Page 33 of Pregnant at the Palace Altar

“Taking my time,” she replied. She kissed along his collarbone as she unbuttoned his shirt, one by one, in a slow, careful rhythm. Unbutton. Kiss. Unbutton. Kiss. When his chest was revealed to her, she pressed herself to him, reveling in the warmth of him, in the hardness of his chest and the coarseness of his hair.

She traced her fingers over his skin, delving into ridges, smoothing over hard lines and strong muscles.

His hand curled around her neck, his thumb pressing her chin up so she had to look at him. There were storms in his dark eyes, and she wished she could be the lighthouse that led him safely to shore.

“Diamandis—” Words even she did not want to say threatened. She should be smarter than this, but...

“Do not speak,” he said, the words coming out rough and pained, though she knew he thought he was being forceful and commanding. She knew he was trying to take some control of the situation because he felt like he did not have any.

Because he was afraid of what he felt happening between them—and maybe it wasn’t the same as what she felt, but it wassomething. Even if he refused to acknowledge those feelings, that fear.

So she did not speak again. She nodded, and she gave herself over to him and what he wanted. While she allowed herself to feel itall.

His free hand slid over her shoulder, then cupped one breast, his thumb brushing over the already hardened nipple. She closed her eyes to lose herself in the sensation. She didn’t want control. She didn’t want to think. She only wanted to feel the pleasure move over her. She wanted to sigh and moan and groan without thought.

She wanted to give him all her responses unchecked. He bowed his head and sucked the other breast into his mouth, using his tongue to tease her until she was panting, begging, forgetting any thought she’d had of being slow and romantic.

There was too much need built up inside her. She tipped her head back, pleasure arrowing down from where he touched—licked. She pulsed with need and decided to give in to it. In to him. She decided to be the soft place for his ragged edges to land.

She gently raked her fingers through his hair while he made her shake with need. His mouth stayed on her breasts, but his hands slid down, finding the hot, needy core of her. It took nothing at all to have her exploding apart, his name on her lips.

He straightened, but she held on to him, forcing herself to open her eyes. She could tell he was trying to convince himself to step back, to put distance between them. So she led him to the bed before he could find his center of control. She pushed him onto the mattress, then straddled him, guiding the thick length of him inside her. Slow, slick, perfect. His eyes were like dark flames, his grip on her hips tight, as if she were the center of all he had.

She wanted to be.

So she moved slowly, teasing him as his eyes watched the place where they joined. He watched the long, slow slide. The slick, delicious friction.

Another peak washed over her, and she shuddered and lost all sense of rhythm, because there was too much. He was all-encompassing and she wanted to give in to all that he was.

His grip tightened, and he arched up into her, taking over. He was taking over, and she relished it. His gaze lifted to hers.

“You are mine,” he growled. She knew he was lost in the moment. She knew he did notwanther to be his.

But she was.

“Say it,” he demanded, a king used to giving orders and having them obeyed.

She decided this was one order she always would. “I am yours, my king.”

He took over, the pace wild as she shattered, over and over again. The crash of it all was bigger, stronger. It wracked through her, top to bottom, and when he roared out his release, she was limp, sated and happier than she’d ever been.

No matter how short-lived she knew it would be.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

DIAMANDISSTOODONthe balcony watching the waves crash against the empty shore. The sun was just barely peeking above the watery horizon.

He had not slept.

She had done something to him. Scrambled up his insides so he had nothing safe and strong to hold on to. He could not fathom how. He only knew that it was all her fault.

I am yours, my king.

He hardened, here in the dim morning light, and knew if he went inside, she would take him. She had changed the game, and he felt powerless. And he had no idea how to get his power back.

Except...

There was always the terrible truth of what he’d done. The thing that no one knew.

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