“Good.” He pulls away, licking his lips. I have never seen anything more sensual. “Because in my every fantasy you felt nothing less than exceptional.”
“You…fantasized about me?” The thought of him awake and yearning for me, his large hands caressing every inch of what I now know is his firm body has my brain sputtering.
“Oh yes.” He rocks his hips against me and crashes his lips down on mine once more. He kisses me in time to the music as it rises outside. The band has struck up once more and our moans make a harmony to the crescendo in the square below. Davien holds my head in place, fingers tangled with my hair, tongue plundering my mouth. He has me right where he wants me, pulling me further and further away from anything that resembles reason or sense. When he breaks away, it’s only to get enough space to speak, lips moving over mine as he growls, “I imagined making you mine as a man should make his wife. I ached to take you to my bed and have you until you screamed my name and your throat was raw. Until my body was the only thing you knew or wanted.”
I initiate the kiss this time. His words have wound me up so tight that I’m going to break if I don’t have his mouth on mine again. I grab him, pulling myself toward him, abolishing the space between us—forsaking the cold night air for a primal heat that cannot be denied.
We kiss for an obscene amount of time. When he finally breaks away, I pant softly through swollen lips, gazing up at what is easily the most handsome man in existence. The crown still shines on his brow. King, ruler and protector, my king. Wordlessly, Davien shifts off of me. Our eyes remain locked, even if our bodies are no longer.
Crouching, he scoops me up, as though he’s going to carry us to the skies. But, instead, he takes me to the bed. My soul is soaring as he lays me down. The mattress is firmer than mine, but it still sags under his weight. Davien’s fingers curl around the back of my head once more.
“We only do as we desire.” He looks me dead in the eyes as he speaks. “Nothing more, nothing less. No expectations.”
“And no feelings,” I repeat our earlier promise.
He nods and kisses me again. Our hands and fingers explore, till long after the music stops in the square below. There are places on his body that I am still not brave or bold enough to explore yet, no matter how badly I might want to. He seems to take my lead, only going as far as I do. It results in a tug-of-war between passion and sensibility. Lust and reason and the hopeless space between where frustration makes its home.
Eventually, the kisses stop and we lay next to each other wordlessly, staring up at the ceiling framed by the top of the poster bed. I swallow thickly and brave a glance over to him, wondering if he will be upset we didn’t do more. There’s a slight smile to his lips, his eyelids heavy.
“I should go,” I whisper.
“Must you?” He shifts onto his side, propping up his head with his knuckles.
“We did as we desired.” The night’s events have my cheeks pulling into a sly smile. Even if I want so much more…this was good. It was enough. “No reason for me to stay.”
“Unless you don’t want to sleep alone?”
I consider the suggestion. I’ve never thought about how sleeping with another might feel. Would it be too hot under the duvet with the two of us? Would I kick him in the night? Or would his body curl around mine—a perfect fit? He would make me feel protected, safe…wanted… I shake my head and push away, sitting.
“Sleeping alone is fine. It’s served me well thus far.”
“Has it?” He arches a single eyebrow and I stand so he doesn’t see the roll of my eyes.
“Besides, sleeping together? That’s something actual married couples would do.”
“We were an actual married couple and didn’t sleep together.” He laces his fingers and puts them between his head and the pillow, watching me as I adjust my clothes. They’re still on, for the most part. Just a bit tugged askew from his eager hands.
“We were hardly an actual married couple.” I shrug. “You married me for a book. And I resented you for it as much as I could.”
“How far did that resentment get you?”
I scrunch my nose at him. “I think I liked you better when I was kissing you. You were silent then.”
He’s a blur of movement, kneeling on the bed before me, taking my hands. “I could resume kissing you if it would encourage you to stay.”
“I’m tired.” I pull my hands away with a slight laugh.
“Then come back to me tomorrow.”
“I’ll think about it.” I doubt I will. I’ve succumbed to the urge. I’ve filled this need. There’s no reason to ever do this again.
“My door is unlocked for you whenever you desire, or should you change your mind about tonight.”
“I won’t change my mind about tonight, and we’ll see about tomorrow. I’m not your lover, after all.” I still as my eyes snag on the crown of flowers. It must’ve fallen off the first time when he laid me back. He might be a king, but that will be the only crown he could ever give me. Pointless. Condemned to rot. Discarded by dawn.
I ignore it, going only for the door. It’d be dangerous to accept too many gifts from him. He’d get the wrong idea. The flower crown stays on the floor. His remains on his head, somehow still there even after all our indulgences.
“You could be my lover, if you wanted. It’s not uncommon for kings.”
