by Lauren Dane
She wore no jewelry. It was a fact he’d noticed when she’d arrived. And it was a matter he definitely wanted to correct. There was nothing more he wanted to do than spoil her endlessly and lavish gifts on her. He wanted to drape her in diamonds and make love to her wearing nothing more than the jewelry he’d given her.
Shaking himself from his fantasies, he stepped onto the terrace. Talia inhaled deeply, closed her eyes and turned her face into the sun. The breeze from the water ruffled her hair and he was captured by how sensual she looked.
When she opened her eyes again, they simmered with pleasure. Warm and vibrant like the rest of her. She smiled at him, warming him to his toes.
“I can’t imagine waking to this every day.”
He smiled back. “And yet our home is an island every bit as beautiful.”
Her expression saddened and the smile disappeared. “But I haven’t been home in four years. And while I was there…I took it for granted, you know? When you live it, were born to it, sometimes you don’t recognize the beauty until you’ve lost it.”
“Very true,” he said quietly.
He too had taken Cristofino for granted. Hadn’t appreciated the beauty of his island home until it was lost to him. When—not if—he regained the throne, he would never make such a mistake again.
“Are things better there, Xander?” she asked anxiously.
They’d just gotten to the steps leading down into the lower garden with the pathway that led to the beach. He paused a moment, not wanting any distraction as they navigated the stone steps. Sometimes they were damp with the ocean mist and as a result could be slick.
He sighed, feeling heartsick and homesick all at the same time. “There is tenuous peace but the battle over government still rages. The majority want and are loyal to the royal family, but the minority is strong and are willing to use violence to achieve their purpose. The very last thing I want is bloodshed. It’s why I agreed to this ‘exile.’ I effectively removed myself from the equation because the alternative is bloodshed for my people. After my father was killed, I knew the country was on the verge of full-scale war.”
“What is to be done then?” she asked, her eyes sad.
“We wait. Quiet dissension. Rebel against the rebels themselves. Those who were unsatisfied with the rule of Cristofino are fast discovering that they have no clear plan of leadership nor are they qualified to govern a people who have no loyalty to them. It is my hope that through peaceable means, I can regain control—and my birthright.”
“And if you don’t?”
“I won’t entertain any other option,” he said quietly. “Though I am here, many that are still in leadership positions are loyal to me. They work within the system to gain support.”
“That could take years,” she said unhappily.
He nodded. “Yes, it could. But the end result would make the wait worth it. I don’t want my country to be a bloodbath. If it comes down to taking by force or me standing down, I’ll stand down because what I will have won will be contaminated by the lives lost and the blood shed.”
She reached for his hand, squeezing it. “You are very noble, Xander. And wise. I too couldn’t bear to see Cristofino turned into a battlefield where our people are pitted against each other in civil war. No one can possibly be hailed a victor in such circumstances.”
Some of the ache in his heart lessened at the shining approval in her eyes. He twined his fingers tighter in hers and then guided her down the steps.
“Take care and stay close. I don’t want you to slip,” he cautioned.
She nestled closer to his side and he automatically put his arm around her, dropping her hand so he could hold her close. She fit like a dream. Soft, curvy. He could feel the lushness of her body through the thin layer of the robe she wore.
Yes, he wouldn’t be able to wait any longer. All plans of a prolonged, staged seduction were out the window. There was no way he could continue to remain in her presence and not want to claim her.
She made an exclamation of wonder when they entered the floral garden. “Xander, it’s beautiful! How do you not spend all your time here? I don’t think I’d ever leave. And, oh look, a hammock!”
She started to pull away but then drew up short and went still. She looked at him with regret as if thinking she’d done something wrong.
He pulled her hand up to kiss the inside of her palm. “Never dim your enthusiasm around me, Talia. I’m not so rigid that you can’t express your enjoyment without having permission.”
She smiled, her eyes lighting up and then she dashed away, throwing herself into the hammock that stood in the corner. She was so exuberant that she nearly flipped right out of it. He made a lunge for her just as she righted herself.
Laughing, she stared up at him, arms thrown over her head, a dreamy look in her eyes as she swayed back and forth in the breeze.
“This is wonderful. I can’t remember the last time I did something so lighthearted and…fun! I was always so busy with Mama and school.”
Xander’s heart twisted. He knew all too well how much time she’d devoted to her mother and to her studies. He knew she’d had next to no social life, which in turns delighted and saddened him. He wanted her to enjoy the things a woman of her age should enjoy, and yet the selfish part of himself loved the idea of being the one to provide those things for her. And he was savagely happy that she’d given herself to no one before now.
It wouldn’t have mattered to him if she hadn’t come to him a virgin. He would have wanted her still. But that she was still untouched gave him a measure of satisfaction that couldn’t be described.
“I think I could stay here all day,” she said wistfully.
He smiled and extended his hand to help her out. “I tell you what. Let’s continue our little tour. We’ve yet to dig our toes into the sand. When we return for my call at eleven, I’ll leave you out here in the hammock until I’m finished and summon you back inside.”
She grasped his hand and let him pull her up. “That sounds amazing. Just lying here watching the sky and listening to the waves.”
He took her hand again, liking touching her. He found he couldn’t help himself. When she was close, he had to be touching some part of her.
“You can leave your shoes here if you like,” he said when they reached the drop-off to the sand of the beach.
She shook off the flip-flops and then glanced up at him. “Not going to take off your sandals?”
“I hadn’t thought to, no.”
“Oh, come on. Lighten up,” she teased. “Roll up your pants and we’ll get our feet wet.”
He couldn’t have told her no for any reason. Not when she had finally relaxed and was creeping out of that shell of uncertainty. With an exaggerated, resigned sigh, he reached down to pull the sandals off and then rolled the ends of his trousers up to midcalf.
He reached for her hand again and stepped onto the beach. She made a sound of bliss and immediately dug her toes deeper into the powdery sand. He waited a moment and then tugged her toward the water’s edge, several feet away.
The water slid inward, foaming over the sand before receding, leaving wet, packed-in sand. They moved closer and when the water rushed back at them, Talia let out a squeak and then danced back, dodging the water and leaving him to stand ankle deep.
He eyed her balefully. “Whatever happened to let’s go put our feet in the water?”
She laughed and the sound sparkled like the sun dancing off the water. Then she rejoined him, this time remaining in place when the water once again rushed ashore.
She stared over the horizon, her expression one of supreme peace. Then she slowly rotated, taking in every detail of her surroundings.
Her hair whipped in the breeze, lifting off her shoulders and swirling like a mass of dark silk. The thin robe ruffled, baring parts of her skin depending on which way she turned.
He was treated to a tantalizing glimpse of her bottom and then the soft curls covering her pussy. And
when she turned again, he could clearly see the outline of her breasts. The material molded to her nipples and it was all he could do not to drop to his knees, push aside the offending material and suck the velvety nub into his mouth.
Instead he simply pulled her into his arms and kissed her.
Her hair blew over them both. Each brush of the silken strands over his skin made him more eager to delve his fingers into the heavy mass and kiss every inch of her mouth, her face, her neck.
She made the sweetest sound of surrender, which only made him ache all the more fiercely. He considered himself a civilized man, despite his sexual proclivities, which might make him taboo to most people. But at the moment he was feeling decidedly uncivilized. More like a caveman set to haul his woman over his shoulder and into the cave to have raw, savage sex.
He feasted on her lips. Devoured them, tasted, licked, nibbled. He slid his tongue over hers, savoring the feel of her in his arms and in his mouth.
There was no mistaking the erection threatening to burst from his pants. He only hoped to hell he didn’t scare the devil out of her. There was no hiding it or disguising it. It pressed into her soft belly and he was dangerously close to spending himself in his underwear.
Instead of being wary, she drew away, her eyes half lidded as she stared up at him. She tentatively brushed her fingers down his body, closer and closer to his aching groin.
When she actually cupped the ridge of his erection, he let out a harsh groan that had her snatching her hand back.
He caught her hand and pressed it back. “God, no, don’t take it back.”
“I thought I’d done something wrong,” she said huskily.
“You touching me is never wrong.”
He let go of her hand and she left it there, carefully molded to the outline of his cock. He ran his fingers through the strands of her hair, futilely trying to keep it in check against the wind.
“I am controlled in every aspect of my life. My calm is legendary. And necessary when dealing with politics and the daily routine of serving my people. And yet with you I feel completely and utterly out of control. I’m not sure I like it.”
To his surprise, she laughed. He’d worried that she’d be offended. Or that she would sulk or pout or take it as an insult. Instead her eyes danced with merriment.
He frowned, uncertain now of what was so hilarious.
“What’s so funny?”
“You are,” she said with an impish grin. “The uptight, staid prince is unbalanced by little ole me.”
“Uptight? Staid? I’ll show you uptight,” he growled. “Or rather I’ll show you something tight. Like how your sweet little pussy grips my dick when I’m pushing inside you.”
She went silent, her breath hiccupping out in a forceful rush. For a moment he thought he’d gone too far. She’d been so playful and relaxed. He didn’t want her to go back to being reserved and uneasy.
But then the corner of her mouth lifted and she cocked her head to one side. “Guess I’ll have to wait and see this tightness you speak of.”
“Feel,” he murmured. “You’ll feel it, and God help me, so will I.”
She glanced down at his watch and then grimaced. “It’s nearly time for your call.”
Yes, it was. Time had gotten away and it had felt good to let go of all the worry and stress pressing down on him. Here, standing in the ocean, barefooted with pants legs rolled up, he felt a measure of freedom he hadn’t felt in a long time.
His duty awaited him, but for just a few moments, he’d been able to be just another ordinary human being enjoying the company of a beautiful woman.
Chapter 9
A shadow loomed over Talia, momentarily blocking the sun. Her eyes, which had been half closed, flew open, and she saw Garon standing over her, a towel over one arm and holding a bottle of sunblock in his other hand.
“Xander wishes you to be better protected from the sun,” Garon rumbled out in his deep voice.
“Uh, okay.”
She reached for the bottle, but Garon instead extended his hand down to grip hers. She looked at him in confusion, but he tugged her gently upward until she rolled out of the hammock she’d been lazing in.
“There’s a lounger just over there,” Garon said. “If you’ll disrobe, I’ll lay out the towel so you can lie down on it while I apply your sunblock.”
She couldn’t help the flutter of nervousness that rose into her throat at the thought of once again being naked in front of him and whoever else happened to be watching.
The robe offered little-to-no coverage, but it still made her feel better to have something rather than be stark naked.
She took a deep breath, determined to get over the burst of panic that accompanied what would likely be a routine request from this point forward. Xander had told her as much already. Naked. He—they—wanted her naked at all times.
She let the robe slide over her shoulders and down her body to pool at her feet. She walked robotically toward the lounger, determined that she would get over this self-consciousness.
Garon moved around her and quickly arranged the plush towel and then motioned her down.
“Lie on your belly first so I can do your back. Then I’ll have you turn over so I can do the rest.”
Grateful that she could ease into the whole experience by shielding most of her nudity at least for a little while, she crawled onto the lounger and settled down, resting her cheek against the warm cushion.
For a moment she was tense, the anticipation wracking her already overwrought nerves. Then his hands came down over her shoulders and she went rigid.
“Relax,” he murmured. “This is supposed to feel good.”
The deep, husky timbre of his voice was a balm to her discomfort. She did as he commanded and let herself go limp. Her muscles ached but the moment his hands slid over her skin, she let out a sigh and sagged onto the lounger.
He worked with patience and great attention to detail. He left no spot uncovered as he massaged his way down her body.
When his hands closed over her behind, she let out a soft moan. Embarrassed to have let it slip, she clamped her lips shut and focused on enjoying the wicked sensations he invoked.
He lingered longer over the globes of her ass, massaging, caressing, sliding his palms up to the small of her back, spanning her waist and then working back down. She’d swear he was a professional at giving massages. She was out of her head with pleasure.
She was nearly unconscious when he lifted her into his arms and rolled her onto her back. Holy hell, but the man was strong. He very carefully put her down, making sure the towel was still in place. He even pushed back her hair, winding it around one hand before tucking it behind her neck.
If this was any indication of how the next six months was going to go, she was going to live a fantasy existence. She wasn’t entirely certain about the sex aspect of it yet. She wasn’t entirely ignorant of the practice. But the way they handled her told her that they would likely be generous and thoughtful lovers.
Waited on hand and foot by four gorgeous men. Pampered endlessly. Spoiled rotten. And this was supposed to be her repayment of a debt? If this was debt repayment, then she was going to have no compunction about incurring it regularly.
This time he started at her feet and damn if the man probably knew exactly what he was doing by making her wait for him to touch her more intimately.
The anticipation was killing her. Her insides began to quiver. Her breasts tingled, tightened, and her nipples were so hard that the slightest breeze brushing across the tips sent jolts of pleasure winging through her body.
Her groin ached and tightened unbearably. She was damp and her clit throbbed. And he hadn’t even come near her pussy or her breasts yet. Maybe he wouldn’t even touch them.
At this point, she might sob in frustration if he didn’t.
Closer and closer his hands crept as he caressed his way up her legs. Both hands circled one leg, moving upward, parting her thighs. His knuck
les barely brushed against her lips but it was enough to send a shiver rolling over her entire body.
Then he moved to the other leg and began lower, working his way higher until he reached the same spot.
To her utter chagrin, he moved up to her belly, smoothing more of the lotion over her upper pelvis and abdomen. He moved in a circular motion, sliding closer to her breasts with every stroke.
With one hand, palm flat on her belly, he moved up her midline, between her breasts to the hollow of her throat. She swallowed, her throat moving up and down underneath his fingers. He drew his hand away long enough to squeeze another small portion of the sunblock into his palm and then he carefully cupped the swell of her breast.
She inhaled sharply, her chest rising with the swift intake of breath. Slowly and methodically he worked in a circle around her nipple. Frustration rose sharp and unrelenting. She wanted…
She wanted him to do something. Something more. This was a slow, torturous tease. She wanted him to touch her. Images of his mouth sucking at her nipples flashed in her mind. She wanted that. Anything but this awful hunger that gnawed at her.
“Garon, please.”
The softly spoken plea escaped despite her determination not to beg for what she wasn’t even sure she could have.
His gaze met hers and she was drowning in those dark pools, mesmerized by the glowing intensity. He lowered his head and she held her breath until she was light-headed. Maybe this was why he hadn’t touched her nipples. If he was going to put his mouth on them, he wouldn’t have wanted to taste the sunblock.
Oh please, please, let him put his mouth on her. She burned with need. He’d stoked the embers into a raging fire. Every cell of her body screamed for release.
When his mouth hovered mere centimeters above her hardened nipple, he swept his tongue out and licked the point.
She nearly shot off the lounger. She gasped and bowed upward, shocked by the sheer force of her reaction. It was like being struck by lightning.
