Page 53 of Back to Claim His Crown
‘Would that be you—lord and master?’ she snapped. ‘The great King himself. You want me on my knees?’
Yes, it was provocative. Deliberate. Dangerous. But she was alight with adrenalin.
‘That’s a very good idea,’ he snapped.
Electricity charged the atmosphere. She wasn’t afraid of the seething emotion. It was welcome. With a furious lift of her chin, she lowered first to one knee then the other and leaned back slightly to gaze all the way up to his fiery eyes.
‘Drop the towel,’ she said.
He froze.
‘Drop the towel, Lucian.’
He was hard, proud, fierce. But the very last thing he was right now was in charge.
‘Zara—’
She tugged the towel and took him in hand. Quite happy to hold him firmly. Quite happy to revel in the desperation of his gasp. She fluttered her fingers and then held him firm, while teasing the very tip of him with her tongue. Entirely on instinct. Entirely with feverish delight. And as her pleasure rose she moved restlessly, more rapidly, until she felt the vibrations in his muscles and heard the savage edge to his growl of frustration and need. She saw the clenched fists at his sides as he held back. She didn’t want him to hold back. Ever. So she pressed closer still. Gripped harder. Rubbed harder. Sucked harder.
His hands thrust in her hair and his hips bucked wildly before he pulled away from her and snarled,‘Stop.’
She stilled, panting, aching with emptiness.
‘All fours.’
She looked into his expression and heat swamped her. Control lost to him again. But she gave it so willingly. The truth wasneitherof them were in control now. He had such need for her—for this at least. He dropped to his knees too, behind her. His hands slid, his fingers discovered her slick heat. And then his mouth.
She buckled, bending her head to the ground on a sob of ecstasy at how hot this was between them. Nothing but desire. No shame. No power game. Not any more. This was raw—as it always was because this emotion couldn’t be contained and it was everything. It was rough but passionately so—not violent. Never that. The intensity with which he caressed her was stunning, as if he were desperate to drive her to that edge right with him. Reaching forward, he covered her widespread hand with his—laced then locked his fingers through hers. His chest was pressed flat along her back. He gripped her tightly, stopping her from being shunted away by his own force. And he didn’t hold back. He pounded—deeper, harder, hotter. Owning her. Claiming her until she felt branded as his from the inside out. It was as if he couldn’t get deep enough, close enough. As if it were a battle for his very survival—to be with her. It was the most animal of couplings. It would have been brutal if it weren’t so beautiful. If there weren’t suchfeelings. Desperation. Desire. Domination—yes. All lust—so close to love.
‘Zara!’ he growled.‘Zara!’
But he pulled out and spun her over and suddenly was back, right back with her. In her. Only now he was gazing into her eyes and in his she saw that wild emotion. Such devastation. And his hold on her tightened even more as she shook apart and his big body finally quaked too. Until he collapsed over her. Utterly spent.
Such swift pleasure. Such abandonment. Such chaos. She closed her eyes. He was pinning her, but she was already his prisoner—shackled by the unbearable delight he gave.
The silence in the room was heavy, punctuated only by their jerky breathing. But as their rough gasps eased the atmosphere only seemed to sharpen.
‘I am too heavy. I apologise.’ He didn’t even look her in the eyes. ‘I had better get to that meeting.’
He took the towel and left the room. Left her there, all but catatonic on the floor. Shattered.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
LUCIANWASFURIOUSwith himself. He’d just exhibited a total loss of control. Again. He’d given in to an absolute emotional response. Again. He felt like a bastard. He’d been rude to her. He’d left her on thefloor. What kind of human was he? He never should have touched her, never taken everything he wanted. Solace. Pleasure. So selfishly.
It was worsening. Trying to be near her—but not having her—simply caused carnage because, in the end, he lost control. Repeatedly.
He had no recollection of her leaving his bed this morning. Or of anyone knocking on his door. How could he not have woken? He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept as deeply or as soundly. But apparently every one of his senses had been dead to the world this morning. It was shockingly unacceptable—not only because of the risk to his personal safety but because he’d forgotten everything outside of that bedroom. He’d indulged in pure, physical comfort and neglected his work completely.Thatwas not good enough.
He struggled to concentrate now. Also not good enough. His country deserved better. Wasn’t that why he’d returned?
He’d been determined to step up to the plate. To be the King his people deserved. And he’d known, hadn’t he, that this needed his complete and undivided attention. Because when his personal desires were released, his performance dipped. Emotional distraction was utterly destructive.
But, given his failure, the only thing he could think was to switch his plan entirely. Ending this was apparently impossible, but if he couldtamehis own distraction then maybe he’d be better. The fact was they were drawn to each other. Their chemistryrefusedto be denied. So they shouldn’t try. Maybe it was that denial that made it worse. So perhaps it needed its own bottle—to be contained and allowed out only at theappropriatetime. He needed to strategically regain control of this situation. And he knew just how to do it.
‘Zara.’ He walked into the library with a tray in his hands. An offering. Caramel apple tart and tea.
She realised this was his wordless way of trying to make amends. She didn’t want to accept wordless any more. That he’d brought it distressed her even more. Because healmostcared enough. He was courteous. Kind. Attentive even. Certainly passionate. But there it ended.
