Page 51 of Back to Claim His Crown
‘Yes. More. Now.’
It was searingly physical and she relished it. As did he. He wrapped one arm around her hips, his other up her back, his hand spread to support her head. He impaled her onto him, over and over. They were both slick and hot. Both fiery and physical. He balanced her with shattering ease—it was entirely his strength keeping them upright, his strength sealing them together.
He grunted in feral appreciation of his complete domination of her, releasing gusts of hot air that teased her breasts as he thrust into her again and again. She clamped on him the only way she could—where he’d pushed in, gripping hard to lock him, fighting with her hands too—greedily grabbing his slick, strong muscles. He swore then, lifted his head and pulled her to meet his mouth. She moaned as he took her there too. He relentlessly drove deeper and deeper, claiming—caressing—her with everything he had.
She would never let him go.Never. She wrapped herself even more tightly around him—clinging with every ounce of strength she had. Her body could stand the sensations only for so long. Every muscle screamed in sexual tension as he nailed her to him until she tore her lips free, her head falling back as a high-pitched, keening scream of release was ripped from her.
As she collapsed onto his shoulder she heard his shout echoing within her. She barely had any strength left to cling to him. But somehow he could still move. He carried her to the bedroom and carefully put her down on the bed. She needed more strength to pull him down to the bed with her, but she was too spent and he was too swift. He pulled free. Barely conscious, she whimpered at the loss of contact. She’d wanted to stay like that with him—not just entwined, but locked together. She wanted that always. But that wasn’t what Lucian wanted. It wasn’teverwhat he would want. So, for all the bliss she felt, one corner of her heart broke as he pressed a too-gentle kiss to her cheek and whispered, ‘Sleep.’
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
ZARABARELYSAWLucian the next day. There was nothing new in that except a melancholy swept over her, a sensation that was at odds with how she’d thought she’d feel. She’d thought she’d be relieved—that she’d cleared that challenging hurdle of the public appearance at the ball and her future would now be free of such things. But she’d actually enjoyed the evening more than she’d ever imagined she would. She’d enjoyed the conclusion of the night more than anything.
While most of the dignitaries had now left, the city was still in party mode. To have arranged something on this level in such a short time was an incredible feat and demonstrated just how completely—and quickly—Lucian had assumed control of the Crown. And how happy the country was to have him back.
She deliberately didn’t check the papers. The media could be so fickle—positive one moment, shredding the next, so she knew it wouldn’t serve her well. She would keep calm and carry on and quietly make her plans for a private, quiet life. She’d messaged Maia just to double-check she’d meant her offer of help. Maia’s reply had been immediate. Zara knew she had her path now. Except there was that twist of yearning inside.
That night there was a dinner for the few dignitaries who’d remained for the extra day. She didn’t attend. She hid in the private wing. But she saw him on his way to the banquet hall—clad in another fine woven suit. She stopped as he passed her in the corridor. She saw the exhaustion at the back of his eyes and could feel the strain emanating from him.
This was a man who’d survived a lot—who’d deliberately put himself into punishing, dangerous, demanding situations while working for Niko to strengthen his endurance and resilience—both physical and mental. But she knew his new life here was taking its toll. This was emotional. This was his home. Where he’d been born and raised and his parents had died. Where he’d been most vulnerable. Returning to face all this alone was challenging for him. He had so many memories tangled with contrary emotions. It exhausted her just to think about it, but he was the onelivingit. She knew he had much to do, but there had to come a point where he couldn’t go on without decent rest. This constant hyper-alert state—seeking—expecting—danger all the time had to be punishing.
‘Why aren’t you coming to dinner?’ he demanded in a low voice.
‘Why do you think?’ She shook her head at him. But her heart smote and she leaned a little closer. ‘You can’t go on like this. You’re barely sleeping.’
His eyes flared. ‘I have a job to do.’
‘You can’t do it properly without proper rest.’
He shot her a withering glance.
‘Oh, please. As if you’re not human?’ she jeered. ‘I know you’reveryhuman.’
There was a flicker in his eyes but he said nothing more as he walked past her.
It hurt. And it made her angry. He’d said nothing about the previous night. She knew there could be nothing more between them, but that restlessness was brewing again. So powerful, so complete. She was beginning to fear that the ache she felt for him was going to be unending.
So she stayed awake. She heard the bang and ripple of fading fireworks and knew those last guests would retire to bed soon. She knew which was his room. He’d taken the one only a few doors down from hers.
It was very late when she knocked on the door.
He said nothing when he opened it and saw her. But he reached for her wrist and hauled her inside. The suite was smaller than her own. Darker and spartan in its decor. It suited him. But she didn’t linger to admire the furnishings. She walked directly to the bedroom.
‘What are you doing?’ he muttered as he followed her.
‘You get to come to my room and take what you want, when you want. Why can’t I do the same?’
‘I thought I came to your room and gave you whatyouwanted.’
The challenge rippled through her. ‘Okay then, what do you want from me?’
He stared at her and she just knew he was battling his self-control, overworked as it was.
She cocked her head and shot him a smile. ‘My worst?’
With a groan he capitulated. ‘Zara...’
The smile on his face then was so charmingly boyish and devilish it smote her heart. For a second the tortured, burdened man was gone and only humour and heat remained. She wanted to seehimflushed and sated. She pushed him onto the bed. To her surprise, he actually fell backwards. She smothered a giggle as she knelt astride him. But then her smile faded—she wanted to touch him. Togiveto him.
