he lost all control. He rocked his hips into her quickly, pulling out to the tip before slamming back home. Her body jerked each time he hit her center, which tightened her up and squeezed his phallus. She was only slightly aware of his tongue in her mouth because his hardness felt too glorious. He thrust into her harder, and she threw her head back and broke their kiss. She groaned loudly, and he leaned backed a bit and grabbed both her hips in his hands.
“Hold on to me,” he growled.
She made a little noise in her throat that almost sounded like a squeak, but she obeyed, gripping his forearms with her hands, and wrapping her ankles around his calves. The headboard slammed the wall as he moved rhythmically, and his manhood claimed her femininity. Each push was fast and deep—almost violent—as he grunted and bottomed out in her, burying himself balls-deep with every thrust. She went from crying out to wailing as he pounded her and pounded her until there was sweat running down his back and into his eyes from his hairline.
She feared that he’d break her in half. This time around, he might truly break her in half.
Danika wondered how it was possible that a man who rarely talked and was always so emotionless could be such a wild lion in bed?
He hit her dead-center, and she sobbed incoherent words, her head thrashing on the bed. Her hands gripped him tighter with each pound of his hips. King Lucien ran his hands up her sides and focused on her breasts. He loved the way they felt in his hands—perfectly round globes of soft skin and pebbled nipples. He pulled at them and wanted to suck on them more, but he liked the pace inside her way too much to temper it.
Pleasure was zinging through his body—more than he’d had in as long as he could remember.
And he only wanted to pound her harder. The urge rode him hard.
Suddenly, he needed to take her from behind. It was a need that was driving him mad. So, he pulled out, and she whimpered under him as he got up on his knees and wrenched her hands from his arms.
“Get on your hands and knees,” he snarled. “Spread those legs for me.”