Ella wanted to remember everything about this night, but it was moving so fast she couldn’t keep up with all the details. She tried to commit every word he said to memory, but she knew she would never remember it all. And if she kept trying, she wouldn’t experience this moment as fully as she should.

They were naked—well, except for the bra she still wore—they were entwined, and Cash was buried deep inside her. She was no longer a virgin. He shifted his hips, withdrawing from her body and then thrusting forward again. She ached, but it wasn’t a bad ache. It was, as she’d told him, a full-of-him ache. She would know for days, once this was over, that it had happened, because she would have a reminder with the soreness.

He took his time with her, moving slowly and deliberately, though each thrust was a little harder than the last. Their mouths tangled again, tongues stroking, breaths mingling. She suddenly thought that she would never have a more perfect night than this one.

And then, between the bittersweet ache of his possession and the little sparks that zipped through her from time to time, it happened. Her body caught fire. Something within her came to life as he moved, some new spark kindled, and she suddenly wanted more.

He must have sensed it because his movements grew harder and faster. All the pieces of her that had been floating aimlessly came together and focused on the blazing light at the end of the tunnel.

This. This was what she’d wanted, what she’d watched in those videos—that moment when pure pleasure took over and built toward a shattering climax. It was really happening. She was going to come this way, and she couldn’t wait for it.

But she couldn’t quite find her way.

“Cash,” she gasped when he dropped his head to her breasts and sucked a nipple into his mouth. He tugged harder than he had before, and a spike of hard pleasure shot down into her core. It was as if there were a conduit between her nipple and her clitoris because the more he sucked on one, the more the other ached.

He knew she needed more. Somehow, he knew.

“Come for me, Ella,” he commanded her.

Just like that, she obeyed. How could she not? She shouted. She knew she did, even though she wasn’t conscious of it happening. She heard the echo of it in her ears as her body came unglued. As heat and pleasure spiraled through her, sent lightning bolts of sensation into the outposts of her toes and fingers.

It was like her previous orgasms, yet unlike them too. She’d never climaxed with anything inside her before. Not a man, not fingers, not a dildo. Nothing. It was… sensational.

“That’s it, baby,” Cash said to her, his mouth at her ear, his tongue wreaking havoc on her senses as he sucked the skin of her neck and her earlobe. “Keep coming.”

She did. He didn’t stop moving inside her, and she didn’t stop trembling as her orgasm rippled through her in waves.

She was still coming when he joined her, his body stiffening as he groaned. She didn’t know that’s what it was at first, but then she felt his cock pulsing inside her and knew that must be what was happening. She wanted to watch it happen, but it was too late for that.

All she could do was stare at his face and watch it there. His eyes closed tight and his neck corded with muscle as he stiffened. His mouth fell open as he groaned. She’d never seen anything more beautiful than Cash McQuaid while he climaxed.

When he finished, when her own orgasm subsided, he kissed her on the forehead and got up to go take care of the condom. She felt empty without him inside her. As if he’d taken a part of her away when he’d withdrawn.

He returned with a washcloth in his hand. “There might be blood,” he said before she could ask.

She pushed up on her elbows and spread her legs. The blood shocked her, even though she knew she would have it. It was the evidence of her virginity, the proof that her value had plummeted. She felt relieved and strangely sad at the same time.

Cash sat beside her and tended to the blood even though she hadn’t asked him to. She’d expected he would hand her the cloth, but he didn’t. It was warm because he’d thought of that, and he wiped away all traces of her virginity—except where it had stained the sheets—while she looked at the back of his head and thought she might cry.

Not for her virginity. Never for that.

No, it was for herself. Because he’d been right about her even though she’d insisted he was wrong. He’d said she would make this mean more than it should, and he was right. Her heart throbbed with feelings. Her eyes blurred with the strength of the emotion storming inside her.

Was it love? Or gratitude? She didn’t quite know, but whatever it was, it hurt. Not because it felt bad, but because she knew he didn’t feel the same. He talked about going their separate ways, about this marriage ending as soon as possible—and all she wanted right now was to lie in his arms and think about the future. A future with him. A future in which they stayed married and made love as often as possible.

“How are you feeling?” he asked her as the cloth moved between her legs.

“A little sore. But also—wow. I had no idea, Cash. Thank you for giving me this gift.”

He frowned. “You make it sound like my motives were pure. They weren’t. A hard-on is a difficult thing to ignore, especially when you’ve been getting them without relief for days.”

“I think you’re stronger than that.”

“You’ve never had a hard dick, apparently.”

“I think I just did.”

His eyes dropped closed. He shook his head. “Jesus, Ella. You slay me with some of the shit you say.”

“I like to keep you guessing.”

“You do a good job of it.”

He finished wiping away the blood and took the cloth back to the bathroom. When he returned this time, he reached for his pants. Disappointment flared in her belly.

“Where are you going?”

His expression was a little bit hard, a little bit cool. Or maybe it was simply aloof. But it was such a change from a few moments ago that she was having trouble reconciling it. What had happened to change his mood?

“I’m not going anywhere. But I need to make some calls. You can stay in bed if you like. Have a nap. I’ll wake you when I hear something from Hawk.”

“About what?”

“Our departure. We’re going home.”

---

Okay, so he was an ass. Cash shoved a hand through his hair and grumbled to himself as he walked into the living area of the suite and picked up his phone.

Go back there, get in bed with her, and hold her.

No. He shook his head. No, he wasn’t going to do that. He wasn’t going to make this cuddly and sweet for her. It was bad enough he’d given in to the urge to fuck her. He stared at his phone for a second, then lifted his head to gaze out at the lights of Las Vegas. What had he done?

He’d just taken the virginity of a woman who would be a queen if her family hadn’t been deposed. Him, Cash McQuaid from Iowa, a kid whose mother had left him and whose father hadn’t cared enough about him to realize his new wife was abusive toward his son. All the times his stepmother was nice in front of his dad and then pushed him away when his dad’s back was turned. All the times he’d believed her, because he was a fucking kid, and then had his heart ripped out anew when she rejected him.

All he’d wanted was some affection. A hug. Someone who cared about his day at school and who was excited when he brought home a lame art project.

“Fuck,” he said beneath his breath. Why was he thinking about this shit? Ella’s childhood hadn’t been any better. Besides, he’d escaped long ago. Ella had only been free of her family’s shit for a handful of days.

His phone buzzed and he put it to his ear. “Yeah?”

“Hey, man. I can get you both on a charter at eight p.m. It’ll put you back in DC early, but it might be best to arrive at an odd time anyway.”

Cash looked at his watch. “Two hours. Thanks.”

“I’ll send an escort when it’s time to head for the airport.”

He and Hawk talked a little bit more about logistics, and then they ended the call. Cash turned and stared at the bedroom door. He didn’t want to go back in there. Because he didn’t want to see her tearstained face, her sad eyes, her confusion. She would be confused. He was certain of it. Because he was.

Dammit, he was.

That was the problem. For a man who always knew precisely what he was doing and why, he was suddenly wound up about his purpose and whether or not he’d done the right thing. He didn’t want to see regret in her gaze. Or, yeah, sadness.

Still, there was shit to do and he wasn’t the sort of man to avoid the difficult things. No, he charged in and took care of what had to be taken care of. He walked into the bedroom and stopped. The bed was empty.

He followed the sound of water and found her in the bathroom, standing naked with her hair piled on her head while steam built in the shower enclosure. Her back was to him, but she must have sensed his presence because she turned and he was faced with a jaw-dropping view of her beautiful tits, tiny waist, and the neat triangle of hair at the apex of her thighs.

Her skin was smooth, creamy—and abraded in places where he’d dragged his stubbled jaw over it. They were his marks of ownership. And then he saw it—another mark he’d put on her, the one on her neck when she’d been coming, a love bite that left little doubt what she’d been up to. It wasn’t anywhere that was going to be covered by her hair either.

Great.

“We’re leaving soon,” he told her, though his dick was starting to throb to life and his veins were beginning to flood with arousal and the urge to drive into her again.

“I won’t be long.”

She didn’t put her arms over her body to hide herself. But she was blushing. He could see it in the pink flush spreading over her cheeks and down her neck and collarbones. He knew the kind of strength it took not to do the instinctive thing. Not to react.

God, he admired her. More than he wanted to. But Ella was amazing. She really was a queen, even if her family hadn’t let her know it. He’d never met any of them, but he knew she was worth more than all of them put together. And maybe that’s why they’d kept her down—they knew it too, and they couldn’t stand it.

Because he couldn’t help it, he shot her what he knew to be his most winning grin. “Need help in the shower?”

Her tongue darted over her lips. And then she shook her head. “I think it will be better for me if I say no.”

Disappointment stomped his burgeoning arousal into the ground. But it wasn’t anything he didn’t deserve.

“Whatever you say, Princess,” he drawled, even though her rejection stung. “Holler if you change your mind.”

“I won’t.”

He tipped his head to her and started to back out of the room. “As Your Majesty wishes.”

She frowned, but she didn’t say anything. Instead, she opened the shower door and stepped inside. He knew that move.

Dismissed.