by Alice Ward
Xander does that.
My breath caught in my throat as the image of Xander flashed in my mind. Xander with no clothes. Xander with a cock pointing straight at me. Xander moving closer as I fell to my knees, willing to please him. It would be his scent that touched me first, then maybe his hands in my hair as he held my head still, readying me for his invasion.
How would he taste? Salty? Sweet? Would his skin be smooth as he moved between my lips? Would he be so big that I gagged on his flesh, and if I did, would he be understanding or upset?
My stomach twisted at the thought.
He would be understanding, I knew. And patient, just as he’d been in the laundry room.
Could I be like Nellie?
By the end of the novel, Nellie had opened her mouth gladly. She’d licked and sucked, taken Jacob deep into her throat. She’d cupped his testicles in her hand, causing him to go into raptures. And when he came, she swallowed every drop.
Could I do that? With Xander?
“Stop it!”
The sound of my voice in the quiet room surprised me, and I moved my hand from between my legs, disgusted with myself.
I needed to stop this.
I was pathetic. Xander probably thought I was at least borderline pathetic too.
In the hours I’d known him, I’d done little else other than cry or show how terribly useless I was as a human. I couldn’t even wash a small load of clothing, for goodness’ sake. I could only imagine how he’d look at me if he had to walk me through the steps of sexual intercourse too.
If he even wanted me like that.
My body stirred deep inside. He wanted me like that, I could tell.
But wanting and taking were two different things for most people. Honorable people, and I sensed the honor in Xander. But what if he took? What if he came into my bedroom in the night and slid in beside me? Would I fight him, tell him to go?
No, I wouldn’t.
There was only one thing left of me that belonged in the past, belonged to Princess Madeleina Birgitta. My virginity. With it gone, I would no longer hold the loathsome “prize” Prince Vitalievich had paid such a high price for.
With it gone, I could escape the bonds of my overly protected life.
I could be Maddie… free.
At my last physician appointment, the gynecologist had been distressed to see that very little of my hymen remained. I’d been checked every six months since my sixteenth year to ensure I remained pure. My father hadn’t been happy. He had called me into his chambers, demanding to know who I’d whored myself out to. It had been a terrible fight.
“How can you say that?” I’d asked him in disbelief. “How would I have managed such a tryst? I have no moment on my own. I’m never unescorted. I’m under your lock and key, so Father, please tell me how I could have managed such a feat?”
The doctor had explained that such belief in the hymen being proof of innocence was outdated, and it could have been ripped when I rode a horse in the royal parade the month before. Or during a swim. A run. The yoga and Pilates sessions I so enjoyed. Any physical activity. It had been mortifying to have such a private part of my body discussed in such a way in front of me.
“But there is still some hymen left?” my father had asked the doctor, as if he was making sure some gold was in the vault after a bank heist.
“Yes. Some remains.”
My father had ordered that my physical activity be reduced then. I’d stared at him, knowing I’d go insane without my daily exercise. We’d argued, and I’d lost the argument, of course. I had been allowed to substitute those activities with others. I’d been allowed to be in the kitchen with our chef, who’d patiently taught me some culinary skills. I’d even served my mother one of the crepes I’d made, to both her and my delight.
I also picked up a camera and asked for a tutor to help me learn the settings. My father was happy to provide that for me. “Anything to preserve your reputation.”
It had been infuriating and degrading to have my value reduced to a miniscule piece of tissue. There had been times when I wanted to grab some object and stab it between my legs, rid myself of the last bit of meaningless virtue.
I didn’t.
And I didn’t know why.
That wasn’t true. I did know why. Because deep inside me, I wanted the romance. I wanted to be Nellie. I wanted to have that first invasion into my body be with a man.
With Xander, my mind whispered.
Sighing, I stood from the water. I couldn’t use Xander like that. As a means to an end.
Could I?
Even if he was using me too?
My lids stuck to my dry eyes as I blinked. I was so tired. I needed to stop thinking and just go to bed. Get some sleep so these crazy thoughts would leave my mind.
I’d only known the man a few hours, and I was already thinking of being in his bed. Which was crazy. First, because I normally didn’t think those kinds of thoughts. And second, the poor man had enough on his plate with two children. I needed to stop this path of thinking. I would care for his children, nothing else. Then I would leave their lives as soon as I could and never look back.
After using the spray nozzle to rinse the soap off, I picked up a towel. It was fluffy and soft, reminding me of home.
My heart squeezed.
Was Mama alright? Had my father and the prince bought the lie? Did they believe me dead? Were they currently planning my funeral?
The questions churned inside me, driving me insane.
To distract myself, I slathered my skin with the sweet-smelling lotion Lydia purchased, then brushed my teeth while the lotion dried before pulling the soft material of Xander’s t-shirt over my head. I studied my reflection in the mirror as I combed the tangles from my hair. Without the glasses and with my hair wet and swept away from my face, I looked more like Madeleina Birgitta right now than was comfortable.
I needed to remember that. I needed to make sure my bangs were down and glasses were on, at least for the next several months. Which reminded me. I’d left them in the laundry room.
Carefully opening the door, I smoothed the t-shirt down my thighs and moved quietly down the hallway toward the kitchen, but as I got closer, I heard a sound. No, it was someone talking. Listening harder, I realized it was the drone of a television.
Following the sound, I peeked around the corner to the family room, and there, I found Xander sprawled out in a chair, fast asleep.
I smiled. His head was thrown back and soft snores came from his mouth.
He really was quite handsome, and each time I saw him, I was surprised by how big he was. Even now, he seemed to pour out of the chair, legs spread apart, arms draped over the sides. Standing, he towered over me by over a foot, even though it didn’t take much to be taller than my five-two frame.
I examined him more closely. In sleep, the hard lines of his face were relaxed, and he might even have looked boyish if not for the full beard. My eyes traveled down. Spread out as he was caused the buttons of his shirt to pull, exposing small dots of tanned fleshed beneath. Lower. The swell in his pants drew my attention and made my insides do funny things. I wondered—
“In other news, Princess Madeleina Birgitta…”
I whipped my head toward the television, barely able to contain the gasp of surprise at hearing my name. Turning slowly, I crept past Xander to get closer to the enormous screen. My picture — it caused my heart to pick up speed. It was me, at my engagement announcement, looking pale beside Prince Vitalievich.
Listening closely, I was relieved when the news anchors mostly speculated. At this time, I was only “feared” dead. There were pictures of the palace and the bundles of flowers left at the gate. It touched my heart even as I was stabbed with guilt for the lie and unnecessary pain I’d caused the people of Aldcliff.
And even that was a surprise. In the deepest part of my heart, I didn’t think anyone would miss me. Not really. But on the television, people were crying, lighting candles…
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I jumped when the screen cut to a close-up of Prince Vitalievich’s face. His dark eyes nearly pierced through me as he spoke in halting English into the camera.
“I refuse to believe Madeleina is dead,” he said, his nostrils flaring in rage. “Until I’m shown evidence of her body, I will hunt for her.” He leaned closer to the camera. “I will hunt for you, Madeleina. And I will find you, I promise you that.”
Air whistled in and out of my lungs, fear clutching my chest as the news anchors looked sadly into the camera, commenting on how much the prince must have loved me to be so unwilling to accept my obvious fate.
Another man appeared on the screen, and I inhaled sharply as a reporter asked him a question. It was the man who’d saved me. Beneath his image read: Theo Bernard. He was a captain in the Groupe d’Intervention de la Gendarmerie Nationale, a special force of the police.
Reaching out to touch the screen, I whispered, “Thank you,” as he spoke of my “death.” How they would continue to troll the waters for another twenty-four hours, but how, at this time, “We have little hope of finding the princess alive.”
I relaxed only a little when images of my mother and father appeared. Mama looked pale and grief-stricken as Papa led her into the Notre-Dame Cathedral. I looked closer. Papa… did he look grief-stricken too?
I stared until they disappeared, hoping for another glimpse. Then, I sighed. She was alive, free and unharmed. That was the most important thing. I’d examine my feelings regarding my father’s reaction another time.
Please let her remain safe, I prayed.
The newscast cut to a commercial, and it took a good minute before I felt steady enough to rise to my feet. Sneaking by Xander, I crept to the laundry room and took out the wet clothes and tossed them in the dryer before spending an embarrassingly long time trying to determine how to work the thing. When it finally began to work, I picked up the glasses and stuck them on my face.
In the large scheme of things, I wasn’t doing so bad.
Yes, I lost my duffle bag and the money that would have made my escape easier. But I’d lost it by saving a child. A fair exchange, in my opinion.
But there was so much more than that. I’d been brave enough to go into that water. I’d been brave enough to change my appearance and leave my family for an unknown destination all on my own. I’d learned to start a washing machine and a dryer. That meant I’d learn other things.
Feeling better about myself, I tiptoed back to the family room and studied Xander again. He was still making a soft snoring sound that made me smile. But I worried about his neck, and the odd angle in which it was resting on the cushion. I really should wake him up, urge him to go to his bed before the muscles began to ache.
I placed my hand on his shoulder and shook. “Xander.” When he didn’t move, I did it again, only harder this time.
Quick as a snake, his hand encircled my wrist. I cried out as he sat up and then was on his feet in an instant, towering over me.
He blinked, his vision clearing, and his eyes widened as he realized how tightly he was holding me. “I’m sorry.” But instead of letting me go, he pulled me closer, and once again, I found myself enveloped in his warmth.
Even with the fright I’d just experienced, I was safe there, his hands running up and down my back, his words a soothing balm. “I’m sorry. I was dreaming. I’m so very sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
Pressed so tightly against him, I found myself soothing him in return, my hands running up and down his back as I murmured, “It’s okay. I’m fine. I promise.”
How long we stood there like that, I didn’t know. And as tired as I was, I could have stood there for hours more.
His hand moved up to my hair and wrapped around the damp strands. He gently pulled until I looked up at him. I didn’t complain when he pulled my glasses off and placed them on the table beside us.
“Where did you come from, Madalyn? The stars? Another planet? A faraway universe?”
Almost.
Smiling up at him, I did what I’d been longing to do. I lifted my hand until my fingers stroked through his beard. When he turned his head until his lips brushed against my palm, I felt it all the way to my toes.
“Heaven,” I said, and maybe that wasn’t a total lie. After all, I’d died and been reborn less than twenty-four hours ago.
“Then you are my angel, sent to me. To us.” He lowered his head until his face was only inches from mine. “For some reason, I think that’s true.”
He was so beautiful. Kind. His dark eyes warm as they gazed into mine. My fingers curled into his shirt, and I lifted up onto my toes before doing something I’d never done before.
I kissed a man.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Xander
Her lips were as soft as I’d imagined they’d be.
Her tongue sweet as I swept mine into her mouth when she opened for me.
The little mewling sound that vibrated from her throat was the sexiest sound I’d ever heard.
Her hair was damp as I ran my fingers through the long strands, then down her spine, until I gripped that amazing ass in my hands. I pulled her against me tighter, needing her closeness more than I’d ever needed anything before.
Sinking back into the chair, I took her with me, moving her legs until she straddled my lap. I smiled against her lips as she moaned when her sex pressed against mine.
It was my turn to moan when she pulled back, her hands on my chest. Her eyes explored my face, and for a moment, I thought her expression would twist into regret and she would leave. Instead, there was a look of wonder in her eyes before she leaned in again. This time, it was her tongue that explored, and I gladly let it.
Her thighs were soft under my hands. I ran my fingers over her hips, moving under her shirt and up her back. She was completely naked beneath the shirt, giving my fingers plenty to touch.
And I wanted to touch her everywhere. And I wanted to take my time.
She pulled back again, and I kissed her jaw, then her ear when she turned her head. Sliding my tongue down her neck, I kissed the rapid pulse that fluttered under my lips then shifted the shirt aside until I traced her collarbone and scraped my teeth against her shoulder.
“Jacob…” she whispered.
Jacob? Well, shit.
I opened my eyes and dropped my head back on the chair’s cushion, completely deflated. “Um, no. I’m—”
“Xander, I know.” Her hands moved through my beard, and she smiled softly down at me. “But you remind me of Jacob from a book I once read.”
I examined her face, the guilelessness of her eyes. As far as I could tell, she was telling the truth. Or…
Anger hit me in the gut. Or maybe this Jacob was why she ran from France with so little. Why she flinched away from my raised hand.
Circling her wrists with my hands, I brought them down to rest on my chest. “Did Jacob hurt you?”
She frowned, then understanding dawned. “No. I’m serious. Jacob and Nellie are the hero and heroine of a romance novel I’ve read many times. I’ve always wondered if there could be a man like him.”
I relaxed a little. “Tall, dark, and handsome?” I wiggled my eyebrows and she laughed.
“Yes, except the man on the cover of the novel had long, blond hair that flowed down over his shoulders.”
I rolled my eyes. “Fabio?”
An eyebrow arched. “Fabi-who?”
She was such a contradiction. Here she was, practically naked, her hot as damn hell sex pressed into my painfully hard erection. She’d kissed me first with a hunger that was so sensual… yet she seemed so very innocent.
“Fabio. A model who was on many romance novels.”
Madalyn shifted, her pussy pressing harder on my cock, making me groan.
Frowning, she pulled one of her arms down. I let her wrist go and her fingers moved up to my beard again. “Am I hurting you?”
She probably weighed a hundred pounds soaking wet. I chuckled. “
Not in the way you’re thinking.”
Still frowning, she shifted her weight again, and I lifted my hips, grinding against her. It was her turn to moan. “Oh, I see.”
I ran my hands up her arms, her neck, until they cupped her face. “Tell me more about this Jacob.”
She blushed, and I swept a thumb over her pink cheek. “Well, he’s a captain of a ship, and Nellie was being forced into a marriage with a horrible man, Prince… I mean, Count Baltimore.” To my surprise, her nose pinkened, and tears sprang to her eyes. She blinked them back. “She found a little boat and ran away. Only the boat began taking on water.”
“And Jacob saved her?”
“Yes. Just as she thought all was lost, he came sailing along. He jumped in the water and carried her up the ladder.”
“Very fortunate timing,” I quipped, but she didn’t smile at that.
She nodded solemnly, her fingers still stroking my beard. “Yes. Very fortunate.” Her nose pinkened again. “Thank you for saving me. I thought all hope was lost too.”
I pulled her down until her nose touched the tip of mine. “You saved me first,” I whispered. “You saved Kenzie, and I’ll never be able to do enough to repay you for that.”
She closed the gap between us, her lips pressing against mine again. For someone so small, she completely consumed me, and oddly, I didn’t mind.
I was used to taking control in every situation. When I fucked, it was usually fast and furious, gentleness left out of the equation. The women never seemed to mind because I never left them unsatisfied. I wasn’t a selfish lover, nor did I have a desire to linger too long.
But now… something in Madalyn brought out the gentle nature I’d only ever shown to my children. But it wasn’t because she seemed delicate. She wasn’t. Small, yes, but also brave and strong. The combination of traits made me want to cherish her. Honor her. Revere her.
Lose myself in her.
I wanted to escape in her.
For some reason, I knew only this woman could give me salvation.
