Tess gripped the sides of the bookcase, holding her breath as Antone pressed against her.

She murmured her approval, and his finger slipped inside her, gently at first, and then in and out until she ground along with him. It would be her turn soon, and her mouth watered at the thought of taking him deep into her mouth.

She moaned lower at the thought, and then his thumb circled her clit, making her grind into her harder. Making her want to climb on top of him right there on the library's floor and bring them both to a screaming release.

Instead, she cupped her own breasts, rolling each of her nipples between thumb and forefinger until her moans became silent screams of satisfaction.

"Yes," Antone urged her. "You look so beautiful." And so did he. Smiling down at her, his dark hair falling over his even darker eyes. Suddenly, he thrust another finger inside of her, working her even faster than before, but she slipped away before she lost herself in him.

If she let this go on, this would all become about her, but she couldn't allow that to happen--not this time. She wanted to show him that she could please him. That she was more than just some blushing, shy virgin. That she was the type of women who could do a whole lot more than warm his bed at night.

"No," she whispered, and he looked up, those dark brows of his knit together.

"What's wrong?"

"I want to taste you. Please. Let me taste you." She hadn't expected it to sound so much like she was begging, but she dropped to her knees to find his cock, big and hard and ready for her, and she licked her lips, desperate to taste him. He gripped his base for her, and then she closed over him, slowly at first, rolling her tongue around his heated skin before taking him deeper into her throat, until she couldn't take him anymore.

She wanted to cup his balls or knead his thighs, but based on his soft groan of approval, what she was doing was enough for him. If only it was enough for her. She wanted to feel him, to give him everything. She gripped the base of his shaft with one firm hand and then slid him between her lips, bobbing over his head once, twice, three times before pulling him in all deep as he could go. She gagged a little when he hit the back of her throat, but she didn't care. The way he groaned her name, the way his fingers slid between her locks and pulled her hair away from her face made it all worth it.

With her free hand, she teased his thighs until he groaned louder still.

"Fuck, baby," he said, and she smiled against his cock before moving up and down again. With every groan she worked him faster, loving the instant gratification of his approval, but then he gripped her hair a little harder, moving her slower against him, and she obeyed without a thought.

She moved along with him to match the speed, massaging each of his inner thighs slowly and gently. And as much as she wanted to feel him push inside of her, another part of her wanted to feel him spend himself in her mouth so she could swallow him down in one. Or lean back and watch him work himself until he came all over her breasts.

She sucked harder, allowing the visions to flood her brain, and all too soon, the fingers laced in her hair and pulled her back until only one thin strand of saliva connected them. Then her hair was released and his hands were on her biceps, pulling her to standing, though part of her was still in a lust-induced haze.

"Let me finish," she breathed when he was near enough, and though he smiled, he didn't bother to answer.

Instead, he dropped kisses along the column of her neck, then lower, past her collarbone and over the top swell of her breast until he'd found her nipple. One hand dipped between her thighs and he teased her there for a moment before his teeth closed over the nipple and he sucked, gently at first, and then harder until he arched into him and whimpered.

She spread her thighs wider, but he wouldn't touch her opening. Instead, he circled her clit over and over again, switching directions with every few beats and making a brand new wave of electricity sweep over her again. "I--" she started, but she lost all track of thought when his mouth moved to her other breast and the hand that had been secured on her waist pinched the other cherry peak in time with his kisses.

"I have to have you." He licked her nipple again so that she could see and her walls quaked at the sight. He pressed her back against the bookshelf and she braced herself, so filled with need and aching, restless longing that she couldn't bring herself to protest.

With on hand, he raised her thigh to wind around his waist, pressing his hot, thick need hard against her.

It was going to happen. At last, it was going to happen.

And then it did. The world split apart as he thrust into her so fast that she hadn't even seen it coming. In one moment, his hand was pleasuring her, and then the almost all-consuming teasing strokes were replaced by the feel of her walls stretching to accommodate his massive length. This time, though, there was no gentle slide until she'd adapted to his thickness. No, it was all full and forceful and buried to the hilt, and he groaned against as he slapped one hand on the bookshelf above her head.

"You feel amazing," he said.

"So do you," she breathed. And he did. He didn't even have to move to make her writhe with desire. Already she was arching into him, trying to bring him even deeper into her. She was shaking, desperate for another push, a new pull. And he met each of her demands with ease.

She buried her lips against his neck, peppering him with kisses as his spare hand dug into her hips, guiding her every push and pull and making it that much more electric.

She was already so close, so near the breaking point that she knew just one more push off the edge would do it. Once they found that angle, she'd close her eyes tight and lose herself in the contracting of her muscles as wave after wave of pleasure flooded her body.

But she fought it off. She had to. For Him.

So she bit her lip until it nearly bled, squeezing her muscles tight around him to prevent the swell of release, but it was a near impossible task. With his hard muscles pressed against her chest like this? With his heated breath fanning her neck with every thrust--

"I want to come with you," he groaned.

And then he lifted her up off of the ground, wrapping her legs around his back until he was as deep as he could go and she bobbed against the bookshelf, the impact of his thrusts so powerful that she thought she might bruise.

Somehow, though, she thought that would only make it better. Tomorrow, when she saw the thumb-print sized bruises where he'd held her thighs, she'd be able to smile at herself in the mirror. Hell, she was getting wetter just thinking about it.

"Are you ready?" His voice was little more than a rasp and she panted her reply quickly.

"God, yes." And just like that, she was spinning, the whole world dark and light at once as the ball of need low in her stomach split open and filled her body were sheer pleasure.

As he groaned, pushing into her harder and faster still, her tail bone bumping against the bookcase so hard she thought it might splinter, her orgasm redoubled on itself, pulling for a moment and then rippling out, pushing her to even further heights.

She gripped his neck tight as he fucked her harder still, and then as the last waves of pleasure roared through her, she felt him filling her up with his need, spurting inside her in hot, heavy strokes as he let out a long, satisfied groan. His legs quaked as he pressed her hard against the bookshelf, but she closed her eyes, willing herself not to lose herself again in the total ecstasy of his heat.

When at last he'd finished, she moved to put her feet back on the ground, but to her surprise, he gripped the backs of her thighs and held her there. Burying his face against her throat, he murmured, "Not yet, mi amore. Not yet."

She breathed deep, feeling the weight of his body as he relaxed against her, and, for some strange reason, she felt somehow even more connected to him in this moment than she had when he'd moved inside her. Now, all his control and command had been spent. All his walls had been torn down, and he was hers, all hers, without duty or expectation--if only for a few more minutes.

As the silence stretched between them and she felt his steady, warm inhale and exhale against her still-exposed skin, she wrapped her arms around his neck and murmured, "I don't want to do to dinner tonight."

"Then you will not." He dropped a kiss on her collar bone. "Tonight, you will take your meal when you wish. So long as you share it with me in my quarters." He raised his gaze to hers, and when she saw how dark and meaningful to had already become, she had no choice but to nod.

"Excellent." Still grasping her thighs, he placed her trembling limbs firmly on the ground, then pulled away from her. "Now we should dress. At least, until you're in my room." He flashed her a mischievous smile and she returned it, scrambling for her dress.

When they'd clothed themselves again, he took her hand in his and guided her toward a part of the castle she had yet to explore. Here, the castle overlooked the sea outside, and even though they were so far above the crashing waves, the salty smell of the water still wafted in the air so strongly that she could practically taste it. At the end of the hall, a huge, ornate archway led to a set of thick, wooden double doors and Antone pushed through them easily to show her a huge, stone room with a vaulted cathedral ceiling and polished wooden floors.

Like her own room, the huge windows were dressed with lavish red curtains that matched the expensive-looking comforter and pillows, but rather than the feminine, golden stitching that made her room so impressive, Antone's quarters were simple and stark. The armoire sat in a forgotten corner, overtaken and obscured by the towering bookcases that flanked it on either side.

Central to the room was a massive, oak desk and a simple golden desk lamp. Like his office, this desk, too, was littered with papers and books along with his apparently untouched breakfast tray.

She moved toward the desk, her hand outstretched, but before she could pick up one of the thick, gold-paged tomes on the corner of the surface, Antone pulled her close to him and the smell of the sea air was erased by his own cherry-wood scent and the hint of sex that still clung to him.

"Trying to keep me from looking at your state secrets?" she asked, and though she'd been trying to tease him, he shook his head solemnly.

"I'd rather not think of them just now." He pulled her in closer still and dropped a kiss on her neck. "I hope you can forgive me."

"I think I'll manage." She reached for his fly, but he took his hand up in hers, laughing as he pulled it away.

"Not so fast."

"What's the matter? Don't you want--"

"Oh, I want." He pushed a lock of her hair behind her ear and she shivered. "But considering our schedule, we ought to spend a little time with our clothes on or risk the chance of being caught by the person who comes to ask if we'd like our meals."

With him so close, Tess had trouble remembering what would be so wrong with that, but she nodded all the same.

"Right." She sat on the bed, kicking her legs out in front of her as she took in the view of sea through his huge, cathedral-like windows. "Well, I'll wait, but I don't have to be happy about it."

"When the time comes, I will ensure it was worth every moment." He looped around to sit beside her on the bed, and though she never moved her gaze from the window, she was conscious of the weight of his gaze on her, searching her and appraising her as usual.

After a long moment had gone by, she finally turned to him and asked, "What?"

"Nothing." He shrugged.

"No, it's not nothing. You always do that. You look at me and it's like...it's like..." She searched around for the right description, but nothing came. "Well, I don't know what it's like. I can't figure it out."

"If you want to know what I'm thinking, you need only ask," he said, then, with the hint of a smile, he added, "Though, the more I come to know you, the more I think this is a big request for someone as...obstinate as yourself."

She shot him a glare, but he pressed on, ignoring it. "For example, if you were to ask me right now, I would tell you that I was thinking of how different you are from all the women I've ever known."

She blushed. "Well, I guess that's not a huge shock. I'm not exactly--"

He shook his head. "You are not impressed by the castle's largess. You moved right past all the decadent furnishings to look instead at the world outside--the ocean and the cliffs. Just as you did that first night in my hotel room. You paid no attention to the extravagance of the place. You were not taken aback by the private plane."

"What, were you hoping I'd fall all over myself?" she asked, preparing herself for the fight, but he shook his head again.

"You misunderstand me. I am...intrigued by you. Even my sisters who have known this sort of privilege all their lives are still thrilled at the idea of a lavish gown or a new tiara."

It was wrong--she knew it was wrong--but she couldn't keep herself from grimacing at that.

"You take offense to this?" Antone asked.

This time it was her turn to shake her head. "No, I understand that a lot of women, maybe even most women, would be excited by those things, but I just..." She took a deep breath. "When you spend your whole life trying to get away from the formality and suffocation that comes with a life like that, it's hard to dive back in."

"Ah, you are thinking of the baby?"

She didn't look at him as she nodded. "I spent my whole life going to play dates that had some sort of political maneuvering behind them. My personality was expected to fit inside these tiny confines and reach expectations that just didn't suit me. You're right. It's a privileged life with the best schools and the best clothes and the best of everything...but it was never what I wanted for my child. I wanted him or her to be able to get dirty and play when they went to the park. To be able to make mistakes without the whole world looking on. After what the press did to me..."

She cleared her throat, then forced herself to meet his gaze. "I mean, you're in the garden practically every night fretting over the huge amount of responsibility you carry on your shoulders. Do you mean to tell me that if you had the choice, you would have lived this way on purpose?"

* * *

Antone stared at her, thinking over each and every word she'd said and turning it over in his mind. There was no doubting the truth of what she'd said--a public life was a huge trade off for a life filled with opportunities and privileges. Still, there was no changing what had happened, nor was there any possibility of altering the fate of their child. He would be king one day, just as Antone would be. Just as his father was now.

"I do not know that I would change my responsibilities. But I do know that my upbringing was better than any I could have asked for. My mother was patient and kind. My father, before her passing, groomed me to lead. I never felt that I was missing anything or that, if I chose another path, my family would not support me." He laid his hand on the tiny swell of Tess' stomach, then took her hand in his. "I cannot pretend to know what it is to be a father, but I know that whatever this baby wants, this baby will have--come hell or high water. We will protect him and keep him safe. And if you are even half the mother I think you will be, then I have no doubt he will be not only a good ruler, but a good and decent man as well."

Tear glistened in the corners of her eyes and he reached up lo brush them away. Then, threading his fingers through her hair, he pulled her close and let her tears fall onto his chest.