CHAPTER TWELVE
Nikolai
FOR HOW LONG has my soul been trapped in a vise of loneliness? For years I have passed through countless nights as restless and insatiable as a vampire. Instead of feeding on mortal blood, I devoured what distraction and comfort was available in the form of sexual release—the more depraved, the better.
I take and take and take with a relentlessness matched only by my many lovers who are eager to use me in turn for the proximity to limitless power and wealth.
But tonight? All I want is to give. Kate Winter shall experience nothing less than absolute, exquisite pleasure.
She is stretched above me. My hands roam the soft swells of her body, the dip of her small hourglass waist. Her loose curls tumble over my face, forming a curtain of fire. Again I am stricken by the paradox—Miss Winter, whose hair burns brighter than the sun, whose undeniable beauty burns my heart.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” she whispers, and as her lips part, I catch a glimpse of her teeth, her tongue. Oh yes, that pink clever tongue, which swirled around my cock until I nearly forgot my birthright. And that was in a hurried riverside tryst. Tonight the hours spread before us, and I intend to put each one to good use.
“A good idea?” I give my head a single shake. “No, Pet. It is the best idea.”
A hitched breath escapes her perfect lips as I cradle her face in my hands. My mouth finds hers, and our groans collide. I place my palms over her breasts again, and her heart careens against my hand. My thumbs circle her nipples before teasing them with a flick. She gasps in appreciation, sinking her nails deep into my biceps. I coax her forward.
Her breasts tumble into my face. I suck one gorgeous nipple into my mouth, then the other, feasting as if she is languorously feeding me champagne grapes. One small press of my teeth against her sensitive flesh, a teasing nip, and she arches, her pelvis rocking over mine.
I snarl from need mixed with acute frustration. Tonight I had planned to take it slow, savor every last inch of her body, worship her skin with my tongue. But animal that I am, lust consumes me, and a deeper feeling, an urgency comes over me to be home, as if her body is the safe harbor in the violent black storms that have rocked my world for so long. Turbulence has since become my new normal.
“My turn,” she whispers, moving over me, traveling the ridges of my flexed abdomen with her pouty lips. Then lower, until she reaches my belt buckle, unhooks it, and with a pop of a button and the grind of a zipper, my entire proud length is revealed.
She takes me by the root and swirls her tongue around the end. “Mmm,” she murmurs. “So good.”
I prop myself up on my elbows, letting her take me for a few wet strokes. “Fuck,” I groan.
“You like that?” she asks in a flirtatious tone, before adding, “Your Majesty.”
Naughty minx.
“Hell yes, I do, Pet. And you know what I’ll like even more?”
She arches a brow in question.
“Tasting you at the same time.” I reach down and with one deft motion flip her around so her pert ass is in my face. “Spread those thighs for me,” I growl, slapping one cheek, and she moans loudly, parting her legs wide enough to let me see the sheen on her intimate flesh.
“You are so goddamn gorgeous,” I groan and slam her against me. With both hands I give her hips a firm rock, encouraging her to fuck my face, seizing her pleasure as she works over my cock, taking every inch that I have to give.
I flex my tongue over her swollen folds, making sure her clit is well-attended, and when her breath grows ragged, I press harder, giving her hearty licks, writing my name on the soaked, silky skin, marking my territory with flourishing circles and swirls, an intimate calligraphy.
As she falls apart, I plunge my tongue deep inside her tight hole, ravage her with smooth strokes, hinting at the delirious euphoria that is about to be hers.
“Nikolai, oh, God, Nikolai,” she gasps, rising up to sit on the back of her heels, spastically jerking then grinding over me in a slow, rhythmic, figure-eight fashion. “Oh God! Your Highness!” She gasps. “Fuck me harder!”
I could come this very second. Sweet, sweet Kate has one filthy mouth. And I obediently comply. The bed shakes. Someday I’ll control this entire land, but right now this firecracker is begging to be ruled. Before I take what is mine, I plunge my full face against her pretty pink pussy.
Tonight is about the journey, not the destination. I lick and fuck her until she is dripping and on all fours, hot, tangy juices running down my chin. Two orgasms. Three. Fuck. I lose count of how many I give her. But now my cock is so thick, the need so intense, that I need to join her in this mad passion. Ours won’t be a mindless rutting. A fleeting pleasure.
I freeze as the realization takes hold.
There is a chance that entering her will tear asunder the very fiber of my soul.
Kate
I don’t know what’s come over me. I’ve never spoken like that. Not to Jean-Luc. Not to anyone. But this man—this man turns me into my basest self. A woman in need who will do or say whatever it takes to satisfy the hunger. And I hunger for Nikolai Lorentz, with everything that I am.
He lifts his head from between my legs, his dark hair a beautiful mess of ravaged waves.
“I need you,” he says, his voice strained. “Fuck, Kate. I need you.”
There is something akin to pain in his words, an ache I’m not expecting, and the animal in me gives way to something else entirely so that all I can do is nod.
He stands from the bed, and despite how hard I already came, I need him inside me. I need him, too.
How can any good come of feeling like this?
He disappears into the bathroom, and I hear the faucet run. When I can’t stand not knowing how long it will be until he returns, I follow him in there, not caring that he knows how desperate I am to keep him close.
His head dips toward the sink as he splashes water over his face again and again. I rest my palm on his back, and he shudders.
“Nikolai,” I say softly.
He straightens enough for me to see his beautiful face in the mirror.
“I thought I could clear my thoughts. I thought I could cleanse away this feeling.” He shakes his head. “But I need you,” he says again to our mirrored selves. “I’m not supposed to need anyone.”
I see the foil packet on the counter, grab it and tear it open.
“Look at me,” I say. “No hiding behind a reflection.”
The muscles in his shoulders and back flex as he moves, and when our eyes meet, I don’t hesitate as I roll the condom down his thick, pulsing length. He sucks in a breath.
“Remember,” I say. “No matter what sort of mask you give to the rest of the world, I see you.”
As much as this man turns me to animal, I shift to caring lover just as quickly. Because who truly takes care of a prince?
He dips his head toward mine but stops before our lips barely touch.
“You’re the only one who can.”
And then he kisses me with such tenderness I have to fight back tears. I rise to the tips of my toes, and he nudges my entrance. I grab the base of his shaft and urge him inside. His palms clamp against my thighs, and he lifts me. I wrap my legs around his waist as he sinks into my warmth, and a growl tears from his lips.
Nikolai walks with me like this until we’re back at the bed. He lays me on the elegant silk sheet and climbs over me, burying himself as deep as he can go.
I cry out. Not from pleasure or pain but from the undeniable ache of both. The walls around my heart crumble to dust, letting my prince inside.
My prince.
“My prince.” This time I say it aloud as he slides out and back in again—slow, controlled, deliberate. He claims me with each thrust. Heart and soul.
My prince.
My prince.
My prince.
His lips are strong and fierce against mine. Each sweep of his tongue is a taste sweeter than any confection and richer than the royal coffers.
The pressure builds, and his momentum picks up. My muscles throb around him as I feel him pulse inside me. So close. He’s so close. But I know he’s waiting for me.
And because he knows me like no man ever has, he knows what is necessary to send me over the edge.
He slips a hand between us, at the place where two bodies become one, and presses his thumb to my swollen clit. I cry out again and again and again.
He roars as he tumbles off the cliff with me, shuddering above me until we both shatter into a million pieces.
He opens his eyes and traps me in his steel gaze.
“My queen,” he says before collapsing beside me.
I stroke his sweat-dampened hair as he peppers my shoulder with kisses so achingly tender. I try not to take his words to heart. What we have is only temporary, until I find him a proper bride.
He combs my hair out of my face, his fingers grazing my chin. “My beautiful, fiery winter queen,” he says, and I start to wish those words to be truth, though I know full well they never could be. Even if he would marry, a commoner like me could never be in the running.
“Your what?” I hear, and gasp when I see a figure looming over us where we lie.
Nikolai turns his head lazily toward our intruder.
“Fucking hell, Christian,” he says with nothing more than mild annoyance in his words. “How in God’s name did you get in here? And do you ever bloody knock?”
The man steps closer, a muscle ticking in his chiseled jaw. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t lay you out like the bloody prick you are. Royal law or not, you know I can fucking do it, and it looks like your shadow isn’t here to stop me.”
I suck in a breath. Am I about to witness a royal brawl? Or worse—get caught in the middle of it? Regardless of my ability to do so or not, a fierce urge to protect my prince takes hold.
“Who are you?” I ask, but the man ignores me, his gaze still fixed on His Royal Highness.
Nikolai sits up, not at all concerned that he’s conducting this conversation completely naked. In fact, he uses his other hand to free his princely cock from its condom.
“Come now, Christian. Answer the lady’s question as you know I’m too bored to keep answering yours.”
The man clenches his teeth. “Lady?” he says. “I’ll do no such thing. But you can bloody tell me why you called this commoner queen.”
Nikolai glances back at me and winks, and with that tiny gesture the intimacy of our connection falls away.
He laughs. “If you’d been given the royal treatment like I had, you’d bow to the woman who performed such a deed and call her your sovereign, as well.”
I know this act. Something about this man—this Christian—instills a quiet fear in the prince, one that causes him to protect our connection. To protect me.
“I’m hungry, Your Highness. Can I fix you a snack?”
I slide off the edge of the bed, taking the sheet with me as a robe as I brush past our visitor.
“That would be lovely, Pet.”
I grin at the term of endearment as I make my way to the kitchen. Only when I’m out of the room do the pieces start to click in place.
I know that man. Christian. Christian Wurtzer.
He is the Baron of Rosegate, the disputed land between Edenvale and our ancient enemies to the north, the Kingdom of Nightgardin. For now Rosegate is under King Nikolai’s protection and rule. I squeeze my eyes shut, remembering that the baron also has a supermodel sister. Her face has been splashed across the tabloids almost as much as Nikolai’s. Sometimes together. Whatever his visit entails, it cannot be good.
And despite what just occurred in Nikolai’s room before our interruption, it’s only now that I feel royally screwed.