by Nikki Steele
“So what happened,” I asked, making a mental note to google the pig incident later. “Did your mother go to war?”
Xander shook his head. “I’ll be the first to say that she’s a hard woman. But I’ve got to give it to her, she’s smart, too. Or military arm is very small—we would have been crushed. Mother negotiated, and they came to an agreement.”
He grew uncomfortable. “But enough about my mother—we’re not really getting along at the moment.”
Something in his voice made me look him in the eyes. “Does she know about me?”
He hesitated. “Like I said, things back at home are complicated. Events are in motion that even I can’t avoid. My mother knows there is someone here. She has also told me in no uncertain terms what she thinks about that.”
He forced a grin. “Let’s not talk any more about wars or my mother—an interchangeable subject, I can assure you. I didn’t bring you here to bore the pants off you.” He paused, considering his statement. “Then again…”
I slapped him lightly, enjoying the twinkle in his eye. “That, sir, is not allowed. Remember?”
“I do remember, to my great regret every time I look at you. All I can say is that you’re lucky Baxter is here to keep me on the straight and narrow.”
At the sound of his name the little dog, who had wandered off to start digging energetically, popped his head up. He looked at us quizzically, then fished an object from the bottom of his hole, trotting it toward us proudly. A pretty pebble the size of golf ball dropped at Xander’s feet.
Xander picked it up, patting the little dog’s head with a sigh. “Yes, lucky indeed. Lucky he’s so charming.”
I rolled my eyes. “You’re the one that’s going, remember?” I looked at my puppy. “Baxter is going to miss you, you know.”
Xander’s hand slipped into mine. “Is he the only one?”
“Maybe I’ll miss you too. Just a tiny bit.”
“Just a tiny bit!” said Xander, scandalized. “Just a tiny bit?” He rolled into me, pushing me down on the rug. “That, madam, is unacceptable!”
Xander’s face above mine produced an instant warmth between my legs. “What are you going to do about it?” I asked, voice thick.
He shook his head. “If Baxter wasn’t here…”
“What? What would you do?”
He leaned down, staring deep into my eyes. “I’d make love to you,” he said simply. “Under the sky or under a roof, in a field or in a bed, it wouldn’t matter. I… think I’ve fallen for you, Kate.”
“You’re leaving tomorrow,” I whispered.
“But we have tonight.”
His head leaned in. Could I? After trying so hard, could I throw it all away and kiss him once more? I’d promised myself I wouldn’t fall for him. I’d sworn I would protect myself from his leaving.
His lips inched closer. My heart beat faster. And as it did, I realized something. I’d already fallen. Somewhere, between that first passionate night and our picnic in the park, my heart had become his.
A clarity settled over me. An acceptance of my fate. Tomorrow, what would be, would be. Nothing I could do tonight would change that. If I’d already fallen, I might as well enjoy the trip down—a damsel rescued from her own distress.
I stretched up, met his lips halfway, and kissed him.
CHAPTER SIX
We pulled into my place at a screech, the Aston Martin moving so fast Baxter’s fur was flattened as he leant out the window. He’d known just when to interrupt, hadn’t he? Nothing like a wet nose on the back of your neck to put the brakes on proceedings.
I ran for the door as Xander began to gather our bags.
“Leave it!” I called as the key went in the lock. “You need to get inside this house right now.”
The car door slammed as Xander strode quickly after me, Baxter barking in excitement at his legs, catching our urgency. I was already in the kitchen.
“Baxter? Dinner, now!” I pulled a whole roast from the fridge and dumped it in his bowl. The little dog traveled to it in stunned disbelief as I pulled Xander into the bedroom.
The door shut. I locked it, then turned to him. “Right. Now what were you saying?”
He began to unbutton his shirt as I hopped urgently from foot to foot, kicking off my shoes. “Something about… ah, getting those pants off you” he said. He pushed me against the door, shirt slipping from his muscled shoulders, kissing me.
He moved to my shirt next, kissing my neck and breasts as he worked the buttons. He fumbled with one of them, then stood back in frustration, seizing either side of the collar. A familiar look entered his eyes.
“Uh-uh. No way.” I said, reaching for his hands. “This shirt was-”
Too late, he ripped—the buttons popping from my heaving chest in a series of neat downward pings. “What was that?” he asked. His lips explored the curve of my breasts in my bra.
I arched my back as he buried his head. “Never mind.”
He came up, and I kissed him again, my hands reaching downward in search of his belt. The buckle separated easily—I thrust my hands down his front, wasting no time. “That’s what I’ve been missing.”
His eyes widened. My hand slid back out, loosening his pants, dragging them to the floor as I dropped to my knees, taking in the view. He was already hard—a beautiful, long, silky length of pure pleasure I couldn’t wait to experience again. That V on his hips was just as I’d remembered; his thighs, solid and muscled.
I grasped him, my need a palpable hunger, but he pulled me back up. “Later,” he growled. “Right now, I want you. All of you.” Then he picked me up in strong arms and carried me to my bed. He threw me down, stripping me of my jeans and damp panties.
I lifted myself to remove my bra, but he pushed me back down before I could. “Why.” He knelt above me. “Waste.” He positioned himself between my legs. “Time?” He slid deep inside.
I almost blacked out with instant pleasure. It had been so long, and I was only just now realizing how badly I’d needed this. He pulled back, his length sliding up through me, before driving back down firmly once more. I gripped his shoulders, only vaguely aware of strong muscles under my fingers, as he began repeating the motion over and over again. His eyes were urgent.
I understood that urgency. My own eyes mirrored it—a need that words couldn’t explain; a primal want that commanded both our souls. My legs rose above his hips in raw animal instinct. My back arched as I growled. I began to buck with him as the entire bed started thumping against the wall.
“Oh yes. Oh yes!” I could feel every bit of him as he dove repeatedly deep inside, spreading passion through my body with every slap of our hips. My nails dug into his shoulders. They raked down his back in long clawing scratches.
This was no gentle fire we were building. It was a flaming bonfire that had been starved of oxygen; an instant inferno now that someone had opened the door. My eyes rolled back, my moan a staccato as our hips met over and over again.
I wanted this. I needed this. And I’d needed him to want this too. We could have no more stopped the fire than it could be quenched with a single raindrop. Anything less than a climax in each other’s arms would just make more steam.
I rolled him over, hair plastered across my forehead, positioning myself on top. “My turn,” I breathed, sliding down once more upon his slick shaft, spearing myself with pleasure.
He gripped my hips as I rode him hard, a cowgirl on top of her bucking bronco. I leaned down, one hand pressing his shoulder for purchase. His eyes followed the bounce of my breasts in their lacy lingerie.
From this angle I could control the pleasure, directing it by leaning forward and back so he hit all my spots. When I moved, I could feel him just there inside. I tilted forward slightly. “Ooh.” It was so deep.
I began moving with urgency upon him, my need now absolute. I needed to own all of him—not just his shaft, but his fire too. I needed him to feel the same heat already starting to shoot through m
e in tiny tendrils threatening to grow large.
He began to groan.
“That’s it baby,” I said through gritted teeth. I needed to hold on. To wait for him.
His hips were moving under me, adding fuel to both our fires; his length inside pleasing one way, our bodies grinding outside pleasing in another. Each time my hips gyrated I could feel him inside and out. The gyrations got faster.
I couldn’t wait any longer.
I couldn’t wait any-
I stopped moving as the flames he had stoked became a firestorm, consuming my soul with a pleasure that made me cry out. My hips began to seize in paroxysms of pleasure, gripping him tight inside, shudders running up and down his length.
It was all he needed. His fingers tightened on my hips, then his head threw back and he was groaning as I felt him move inside me, our outer bodies still, but his length inside moving in hard, powerful spasms.
I collapsed against him, chest heaving, when we could both breathe once more. We lay there for what felt like hours, but could only have been minutes. Then he sat up, still inside me, causing me to kneel upon his lap. “I’ve missed you so much,” he whispered, our bodies together. “I’ve missed this so much.”
I nodded, fighting back tears. I’d missed this too. This… intimacy. It was like heaven and earth aligned whenever we were together; there was nothing in all the world that felt more right than what we were doing this very moment.
I seized his head between my hands and kissed him passionately—expressing my feelings the only way I was able. My tongue slid between his lips; urgent, needy.
His arms tightened around my back, and then he was kissing me too, coming up for air and then diving straight back in; a long, glorious thing full of tenderness and want.
His position shifted slightly between my legs. I pulled back from his lips, frowning. “Is that what I think it is?” I asked. It felt like he was growing hard inside me once more.
He grinned, cheeky. “That depends. Do you think it’s me, happy to see you?”
I began to grind slowly, marveling and enjoying the feeling of him filling inside me—physical proof of his want. It was my body doing this to him. And it felt… powerful. Exciting. I began to grind a little faster.
As he strengthened, he began to pay back the pleasure. I could feel him, moving in me, his hard length waking me from slumber to send delicious trickles of joy into my legs and belly. It felt good—luxurious in its leisureliness, delicious in its decadence.
I reached behind my back, unclipping my bra. It fell slack and I pulled it out, reveling in the feeling of flesh on flesh. This was intimate lovemaking, and soon it must get faster, but for now I was enjoying his closeness.
I struggled with the feelings it generated; as we held each other, kissing slowly, our bodies intimately intertwined. My hands ran over the hard muscles of his back, exploring. And it came to me. This was the act of making love.
The thought didn’t scare me. Instead, at last, I felt peace. Whatever the worry, I was beyond that now. Whatever the depth, I’d already plunged. I’d jumped without realizing it, and now that I’d fallen I didn’t want to climb back up. I’d been a fool to protect myself from this. No matter what happened tomorrow, this—right now, was worth it.
I kissed his neck, luxuriating in my newfound freedom as I rose up and down in his lap. And then I found my movements getting faster. This feeling was wonderful, but it also wasn’t enough. There was something else I wanted now. Something only he could give me.
Our kissing became more urgent. The tenderness in our eyes changed to something more wild. His hands went to my buttocks. He began to move me up and down. And then suddenly, like a switch had been flipped, we were animals of abandon once more, and I was bouncing up and down, head thrown back, as his hard rod filled me over and over again.
He kissed my neck, then we were on the edge of the bed, and he was standing, lifting me with powerful muscles to lean us up against the wall. I gasped in surprise and pleasure, enjoying the loss of control—the feeling that I was a doll in his arms and his to be firetrucked as hard and as fast as he could.
His mouth leaned into mine as he drove into me, forcing my breath into his each time he dropped me upon him and then lifted me back up. My legs wrapped around his hips and I squeezed, enjoying the feeling of him suddenly tight within. His eyes bulged, enjoying the change as well.
His pleasure was no longer trackable within me as pressure points and sweet spots hit. It was now a never ending glow that was shining brighter and brighter within my body.
I could feel it in my nipples, hard against his chest. I could feel it in my toes, curled at the back of his legs. I could feel it in my throat, and my arms and my legs. I could feel it in him, too, as his hard rod began that final swell which could only mean one thing.
His back arched as his whole body tensed. I felt him drive deep inside, and then begin to pulse.
It slammed me over the edge. Everything contracted as I screamed into his shoulder, the glow now a blinding white light that had overtaken all my senses. I threw my head back as we both slammed into the wall, our bodies convulsing into each other, his hard length setting me off over and over again.
My feet touched the floor with a tingle. I collapsed before him to sit against the wall, chest heaving.
“You get two minutes rest,” he breathed. “Then we start again.”
My jaw dropped as I looked at him in disbelief. “Again? Are you serious?”
He was already beginning to swell. “Of course. We need to make this a night to remember. Why waste it on sleep?”
Outside, Baxter began to bark.
CHAPTER SEVEN
I drove with Xander to his place, Baxter on my knees. The poor dog had been near overcome to see us when we emerged; the only thing preventing him from jumping on us both, his enormous big fat belly.
The Aston Martin, Xander explained, would stay in the garage until his return—unless I wanted to use it in the meantime? He held up the keys, wiggling them in front of me.
I shook my head, arms wrapped around myself. No. It would just remind me of him. “So you’re really going?”
He nodded, somber. “I am. Kate, I-”
“Don’t say it. Whatever you’re about to say, don’t say it.” It could only make this harder. It would only make me miss him more.
Last night… I’d always laughed at those spy movies where the femme fatale slept with a man and made him give away all his secrets. I hadn’t thought that could happen in real life. But last night—when I’d slept with Xander, when I’d looked in his eyes? I’d given away something too. My heart.
Xander wouldn’t know. Couldn’t know, not ever. It wasn’t his fault that I’d fallen for him. We’d both known the terms from the very beginning. This last month—we’d played a dangerous game, and it seemed I’d lost.
I was quiet during the limousine ride to the airport. I told Richards it was because I hadn’t slept well. But then, the best lies were always the ones built on truth.
* * *
We drove straight onto the tarmac, Xander’s wealth and status affording him a private runway. A Gulfstream stood waiting at one end, door already open.
I hadn’t cried. Not once this morning. Even though it was all my heart wanted to do. I wouldn’t cry. Not until he left. After that it wouldn’t matter when I stopped.
It was Richards who made the first move to say goodbye. He bent down to pat Baxter, who was sniffing the car’s wheels, then turned to me, taking off his cap. “Ma’am. It is with honesty that I can say my life is richer for having known you both. I will miss you greatly.”
I pulled him into a hug, overcome with emotion “Same here buster. And for the millionth time, it’s Kate, okay? Enough with the formalities.”
We parted, his eyes moist. “Thank you. Kate.” Then he turned, scooping Xander’s luggage to walk it quickly toward the plane.
I didn’t know why it was those words, of everything spoken today, w
hich set me over the edge. All I knew was suddenly my chest couldn’t contain my heart anymore. The sadness, irrationally, had become too much.
I burst into tears.
Xander pulled me into his embrace, holding me as I cried in deep, heartfelt sobs. When I did pull away, I noticed a silent, glistening trail down Xander’s cheeks too.
He coughed, clearing his throat briskly. “I’m going to miss Baxter, you know,” he said, looking sideways at me, then bending down to ruffle the little dog on the head.
The pup looked up at him curiously, enjoying the scratch but concerned at the tears.
I sniffed, wiping my own away. “Is he the only one you’ll miss?”
“I might miss you too. Just a tiny bit,” Xander said, repeating my line from the picnic back at me. A sad smile crossed his features, and he stood up. “I feel like I’m losing my best friend, Kate.” He looked at me desperately. “I don’t know what to do.”
I seized his hands. “Don’t go. Please.” The words slipped out before I could stop them.
He tensed, genuinely considering the suggestion. But then he sighed. “I have to. Kate, the life of a prince—it must seem fabulous. But all those people that look at me forget one thing. It is a fabulous life, but it’s not my own. My heart can’t be either. My bride is a country, my children, its people. I have to return; else I’m no prince at all.”
I nodded. “I know. I’m sorry, I know you can’t stay. I’m just being silly.”
He pulled me into his embrace once more. “Not silly. Never that. You’re the bravest, smartest, kindest, most passionate woman I’ll ever know.” He shook his head. “I wish I didn’t have to get on this plane.”
I pressed myself to him. “I know.”
His voice was angry. “No, you don’t. Finally, I’ve found someone and they’re half a world away. If I could give up my crown, I would. If I could sneak away into the night at your side, I would. If I…” his hands clenched into fists. “It doesn’t matter what I think.”
