Heart thudding, she raced to the dresser and pried open the top drawer, liberating his book and tearing a page—the page—out of her diary. He’d probably expected her to forget about it. Not a chance.
As she scanned the words, the blood rushed from her head. Everything rushed from her head but a cloud of horror. He must die. Die. Diiiiiie. Dieeeeeeee. Die die die. Diediediedie. William must die. William must be killed. Kill him. Kill him dead.
The passage rambled on, but she could stomach no more and returned it to the drawer. No wonder he’d paled when he’d looked it over.
Why hadn’t he kicked Sunny to the curb that very instant?
Why had he asked her to move in with him?
Unless he merely wished to guard her?
No. She discarded the notion. The man wanted her. That, she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt. The way he looked at her, as if he’d never beheld something so fine... Oh, yes. He wants me.
Okay. Forget the note—for now. She would decode the book as fast as inhumanly possible. In fact, she would study until she’d decoded every symbol. Tomorrow, she would study the book until she’d decoded every symbol. No stopping until the deed was done, the curse broken. Tonight, she was just a girl, and William was just a boy. They would christen their move-in.
Sunny returned the book to the drawer as well, then hurried to the bed, where she removed her dress. In her undergarments, she crawled atop the covers and lay down. Hey! The bed was different. This one had a soft mattress, four posters carved with dragons and a wispy white canopy draping the sides. But...but why would he exchange the bed during their absence?
She remembered his strange behavior before the meeting, how he’d wanted to make out only to abruptly change his mind. Because he’d wanted a new bed?
And who had started a fire in the hearth? The flames had warmed the air to her favorite temperature: toasty.
William returned a few minutes later, minus Dawn. Must have left her with Pandora. His hands were fisted, his shallow breaths coming fast. A rise of his fury, or arousal?
“Hello, William,” she rasped. “I have a present for you.”
His gaze zoomed to her and narrowed, as if the predator had just selected his prey. “I went on a walk to clear my head, but every step away from you made the chaos worse.”
“And now?”
“Even. Worse.” Motions clipped, he gripped the back collar of his shirt and tugged the material overhead. Voice as rough as gravel, he said, “Throughout my life, I’ve been tortured in every way imaginable, but I find nothing as torturous as this. Seeing you, and not being inside you.”
It’s happening. We’re really going to do this. Tremors shook her. All she could do? Nod.
He watched, his gaze heating. “I want to fuck you, sundae. Hard.”
His voice was even rougher. A caress to her senses, as always, but a caress from a calloused hand. Delicious. “Y-yes. Be with me.” Please.
He stalked to the foot of the bed, graceful but menacing. Heat radiated from his massive body, engulfing her in invisible flames. His lusty scent acted as kindling.
His immense size made her feel fragile, but powerful, too. He was big and strong, yet he trembled same as her, as if the sight of her unmanned him.
What would he do next? A question she thought she would wonder every day they were together.
He toyed with the fly of his leathers, and she watched, mesmerized, her breaths coming faster, sharper. Flutters ignited in her belly. “William,” she rasped, maneuvering to an upright position. “Kiss me. Touch me.”
“Soon,” he promised. “First, show me how much you desire me.” A command from a conqueror.
She tore at her bra. Her panties. Naked, she reclined on the mattress, her knees up but closed.
His gaze heated. Burning. He looked at her as if she were the only other person alive. As if the world had been torched and she was his only lifeline.
As if he would die for her—or kill to be inside her.
“Show me,” he demanded.
Slowly she parted her thighs...
The sound he made? He guttural groan of pure need. He swiped a hand over his mouth, an action she’d come to adore, the muscles in his biceps and abdomen contracting. “So pink and pretty—so damn beautiful—created just for me.”
Dazed, she parroted, “Just for you.” How did I ever consider this male unskilled? She lowered her gaze to his erection and licked her lips. “Is that just for me?”
“That has a name,” he teased unexpectedly, stroking up and down, up and down.
“Princess Sparkles?” she teased back. “Big Willy?”
“Master. Say, I want only to please you, Master.”
He didn’t think she’d do it. So, she did it. With one little tweak. Staring at his shaft, she rasped, “I want only to please you, baby. Come closer.”
The teasing ended abruptly, ravenous hunger darkening his features.
“Your turn,” she purred. “Say, I live only for your pleasure, Mistress.”
The corners of his mouth twitched again. “I live only for our pleasure, sundae.”
Mmm. She liked the sound of that.
“Touch yourself,” he commanded now. “Show me how you—the best lover you’ve ever had—likes to be sated.”
Eager to obey, she dragged a hand down her stomach and slid a finger deep into her wetness. Pleasure. Bliss. With a groan, she undulated, rocking her hips.
His yearning was palpable. A mating call, like calling to like. He kicked off his boots and disarmed, dropping his weapons to the floor. Metal clinked as the pile grew. And grew. That done, he slid his zipper down, his erection popping free. Moisture already wet the slit.
She fingered herself faster. He panted; she panted, too, their ragged breaths providing an erotic soundtrack.
He pushed the pants down and off, and she ate up his body with her eyes. His tattooed chest and mouthwatering eight-pack acted as the appetizer, but the goodie trail that led to the new center of her world provided an entire meal.
The most beautiful man in the worlds is mine.
Yes, countless others had enjoyed him. So what? They were merely practice for me. And, to be honest, she kind of felt sorry for them. Their first taste of undiluted bliss had been their last.
“Is this what you want? What you need?” He stroked his length, up, down, his ferocity and excitement fueling her own.
“Yes! Give it to me.” Empty, aching, she arched her back, sending her fingers ever deeper. Her whimper of rapture blended with his grunt of praise.
The foot of the bed dipped as William climbed onto the mattress. He prowled up her body, his wild eyes heavy-lidded. Every time his hands brushed against a different part of her, the corded muscles in his abdomen flexed.
He is perfection.
When he had a fist pressed beside each of her temples, he wedged his hips between her thighs, pushing her legs farther apart. He rested his erection atop her small triangle of silvery-white curls, shuddered with pleasure.
Nothing between us but searing heat.
He clasped her wrist and brought her fingers—the ones wet with her arousal—to his mouth. He laved one after the other, driving her wild. Never had she ached so fervently.
Voice a drug, he snarled, “How do you taste like rainbows?”
Don’t know. Don’t know anything but ne
ed. “Kiss me,” she pleaded, moaning.
Leaning down, down, he slanted his mouth over hers. His tongue thrust inside. Masterful. She might taste like rainbows, but he tasted like a dark, rich wine. Intoxicating.
They exchanged breaths and rubbed against each other, every movement pressing his erection against her clitoris. Pressure mounted, inhibitions crumbling.
Groaning, he lifted his head. “Look at my sundae.” Arousal stripped away his humanity, revealing a true prince of darkness. “You love what I do to your body.”
The satisfaction in his tone launched her into a frenzy. She thrashed and strained. She tried to say, “I want more.” But she moaned incoherent words. Shameless and wanton, she rolled her hips, chasing the tip of his length.
Always he edged the other direction at the last second, preventing penetration.
With one hand, he shackled her arms over her head. With the other, he kneaded her breasts and pinched her nipples. Lightning flashed over his skin, emitting sultry, heady heat.
“Can’t get enough.” He dipped his head... His lips closed around her nipple and sucked, hard. Harder. As he alternated between sucking and pinching, sucking and pinching, a glorious madness overtook her.
Want him.
Will have him.
Never had she been so aroused, so fevered. When he traced his fingers down her stomach and slowly inserted a finger into her core, she ground against his hand. So good!
“More,” she demanded. “Another finger. Put it in. Please!”
“How my sundae loves her pleasures.” With his next inward plunge, he worked a second finger inside, wringing a breathless cry from her. The stretch...ecstasy.
A stray thought whispered: Must give as much as you take.
She slowed. In all their time together, she’d never asked him about his secret fantasies. A travesty. Sunny wanted him to know this bliss. What had he always wanted to do with a woman, but never had?