e idea that she saw their union as some kind of cold business arrangement was not palatable to him, for reasons unknown. After all, political marriages such as theirs were essentially built on business, were they not?
‘I’m not saying that we each aren’t bound by the same rules as usual marriages,’ she said hurriedly. ‘I just mean that, behind closed doors, we both know different.’
‘Do you feel bound by the rules, Cressida?’ he said silkily, feeling a pang of irritation at the feelings her words evoked. The memory of a similar conversation in the past came to the surface, another woman’s voice.
‘I have never been good at playing by the rules, Khal. I’m sorry.’
‘I have no desire to enter into a verbal sparring match at midnight,’ Cressida said, standing up and shaking out the fabric of her nightgown. ‘You were clearly aggravated by something before I came in here and I think it’s best that I say goodnight.’
‘Oh, no, you don’t.’ Khal stood, moving so that he blocked her way. ‘You see, I like to finish conversations, not walk away from them if they get a little uncomfortable.’
‘I don’t feel like this is a conversation any longer. I feel like you are putting words into my mouth.’
She’d mentioned her mouth and, sure enough, that was where his eyes wandered, the perfect pink flesh teasing him. ‘Do you feel bound by the rules of this marriage?’ he asked again, softer this time. The air between them thrummed with awareness.
‘Sometimes.’ She half whispered the word, her breath seeming slightly laboured all of a sudden. ‘But perhaps not quite in the way that you think.’
‘Do you feel unhappy here with me, Cressida?’ he asked, feeling the sizzle of something dangerous in the air between them. He wanted to know the answer to his question, the honest answer. To allow him to see beneath the facade she always wore around him.
He wanted something real.
Cressida shook her head once, her eyes meeting his. ‘I don’t feel unhappy when I’m with you. I feel...frustrated.’
He wasn’t sure who leaned in first, but suddenly their mouths were locked and it was like the first drink after weeks in the desert. He feasted on her, taking every ounce of the longing that he could feel in her kiss and giving back in equal measure. He felt the weight of her arms around his neck, her chest pressed tightly against his, and yet it still wasn’t enough. He pressed her back against the bookcase, ignoring her sharp intake of breath as he raised her arms above her head and began a slow trail down her neck.
Her groans sent the blood rushing straight to his groin, not that he hadn’t already lost control of that particular piece of his anatomy. She moved against him, consciously or unconsciously coming into contact with his arousal and giving a slight gasp. Khal looked down into her widened eyes, tension furling and unfurling in his lower abdomen.
‘Tell me to stop,’ he commanded. ‘Tell me that you don’t want this.’
‘I can’t,’ she whispered, lowering her face into the curve of his neck and pressing a hot kiss to his skin. ‘I think I have wanted this from the first moment I saw you.’
The kiss undid him completely, along with the words. He waited a moment as she kissed along his clavicle, running her hot tongue along his skin. Unable to cope with the torture of standing still, he ran his hands over her shoulders, gently spreading the delicate vee of her robe wide enough to lower the neck of her nightgown and expose the porcelain skin of one breast. He let his hands explore one hardened peak until she leaned her head back in sensual abandon. Then he leaned down to replace fingers with lips and tongue. He thoroughly pleasured one delicate breast before moving on to afford the same attentions to its twin. Each movement of his tongue brought forth groans of pleasure, which Cressida tried to stifle with her fist. They were in his study, after all.
She moved against him again, more impatiently this time, as though she knew exactly what she wanted. Her pelvis fitted in line with his so perfectly. It would be so easy to just wrap her legs around his waist and slide himself inside her. He would take her rough and hard, sliding in and out of her moist heat until neither of them could remember their own name...
‘Don’t stop, Khal.’ Her hushed plea threatened to undo him. ‘Please.’
Spurred on by the raw need in her voice, he continued his explorations, removing her robe and letting his fingers gather her nightgown up until it bunched just under her hips. Pinning the fabric with one hand, he found the lace-covered centre of her and applied a gentle pressure.
* * *
Cressida’s attempts to remain quiet were short-lived; soon her loud gasps and stifled moans filled the room. She had never felt such unbearable pleasure as she did with his hands on her, touching her. It was as though he knew exactly how she liked it, exactly how she touched herself in the dark of night when no one was watching. Khal let out a deeply male groan of pleasure as she moved herself against his hand, wanting more than he gave.
He pulled the lace down over her hips, watching her eyes the whole time. Perhaps he was waiting to see if she had finally come to her senses and decided she didn’t want this, after all. She did not falter. She had made her decision the moment he stood in front of her, all male sexual energy. Perhaps tomorrow she would remember why this was such a bad idea but in this moment she had never wanted anything more in her life.
She became impatient with his slow movements and kicked the material off the rest of the way, enticing a husky laugh from his throat. She smiled, amazed that this felt so right all of a sudden when moments ago they had been talking about practicality. There was nothing practical about what they were doing right now and they both knew it.
His fingers came into contact with her bare flesh and within seconds she could feel her body begin to pulse and tighten as it began to ascend towards climax. He must have sensed it too because, just as she had almost reached the peak, he stopped.
‘What are you—’ Her stunned words were stifled by his kiss as he gathered her up into his arms and carried her a few steps across the room to a long sofa. The cushions were soft underneath her but the fabric of her nightgown bunched uncomfortably around her waist.
As though he read her mind, he helped her to be rid of the pesky layers. All of a sudden she was completely naked, spread out before him while he was still completely clothed. He paused for a moment, eyes darkening with pleasure as he drank her in, then he set about removing his own clothing. By the time he was completely naked, Cressida’s throat had gone dry. He was...magnificent. There was no other way to describe the hard expanse of copper-toned skin on show. He was well built in a suit but nude, he was powerful. Muscles rippled along a trim abdomen, leading to trim hips and... She gulped, wondering how on earth that was going to fit anywhere belonging to her.
‘I have dreamed of doing this,’ he murmured, moving over her so that their bodies were entwined. She could feel the heat of him pressing between her thighs, her own excitement slightly embarrassing now that no clothing was between them.
She was nervous but definitely ready. As he poised himself over her, she was struck by the weight of this moment. He moved against her with such slowness, she felt a lump in her throat. She could feel his hard heat as he slid the first inch inside; there was only slight pain as he moved further, stretching her to accommodate him. His eyes widened for a moment as some of her discomfort must have showed on her face. He made to pull away but Cressida gripped his hips with her thighs, holding him tightly against her. Keeping their bodies joined.
He uttered a curse under his breath, his breathing laboured as he gently pressed his forehead against hers, holding his body still with impressive control.