by Lauren Dane
Oh God.
She closed her eyes as he slid deep, pumping with quick, frenzied motions. He’d been finished long before the others had. He’d had the longest to wait while the others took their turns. Now he was hard and unbelievably aroused again and it was clear he had every intention of sating himself once more.
She lay there, existing in that delicious dream state while he hunched down over her and thrust in and out with deliberate, forceful thrusts. It was obvious he had no intention of drawing it out. Maybe he didn’t want to overtire her. Within a dozen thrusts, he was already coming, his hands gripping her hips tight as he held himself deep.
And then he stepped away.
No longer able to hold herself up on her knees, she slowly rolled to her side, curling her legs up so she was in a comfortable ball.
“My poor darling,” Xander murmured.
His voice was close and his breath brushed over her ear. She opened her eyes to see him crouched next to her. Then he slid his arms underneath her, lifting her into his arms.
“Come, my precious Talia. You and I will go have a nice long bath and then you’ll rest.”
She smiled dreamily and snuggled deeper into Xander’s chest. She turned her face into his neck as he mounted the stairs leading to his bedroom.
She’d been used, much like a favorite toy, but it was the manner in which they’d taken her that had made all the difference.
She’d never felt so cherished or cared for in her life.
Chapter 20
After three months on the island, Talia had forgotten what it was like to live anywhere else. Her days were spent in luxury. Endless spoiling. Waited on hand and foot.
At times it was almost as if the men took turns commanding her, or that she would spend certain days with one and other days with another.
Xander was a constant presence but often he would stand back and watch. Silent. Dominant. He liked to see the other men dominate her. He liked to watch them fuck her, sometimes alone, sometimes in a twosome or even threesome and then afterward, he’d come in, when she’d been sated and satisfied by his men and then he’d fuck her with ruthless precision as if to remind her who she truly belonged to and that everything else that happened did so at his behest.
At night she slept alone, with Xander. He began every morning by rolling onto her, parting her thighs and driving deep. Other times he’d push her onto her belly and thrust into her ass. And then on occasion, he’d pull her head down to suck him off and relieve the morning erection.
Afterward he would leave the bedroom and then send one of the other men to prepare her for the day.
It was a routine she’d fallen comfortably into. She knew what was expected. Knew just how her days would begin and how they’d end.
They always began with Xander. They always ended with Xander.
What happened in between was anyone’s guess and a source of constant excitement for Talia.
She stretched in the big bed she shared with Xander and idly wondered who would come for her today. Sometimes, they would fuck her before allowing her to rise. Other times she would go to her knees beside the bed before she was allowed to go downstairs and she’d have to suck their cocks.
And other times, she was pleasured beyond measure, given orgasm after orgasm until she was begging for mercy and had to be carried downstairs afterward because she lacked the strength to walk on her own.
As silly as it sounded, she was in love. With Xander. With Garon. And Sebastien. And Nico.
It was a complicated mess, but Xander would have her believe that the situation was the epitome of simplicity.
It wasn’t something she could worry over, though, or she’d just drive herself crazy. So she went with it and found herself sliding deeper under their spell with each passing day.
Xander had told her he never had any intention of letting her go. She’d wait quietly for that six-month mark on the contract to expire and see what happened then.
“You’re looking particularly satisfied this morning,” Nico drawled from the door.
She rolled to her side, rose up on her elbow, making her hair fall across her breasts.
“Good morning,” she said with a warm smile.
He returned her smile and strode into the bedroom to sit on the edge of the bed. His hand went automatically to caress her side and wander aimlessly down her hip and then back up to her breasts.
He liked to touch her, seemed to find great pleasure in it. He was more openly affectionate than the others, and by that she meant in a nonsexual way. They were all plenty adoring when it came to sex, but even casually, during the day Nico would often make affectionate gestures. She loved that about him.
“Today, you’ll dress,” he announced.
She raised both eyebrows in mock astonishment. “Dressed? What’s this?”
He laughed. “Thought we’d go down to the beach. You’ll need to be covered. You can wear your favorite sundress, a shawl and your big straw hat.”
She sat up and stretched and then crawled to the edge to sit beside him for a moment.
“That sounds lovely. It looks to be a particularly gorgeous day today.”
He nodded. “I’ll go downstairs to wait for you. Take your time. I’ll make sure Wickersham has your favorite breakfast prepared and then we’ll go soak in the sun.”
She watched as he got up and walked out of the bedroom and then she hugged her arms around herself, smiling in contentment. Evidently it was Nico’s day to spend the majority of the day with her. Xander would join them for lunch in all likelihood. Most of his mornings were spent in updates and phone calls on the status of Cristofino. Toward the end of the day, they’d be joined by Garon and Sebastien and they’d delight in taking her in ways that made her head spin.
She pushed herself upward from the bed and went to take a quick shower. She left her hair wet after toweling most of the excess moisture from it because it would dry quickly in the sun.
After finishing in the bathroom, she found the sundress she was to wear, grabbed the thin floral shawl that she’d drape over her shoulders and then reached up on the closet shelf for the wide, floppy straw hat that kept the sun off her face.
She hummed lightly as she headed downstairs. Often Wickersham would have breakfast out on the terrace for her since she’d developed an affinity for eating outdoors when the patio was still cool.
As she passed Xander’s office-slash-library, she heard him speaking in raised tones.
“I will not bring Talia back to Cristofino with me under any circumstances. I won’t have her associated with me.”
Her mouth dropped open and hurt crowded in, squeezing the breath from her. She would have listened for more, but he dropped his voice, almost as if he realized how loudly he’d spoken and was now moderating his speech.
Who on earth could he have been talking to? Sebastien? Garon? Someone else entirely?
Numbly she walked toward the terrace doors, coldness settling into the pit of her stomach. As she’d suspected, Nico was already outside at the table where breakfast had been laid out. He’d fixed her plate and was pouring a glass of orange juice as she approached.
How the hell was she supposed to eat now? She honest to God feared that if she took one bite, she’d vomit it back up.
What could he have meant?
She nearly snorted over her own damn ignorance. What it meant was that she was his private little plaything and that it would never do for his relationship with her to become public.
He didn’t want his “association” with her to be known.
It hurt and she had no defense against it. She couldn’t tell herself that it was all right, that he was just a lying asshole and that she shouldn’t care what he had said or what he thought.
Naïve or not, she’d believed him when he’d told her he cared about her, that he didn’t want to let her go. She believed it when the others professed to have feelings for her. She wasn’t going to waste time feeling shame for buying into someth
ing that had been so convincingly presented.
“Is something wrong, Talia?” Nico asked.
She glanced up to see concern etched on his face. She forced a smile and shook her head. Then she reached for her glass of juice, wondering how on earth she was supposed to be normal after hearing that little explosion from Xander’s lips?
It was obvious he was angry about something, but there was nothing she could have done to upset him. She had no paranoia about that. She’d been accommodating, obedient and submissive at all times.
She nearly made a sound of disgust. She may as well be describing a lap dog. Dear God, she was starting to feel like such a fool for buying into this whole charade.
Knowing Nico was watching her closely, she made a show of picking at her food, shoving it around, choking down a few bites. Finally she had enough and just shoved it back, knowing she couldn’t possibly stomach another forkful of the eggs and toast.
“Are you ready to hit the beach?” Nico asked. “There’s a spot I’d love to show you, but it’s a bit of a walk from here if you’re up for it.”
She licked her lips and swallowed, hating that she was about to lie to him. But then she felt lied to about pretty much everything at this point.
“I don’t feel very well, Nico. I was fine earlier. Maybe it was what I ate.”
His expression immediately became one of concern.
“Could I…Could I just go back upstairs and maybe lie down for a while?”
He was up and reaching for her hand before she even got the words out.
“Of course,” he said, concern edging his voice. “I’ll take you up and inform Xander at once.”
Talia held up a hand. “No, please don’t bother him. He usually doesn’t join us until lunchtime. Perhaps I’ll feel better by then.” Liar. She wouldn’t, but the last thing she wanted was Xander breathing down her neck until she wasn’t so raw from what she’d overheard.
Nico looked torn but then he ushered her toward the door. “Is it your stomach? Your head? Tell me what’s bothering you.”
“Just my head,” she said, sticking to the truth. Her entire head ached vilely and she wanted nothing more than to stick a pillow over it and close her eyes. Maybe then she’d wake up and none of this would have happened.
Even better, maybe she’d wake back in Paris and this whole three months would have been nothing more than a really erotic dream.
Chapter 21
Xander broke off his conversation with Garon and Sebastien when his office door swung open. He relaxed when he saw it was Nico, but then he tensed, realizing that Nico should be with Talia.
“Where’s Talia?” he demanded.
A frown marred Nico’s forehead. “She’s not feeling well. I took her onto the terrace to eat breakfast. I knew you wouldn’t want her where she would hear any of what’s going on. She picked at her food. It didn’t seem like she felt well. Afterward when I suggested a walk down the beach, which she’s usually more than up for, she said she had a headache and asked if she could go up to bed.”
Concern made his already shitty mood even worse. Talia wasn’t a complainer. She hadn’t had a single ailment, other than experiencing her monthly periods, and even then she’d seemed not to feel well only once.
“What’s the situation, Xander?” Nico clipped out. “What the hell’s going on back home?”
Xander sighed and dropped into the chair behind his desk. “It’s a fucking mess.”
“Not true exactly,” Sebastien pointed out.
Xander shot Sebastien a look that told him he was fast approaching the line not to cross. Sebastien shrugged and turned to stare out the window.
Then Xander turned his attention back to Nico so he could fill Nico in on all that had occurred while he was busy with Talia.
“I received a phone call this morning from the newly appointed ‘prime minister’ of Cristofino.”
Nico’s expression darkened. “We have no prime minister. He is not recognized by our people.”
Xander held up a hand. “Let me finish. All isn’t well with the new regime. The people are indeed very unhappy with the direction that the insurgents are going. They want the royal family reinstalled. What was an effort to overthrow the monarchy with as little bloodshed as possible, apart from the assassination of my father,” he added bitterly, “has now led to full-scale rioting and revolting in the streets of the capital. It’s out of control and it’s only going to get worse. The insurgents are basically waving the white flag.”
“What the hell does that mean?” Nico demanded.
“What it means is that they’re proposing a truce…and a compromise.”
Nico sank into one of the armchairs. Garon was still standing, arms locked over his barrel chest while Sebastien stared angrily out the window. They were all loyal to Xander. To the royal family. They’d been loyal to Xander’s father. They were loyal to their country. They hated that Xander had been forced out of the country and that he’d bided his time here, so many miles away while his country and people needed him.
“And what is this compromise?” Nico asked wearily.
“They’ll reinstall the monarchy. My mother and sister will return to the palace. I’ll be crowned king.”
“That’s not a compromise. That’s capitulation,” Nico said.
“Yes, well there’s a catch,” Xander said grimly. “They want to establish a congress of sorts who will govern alongside the king or act in an advisory capacity and reserve the right to have a vote of confidence if at any time they feel the king is not acting in the best interests of the country. The other thing? They want me there immediately to attend a full-scale media event announcing my return.”
Nico stared back at him in shock. For a moment he didn’t speak at all. He seemed to struggle with his reaction, almost as if he didn’t want Xander to know his true feelings.
“Say what’s on your mind, Nico,” Xander said quietly. “You won’t have said anything Garon and Bastien haven’t already said, I’m sure.”
“What about Talia?” Nico asked.
“I don’t know,” Xander said honestly.
It frustrated that the answer wasn’t cut and dried. Not simple. He could rail against the fairness of having to choose between a woman who meant everything to him and the future of his country and fulfilling his destiny, but he’d always known that he would face tough decisions. He’d always known his life wasn’t his own.
He didn’t have the luxury of choice. Many choices had been made for him at birth. He didn’t waste time lamenting it. It was his life.
He couldn’t turn his back on this. It was what he’d waited for. The opportunity to return to his country. To have his mother and sister safely back behind palace walls. To lead his country as he’d been meant to do.
“I must return immediately,” Xander said in a low voice. “I can’t delay. Too much is at stake.”
Garon’s lips thinned. Sebastien turned from his place by the window, his mouth twisted into a frown.
“And Talia?” Nico said. “Where does she fit into all of this?”
“I can’t—I won’t—expose her to such a volatile situation. I won’t have her associated with me in any way. If they knew I had any weaknesses at all, they would exploit them in a heartbeat. They’d drag Talia through the mud and have no mercy in doing so. She could even be in very real danger if it was determined she had any meaning to me. They’d use her to make me capitulate to any and all of their demands and they’d have no compunction in doing whatever was necessary to her to gain that capitulation. These are the men who ruthlessly murdered my father, their king. One young girl means nothing to them. I cannot risk her. I won’t risk her. She may mean nothing to them, but she is everything to me.”
There was silence in the room. Xander knew that his men had no more liking for the situation than he did. He could sense their frustration. It coiled and snapped like a living, breathing entity in the small confines of his office.
“She must return
to Paris at once. Discreetly of course. None of you can accompany her. She must return the way she came. It’s widely known that I am never without any of you. If one of you is seen in Paris or it’s known you weren’t with me in such an important time, it will open the door to investigation, and I won’t risk Talia that way.”
Garon let out a curse that was picked up by Sebastien and was explosive in the room.
“Goddamn it, Xander, she’s going to think we used her,” Garon snarled.
Xander wanted to put his fist through the wall. He sat there a long moment, trying to control the rage and helplessness that was boiling through his veins. He hated the helplessness.
Finally he spoke, but he knew his voice was tight and not his own. “I can’t know what can be done until I return to Cristofino and assess the situation there. And in the meantime, I will not risk any harm coming to Talia, nor would I have her exposed to a media feeding frenzy. She deserves none of that.”
“And what are you going to tell her, Xander?” Sebastien asked. “The truth?”
Xander expelled a long breath. “I can only tell her that I am terminating our agreement early and that she is free to return home to her mother.”
Chapter 22
Talia lay on her stomach, pillow shoved under her chin as she stared out the big picture window to the splash of blue in the distant horizon. After having lain here for the last hour, she’d calmed down and lectured herself on overreacting.
She’d overheard two sentences with no context to draw from. She had no idea what Xander had been talking about and it was unfair—not to mention stupid—to fly off the handle when she had no idea what he’d really meant.
Now her mood was shattered and what should have been an otherwise beautiful day was in ruins because she’d gotten all emotional—and irrational.
It didn’t help that she simply didn’t know her place in this new world she’d been dumped into. Words were just words. And she’d heard them often. But what if she was a naïve twit who’d believe anything said to her as long as it was accompanied by sweet gestures and a gentle hand?
