Page 22 of Stolen Princess's Secret

She traced the outline of the estate with her forefinger. ‘The land suits your needs perfectly. It may not seem like home to you at first, but as the years pass, surely that will change. Your Barony could become one of the greatest reserves in northern Byzenmaach and beyond. Cas is already pressuring neighbouring kings to dedicate land in that mountain range to preservation. You can lead conversation and influence policy and all you have to do is believe.’ She turned to face him, her eyes beseeching. ‘Protection for this land. Financial independence and opportunity for you and yours. Why can’t you see this as an opportunity? Is it because I’m the one who fought for it?’

The things he wanted to do to her.

‘My hands are rough. I can be rough. My sexual appetite is strong. Coarse. Greedy.’ So he’d been told. ‘I’m not a nobleman.’

Her eyes glowed.

‘Claudia, it’s a warning.’ He couldn’t be more plain. ‘I would ruin you if I let desire rule me. Rule us.’

‘Please try. You have my full permission. Because I certainly want to ruin you. I’d even put you back together afterwards. You have my word.’

‘You are so—’

She stopped his words with her lips against his and as far as tactics went it was ridiculously effective.

His coat was too tight and her lips were too warm. The skin of her cheek was softer than feathers against his calloused fingers. She was finer than any woman he’d ever kissed and his mad, hidden desire for her made itself well and truly evident. She was a gossamer butterfly beneath his hands and he still had control—a slender silken thread of it. He hadn’t ruined anything yet.

Only after her eyelashes fluttered closed did he slip his leash enough to savour her, tilting his head for better access and taking his fill. He fitted her body to his so easily, or maybe he gathered her in—was he holding her too tightly?—hard to know his own strength, and he felt honoured, and hounded and completely adrift from reality in this room of maps and traps and other people’s history. He didn’t know who he was any more or where he fitted in the grand schemes of kings, but he knew without doubt that if he could kiss like this every day he would be a wealthy man.

And for every bit of common sense that said no, Tomas, back up a bit and think, desire made him stupid.

He didn’t stop her when she unbuttoned his coat and the shirt beneath it too, because he wanted her hands on his skin so badly, and she seemed intent on delivering. When her nails scraped lightly across his skin and edged across his nipple with a quick and sudden change in pressure, digging in like a claw, he shuddered his approval. When her lips left his to trail across to his jaw, pillow-soft right up until that moment when she nipped the sensitive skin just behind his ear, he groaned. New kink. Formerly unknown hotspot.

‘Do that again.’

And she laughed against his skin and soothed with her tongue, catching his earlobe and, hello. He wouldn’t object to her spending more time there too, but right now her kisses were more important. He could lose himself if he wasn’t careful.

And right now, he definitely wasn’t being careful.

When he lowered the zip at the side of her gown, a hidden item he’d spent some time looking for in the ballroom when fantasising about undressing her, his only thought was yes. He could be gentle, and the smooth slide of haute-couture undoings proved it.

See?

She was beautiful in the lamplight, all golden skin and rosy flushes, and he bent his head to her breast and drew a cry of pleasure that would stay with him for ever.

She was generous in her praise of his every move. So willing to go where he led. That he wanted to savour every moment, and she wanted to rush, made her huff and him laugh. Slowly, he unwound for her and let the fire between them burn hot and needy.

When his fingers dipped beneath her panties, she swiftly got rid of them and stood before him, naked but for her glittering pearl-coloured stilettos, as she placed the palm of her hand over his manhood and claimed his mouth with kisses that grew wilder with every breath.

There was a tabletop right there, and she scored his back with her polished nails as he shoved his trousers out of the way, lifted her up and dragged her against him so she was barely resting on the table edge and the rest of her rested on him. She closed her thighs and legs around him, cradled him, and it only took a moment to lift her up and on, and his forehead connected with hers as she whimpered and they both looked as, inch by inch, she took him in.

He’d never felt anything like it—this haunting, perfect homecoming.

She gasped, or was it a whimper, as he clenched his teeth and clutched the hard edge of the table rather than leave bruises on her, as he fought to stay in control so that he didn’t drive too deep, but her whispered words weren’t exactly helping, broken curses smattered with ‘yes’ and ‘don’t stop’ and ‘more’.

‘Lie back,’ he muttered harshly, hoping to make their joining more comfortable for her. ‘Let me.’

Let him put his calloused thumb to her centre and press it against his thick ridge as he tried so hard to be gentle with her and limit the power of his thrusts. Let him raise her arms above her head and clasp her wrists together as he teased and suckled her areolas to pointed nubbins.

Let me lose my way in the slap of flesh against flesh and hope you like rough edges.

Watch you twist and brace as I steal whimpers straight from your mouth, and I warned you it would be like this.

Heaven was opening up before him, warm and slick, and, no matter how hard he tried to be otherwise, Tomas was not a gentleman.

Claudia had relatively modest expectations for the concept of heaven on earth, right up until the moment Tomas entered her and unleashed his emotions. His earthy, uninhibited desire flat-out worked for her—so much for his muttered words of warning—and he was beautiful in the lamplight. A golden-skinned warrior, finally hers to hold. A hard man, barely able to contain his fascination for her softest places because he had none of his own. He was like an aphrodisiac made especially for her, and she was rushing towards a finish line that was far too close, because once she crossed it the pleasure might stop.

‘No,’ she whispered when he repositioned them both so he could put a thumb to her centre. She clutched at his wrist and felt him freeze. ‘I’m not going to last.’ She guided his hand north and pressed a kiss to his knuckles.

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