Page 11 of His Highness's Hidden Heir

She shouldn’t want this. Of the many things she wanted, above all she wanted to feel safe. This man was not safe. He wouldn’t hurt her. She was as sure about that as she could be, but he wasn’t promising more than a few hours of pleasure. Her instincts for self-preservation, honed to a fine point by a lifetime of dealing with users and sycophants, were utterly failing her where he was concerned. She could feel herself succumbing to him because she was unwilling to fight herself.

One night, she kept repeating to herself. One night of pleasure. Of forgetting. She was entitled, wasn’t she?

It wouldn’t be enough. She already knew that. She wanted to know him more than physically. She wanted to know him intimately—even though she had the sense he would remain an enigma his whole life, never allowing anyone to really know him.

Everything about their coming together was tragically ill-advised, but her desire to be in his orbit, to feel his touch and hold his attention andbehis for even a very short while, was too tempting to resist.

With a small shudder, she let go of doubt and worry about repercussions and surrendered to the inevitable. “Yes.”

He lifted his head and stepped back. “Go to my room, then.”

Her stomach was full of butterflies that soared into her chest. She led him to the end of the hall on shaking legs, hyperaware of his heavy steps behind her.

His room was extravagantly beautiful. The ceiling gleamed with copper tiles that glowed like a sunset above the wide, turned-down bed. Frothy sheers over solid drapes covered the tall windows. A thickly loomed area rug cushioned her step, making the click of the door lock seem overly loud.

She was staring at the bed, mouth dry, when he came up behind her. He swept her hair to the front of her shoulder. The snug collar of her gown eased as he released its two buttons.

“I don’t...do this,” she said, voice unsteady.

He paused in unhooking the clasp above the zip near her tailbone. “Have one-night stands? Or have sex? You’re not a virgin.”

“I don’t have casual sex.” She rarely had sex. Her attempts at relationships always fizzled. Too many men were trophy hunters or manipulators, but that was why Magnus appealed to her so much. He didn’t want anything from her buther.

“Neither do I.” His fingertips trailed absently along her spine, down and up and down again. “But this doesn’t feel casual.”

He was right. It felt profound.

He released the hook and slid the short zipper.

“This gown is on loan. I need to be careful with it,” she said as she caught the front.

He helped her step out of it, then gave it a light shake before draping it across the bench at the end of the bed. He turned to look at her as he popped his cuffs and opened the buttons on his shirt.

“It’s not very sexy.” She had stood before cameras often enough in minimal clothing that she shouldn’t have been so self-conscious in her underwear. Heck, the black halter bra and high-cut, tummy-control panties were more modest than most bikinis she wore.

Nevertheless, as his attention wandered leisurely over her, she shifted on her heels.

“I’m not mad at it.” He opened his fly and dragged his shirt out, baring most of his torso as he padded toward her. “These straps are kind of hot.” He traced from where they met behind her neck down to the corset-like under-band beneath her breasts. His fingers splayed against the cups, plumping her breasts into the deep cut of the cleavage.

She didn’t know where to put her hands and let them settle nervously on his sleeves.

He was really...everything. Powerful. Broad and muscular and emanating a spicy masculine scent that she knew she would remember for the rest of her life.

She didn’t want to look and think and wonder where to put her hands, though. She wanted the blind passion that made herfeel. She stepped forward, gaze on his mouth, and tilted hers up in invitation.

His mouth came down in a passionate crush, sweeping her back into that place where she didn’t think about how she looked or who she was or what the consequence of this might be. She gave herself over to him, not realizing he was moving her with the same fluid confidence he’d used on the dance floor until the cool wall met her shoulder blades.

“What...um...?” She tried to catch her breath, but couldn’t. Not when she was looking into raw lust glowing deep within his eyes.

He began to roll her underwear down her hips. He crouched to set a small kiss on the skin he exposed above her navel, then below it. Her mind blanked as his tender assault continued. Another kiss branded the point of her hip. He sent a soft “Hah” against her bared folds, stirring the fine hairs, making her flesh throb with anticipation.

His lips nuzzled the crease at the top of her thigh as he helped her step out of her panties.

“Do you know what high ceilings are good for?” he asked as he blew gently against her folds again.

She could hardly make sense of his words. She shook her head, thinking,I can’t breathe.

In a formidable move, he swept his arms under her thighs, rising at the same time.

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