Page 113 of Modern Romance June 2025 5-8

Her hands went to his belt buckle. ‘Yes. Please.’

Benedikt must have found his wallet because soon he was sheathing himself, rolling the rubber on while Annalena watched. For a second he shut his eyes, needing to assert some self-control. Instead he felt soft fingers slide down his length.

Vice-like, he wrapped his hand around her wrist and pulled it away, shaking his head.

She pouted as if disappointed. Did she have any idea what that did to him? How often he’d fantasised about those plump lips on him?

Still holding her wrist, he burrowed his other hand under her skirt, grateful she’d worn it instead of jeans. Questing fingers met warm flesh then damp lace. One tug and it tore away. Over the thrum in his ears he heard Annalena’s gasp but it was excitement, not outrage he saw in her shining eyes.

Releasing her hand, he pulled her skirt up. ‘Come to me, sweetheart.’

He watched her shuffle closer, rising as she knelt above him.

‘That’s it,’ he crooned, hands sliding around her hips. ‘Now down.’

She paused as they came in contact, heat meeting heat, need against need. Then, with an ease that emptied his lungs of oxygen, she sank until they were completely joined.

Benedikt saw her wonder and knew she’d see the same in his eyes. It was utterly new to her but inexplicably it felt new to him too. He barely had time to register that when his primitive self took over.

His hands were tight on her hips as he thrust, pulling her to him. His mouth crushed hers. But as she rose then fell again, learning the rhythm, she slanted her mouth fiercely against his. Her fingers dug into his shoulders as the urgency he’d tried to rein in took them both.

It was a desperate, wild ride. Acute sensation, driving hunger and a crescendo of pleasure.

Benedikt felt pressure build at the base of his spine then in his groin. He couldn’t last. He captured her face and poured all his jumbled yearning and unresolved emotions into their kiss, stunned to receive the same from her.

His hand slid to claim her breast and she jolted against him. He swallowed her cry, convinced he heard his name on her lips as they toppled over the edge together. His life force spilled into velvety heat as bliss took him.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Annalena shaded her eyes, squinting into sunshine. Her heart was in her mouth yet she felt a mix of awe and pride as she watched Benedikt climb the rockface.

The sheer rockface.

When she’d said as much he’d laughed and assured her there were plenty of hand and footholds on the cliff.

Nevertheless nerves nibbled her stomach. If anything happened to him…

A few short weeks ago she’d have thought it a solution to her problems to hear the new King had died. Now the thought made her shudder. Ten days after their wedding and so much had changed.

She’dchanged and her feelings about Benedikt too.

With a final surge of flexing, impressive strength, he pulled himself over the cliff top. Then he stood, waving at her. He didn’t even seem to be breathing heavily. Whereas her heart hammered and her breathing was shallow.

She waved back, smiling as he grinned. The breeze riffled his hair and he looked carefree and young, not the severe man she’d met in Prinzenberg.

She dropped her hand as he stepped out of sight to explore before walking down the steep but navigable slope beyond the rockface.

Annalena turned and sank onto the blanket where they’d lunched.

Each day they made love, hiked, and talked about everything and nothing. She told him about her fieldwork and her fascination with lichens and mosses. He talked of his time in the US and some of his climbing adventures.

She found herself ever more drawn to Benedikt. Even the wordhusbanddidn’t faze her now.

It wasn’t his looks. It was his essence, that charisma she’d always felt. His character. Far from being callous and unsympathetic, he was a man of compassion and deep humanity. A man who attracted her in ways that had nothing to do with sex.

Though the sex was phenomenal. Just thinking about their sex life made her toes curl.

Even his occasional retreat into thoughtful silence didn’t seem negative now. Before, she’d imagined his every reaction a response to her, imagining him judging and finding her wanting. Now she saw a man who’d faced his own problems. Yes, he brooded occasionally but didn’t she too sometimes? Usually she kept her own counsel, working through problems alone rather than turning to others. Once in a while she’d share concerns with Oma.

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