by Maya Blake
The prospect of marriage and children had been abstract thoughts in the daily grind of her work in the palace. It was something she had hoped would happen in the future. The reality that it was happening now, unfolding right before her eyes, was almost too much to take in.
As if he knew he had her on the ropes, that she was reeling from everything he had laid out at her feet, he leaned forwards until his mouth was a scant inch from hers. ‘Do you agree?’ he breathed.
Marriage. Children. Everything the foolish sixteen-year-old in her had dared to dream about as she’d thumbed through the glossy pages of the royal books in the library. Those daydreams that had followed her into her sleep now wormed their way through the dazed anxiety pressing down on her.
Zufar had spoken no words of love—nor had she expected him to. But looking into the hard contours of his face, she doubted they would be forthcoming in the future. When it came right down to it, they were strangers to one another, thrown together by harsh circumstance.
Still, she couldn’t dismiss that image of her sixteen-year-old self, staring after a much younger Zufar as he strode commandingly through the palace.
He’d led a life of integrity, loyalty, absolute dedication to his people; his crown. What better characteristics to look for in a future partner than those?
The notion that she was talking herself into this struck her hard.
She attempted to move, to give herself breathing room.
He stopped her retreat by slipping his hand to her nape, just as he had on the balcony earlier. Eyes sharp with intent gazed deeper into hers. ‘You want this,’ he murmured. ‘Think about all you stand to gain, all the children you can help. Say yes, Niesha,’ he pressed deeply. Hypnotically.
Had she yearned to retreat to a life of drudgery only an hour ago? Did she really want to scuttle away to her lonely bedsit and scrimp and save for years until she could make something more of her life?
She knew without a doubt that she would kick herself from here to eternity if she refused to take the chance being offered to her on a silver platter.
His lips moved tantalisingly close, eliciting a deep craving that scandalised her. She wanted to kiss him again, she realised shockingly. Wanted the chance beyond today, beyond tomorrow, as many days as she would be granted.
With Zufar al Khalia, there would never be any doubt that her children would be nobodies like her. They would be princes and princesses, future kings or queens with centuries of history and pedigree at their fingertips. She could set a true path for her children. Perhaps even find an identity for herself that she’d been denied. Maybe that was a little bit wrong. But in that moment, it was a decision Niesha couldn’t walk away from.
Her hands twisted in her lap. In the next moment, he grasped them with his free hand. He was taking control of her life, of her whole being, and she didn’t even care. Her gaze dropped to the mouth she wanted to kiss so badly, before rising to meet his once again.
And then she breathed the word that seared into her heart. ‘Yes.’
For endless heartbeats, he didn’t move. Then, without granting her the kiss that she craved, he rose, grasped her elbow and pulled her up with him.
‘You have made a wise decision,’ he intoned.
‘Have I, Your Highness?’ she responded dazedly.
Again the corner of his mouth lifted in a barely there smile. ‘You really need to stop calling me that.’
A shaky breath moved her. Then her breath stilled completely as he cupped her face in his large, warm hands. ‘After all, you can hardly call me Your Highness when I am deep inside you,’ he said in a low, thick voice.
‘I...?’ She stopped as heat flamed her face.
‘Zufar,’ he urged. ‘That is my name. Use it.’ His thumb caressed her jaw, rendering her speechless.
Numbly, she shook her head.
‘Never fear, I will have you screaming it by the time the night is over,’ he vowed deeply.
He dropped his hand and captured one wrist. The next moment he was pulling her towards the door.
‘Where are you taking me?’ she blurted.
‘It’s our wedding night, little one,’ he said without breaking stride. ‘Royal tradition is no different from any other. We will consummate our marriage this night. After all, if five years is all we have, then you will need to bear my children sooner rather than later, don’t you think?’
The look he threw over his shoulder was filled with rock-hard purpose. There was lust in there, sure—no matter how discreet he’d been, Zufar’s liaisons with beautiful women were a known fact—but it was a contained lust, one he seemed determined to keep under lock and key.
As he’d said, tonight was their wedding night. And Zufar fully intended to carry out his duty in the bedroom.
Immediately.
Heart in her throat, she stumbled after him down an endless corridor into his private bedchamber and towards the vast and solid four-poster bed that would be the venue for their wedding night.
The place where she would lose her virginity to the King of Khalia before the night was out.
CHAPTER FIVE
NIESHA BARELY ACKNOWLEDGED the magnificently appointed private suite she’d been so in awe of the handful of times she’d visited the King’s bedroom as a chambermaid.
Her every sense was focused on the searing clasp of his fingers against hers. Their palms were glued together, the heat from his branding her, imprinting on her skin the same way the royal crest was embossed on the flags that fluttered along the driveway leading to the palace.
Her heart hammered loud enough to drown out any other sound in her ears, so much so that she was terrified she would hyperventilate if she didn’t find a way to calm down. But how could she? How could she remain serene in the face of this earth-shaking set of events unfolding in her life?
This morning she’d woken up believing her day would be ordinary—save for the momentous event of the royal wedding, of course—but here she was on the verge of giving her virginity to the King.
Did she have to tell him? Would he know? What was the etiquette? The flurry of questions reeled through her mind, adding to the turmoil seething inside her.
As if he sensed her unsettling thoughts, Zufar stopped abruptly. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘I... This is going too fast,’ she answered truthfully.
She expected another one of his thunderous frowns, but was surprised when he studied her for a moment and then nodded. Without releasing her, he raised his other hand and gently brushed his fingers down her pale cheek. ‘Do not fear, little one, I will make this memorable for you. We will endeavour to go as slow as you wish.’
A swell of relief bloomed through her apprehension. In the next moment, it all evaporated when he cleanly swept her off her feet.
‘What are you doing?’ she squeaked.
‘I believe this is the tradition?’ he replied.
He wasn’t moving. He stared down steadily, waiting for an answer. Only then did Niesha realise that they were poised outside the doors to his inner bedchamber. Beyond that, the immense emperor-sized bed waited, covered with the exquisite gold and blue coverlet she herself had laid on it only a few days ago. The insane, whirlwind journey from then to now seemed like a hallucination.
A quick swallow later, she redirected her gaze to him. ‘If you believe in that sort of thing, I guess,’ she murmured.
One eyebrow slowly lifted. ‘Do you not believe, Niesha?’
It wasn’t the first time he’d said her name, but this time the effect of the deep baritone curling around her given name sent tiny bursts of fireworks from deep in her belly, radiating outwards. She watched him track her blush, a small smile curving his lips, drawing her eyes to the sensual outline of his masculine mouth.
‘I believe I have my answer,’ he said.
With that, he stepped over t
he threshold and calmly walked her over to the bed.
Slowly he set her down on her feet, his hands trailing her upper arms to settle on her shoulders. Then his gaze raked her from head to toe, lingering at her breasts and her hips in a very frank, masculine appraisal that sent a flare of awareness over her skin.
Her nipples began to pebble, her breasts growing sensitive as he lifted eyes turned molten gold to her face.
‘Beautiful,’ he pronounced deeply.
No one had ever called her that. Not even close. She shook her head. ‘It’s not me. It’s the dress and...the make-up.’
‘It is also the woman wearing those things,’ he declared haughtily.
Recalling that he’d been responsible for the gown she was wearing, she looked down at herself. ‘Thank you for this. You didn’t have to but—’
He cut her off with a shake of his head. ‘You were not given a choice in your wedding gown. The situation needed to be remedied for what followed. I couldn’t be so distasteful to ask you to wear another woman’s clothes on your wedding night.’
A knot she hadn’t even been aware of eased inside her. Consideration where there needn’t have been touched a place inside her that sent prickles to the back of her eyes. ‘Thank you,’ she said again.
‘You’re welcome, but I’m afraid it’s time for the dress to come off.’
Just like that the atmosphere shifted again. The purposeful heat gathering in his eyes sent similar flames surging through her body. His hands slowly drifted up her shoulders to the pulse fluttering in her neck. There he paused, his fingers lazily caressing her skin until a helpless moan drifted from her throat.
‘Do you like that?’ he demanded, his gaze a little too incisive, as if he was intent on learning her body language.
Molten heat flashed through her. Her tongue darted out to lick dry lips as she contemplated her answer. Would he find her daring if she admitted that she liked his touch? Did she even need to answer? Surely he could see for himself?
‘This is part of the “getting to know one another” process, Niesha. There’s no need to be shy. I intend to learn your body, the same way I wish you to learn mine.’ His elegant fingers caressed again, slightly more insistent, his touch leaving trails of heat on her skin. ‘Do you like this?’ he demanded again, his imperious voice setting off deep tremors inside her.
‘Yes,’ she moaned.
‘Good.’ The satisfied sound rumbled from his throat. Then, with both thumbs resting beneath her chin, he tilted her head up, exposing her face to the golden fire of his gaze. ‘I wish to taste your lips again,’ he stated.
Before she could stop herself, Niesha swayed towards him. A deeper satisfaction twisted his lips before his face grew taut with a captivating look from which she could not look away.
With a rough sound under his breath, he lowered his head and sealed his mouth to hers. She had no prior experience save for their previous kiss, but even Niesha knew this one was different.
For a start, it seared her to the soul. A deeply carnal, deeply intoxicating experience, it was a statement of subjugation over her that swiftly stripped her of the ability to think.
Her every sense focused on the dark magic being visited upon her, a magic she never wanted to end. The bold probe of his tongue between her lips commanded her to open up for him. With a sigh of need, she parted her lips and experienced an even greater depth of sensation as his tongue brushed hers.
Bold. Fiery. Caught in the grip of fever she’d never imagined possible with a mere kiss, she couldn’t stop herself from clinging to his waist as the ground moved beneath her feet. Hungry for more, she parted her lips wider, and moaned low and deep as he explored her with brazen thoroughness. Wave after wave of sensation swept through her, her knees growing weaker with each passing second.
At some point her eyes had drifted shut as she succumbed to the power of touch and scent. She heard his breathing grow heavy to match hers, the hands resting at her throat drifting down her back to cup her buttocks before pulling her closer into his body. No man had ever touched her so boldly. No man had ever done even a fraction of what Zufar was doing to her. It was intoxicating beyond belief.
With another helpless moan, she gave into the temptation and allowed her own hands to roam his body. The silk of his tunic heated beneath her fingers as she slowly circled his waist and tentatively explored his back. Hard muscles flexed beneath her touch, his body tensing and relaxing as she hesitantly caressed him. All sense of time faded away, the only reality in her world the utterly mind-bending sensations carrying her away to an unknown destination.
A harsh hiss issued from his lips. She blinked, then realised her nails were digging into his shoulders. At some point, his fingers had buried in her hair and he used the gentle grip to notch back her head so he could gaze down into her face.
‘Do I have a little hellcat on my hands?’ he queried lazily.
But there was nothing lazy in his ferocious gaze. It was determined and powerful and intent on conquering.
And she wanted to be conquered. So much.
Her gaze dropped to his lips, eager and unashamed for another taste of his superb kiss.
At her moan, his eyes glittered with an indecipherable edge that escalated her heartbeat. ‘You look at me with such unfettered need,’ he said. ‘It is enough to lead a lesser man into dangerous waters.’
‘But not you,’ she observed huskily.
Because he was above the weaknesses that plagued mere mortals. Even now, he stood tall and proud and domineering, statue-like evidence that he was extraordinary in every way imaginable. And so very confident in the bold manhood that branded her belly through their clothes.
Maybe it was her imagination, and she certainly had no comparison, but the imprint of his girth was substantial enough to set off a different set of alarm bells through her system.
But alongside it, there was also a thrill, sinful and delicious, temptation at its worst. Between her thighs, liquid heat threatened to melt her into a puddle, even as a terrible hunger tunnelled inside her, demanding fulfilment. She gasped as his hands slowly explored her waist, then drifted up her back once more.
Deft fingers located her zip and pulled it down with steady purpose. The sound filled the whole room a vivid manifestation of what was happening.
The noise that emerged from her this time was less of a moan and more of a whimper.
Before her nerves could eat her alive, he was wreaking havoc again, kissing one corner of her mouth before planting decadent little kisses along her cheek, her jaw and then down her neck to the point where it met her shoulder. Merciless teeth nipped at her skin, dragging a shiver that drew a deep grunt of satisfaction from him.
‘You are so responsive. I look forwards to drawing even more reactions from this body.’
The soft breeze that whispered over her skin was her first indication that her dress was undone. Still kissing her neck, he slowly drew the emerald silk down her arms until her breasts were bared to his gaze.
Alarm rushed over Niesha, dampening her desire. Her arms slammed across her chest, covering her breasts as she took a hasty step back.
Zufar froze. A thunderous frown gathered on his brow. ‘Something wrong?’
She swallowed hard. ‘There is...something you should know.’
A faint wave of displeasure washed over his features. ‘Yes?’ The prompt was a tight rumble from his chest. Even as he waited for her answer, his gaze moved over her, lingering on her shoulders, the breasts she was desperately shielding from his view, down to where her dress rested low on her hips.
She would never have believed a look from a man’s eyes could evoke such cataclysmic feelings inside her. And even though Zufar seemed in complete control of his faculties, the look in his eyes rendered her mute.
But she needed to speak. She had to tell him, despite her insides shrinking
at the possibilities of what he would do if he found out that she was untouched. None of them filled her with elation.
Esteemed men like Zufar preferred women who knew how to please a man. The women he’d dated before were all experienced. Sophisticated. The history books she’d scoured in the library had even contained sections on how prospective brides were tutored in the art of pleasing their husbands. She knew nothing except what she’d read in romance books years ago. And even those had sounded unrealistic.
Dejected, Niesha lowered her gaze to his shoes. Zufar had seemed aroused by their kisses, but this was far more than mere kissing. Besides, he’d done all the work and now she was terrified he would find her severely lacking.
‘Speak,’ he commanded, the directive firm and implacable.
‘I don’t... I’m not...’
‘Niesha.’ The dangerous edge to her name sent another skitter of alarm along her nerve endings.
She raised her head, compelled by his voice. His face was a taut, unreadable mask, but she imagined she glimpsed hunger in his eyes. That bolstered her a little.
‘Tell me what worries you,’ he pressed.
‘I’m not...experienced,’ she confessed with little more than a whisper.
A wave of decipherable emotion swept across his face. Slowly his eyes narrowed. ‘I require a better definition of inexperienced,’ he replied.
‘Virgin,’ she blurted. ‘I’m a virgin. And...I don’t want to disappoint you.’
For the longest time, he stared at her, his eyes a deep bronze that saw right to her soul. When his eyes conducted a searing scrutiny from her crown to her toes, Niesha was painfully reminded that she was naked from the waist up.
‘The only way you will disappoint me is if you fail to tell me how that is possible.’
Another fierce blush swept over her skin.
A sound rumbled from him. Once again he seemed fascinated by her blush, his gaze following the tide of pink as it suffused her skin. When his gaze reached her face, he stared deep into her eyes, waiting for an answer.
