Page 88 of The Princess and the Rogue

Anya wrapped her legs around his breeches-clad hips, and he made a rumbling sound of approval in his chest. His hand shaped the indent of her waist, the curve of her hip, then smoothed over the sensitive skin of her thigh. He recaptured her mouth an instant before his hand dipped between her legs; he drank in her gasp of pleasure, swirling his tongue at the same time as his fingers slipped between her folds.

Anya lifted her hips, urging him on. She was slick,ready for him, and his finger entered her in a slow, delicious invasion. Hot delight shimmered over her skin. A second finger joined the first, stretching her in the most pleasurable way, but after only a few blissful movements, he withdrew. She opened her mouth to protest until she felt him fumbling between them to undo the buttons of his falls.

He freed himself, tugged her to the very edge of the desk, and positioned himself at the entrance to her body. Panting, his dark hair in glorious disarray, he braced one palm on the leather desktop beside her hip and caught the nape of her neck with the other.

“This? You want this?” His cock slid against her, a teasing threat, and Anya tilted her hips in joyous invitation. Their eyes met and held.

“Yes,” she panted. “Yes.”

He entered her in a slow, steady glide, his eyes never leaving hers. They both groaned in unison. Anya felt as if she were sharing her very soul; the connection between them felt sacred, almost magical.

“More,” she demanded.

He bared his teeth in a smile that was as feral as it was wicked. He withdrew almost to the point of leaving her. “More? I’ll give you more,princess.”

Anya almost laughed. Yes!Thatwas how she wanted him to say it. As a teasing endearment instead of a title. The muscles of her stomach contracted as he pressed forward again, and he let out a heartfelt groan.

“God, you haveno idea.”

“Everything,” she breathed. “Give it to me.”

She curled up toward him, seeking the sensations he’d shown her before, and the change in angle rubbed a spot inside her that sent the promise of pleasure shimmering through her veins. She clutched at his shoulders as he repeated the move, and every wicked, dragging slide senther closer to the peak. Her thoughts splintered. Her inner muscles contracted, gripping him tightly, and with a sharp cry, she plunged over the edge of a glorious, mind-numbing climax.

She’d barely returned to earth when he pulled her off the desk, turned her around, and bent her over the hard wood. The banyan robe had long since fallen to the floor and the cool slide of the leather desktop was a shock against her sensitive breasts and hot cheek. Seb stroked the length of her spine, squeezed her bottom, and slid back inside of her with a groan of pleasure.

The momentum of his body rocked her forward, and Anya bit her lip at this delightful new sensation. She’d thought she couldn’t experience any more pleasure, but feeling Seb within her, hearing his impassioned pants as he strove for completion, made her heart sing with a fierce, glad possessiveness. She wanted to satisfy his every craving, to give him the same explosion of spiraling darkness he’d given her. She wanted to give him everything. Her heart, her soul, her love.

Instinctively, she pushed back against him, urging him deeper still, and smiled as he growled in approval. He bent over her, enveloping her, his chest against her back, and buried his face in the crook of her neck. His left ear—hisdeafear—was right next to her lips, and some perverse impulse compelled her to whisper, “I love you.”

He tensed, and for a moment she thought he’d heard her, but then his climax claimed him. His every muscle stiffened as he pulsed inside her like a heartbeat, on and on. His full weight eventually pressed down on her as he relaxed, utterly spent, and she savored the masculine weight of him despite the slight discomfort.

She bit her lip and quelled the urge to laugh. Never had she felt so thoroughly ravished. If she’d knownthiswas the pleasure awaiting her when he’d propositioned her back at Haye’s, she would have accepted his scandalous offer without a moment’s hesitation. In fact, she’d probably have been the one to offerhimfive hundred pounds.

After a long moment, he straightened and stepped back. She felt a rush of cool air on her bare bottom and an unaccustomed wetness between her legs.

Anya’s levity fled. He’d spent himself inside her. Considering the timing of her monthly courses, there was a slim chance she could fall pregnant. The thought of carrying his child didn’t fill her with dismay. On the contrary, she’d like nothing better than to bear his child, but she was damned if she’d do it outside of wedlock. Unconventional she might be, but she refused to become notorious throughout Europe as the “unmarried, pregnant princess.”

It was time to bring him up to scratch.

Chapter 40.

Seb stepped back from Anya’s naked body, cursing himself in every language he knew. The explosion that had robbed him of his hearing had clearly addled his brain too.

No, that wasn’t true. It wasAnyawho addled his brain. He had no control, no finesse when it came to her. The scent of her made him fevered. The touch of her skin sent him over the edge into full-blown insanity. He was putty in her hands.

Shame and regret poured through him like acid. God, she was aprincess, practically a virgin, and he’d just tupped her over his desk as if she were a common dockside whore. Christ, they hadn’t even made it to his bed. He was still wearing his shirt and breeches. He was an animal, unfit to call himself a gentleman.

His gut clenched. For the first time in his life, he’d been so carried away by passion that he’d forgotten to use protection and spilled himself inside a woman.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

He closed the front of his breeches with shakinghands as she straightened and retrieved the robe from where it had fallen to the floor. She shrugged it on, keeping her eyes downcast, and he regarded her warily, trying to gauge her reaction. Was she angry? Insulted? Ashamed? He gestured awkwardly toward his bedroom door. “There’s water and linens through there. If you want to, ah, freshen up.”

His voice was a husky croak, and he cleared his throat. God, he sounded like some callow youth who’d never spoken to a woman in his life.

She inclined her head. “Thank you.”

She sailed past him, head held high. The overlong robe trailed after her like a royal train, and it occurred to him that he’d never seen her look more regal. Or more out of his reach. The door to his bedroom clicked closed, and he stood there in sudden bemusement. He’d imagined her in his bedchamber a thousand times, but never whenhewas banished to the sitting room.

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