Page 72 of Modern Romance June 2025 1-4

In fact, she’d gone through many scenarios after those moments in the orchard, trying to think of the best approach when it came to seducing her husband. But, considering how little experience she’d had with men, she’d decided that being as direct as possible was the key.

Of course he’d been working late, since that was what he’d been doing every night since he’d married her, so she’d had lots of time to prepare. Not that she’d needed it, since her plan had been basically to turn up naked in his bed.

She’d already been there a quite a while before he’d entered the bedroom, sitting on the bed, vacillating between wild excitement and a sick dread that he’d laugh at her, or simply send her away.

Anxiety had gripped her when she’d heard him enter the royal apartments, and then the shower in the bathroom next door had been turned on. Her heart beating fast, she’d come up onto her knees on the mattress, trying to calm her ragged nerves as she’d heard the door open.

Then he’d turned on the light and she’d seen him in the doorway.

Naked.

Her mouth had dried, her nerves forgotten, and she hadn’t been able to look away. Because he was beautiful. So achingly beautiful. Broad shoulders. Muscled chest and stomach. Narrow hips and powerful thighs. All encased in smooth, satiny olive skin. And the most male part of him, hard and thick, making no secret of how much he wanted her.

She’d thrilled to it, even as a sudden attack of nerves had nearly undone her.

She’d thought he might turn around and walk away, leaving her kneeling in his bed all alone. She’d had no idea what she would do if that happened.

But it hadn’t.

Instead, he’d told her that there would be no divorce. That if she wanted this then she had to accept that she would be his wife in every way, including bearing his heirs. She understood why. Knew that he wanted to set an example for his people. It wasn’t about her specifically. It was about what she represented as his wife and queen.

She’d known a moment’s hesitation when he’d laid it all out for her, because she hadn’t been expecting that. Hadn’t been expecting more than a night and hadn’t thought about anything beyond that.

Yet he had.

She’d also known that this was the moment of truth. That if she didn’t give this to him she’d get nothing at all. And looking at him, standing there, she hadn’t been sure she could stand having nothing.

If she agreed, she would be his, and there was reassurance in being someone’s…in being claimed. No one had ever wanted her to be theirs, even when she was a child, long before she’d decided that hiding was better than being noticed. Her value as a daughter, as her father had often said, was only in her ability to make a good marriage, nothing more.

Certainly no one had loved her, and while she knew that it wasn’t love with Tiberius, she would settle for being desired. He’d promised to protect her too, and after all it would hardly be a hardship to share his bed every night.

Of course she’d said yes.

And then everything had happened very fast.

His lips on hers, his hands on her body, and then she’d been pushed onto her back and his marauding mouth had been everywhere. On her throat, her nipples, her thighs and then between.

Pleasure had gripped her like music as he’d turned her body into an instrument that he played with the most incredible precision. She hadn’t known that so many different sounds could be drawn from her.

He hadn’t been rough like he’d warned her earlier that day. Instead he’d been decisive, firm and unhesitating, which had thrilled her…excited her. She’d loved him taking charge, because she wouldn’t have even known where to start.

Now she lay there, gasping, and he was moving again, sliding between her thighs, one hand braced beside her head as the other slipped through her slick folds, spreading her open for him. She stared up into his silver eyes as he shifted once again, pushing against her and then into her, sliding in deeply, slowly, watching her as he did so, gauging her reaction.

‘Does this hurt?’ he asked, his voice almost guttural.

She was panting, the feeling of him inside her almost too much and yet also not enough. ‘No… It’s just…strange.’

His hand slipped beneath her rear, lifting her, letting him slide even deeper, and then he paused. The feel of his hot, bare skin against hers and the weight of him on her was intensely erotic. She wanted to hold him there, never let him go.

Unexpectedly, he put out a hand and pushed a curl behind her ear, the movement tender, making her frantically beating heart catch fire. And then he leaned down and kissed her, tasting her, and at the same time he began to move, making her blaze.

She’d had no idea she could be so hungry for him again, and so soon, but she was. Desperate and feverish. Wanting more.

Looking up into his face, at the harshly carved lines of it drawn taut with desire, she felt the flames inside her burn higher and hotter. It was strange to be so surrounded by a person. To have him over her and inside her, the heat of his body against hers, the scent of his skin everywhere.

It was thrilling. Intoxicating.

She didn’t know what to do with her hands, so she put them on his powerful shoulders, loving the feeling of hard muscle moving under his skin. The hand beneath her rear shifted again, tilting her hips, and somehow the hunger deepened, becoming fierce. Then it slid away as he reached down to grip her behind her knee, drawing her leg up and around his hip, opening her more to him.

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