Page 19 of Royal Sin

I moaned. The fire burned me both internally and I swore my skin was scorched. His mouth was hot against mine, tasting of scotch and something darker—something uniquely him. My fingers tangled in his damp hair, pulling him closer as his arm wrapped around my waist, pressing me against the solid warmth of his chest.

“Anna,” he breathed against my lips, my name a question and a warning.

I answered by deepening the kiss, my tongue sliding against his. I didn't want to think about Serena's betrayed face or my parents' schemes or the blood I'd seen on his clothes. I wanted only this—the heat building between us, the way his hands seemed to know exactly where to touch me.

He broke away, dark eyes searching mine. “This is more than a nightcap.”

“Does it matter?” I whispered, my fingers tracing the bruise on his ribs. “I’m here now.”

Leonard caught my hand, pressing it flat against his stomach. “You said slow.”

“Fuck slow.” I slid my palm down his cut torso, unable to help the shivers at the feel of him. I cupped his hard cock.

Leonard’s eyes darkened to midnight as he caught my wrist, stilling my exploring hand. For a heartbeat, I thought he would push me away.

“Are you sure?” His voice was rough, controlled.

I nodded, not trusting my own voice. In this moment, all I wanted was to lose myself in him, to forget everything else.

With a fluid movement, he lifted me, my legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he carried me to the bed. My dress bunched around my hips, his hands sliding beneath the fabric to grip my thighs.

“Tell me to stop,” he murmured against my neck, “and I will.”

“Don’t stop,” I whispered, arching into him as he laid me down on the cool sheets.

His fingers worked at the zipper of my dress, sliding it down with agonizing slowness. Every touch was deliberate, every movement calculated to draw out the pleasure building between us. As he peeled the fabric away, his eyes followed, taking in each new inch of exposed skin with an intensity that made me shiver.

“You’re beautiful,” he said, his voice a low rumble as he traced the curve of my hip with calloused fingers.

I reached for him, needing to feel his weight on me, but he caught my hands, pinning them gently above my head.

“Not yet, little author,” he whispered. “Let me read you first.”

His mouth followed the path his fingers had blazed, tasting the hollow of my throat, the curve of my collarbone, the swell of my breast. I gasped as he took a nipple between his teeth, teasing through the thin fabric of my bra until I was writhing beneath him.

“Leonard,” I moaned, his name a plea on my lips as he released my hands to trail his own down my sides.

“Tell me what you need,” he commanded softly, his fingers hooking into the lace of my underwear.

“You,” I breathed. “Just you.”

With a fluid motion, he slid the delicate fabric down my legs, leaving me exposed to his gaze. The vulnerability should have frightened me, but there was something in the way he looked at me—reverent, hungry—that made me feel powerful instead.

Leonard stood, shedding the boxers from his waist. My breath caught at the sight of him fully naked, all hard muscle and intent. He was magnificent, and the knowledge that he wanted me sent a fresh wave of heat through my body.

He reached into a drawer beside the bed, extracting a condom. As he rolled it on, his eyes never left mine. The intimacy of the moment was almost overwhelming. This wasn’t just physical desire—there was something deeper happening between us, something I hadn’t planned for.

When he lowered himself over me again, I welcomed his weight, my legs parting to cradle his hips. His forehead pressed against mine, our breaths mingling as he positioned himself.

“I’ve waited for this longer than I’ve waited for anything I wanted,” he growled, his control visibly straining.

In answer, I lifted my hips, guiding him to where I needed him most. The first push of him inside me drew a gasp from my lips. He moved with exquisite restraint, giving me time to adjust to the feel of him.

“Fuck, Anna,” he groaned, his voice rough with desire.

I clung to his shoulders as he began to move, setting a rhythm that had me arching beneath him. His hands seemed to be everywhere at once—caressing my breast, sliding down to grip my hip, tangling in my hair. Every touch sent electricity coursing through me, building a pressure that threatened to consume me completely.

“Look at me,” he commanded softly, and I obeyed, meeting his gaze as he moved within me.

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