by Maya Banks
Slowly his head lowered, and he captured her lips in a hot, breathless kiss. She melted against him, molding the curves of her body to his hard frame.
He drew away the merest fraction of a distance, his breath still blowing hot on her face. “Isabella…are you sure?”
In response, she curled her arms around his neck and pulled him back to her. His touch elicited the most delicious sensations all over her body. He ran his hands down the curve of her back and over her buttocks then up her sides and to her breasts.
Cupping them in his hands, he rolled the tips between his thumb and forefinger. A moan tore from her lips, swallowed up just as quickly by his mouth.
He raised his hands to frame her cheeks as he rained tiny kisses over her face. Then he delved his fingers into her hair, smoothing back the tendrils behind her ears. “You are so beautiful,” he whispered.
She smiled, warmed by his words. Pulling away, she began removing his shirt from his breeches, but paused as it came free. “I have heard that there are ways to prevent pregnancy… Are you well-versed in those ways?”
Mortification tightened her face as she waited his reaction. She knew she was being unforgivably forward, but in her position, she could not afford to be naïve, nor could she afford to ascend the throne with an illegitimate child.
A chuckle sounded deep in his chest. “Indeed. It’s been a while, I’m afraid, but it’s not something a man forgets.”
A ridiculous smile lessened the tension in her cheeks. The idea that it had been so long since he’d been with another woman gave her immense satisfaction.
Tentatively her fingers worked at the laces to his breeches then she hooked her thumbs in the waist and slid them around to either side. She stared into his eyes as she began working his breeches down his legs.
Unable to contain her curiosity, her gaze dropped as his manhood sprang free from his pants. It was hardly similar to all the nude statues that adorned the palace. It was a lot larger.
Her breath caught in her chest, and she struggled to take in air. Imagining the mechanics of taking it into her body had her face scorching.
He stepped back to kick his legs free from his pants then returned to stand close to her. He gathered the material of his shirt in his hands and quickly pulled it over his head, tossing it aside.
Never before had she seen anything as glorious as Merrick’s nude form. This was a man artists would fight over to sculpt, paint, view.
His long legs stood slightly apart, his hands at his sides as she drank him in. Her gaze darted over his hips and tightly drawn abdomen. Not an ounce of spare flesh gathered around the midsection that led to a muscular, broad chest.
A fine smattering of hair curled in the hollow of his chest and tapered to a fine line leading down to his groin. Unable to resist, she ran her hands over the dips and ridges of his chest and abdomen, loving the feel of his skin beneath her fingertips. It felt smooth, only slightly rough under her palms, rugged and completely male.
And finally as her courage mounted, she dipped her hand to curl around his rigid shaft.
His quick intake of breath as she began a slow up and down motion told her she wasn’t making a complete muck of things and gave her courage to continue on.
He placed his hands on her shoulders and walked her back toward the bed. “You’re a minx,” he growled in a voice that sent chill bumps over every inch of body.
Placing one hand behind her neck and the other on her hip, he lowered her to the bed and followed her down. His hand left her hip and ran over the smooth skin of her belly then up to her breasts.
As he kissed her, his tongue teased the corners of her mouth until she retaliated with her own tongue, meeting his and dueling in sensuous harmony.
She gasped against his mouth when his hand dipped between her legs and lightly brushed over her curls. Her legs parted in unconscious invitation. Taking advantage, he pressed a thumb between the folds of her skin and found her sensitive nub.
She nearly shot off the bed, gripping his shoulders as sensations resembling lightning bolts shot up her body. Squeezing her legs tightly against his seeking fingers, she moaned and twisted in agony.
“Relax,” he murmured, removing his hand from behind her head.
He placed his knees on either side of her legs, trapping her underneath him. He sat up and stared down at her, his eyes smoldering with desire.
Both his hands came out to cover her breasts, molding them to the contours of his palms. He rolled the tips between his fingers, and she closed her eyes, arching into his caress.
Then his hands left her breasts and captured her arms, swinging them over her head. He leaned forward as he pressed her shoulders into the mattress, and he trailed his fingertips from her wrists, down the tender skin on the inside of her elbow and beyond.
As she drew her arms down to touch him, he was quick to place them back above her head. She was completely at his mercy.
Slowly, he lowered his lips to one taut peak and sucked it between his lips. She gasped and struggled to free her arms from his grasp. He chuckled and turned his attention to her other breast.
He flicked out his tongue, ever so lightly licking the stiff nipple. Parts of her that didn’t bear mentioning tightened unbearably until she feared she might explode.
She writhed beneath him as he continued his assault on her breasts. His wet tongue ran over the tips until she wanted to scream at him to take it all in his mouth.
Then he did. And she experienced the single most intense thrill of her life. The room swirled around her, and finally she was able to free one of her hands. She gripped the back of his hair pulling him closer, not allowing him to stop his devilish attack on her senses.
When she could stand no more, she yanked his head away, nearly growling in her ferocity. She rose up as much as she could and forced his mouth to hers.
Simon matched her intensity with everything he had. Never before had he made love to such a responsive woman. She was bold, daring and met his advances with equal force. In short, she was magnificent.
Her nails scoured his back, clearly marking him as her own. He crushed his mouth down over hers, responding to her need for more. No space remained between their bodies as they undulated in perfect rhythm. And he hadn’t even entered her yet.
Her fiery gaze scorched him. She nipped his chin, his lips, his tongue with her teeth. Then she lowered her head and sank her teeth in his neck. “God, Isabella,” he panted, trying desperately to control his raging need.
She shoved at him, and, in one smooth motion, rolled him over so that she sat atop him. A mischievous smile curved her swollen lips. Her gorgeous, perfect breasts swayed before him like forbidden fruit. Fruit he desperately wanted to taste again.
The pink tips were erect and stiff, just perfect to suckle. He leaned up and circled the puckered aureole with his tongue then sank his teeth into the nipple. She nearly bolted right off his chest.
“Come here,” he rasped, curling his hands around her waist and positioning her so that her breasts swayed just inches from his mouth.
Two ripe, succulent peaches bobbed over him, and he was intent on devouring both. He lapped at them with his tongue then sucked them alternately into his mouth, grazing his teeth over the sensitive buds.
She ground her pelvis against him, and he was frantic to sink into her and never withdraw.
“Isabella,” he gasped out.
“What?” she answered in a tortured voice.
“I can’t go slow…can’t be gentle. I don’t want to hurt you.”
He was sure she was a virgin, and he had never lain with one. Virgin. It hit him with the force of a rock. His conscience pulled and nagged at him. He was about to take the virginity of the future Queen of Leaudor.
“I don’t want you to be gentle,” she said through gritted teeth.
He rolled back over her and spread her legs. “Isabella, are you sure? I can’t hold back any longer. You must
be sure this is what you want. Tell me to stop and I will.”
Sweat beaded his forehead, and he knew if he didn’t thrust into her now he would spend his seed on her belly before he ever got inside her. But still he waited, looking deeply into her eyes, searching for any resistance, any sign that she didn’t want what was about to take place.
In response, she arched her back and wrapped her legs tightly around his waist. “I may die tomorrow,” she whispered. “Even if I survive to take the throne, I would have no other man be my first.”
With a feral growl, he found her entrance and sank to her very depths in one thrust.
She stiffened, and for a moment, he feared he had hurt her. But then he looked down at the complete ecstasy displayed on her face and knew that wasn’t the case. She bucked against him, urging him on even before he rocked against her again.
Gripping her waist in his hands, he withdrew and plunged again, feeling the most indescribable pleasure he had ever experienced. His chest tightened as he sought to plant himself into her soul.
She was wild underneath him, rising to meet each thrust, her head thrown back in wanton abandonment. He had never seen a more beautiful sight.
A soft wail escaped her lips as her body arched and tightened. Her eyes shut tightly, and her mouth opened as more sounds of pleasure spilled forth. She convulsed around him, the velvety softness of her sheath caressing him, gripping him.
He was nearing his own peak as he watched her plummet over the edge, spiraling into the soft aftermath of her climax.
It was the hardest thing he had ever had to do, but he ripped himself from her as he felt his seed rushing to release. Gripping her tightly against him he pulsed against her abdomen, devouring her lips with his mouth, swallowing her cries of joy and muffling his own shouts of triumph.
As she quieted beneath him, he loosened his hold on her and smoothed her damp hair from her face. He kissed her tenderly, a change from their frantic urgency mere seconds ago. She snuggled tightly against him, and his chest constricted with the surge of emotion she elicited.
“Is it always like that?” she asked in a blissful tone.
He laughed. “Indeed not, and for that I am grateful. I couldn’t survive such an experience on a regular basis.” But even as he said it, he knew he spoke an untruth. He could never tire of being intimate with her, and he knew with certainty that it would always be just as exquisite between them.
She yawned against his chest. “It’s too bad really. I could get used to something so wondrous.”
He smiled as she cuddled against him like a warm kitten, content and replete after a saucer of milk. No matter what happened here on out, he would cherish this night and hold the memory of their coupling close to his heart.
* * *
Isabella opened her eyes, reluctant to come out of her euphoric haze. Merrick’s arms were tightly around her in a protective barrier against the outside world. One that would not intrude upon them for several more hours if she had any say.
She drew slightly away and gazed up at his face. How calm and deceptively mild he looked in sleep, his hair at his temple falling over his handsome face. She lifted her hand to smooth back the lock, tucking it behind his ear.
Not for a moment did she regret her actions. They had shared something truly spectacular, and whether she was merely a duty to him or not, she didn’t believe that he was unaffected by their union.
A wicked grin twisted her lips as she imagined the perfect way to awaken him. By her accounting, they had several more hours before arriving off the coast of Leaudor, and she planned to make the most of every single one.
She slid down his body and cupped his manhood in her hand. With care she began stroking it, then on instinct, she lowered her mouth and flicked out her tongue. She felt him awaken instantly, his hands immediately tangling in her hair.
With a slight twist of her head, she glanced up to see him staring at her, his eyes filled with desire. “So you are awake,” she teased.
“As if I could sleep when you are doing that,” he said raggedly.
“Would you like me to continue?” she asked, arching an eyebrow daringly at him.
“If you don’t, I may die. If you do, I still may die.”
“In that case,” she whispered ducking her head back down. Her eyes widened when she saw his shaft, rigid and straining toward her.
The fact that she was not at all sure what to do didn’t hinder her in the least as she wrapped her fingers around the base, smiling when he arched against her. A bit hesitantly at first, she closed her lips around the tip, but then she heard him moan and quickly gained confidence.
He writhed beneath her as she continued her gentle suckling. His hand gripped the back of her head tightly as he arched into her. Finally he yanked away from her and pulled her tightly against him.
In one swift movement, he rolled her underneath him, her stomach to the bed. Warm and wet, his tongue traced the line of her backbone from the small of her back to the base of her head. She shivered as he left a damp trail. Then, mimicking her earlier action, he sank his teeth into her neck, sucking and nipping at the sensitive flesh.
She dug her hands into the sheets, curling them in her hands, moaning with abandon. That she couldn’t see him, had no idea what he would do next was driving her slowly up an impossible peak.
She felt her legs spread under his firm hands then felt his hot breath blow over her buttocks. His hands kneaded the plump flesh there, and she arched up on her knees to give him better access.
The ache between her legs had begun in earnest, and if he didn’t touch her soon, she might well go mad. She buried her face in the pillow he had slept on, inhaling his masculine scent even as he tormented her with his fingers.
He massaged her most sensitive point then plunged two fingers into her, making her scream into the pillow. To her astonishment, she felt his shaft probing her entrance, and she was immediately flooded with the images of him mounting her from behind. Before she could react to such an erotic idea he was inside her, deep, hard, into the deepest recesses of her being.
She fought for breath as wave upon wave of intense pleasure washed over her. They fit perfectly together. She rocked back against him then pushed herself up off the pillow with her hands.
She threw back her head as he thrust forward again. He leaned over her, deeply embedded within, stilling his thrusts completely. His hands smoothed over her back and underneath to cup her breasts. He plucked her nipples like a finely tuned instrument and she went wild bucking against him, begging him with her body to continue his motions.
“Please…” she managed to gasp out.
With one last tug of her breasts, he let loose and thrust into her again and again. As she neared her peak, she shoved back against him as hard as she could. Then she let out a seemingly endless sigh as she toppled into complete oblivion.
Her vision blurred, and she feared she might lose consciousness. And still he didn’t stop. On the heels of her release, she began a second climb, faster than the first, and she begged him to stop. Begged him not to stop as she hovered precariously near the edge once more.
And with a final thrust, he made her completely his. She whimpered his name and surged forward against the bed, unseating him with the power of her movements.
His warm seed pulsed against her back as he shuddered against her. She closed her eyes, reveling in the delicious feel of his body atop hers, their sweat mingling, his warm salty smell wrapped around her like a cocoon.
“If I die tomorrow, I die a happy man,” he murmured in her ear.
She raised her head up and eyed him balefully. “You won’t die tomorrow because I won’t allow it.”
“Is that a command, Your Highness?”
“Indeed it is,” she said with a nod of her head. “And if you think to disobey me, know that I will haunt you for the rest of your days should you do something so despicable as die on me.”
He le
aned forward, brushing his lips across hers. The only sound in the room was their soft breathing and the slight smooching sound their lips made as they exchanged tender kisses.
“I have no intention of dying on you, Princess.”
She smiled at the endearment and cupped his cheek in her hand. “I couldn’t bear to lose you.”
She didn’t explain her statement or dwell on the absurdity of the notion. For indeed when it was all over with, she would lose him. But at least he would be well and alive. She could live with that even if it meant never seeing him again. Or being in his arms.
She sighed contentedly and relaxed in his arms despite her melancholy. She felt lighter, happy almost. Much of her pent-up hurt and anguish had been released in one molten explosion, and she felt energized. Ready to take on whatever awaited her in Leaudor.
Chapter Eighteen
February 20, 1815
Leaudor
The ship rolled and rocked with the gentle waves as the anchor was dropped. Moments later, Isabella tensed anxiously as the longboat was lowered into the water, and she tightened her grip on Merrick’s hand.
In the distance, she could hear the water crashing against the rocky coastline though she was unable to make out its outline in the night. And that was what frightened her. Though the men rowing them ashore were certainly able sailors, they were maneuvering in complete darkness. One false move, one mistake in direction, and they could be dashed on the many rock outcroppings and sucked under by the currents.
She tried to concentrate on the fact that within minutes she would step back onto her home soil for the first time in six months. A glance over at Merrick was unable to reveal any stress in his demeanor. Since leaving her cabin together an hour earlier, they had said little, completely focused on their impending arrival in Leaudor.
But she wasn’t able to so easily forget the hours they had spent in each other’s arms. It had been the single most satisfying and intimate experience of her life.
