Page 47 of Her Vow to Be His Desert Queen

Her throat ached and she wanted to tell him right then and there that he wouldn’t have lost it, because she’d loved him then and she loved him still.

But this was already painful enough without bringing love into it.

What she wanted was to give him comfort, help him in any way she could, and she knew the best way to do that. He’d been waiting long enough.

‘And you won’t lose it now either,’ she said quietly, dropping her hands to the buttons on his trousers, and she held his gaze as she undid those one by one, watching the flames start to ignite his sharp black eyes.

‘You want me to worship you, husband?’ She pulled open his fly. ‘Then let me worship you.’

She went to her knees in front of him, dealt with his shoes first, then eased his trousers down, along with his underwear. He stepped out of the fabric and kicked it aside, standing before her completely naked, a sculpture of the perfect man cast in bronze.

Sidonie’s mouth dried. He had shown her what to do for him the previous night, but this was their wedding night and she wanted to worship him as he should be worshipped, show him how much he meant to her, that nothing of what he’d told her changed the way she felt about him.

She put her hands on his powerful thighs, but then he reached down, taking her chin in a firm grip and tilting her head back so she could look at him.

His gaze was dark and very serious. ‘You still want this? Even after what I told you?’

She could see the doubt in his eyes, but while he might doubt himself, she didn’t. She knew who he was deep down. She’d spent ten years knowing him. And she knew his worth.

‘Nothing’s changed, Khal,’ she said, putting the strength of her conviction into each word. ‘For ten years you made me feel as if I wasn’t just a lonely, unwanted orphan. You made me feel as if I was more, as if I was special.’ The flame in his eyes glittered and his grip on her chin tightened. He looked as if he was going to say something more, but she pulled away gently. ‘So now you need to be quiet and let me make you feel special too.’ Then she pressed her lips to his stomach and began to work her way down.

The breath hissed out of him and when she reached to take the long, thick length of his sex in her hand, he muttered a low curse. And when she put her mouth on him and tasted him, worshipped him, he slid his fingers into her hair, the veil sliding off it and onto the floor, and held her tight.

He was a man full of doubt, but she wanted him to know that it didn’t matter to her. That he was her husband and when she’d agreed to be his wife, when she’d married him, it was because he was that man. That friend. Not some kind of semi-divine king.

So she put the strength of her conviction into the way she stroked and tasted and explored him, until finally he groaned and pulled her to her feet. ‘I need to be inside you,’ he growled. ‘Now.’ Then he tore the gown from her body, along with her underwear, and picked her up and put her on the bed. And he followed her down, spreading her thighs with his strong hands and without hesitation thrusting deep inside her.

She gasped as pleasure bloomed like a flower, and she closed her legs around his waist, reaching for him to bring him close. His mouth came down on hers and then they were moving together, fast and desperate, clinging to each other as the storm broke around them and washed them away.

In the aftermath, lying beneath his hot, hard body, her arms around him, trembling like a leaf and feeling the aftershocks shake him too, Sidonie knew deep in her heart that she’d made the right decision in marrying him.

The thought of leaving him was unfathomable. It had broken her the first time he’d walked away from her and she wasn’t going to let it happen again.

She loved him with a fierce, true love. And those doubts she’d had before?

She didn’t feel them now. So what if she was his prize, his trophy? So what if he never talked about love or gave it to her?

Her love was enough for both of them, she knew it down to her bones.

Finally, Khalil moved, pressing his mouth to her throat and beginning to kiss his way down her body. It was clear he didn’t want to talk any more and that was okay with her. She didn’t want to talk either. Her realisation could wait, and besides, there had been enough revelations for one day. They could afford some time to relax and simply enjoy each other.

So she lay back and let her new husband do what he wanted with her.

As it turned out, it was exactly what she wanted too.

Khalil came to the wide French doors that opened out onto a shady terrace, stopped, then leaned on the doorframe.

Sidonie was lying on a low outdoor sofa piled high with pillows, dressed only in a loose robe of green silk. She had a book beside her, but it was clear she wasn’t reading it because she looked to be fast asleep.

No wonder. He’d been keeping her up very late at night and waking her early in the morning. A hunger had set in inside him and he couldn’t get enough of her. It was bordering on obsession and normally he wouldn’t have permitted it, but, since she was his wife and this was their honeymoon, he allowed it.

Eventually it would wear off, he assumed, then they could settle into their marriage.

It had been three days since their wedding and he knew that soon he was going to have to get back to the palace and resume the task of ruling his country, but he wanted a few more days alone with his wife.

He shifted against the doorframe, watching a breeze lift the edge of Sidonie’s robe, exposing a pale expanse of thigh, and his body responded with predictable speed. But he didn’t move, content to stand there for a few minutes longer, watching her.

He couldn’t stop thinking about what she’d said to him on their wedding night, about how he was a good king and that doubt would only make him better. He still wasn’t sure about that—his mother’s teachings would take a while to unlearn—but what he was sure about was that she was wise, his Sidonie. So very perceptive.

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