Royal Weddings

by Clare Connelly

  “That … I have so many things to say to that my brain is about to explode.”

  He arched a brow, prompting her to continue. “Firstly, how is anything that pays tribute to a time when women were shackled to a bed considered empowering? And do you actually have a harem? And as for servicing you … that’s an archaic and barbaric notion …”

  He lifting a finger to her lips, entreating her to be silent.

  “I do not have a harem.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Right. You have Leilani.”

  “I have lovers,” he said with a shrug. “Just as most men, and women, do. Stop being such a prude about this.”

  “But …”

  “You will be servicing me.” He pressed his fingers to her lips, keeping her quiet so that he could finish the thought. “But I will also be servicing you.” He dipped his head lower. “I will make you scream tonight, Evelyn, until your voice has left your body.”

  A shiver of anticipation ran down her spine.

  “This chain ties you to yourself, and yourself alone. You wear it as a reminder that you are free to leave my bed at any time. No longer shackled, but a beautiful creature tethered to free choice.”

  “Well, when you put it like that,” she said meekly, shaking her head a little.

  He lowered his head so that his lips were close enough to Evie’s she could almost feel them. “I have never taken a woman who did not wish to be with me.”

  “I’m sure,” she arched towards him a little; their lips brushed.

  “I have wanted you since we first kissed.”

  “I know.”

  “I am not a gentle lover, Evie. I do not want to hurt you. This will not work if you are going to act like a terrified schoolgirl. You must speak up if you are uncomfortable. Do not be shy.”

  “Now I’m scared,” she quipped, not entirely joking.

  “Listen to your body and tell me if you are not comfortable.”

  She nodded.

  “Are you ready?”

  “I don’t know,” she laughed unevenly. “But I know that I want you. Can we just … do this quickly?”

  He arched his brows in surprise.

  “I mean just the first time. I’ll feel better once we’ve … crossed that threshold.”

  His finger between her thighs was an unexpected invasion. She cried out as he drove into her, slicking in a circular motion, feeling her wetness and contracting muscles. “This threshold?” He murmured, holding her tight to his body as he began to rub his thumb on her clitoris and his finger across her insides. He found her most sensitive muscle and teased it mercilessly, until she was a puddle of desire in his arms.

  It took less than a minute for her to orgasm. Evie gripped his shoulders tight, as her body was racked by sensation.

  “You will be an excellent lover,” he said with a slow-spreading smile that warmed her soul. Her cheeks were bright pink and her eyes fevered.

  “You already are.”

  His laugh was warm. “Lie down.”

  She nodded. The words she knew she should utter were locked in her mouth. In the back of her mind there was the small risk that he might call the whole thing off if he knew she was completely innocent.

  “Quickly, you said?” He brought his body down on top of hers, his eyes scanning hers for confirmation.

  She nodded, biting down on her lip. “Yes.”

  His hands spread her legs wide, and he lifted them too, planting them over his shoulders so that she was completely ready to receive him. His hands gripped her lower hips, digging into her flesh as he pulled her down on the bed at the same time that he thrust forward.

  He was as hard as a rock, and his cock was big. It speared into her and she cried out in pain and shock.

  Their eyes met; his confusion was unmistakable. He swore every curse he knew, in every language he knew, and he begun to pull out. But by then the pain had subsided, and she had grown accustomed to the way her muscles were moving to accept his size and depth. She shook her head. “Please don’t stop.”

  A muscle jerked in his jaw and his expression was grim but he stilled, lingering in her sweet depths.

  His eyes bore into hers as he moved, and when she reached up to touch him he gripped her wrists and pinned her hands to her sides. With her legs over his shoulders and her hands out of action she was literally a body, powerless to do anything but receive him.

  And receive him she did. She welcomed him to her core, crying out in fevered moans as another release built inside of her. When it had brewed into a storm of terrifying degrees, he quickened his pace, and she tumbled off the edge of the abyss, deep into the well of pleasure and satisfaction.

  The pleasure was a cloud of joy, swirling around her. Never in her life had she imagined sex could be so incredibly fulfilling; so absolutely perfect.

  But he did not join her in sensual ecstasy. When he pulled out of her she saw he was still as stiff as he had been.

  “Mal …”

  He jerked as though she’d slapped him. “Do not call me this.”

  Chastened, she froze. Her body glistened with perspiration but she was ice-cold. “What shall I call you then?”

  He sent her a scathing look of impatience. “You should have told me. You … how the hell can you be a virgin?”

  “I’m not a virgin now,” she pointed out with impeccable logic.

  “You were married,” he responded, ignoring her comment.

  “Yeah? So? We never did that. Obviously.”

  “You were married and you never had sex with your husband? Suddenly I am beginning to understand why he left you.”

  Her eyes narrowed as pain chafed her insides. “So first I’m a slut, and that’s why we broke up. Now it’s because I’m frigid?”

  “You tell me?” Malakhi snapped, reaching down and pulling his robe on again.

  “I didn’t want him like that,” she said simply. For it was the truth. “I thought it would be different once he was my husband.” But by then, I’d met you, she added silently.

  “Fine. You didn’t sleep with Nick. But before him?”

  “I met him when I was young. I …” she closed her eyes. “Please stop looking at me like that.”

  “Like what?” He demanded, hands thrust on powerful hips.

  “Like there’s something wrong with me.”

  “I don’t know where to start with what’s wrong with you.” He compressed his lips as fury washed over him. “Get dressed.”

  She pushed up to sitting, a frown on her features. “You can’t be serious.”

  “What were you thinking, coming here to my bed? What did you think I would say?”

  “I don’t know,” she whispered, hating the way her voice caught on the tears that were clogging her throat.

  “Let me put it simply for you, then. I would never have touched you if I had known. I would never have suggested you join me in bed. I thought you were like me.”

  “A heartless bastard?” She asked with a scowl, but it was bravado. Inside, she was like a tiny porcelain vase being thrown hard against a wall.

  “Just … go, Evelyn.”

  “This is … I don’t …”

  “Go.” He turned his back on her and walked out of the room. She watched him go with a growing sense of panic and confusion.

  She stood gingerly. Muscles that had never been tested were throbbing now from the unusual pleasure and the intense way they’d been brought to life. She winced when she reached for her robe and tied it around her waist. It was a beautiful piece of fabric but she knew she would destroy it when she returned to her room. It, and anything else that reminded her of him and this night.

  For the briefest of moments she thought her hatred was so extreme that she could almost have contemplated returning to Australia, even knowing it might have meant that she wouldn’t see Kalem again.

  But it was a brief moment, and she discarded the thought almost instantly.

  She could never leave him.

  But nor could
she ever be in the same room as Malakhi.

  Tears were streaming down her face. She surveyed the room one last time, and she didn’t see him watching her from the balcony outside. She didn’t see the way his face contorted at the sight of her crying; she didn’t see the way he was reeling from what he’d done – what he’d taken without ceremony or respect.

  She pushed out of his room and sobbed properly, keeping her head down as she walked as fast as her sore body would allow.

  Once in the privacy of her own suite, she removed the robe and pushed it into a waste paper basket. She would never wear it again. She could never look at it.

  The same could not be said for herself. She stared at her reflection in the mirror, mocking the way she looked with animosity and disgust. Her body was not her own. It had been marked; changed. She ran her fingers over her bare womanhood, and higher, to the chain around her waist.

  A sign of empowerment? What a joke.

  She felt for the clasp but it wouldn’t open. Her fingers weren’t working properly. She swore angrily and pulled on the chain. It didn’t break.

  She pulled harder.

  And harder, and the pain biting into her flesh was excruciating but she didn’t stop pulling the chain until it had snapped in half. She added it to the waste paper basket and returned to the mirror. She had two matching, bloodied lines just above her hips.

  Good.

  Pain was good.

  Pain was a distraction and a reminder – a contradiction in terms for a situation she had no hope of comprehending.

  She pulled on a pair of underpants and a floating floor-length dress with long sleeves and a round collar.

  Had she really thought he might not notice?

  A sob tore through her again as the expression on his features slashed into her mind. He had been furious!

  She lay down on her bed and stared out the window, watching the way the stars twinkled in the sky.

  Sleep, however, was elusive.

  As she tossed and turned, the tiny thought that had lodged in her mind at the moment of rejection began to discover its roots.

  She would hate to leave Kalem, but it would surely only be her who suffered. Here in the palace he had everything he could ever want. He was only eleven months old. If she disappeared from his life, he would not look for her. He would simply accept that she was no longer there. Perhaps he would imagine her with his mummy and daddy, wherever he imagined they had gone.

  A chill danced along her spine.

  Somewhere before dawn, she stood and crept through the palace, back to Malakhi’s room.

  She didn’t bother to knock. After all, she felt they had moved beyond such courtesy. Besides, if he was sleeping, it would be better to wake him gently rather than with a firm knock on the door.

  Leilani pulled it inwards, a look of surprise on her features.

  “Oh.” Evie’s eyes narrowed. Sickness churned in her gut. “I’m sorry,” she said on autopilot. “Is Mal- Malakhi here?”

  Leilani’s smile was that of the cat who had got the cream. Evie couldn’t think about that. She couldn’t imagine him rolling straight from her to another woman, and yet obviously he had.

  “He’s showering,” Leilani purred.

  Evie shuddered. “Fine.” She bit down on her lip. “Would you pass on a message for me then?”

  The beautiful woman shrugged, showing her unconcern. “What message?”

  “Tell him I’d like to use his jet after all. I want to go home. As soon as it can be arranged.”

  Leilani was confused, that much was obvious. But she smiled and nodded. “I’ll tell him.”

  “Thanks.” Evie moved back to her room and began to pack with determination. She’d be damned if she was going to let Malakhi see how hurt she was.

  When the jet was ready, she’d go, and only in the safety of Australia would she begin to lick her wounds. And never, ever, could she let herself think of Kalem again.

  Grief was her shadow, but she cloaked herself in it willingly.

  If this was to be her lot in life then she may as well get used to it.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Her suitcase sat by the door, mocking her with every moment that passed. She held Kalem close to her chest and breathed in his sweetness. How she would miss him! And all the more for the certainty that she would fade from his memory. One day he would wake up and cease to look for her. To cease to think of her face and expect it over the edges of his cot.

  His chubby little hand lifted and curled around her hair, pulling at its dark lengths. She tilted her head, giving him greater access, not bothering to disentangle his little fingers.

  It had been a long time since she’d eaten. Her stomach made a sound of complaint and she contemplated calling for some food. But it might arrive when word of the jet did, and she didn’t want to do anything to delay her departure.

  “I’m going to miss you,” she whispered to her nephew. Desperation and grief were heavy on her chest.

  “So stay.” The dark voice from the door caught her completely by surprise. She startled visibly, her eyes flying to where Malakhi stood. A force of strength and power, framed by dark timber, his expression blank of any emotion.

  Her reaction was visceral. Her stomach twisted sharply with remembered awareness and she held Kalem closer for the comfort he offered. He was waiting for a response but it took moments for his words to puncture the fog of her brain. So stay. She shook her head. “I can’t.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest. “Of course you can.”

  She didn’t say anything. What would have been the point? Arguing with him never resulted in a win. Besides, she didn’t want to be talked around to remaining in this beautiful hell. She wanted to go home. To go as far away from him as possible.

  With a small sigh, he walked into the room and took Kalem from her arms. He held him well, though Evie wouldn’t have regarded him as a ‘natural’, exactly. He disappeared from the room and returned almost instantly, without their nephew.

  “This conversation is better had away from small ears,” he said, his tone grim.

  “He’s not even one,” she snapped. “He’s hardly going to take notes.”

  Malakhi was undeterred. “He can sense tone, can’t he?”

  “Whatever.” She stood and walked, still sore, to the other side of the room, as far from him as possible. “There is no conversation to be had between us, anyway.”

  “You will not be leaving.”

  The fire of resentment glinted in her expression. “You can’t keep me here against my will.”

  “Of course I can,” he said with a shake of his head. “But I don’t need to.”

  She felt him behind her and shivered. His hands on her shoulders were gentle as he spun her to face him. “You don’t want to leave him.” He dropped his mouth so that it was only a breath from hers. “And it isn’t necessary. Our deal stands.”

  “No,” she said sharply, shaking out of his arms. “I can’t do this. That. What we did.”

  He flinched at her certainty. Remorse was a very real tide swelling inside of him. “I was not gentle as I should have been.” He pulled her to him again and this time he dropped his lips to the sensitive flesh beneath her ear. He kissed it, his mouth so sweetly gentle, spreading fireworks through her blood. “Had I known you were innocent I would have been so much more careful with you.”

  Her breath hitched in her throat as his hands caressed her back, stroking her through the fabric of her shirt.

  “You told me you’re not a gentle lover, remember?”

  “I thought you had experience.” He shook his head. “I should have seen …”

  He was stroking her sweetly, sending goose bumps across her spine. “I didn’t want you to see,” she said simply. But she broke the mesmerizing contact, even though it felt so utterly perfect a balm to her broken heart. “I should have told you.”

  He forced himself to remain apart from her; not to rush her. “Why didn’t you?”

/>   Her laugh was a soft sound of self-derision. “I thought you might not want me anymore. Just like you said.”

  A line formed between his brows as a frown dragged his mouth downwards. “I was angry when I said that.”

  “I know that. I got it.”

  A charged silence throbbed between them. “Did I hurt you?”

  She closed her eyes as words swirled through her. What could she say to that? Physically, no. Not more than he could have helped, given their relative sizes and her inexperience. But emotionally? Her heart was bruised and battered.

  He took her silence as confirmation and a deep shame engulfed him. “Come to me.”

  She tilted her head, her breath snatched in her throat.

  “Now.” It was a command but he held a hand out to her, encouraging her softly to join him.

  She turned on the spot but didn’t move. “Why?”

  Even in that situation he hated being questioned. With a small noise from deep in his throat he closed the distance and wrapped his arms around her. “Because I want to show you what it should have been like. If I had known I was to be the first man to possess you.”

  It was so like him to know just what to say to arrest her plans. She shook her head but her heart was screaming at her to listen to him. “why?”

  He didn’t answer. His hands were gently removing her clothes, unbuttoning the shirt and sliding it reverently from her flesh before turning his attention to the floor length skirt she wore. When only her underpants remained, he lifted her easily and carried her to the bed in the middle of the room.

  Evie couldn’t have said how she felt. Part-desire, part-fear, part-sadness, part-joy, she was a jumble of emotions. But she knew she wanted him, and that need overrode every other feeling.

  He crossed to the door and clicked the lock before removing his own clothes swiftly, draping them across the back of a chair. He was already aroused, and her cheeks flushed bright pink at the sight of him.

  When he hovered over her, his fingers traced the pink lines on either side of her hips. “What is this?”

  Her eyes held defiance. “I didn’t like your chain of empowerment.”