A strand of empowerment surged through her, and she lowered her hand to the massive hard-on inside his pants. “I guess it’d be problematic if the royal boner saluted the crowd.”
He captured her lips with his. Seductively, he coaxed her to open her mouth for his sweet invasion. A moan formed in her throat, and he swallowed, turning her on even more. She squirmed in his lap, rubbing her bare pussy against his clothed cock. The warmth of his skin sifted through the fabric.
He reached for the back of her dress, unzipping it, and the top part quickly fell down, bunching at her waist. Tits exposed, with the AC blowing, another shiver raced down her spine. Growling, he cupped her breast, lifting it to his mouth, and touched the other, making invisible circles around the aureole.
Moaning, she bucked into him, clasping his head, pulling him closer. He latched onto her breast, his sinful mouth sucking and provoking hot tingles behind her nipple. She quivered with excitement and anticipation—loving how his lips felt on her, reveling in the sweet agony raising goose bumps on her flesh.
Impatient, she slid her hand down to unzip his pants, causing his tux to crease in the process. He grazed his teeth on her nipple, the sharp surface scraping her oversensitive bud. A shot of adrenaline thundered through her, spiking her heart rate, and she’d never felt more alive than now, in his arms.
He switched breasts, lapping at her nipple, and with a now free hand, he glided it down until he caressed the apex of her thighs. “No underwear.”
The stylist had advised against lingerie to avoid any lines. She’d never worn the kind of clothes that needed to conceal anything. “Are you disappointed?”
He slid three fingers inside her pussy, and she arched toward him, desire dimming her vision. Her blood pounded at her temples, and she chewed on her lip, afraid she’d moan too loud. Sure, the partition gave them visual privacy, but could his driver still hear them? “So wet.” He continued playing with her folds, adding this thumb to the party, then grabbed her breast again, sucking it.
A tremor coursed through her, and she rode his hand, loving how she’d come to learn how to climax. She shoved her hand into his pants and stroked his cock, already hard and pulsing into her palm.
“Tonight, my love, it’s time to explore your sweet ass,” he said, whispering in her ear.
During their time together, he’d eaten her ass, played with it, and in the last few days, started to finger it, using a special lube he’d bought, manipulating her hole to prepare her for anal sex. The simple idea raised her internal temperature even more.
“Yes,” she purred, the idea whipping her like a flog. Weeks prior, she’d have been surprised at her acquiescence. Now she couldn’t wait for him to claim every part of her as his. To give to him and keep giving. To—
A ding from the speaker startled her.
He continued kissing her, teasing her pussy, but the ding continued.
“Sir, I apologize,” the voice from the speaker said. The driver. “Your mother has tried to call you and since you seemed busy, she called me and asked me to tell you she needs to talk to you immediately.”
Nassor let out a long sigh, and she automatically slid off him. The warmth and fun disappeared like lint inside the vacuum cleaner. He ran his fingers down his face, his expression sobering. “I need to have a serious talk with my mother. I was hoping it didn’t have to be tonight.”
She squeezed his knee. “Is anything wrong?”
“Nothing you should worry about. We’ll arrive shortly.”
He recomposed himself, zipping his pants. She pretended to look outside, but an acid sensation spilled into her stomach. She touched it, willing it away, but the sourness nagged at her, making her shift in her seat even if that meant avoiding his gaze. Damn.
He’d have a serious conversation with his mother—possibly about her meddling in his personal life? She’d thought she and Nassor had made progress when he’d confided in her during their visit to the bed-and-breakfast. Now he told her not to worry about whatever made him stop the make-out session. Could she not worry?
She swallowed the lump of frustration lodging in her throat. Realization rolled down her throat, and the bile gave way to a sweeter aftertaste. She clapped her hand over her mouth, unwilling to share out loud what her mind and heart were just beginning to process.
I care for Nassor, and that’s a big fucking problem.
Chapter Ten
“One more picture, please, Your Highness,” the official photographer of the event said, gesturing at him and the director of the museum.
“The last one,” Nassor said, but managed to smile when the director faced the camera and grinned.
The flash almost blinded him, or perhaps it’d been the last thirty minutes since his arrival. From the red carpet to the entrance, guests had waved at him, bowed, watched. The more extroverted ones asked for pictures, and how could he deny them? His presence at the fund-raiser had enticed dozens of people to attend, and he couldn’t play hard to get now. Not when he wanted to find his mother in the crowd and tell her off for once and for all.
If she wanted to continue living in the castle, she had to live her own life. How did she expect him to marry four women while she acted like the fifth? Nope. Too much. He’d always been by her side, sure, but he’d left their home at eighteen and focused on studying then making money. He supported her—even financially after he’d made it with his financial investment firm—but this kind of intrusion wasn’t healthy for any of them. Maybe she saw something in Izzy that threatened her.
He shook the hands of another official, then the event director walked him to his VIP table, where Izzy had been waiting for him. To keep her from having to stand around while they took pictures of him, he’d asked the organizer to show her to his table as soon as they’d arrived.
His heart palpitated in anticipation, a low heat simmering in his blood when he shortened the gap between him and the table. Izzy read the brochure with pictures and facts about the museum. When she lifted her gaze and they found each other, she gave him an uneasy smile.
He marched to the table, hoping his mother wouldn’t have ruined this for him. She was supposed to come, but in her own limo. The few empty seats at their table showed they’d have company—most likely a couple of crème de la crème from Gwokon City. Boring types that tried to impress him with their talks of overpriced liquor and exclusive events.
He sat next to her and caught a whiff of her feminine scent. A need to touch her tingled the tip of his fingers, but he didn’t indulge. “Hey.”
She squared her shoulders. “Hi.”
An emotion he couldn’t read flashed in her eyes. Why was she wearing the contacts again? Ever since that night when she’d told him, he’d encouraged her to remove them. “Sorry for leaving you alone. Had to go make rounds and shake some hands.”
“I fully understand. I was thinking, maybe when you hear back from the security guy—”
He glanced around them to ensure no one was within earshot. Then he angled closer and said, “Oh, I forgot. John contacted me this morning. He located the man in a rather remote area of the country, and I told him to bring him back.”
“What? How come you didn’t tell me any of this?”
“I didn’t have the opportunity. I wanted to tell you later, after the party.”
She withdrew, her shoulders dropping a notch. “You’re not hiding something from me, are you? Some kind of evidence that could hurt your new position as king?”
“No,” he said quickly. “I see why you’d think so, but trust me, I’m not hiding anything.”
A flicker of confusion gleamed in her eyes. “Great. Then when is John Williams going to find him? I want to go with him.”
“You can’t go. It’s in a remote part of the country, so it’ll take a few days to get there. I can’t be away for that long, and I sure as hell am not letting you go ou
t there without me.” The simple idea of Izzy spending her nights away from him brought a sour taste to his palate.
“I don’t know this John fellow, but I doubt he’s really invested. How can you guarantee he’ll pick up the man? If he’s got any brains, he’ll run. Whereas if I go, I can question him before he bolts.”
“Izzy, no. Not happening.” The idea of his Izzy in the middle of nowhere with another man lassoed his gut, looped around, and tightened some more.
“But I—”
“You didn’t come to my country to go on a crazy search that could be dangerous. You came here—”
“To fuck you at your beck and call,” she said, raising her voice, throwing each word at him like a blade.
“Well, that’s settled, then,” his mother said behind him, her voice acidic.
Oh, fucking great. He turned to his mother, who was lifting her brow at Izzy. “This is a private conversation.”
“Not if she’s yelling for anyone to hear,” his mother said, folding her arms.
Nassor glanced around them, and a few guests turned their heads a bit too quickly, as if they had been watching them or at least trying to pay attention. He drew a breath, annoyed.
“I apologize for raising my voice,” Izzy said, her gaze trained at his mother. A trace of defiance leaked in her voice, hinting she wouldn’t fold. That’d been a strategic apology, nothing else.
A wave of pride washed over him. Izzy walked to the beat of her own drum, and he loved that about her. Loved her smart way of dealing with situations. Loved…
“Thank you,” Kesia said, and the waiter pulled a chair for her. “Why didn’t you tell me you were bringing your friend, Nassor?”
“I don’t need your approval.”
His mother tossed her braids to the side. “No, but it would have been nice to be prepared.”
“For what?”
“For hearing it from an assistant,” she said. “In a matter of weeks, Ms. Lima will go back to her life in the United States. But you, my dear, will stay here, and you need to remember your job.”
“She won’t go back,” he said, his lips unleashing a storm his brain quite hadn’t worked out.
“Pardon?” His mother’s mouth dropped, and her manicured brows furrowed together. “You can’t be serious.”
“Mother, I love you and I appreciate your concern. It’s my kingdom now and I can assure you I’m performing my duty well. Improving people’s lives is my main goal. I’m sure it’s their main concern too. Not whom I sleep with,” he said, then took a sip of the scotch, “or marry,” he finished, looking at her square in the eye.
…
Izzy tucked a wavy strand of hair behind her ear, wishing she could mentally transport herself to a different place. Her heart drummed so loud, she looked sideways to make sure the band hadn’t started playing.
What the hell did he mean she’d be staying?
He’s using me to piss off his mother. Why else would he imply she wouldn’t be going back to the States? She glanced at his mother, who drummed her fingers on the linen tablecloth. Nassor leaned back, and for the first time during the past few minutes, the contours of his face loosened.
“You know the laws here. A man with multiple wives must be faithful to them, otherwise they can sue him for public offense.”
Izzy straightened in her seat. Hell, why didn’t they apply that law in the United States? She could think of a few women growing up who would have liked to sue a man for betrayal. Heard enough stories from girls in college.
“What kind of king would I be if I didn’t know the laws?”
Kesia narrowed her eyes at him, probably growing impatient.
“If I may interrupt you,” the same coiffed lady who had shown Izzy her seat said, “Miss Morowa Peete has arrived.”
Oh, great. Fan-fucking-tastic. Gwokon’s answer to Halle Berry sat next to Izzy. A ball of apprehension grew in her throat, drying her vocal cords even if she’d been quiet.
“Kesia,” Nassor said, calling his mother by her given name for the first time. “You didn’t tell me Morowa would join us.”
“I was getting to that part,” his mother said. “It seems we both have surprise guests.”
A wave of heat spread across Izzy’s cheeks. She was used to unruly students, to having to talk to entitled parents who believed their kids did no wrong. She’d even managed to deal with a hard-ass principal most teachers avoided, all without much problem. But, this?
“Morowa, this is Izzy Lima. She’s been a royal guest from the States. We can’t tell much about what brought her here for national security reasons,” Kesia said, casually, slapping a smile on her face.
National security reasons. God. If she only knew.
“Nice to meet you,” Morowa said, offering her a hand. “How do you like our country?”
“It’s full of surprises,” she said, shaking it and releasing her hand quickly. She didn’t dare to look in Nassor’s direction. Obviously, his mother wanted him to take this gorgeous woman next to her as his wife. Morowa seemed nice, besides being drop-dead gorgeous.
And here I am, literally in the way. No wonder his mother had been so mad he’d brought her to this fund-raising event—Kesia had planned on cementing his future marriage to Morowa. A mix of sadness and shock chilled her bloodstream.
“What places have you visited, Izzy?” Morowa asked.
Izzy opened her mouth, but no sound came out. No. She couldn’t do this—act like she wasn’t sleeping with the man Morowa intended to marry. Lie. Deceive the poor woman. “Excuse me, I’m not feeling well,” she said, grabbing her clutch. She surged to her feet, and, avoiding looking at Nassor or his mother, said, “I’m sorry. Sorry.”
She turned around and walked briskly, zigzagging through the incoming crowd quickly. When she got to the exit, she exhaled, hoping some of the suffocating sensation would dissipate and her lungs would give her a break.
“Can I help you?” the valet asked.
“I need a taxi please. I need…to get out of here.”
Izzy stepped out of the shower, the clouds of steam still swirling around her. She’d hoped a hot shower would help her relax, but as she wrapped herself in the fluffy robe, tension continued pulling at her muscles.
Her maid had offered her a hot tea or milk with cookies, and she’d refused both options. Izzy ran her fingers through her freshly washed hair, then brushed the damp curls. With her face free from makeup, she watched her reflection in the mirror.
Nassor hadn’t told her about his meeting with John Williams until probed. Also, why didn’t he invite her along? Shouldn’t she have been included, since she had the most to lose? She brushed her hair more vigorously. No. He had the most to lose—if Mary’s death revealed a dark part of his uncle’s rule he’d rather sweep under the rug.
“Izzy,” the deep male voice she’d come to recognize so quickly said.
A jolt of surprise coursed through her, and she clenched the handle of the brush before turning in the direction of the sound. “What are you doing here?”
Nassor stood against the doorframe, the intensity in his eyes heating her insides. Without his jacket and with the first buttons of his tie-free shirt undone, he looked as gorgeous as ever. “You ran.”
“What else was I supposed to do? Wait for your engagement party? I may not be from here, but I can sense what was going on. Your mother wants you to marry that woman, and you used me as the scapegoat.”
“I didn’t know my mother would bring her,” he said, looking square into her eyes. Damn it, he sounded honest.
She swallowed. “Really?”
“And, frankly, I don’t need to use you as a human shield. I’m perfectly capable of declining by myself.” He slammed the doorframe. “Fuck. I can’t think straight anymore.”
Welcome to my world. “Why?”
; “Why do you think I fled an event immediately after you left? Why do you think I ruined any possibility of the match my mother had schemed behind my back?” He erased the distance between them, and when he was within a hair’s breadth, her knees nearly buckled. Blood rushed down her pussy, swelling her folds and puffing her clit. She lifted her chin to gaze into his eyes, her heart beating staccato. “It’s you, Izzy. I’m falling for you. I can’t let you out of my sight, let alone let you return to America.”
His words played in her ear like a new song—a famous, billboard-charting song she’d heard about but never truly listened to. Her heart thrummed in her ears, the sound of her own breathing amplified. He’s falling for me. The idea, still as foreign as the country she visited, shot fear and excitement in her veins.
He pulled her to him, and she didn’t fight him, her robe loosening with the collision into his chest. “You’re all mine, Isabela Lima. I’m yours—and there’s not a damn thing either of us can do about it.”
She stood on her tiptoes, dragging his head down to kiss him. Raw emotions inundated her chest, feelings she’d never known before. Fear. Hope. Confusion.
Is this really happening?
“And tonight, sweet Izzy, you’ll be mine in every way.”
Chapter Eleven
Mine in every way.
The words rumbled in his body, arousal consuming him.
He pressed his mouth on hers, thrusting his tongue past her lips and into her wet heat. She responded with the same passion, encircling her arms around his head, plastering herself against him, squirming into him so seductively.
His blood rushed down his cock fast, too fast, almost leaving him lightheaded. He, Nassor Obadu, lightheaded.
He nipped her lower lip, earning a sexy moan from her. Then, he pressed her against the counter and removed her robe until it slid down her smooth body and pooled at her feet. God, what an amazing woman she was… When she’d left the ballroom and stormed out of the place, his heart had sunk to the ground. That’s when he’d known he couldn’t possibly let her walk out of his castle—or his country, or his life.
Sold to the King Page 10
