Phillip had made small talk and smiled his official king smile and complimented more dresses than he could count. The ball had only started twenty minutes ago but he already felt like he might fall on his own ceremonial sword if he had to bow over one more lady’s hand, if that lady wasn’t Ella.

He glanced at the stairs where the ladies had been making their entrance. Empty. The last trickle of fashionably-late guests had arrived a few minutes ago and it was starting to look like she wasn’t coming. Internally, he cursed himself. It had to be his fault. He’d pushed too hard, put too much attention on her, tried to move too quickly. Maybe she had just meant she was ready for a new pair of shoes.

In the corner, the band started to warm up. Phillip tugged at his collar. If Ella didn’t get here in the next few minutes, he’d have to pick someone else for the first dance. Should he randomly choose one of the other eligible ladies? His mother, perhaps? He shot one last desperate glance at the stairs—and his heart stopped.

Ella had arrived.

She stepped onto the landing, one hand resting delicately on the railing and the other lifting her dress as she descended. She was in a silky silver gown that cascaded across her curves like liquid moonlight, and she was wearing those glittering shoes—he remembered handing one of those to her the first time they’d met. Her hair was swept half up, the rest of it tumbling across one shoulder in an even sexier version of her normal ponytail. Her gaze was steady and sweet when it landed on him, and he had to catch his breath. She looked like every good dream he’d ever had. She looked like a fairytale come to life. She looked like a queen.

She reached him, extending her hand for him to bow over. “My lady,” he murmured, and she smiled again, accepting the title. His heart pounded. This was it; she was making it official. She was willing to give up her old dreams for the chance to be his queen. No one could ever have given him a better gift.

The band slid into the first song, a royal waltz. He swept her out onto the dance floor. When they moved into the dance’s steps, he marveled at the way she felt in his arms. A few other couples—the ladies sullen, but that was no longer his problem—stepped out and followed suit, and soon they were lost in a crowd. Phillip might as well have been blind, though, for all he could see anything but Ella.

Unable to resist temptation, he slipped his hand a little lower. The next time the dance’s steps moved Ella in toward him, he whispered in her ear, “I can’t wait to get you alone.”

She shivered and her eyes lit up, just about killing him on the spot.

The band moved into another dance, and then another, but he couldn’t unglue himself from her. Whenever they’d spin past each other, she’d accidentally-on-purpose brush a little too close, and it was driving him crazy in the best possible way. But after four dances together, Ella was getting breathless from all the twirling and hopefully also from imagining all the things he was planning to do to her later, and she reluctantly stepped back.

“You should socialize with your other guests,” she said, having to lean in to be heard. The band had shifted to a more modern, upbeat song. “We wouldn’t want people to get the wrong idea.”

Phillip was pretty sure they’d all gotten exactly the right idea by this point, but the dance floor was getting rather crowded, and he could use some fresh air. He spotted the exit to the balcony and ushered her toward it.

They both breathed deeply in the cool night air. The stars burned bright and clear overhead, and Ella tilted her head back to take them in. Phillip put his arm around her waist, enjoying her delight and her company. It was nice to get a moment to themselves after the new public-ness of their relationship.

The clatter of heels behind them alerted him to an encroaching visitor. He glanced over his shoulder and spotted Ella’s stepmother, trailing two older women. Thinking fast, he tugged Ella toward the far side of the balcony, which curved around the ballroom. There was a secret alcove here that he liked to visit every so often, when he needed an escape. Ivy draped over the entrance, and when it was dark out, anyone who didn’t already know it was there could easily miss it. He ducked through the ivy and pulled Ella in behind him.

Catching on to his purpose, she hurried in and sat on the stone bench that jutted out perpendicular to the ballroom wall. The side walls curved in around them, creating a small nook that hid them from the rest of the world.

He sat behind her, one leg on either side of the bench, and smothered a smile in her neck. He felt like a schoolboy in here, hiding from one of his stricter tutors. Ella caught on to his sense of mischief, grinning and tucking herself under his chin.

Outside, Ella’s stepmother’s heels clicked past. She paused, right outside the cascading ivy. “I was sure I saw them come out here,” she murmured to the other ladies.

Ella stifled a snicker, clapping her hand over her mouth. She looked so adorable, plus she was in the perfect position—back snug up against him, giving him the perfect view down the front of her shirt if he ducked his head—that he couldn’t help himself. He unzipped the back of her dress enough to slip his hand inside, snake it around to her front, and tease one of her nipples. She arched back against him, biting her lip to keep from making any noise. It felt like a challenge. One that he was more than up to.

As the stepmother continued chatting with her friends right outside, he unzipped her dress all the way—taking it slow to make sure it was silent—and ran his hand further beneath that supple, silky material. More than up to his challenge as well, she threw him a defiant look and slung one of her legs on the other side of the bench, opening to him, daring him.

Oh, yes, this was exactly what he’d wanted during all those dances. He ran his hand across her stomach, moved it further down, and circled one finger around the spot where he knew she wanted him most. She squirmed and he withdrew, teasing her again. She whirled around, glaring at him, and leaned in close.

“My turn,” she breathed, and unzipped his pants.

Outside their secret alcove, the ladies kept chatting, oblivious. The publicness of what they were doing and the fact that they could get caught at any second turned him on like nothing ever had before, and when Ella slipped a hand inside his pants to touch him, he had to bite down hard on the inside of his cheek to keep from groaning out loud. She smiled, triumphant, and stroked him.

He held himself as still as a stone, and it was the most difficult thing he’d ever done.

The sound of heels clicking away made him raise his head again. Ella looked up, grinning like a Cheshire cat. The stepmother and her friends were gone and they were alone, although they could still hear the music and faint chatting from the ballroom around the corner.

“Let’s go back to my room,” Ella said in a low voice.

But he shook his head. “I have a better idea. Do you know what this is?” He tapped on the bench beneath them. She frowned, puzzled, and he smiled slowly. “A loveseat. Some whimsical architect built it in when the Summer House was first designed, and I think it’s about time we put it to good use.”

Her eyes widened, with shock but also with desire, if he wasn’t mistaken. “We can’t do that. We’re in public.”

“The vines cover the entrance, and hardly anyone even knows to look for this spot.”

“But someone could find us.”

“It’s possible. Does that turn you on?”

She bit her lip again, and he knew he had her. Giving in to the urge he’d had since he’d gotten his first glimpse of her, he reached out, wrapped her ponytail around his hand twice, and pulled her head back for a long, scorching kiss.

“I’ve wanted to do that ever since we met,” he murmured.

“Oh yeah? There’s something I’ve been wanting to do since we met too,” she replied, then hesitated.

He leaned closer. “What? Tell me.”

A hesitant but incredibly sexy smile spread across her face. “You were right behind me, trying to give me that shoe, but I couldn’t turn around because I thought the bag would spill again. I had to look at you over my shoulder, and I kept thinking about… a better way I could be looking at you over my shoulder.”

“You want me to fuck you from behind?” he asked, because he was starting to realize she liked it when he talked dirty.

She nodded, biting her lip again, and holy hell—this woman would be the death of him. Suddenly there was nothing more important than getting inside her, right now, exactly how she wanted it.

He stood up, unbuckled his pants all the way. There was just enough room in the alcove to do this. Thank God he’d had the foresight to put a condom in his wallet. He tugged it out and ripped it open, but Ella stopped him and took it.

“Allow me,” she whispered, and slowly, torturously, slipped it onto him. He groaned.

“Turn around,” he said gruffly when she was done. “Bend over and hold onto the bench.”

“Your wish is my command,” she replied, echoing him. She turned, bent over the bench, laid her forearms across it and looked back over her shoulder. “I want to watch,” she said.

How was he here with this amazing woman? How was it she could turn him on this much, with a few touches and bold words? He pulled that liquid silver dress up, tugged her panties down and off. She was spread out before him like a gift, gorgeous and precious and his, her head turned with her eyes half-lidded in anticipation, waiting for him. Those heels lifted her up to just the right height. Her ass was heart-shaped and perfect and he couldn’t help but reach out, squeeze it hard enough to mark her as his, dip his fingers between her legs to see if she was ready for him. She was wet, and from the look in her eyes when he touched her, more than ready.

“You are so beautiful,” he told her in a low voice. He spread his hands over her hips to hold her in place and positioned his cock at her entrance. Her breath caught.

“Do it,” she whispered. “I want to see you take me, right now.”

He forced himself to ease into her slowly, filling her from behind. She moaned, low and quiet, still gazing at him over her shoulder. She was so tight and hot and wet, and her watching was a huge turn-on. “Fuck,” he said, giving up and plunging in to his hilt. “Fuck, Ella, I want to be so deep inside you.”

“Yes,” she whispered, and made one of those little noises that drove him crazy, like she couldn’t help herself. “Yes, God, harder, Phillip.” She squirmed her ass against him and he pulled out nearly all the way before burying himself in her again, harder this time and as deep as he could get. She grabbed onto the edge of the bench with both hands, white-knuckled, and dropped her head with a muffled moan.

So she liked it a little rough, did she? He pulled out and nudged her feet further forward, lifting her ass higher for a better angle before he drove back in. He was balls-deep in her now, and it still wasn’t enough, could never be enough. She bit down on a noise, trying to silence her pleasure. He set a relentless pace while the party continued just a dozen yards away, music filtering faintly around them. Pressure built at the base of his spine. He groaned, reached around, found her clit and tweaked it between his fingers. He moved his other hand up, grasping her waist to hold her more tightly in place.

She threw her head back, grinding herself hard against him, mouth open in ecstasy. Her muscles tightened around his hard length as she reached her peak and whimpered, trying to be quiet even though he could tell she wanted to shout. He drove himself into her again, once, twice, faster now, and then the pressure building at the base of his cock released as he pumped himself out.

He held on to her, hands tight around her waist as they both shuddered and spiraled and fell. This was exactly where he wanted to be. Lost inside this woman.

He was lost to her, as well. Tonight had brought that home to him—not just how badly he wanted her sexually, but how much he needed her in his life. She fulfilled him, brought out the color and adventure in a life that had always been duty after obligation after responsibility. With her at his side, all of that would be so much more meaningful, a joy instead of a burden.

As they recovered under the stars in their hideaway, a quiet waltz twining around them, he thanked God Ella Fernstone had finally agreed to a real relationship with him—because he didn’t think he could face life without her after this.