Page 32 of Impossible Heir for the King

‘Yes.’ Hell, yes. A round-the-clock fascination from the moment he’d first seen her. But he had to normalise it—minimise it. ‘This is chemistry Maia. You’ve not felt this before?’

She shook her head.

Oh hell. He was screwed. ‘It’s lust,’ he added hoarsely. ‘Raw attraction. Nothing more.’

‘I didn’t think it was anything more,’ she growled back at him. ‘I don’t even particularly like you. You’re an autocrat who’s completely spoilt and who thinks he can get away with anything.’

He suddenly laughed, deeply aroused. ‘And you’re a wilful woman determined to get her own way. Neither of us is willing to compromise.’

‘It seems not.’

‘It’s going to be a battle.’ And he was going to relish it.

‘I don’t want to fight. I want you to teach me.’

‘Teach you what?’

‘How to please you the way you just pleased me.’

He was dumbstruck. His mouth was dry and full of cotton wool or something. So was his brain. Maybe it was the sun but he’d never felt as hot in his life. He kissed her. Couldn’t touch enough of her. Couldn’t get to everything he wanted. Not soon enough. Not now.

‘Teach me,’ she breathed again when he released her lips long enough for her to actually speak.

‘Just touch me.’

And she did. But too lightly. Not far enough. Not fast enough.

Her hand skimmed over his stomach. ‘How many hours do you spend in the gym to keep your body so beautiful?’

‘Aren’t you glad I do?’ he challenged softly, hearing the acidic edge to her question. ‘It’s turning you on right now.’

Earlier her judgement had scoured—an abrasion he wanted to reject—sliding beneath his armour. But she wanted him not in spite of it but because of it. She liked challenging him on this level. A sensual game in which she wanted to best him. And he would play with her.

‘Touch any part of me you want, Maia.’ He lay back on the marble, feeling the sun-warmed stone warm his already hot skin. ‘Everypart.’

That silenced her. Her eyes went round and suddenly he felt a qualm. Maybe shewouldbest him. He watched the sensual ripple of her body—the pure physical expression of arousal as she braved up and straddled him.

He could only stare. She had such beauty—complex, earthy, unexpected. Her newly unleashed sexuality undid him. He couldn’t resist cupping her breasts. Wanting to pleasure her again but wary of pushing for too much, too soon. The flush in her cheeks deepened. He saw that spark again. That challenge.

‘Don’t try to control this,’ she whispered. ‘Let me be free.’

He almost swallowed his tongue. He lifted his hands from her in surrender. Allowing her to access any bit of him she wanted. He really hoped she wanted that bit currently acting like a damned flagpole. Dazed, he watched the undulation of her hips as she bent above him and explored him with her hands. Her hair teased him and she traced his tattoos with her fingertips, with her tongue, and he breathed in the uninhibited, natural dance of her desire. This absolute release of self-consciousness, of control was a rare gift. He saw the focused gleam in her eyes and was transfixed, suddenly harder than he’d ever been. He was literally aching for her touch and scared to even move in case she pulled away. His mouth was dry but he was unable to swallow. And the sweetness of her sudden, swift kiss did nothing to sate him. He wanted more. He wanted all of her. He felt the need so desperately in a part so deep he’d not even realised it existed.

Five minutes ago her hands desperately rubbing his thighs had driven him to distraction. Feeling the passion, the fervour in her fevered caresses and her aching need had stunned him. There was such heat there, such longing, so much that she’d hidden from him—from the world—for so long. He wanted to draw her out. He wanted her to be free. But his customary eloquence was gone. His customary control gone.

‘Maia.’ He was hoarse with want.

Heneededher to touch him. He needed that soft hand right where he was so hard it hurt. He tensed as she trailed her fingers ever so slowly to the waistband of his board shorts. He gritted his teeth, shaking as she slipped her fingers beneath. And then—he who had infinite experience—suddenly, completely lost everything at first contact.

A guttural roar of pleasure and frustration escaped him as he was tossed into a paroxysm of white-hot ecstasy. He growled again, pumping up into her firm hold, his pleasure spilling far, far too soon. And what pleasure it was—his whole body, even the damned soles of his feet, tingled and he gasped for recovery. He’d been unable to withstand the slightest touch. She’d defeated him with little more than a sigh and a sweet kiss and a tentative tug. He stared up at her, stunned. He’d come at first stroke, mortifyingly quickly, as ifhewere the virgin, barely coping with a singular caress.

She sat back and doubt entered her eyes. ‘Is that it?’

He groaned again and then could only laugh helplessly even as he panted, pressing the back of his hands hard on his eyes to try to recover his brain. But she’d utterly overwhelmed him.

‘Did I do something wrong?’ She sounded shy. ‘I didn’t expect it to be so quick.’

‘Neither did I.’ He laughed again. But then he dragged in a breath and his energy surged back. He sat up and wrapped his arms around her so she couldn’t slip from his lap. ‘You didn’t do anything wrong. That was just...’

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