Her dark eyes were on his as he shoved the court robes from his shoulders. Urgent need fumbled his hands until his fingers ripped open the laces at his waist.
Abruptly she laughed.
Not the reaction he expected after her first glimpse of his cock.
Bane scowled.
Her grin enchanted him all over again. A sorceress, for sure. “When I was in the gallery, I thought—anyone who needs such a vainglorious portrait to convince people of his magnificence probably also wears padding.” Her appreciative gaze roamed over his chest. “But you don’t need to.”
No, Bane’s muscles needed no padding to appear as large as they did. But Tamas—eight years past, when Bane had visited the palace after spending a season at the training grounds, his twin had said he looked like an overmuscled barbarian from the Dead Lands, scorning the labor and hard work that had made him so. Yet that same year, after Bane had returned to the army, Tamas had begun padding his clothes.
“You’re so very strong.” Her heavy-lidded gaze traced the breadth of his shoulders before sliding lower and halting on his erection. Her pink tongue slicked over her bottom lip. “And big all over.”
Did that frighten her? “I’ll be gentle.”
“You can’t be.” Her gaze snapped back to his. “You must be brutal. You must make me bleed.”
Rough her first time? “I would not—”
“There can be no mistaking what we’ve done—and that you are the only one who has ever spent his seed inside me.”
So her parents could not argue a child was not his or that she was pregnant before she came to his bed.
Yet he meant to care for her. Not hurt her.
“I saved my maidenhead for this, my king,” she added softly. “To secure a kingdom. And I will not break. So take what I give to you.”
Bane couldn’t tell her that he’d saved himself for her, too. Tamas had obviously not abstained. She’d think him a liar.
Bane was a liar. But he’d never let her be sorry for what she was about to give him.
“Then open those pretty thighs for me, Princess,” he ordered hoarsely, climbing onto the bed and walking forward on his knees until he reached the space she made for him. Slowly he kissed his way up her body, pausing to suck on a hardened nipple, to rake his mouth up the length of her neck, then finally to claim her lips.
Her needy whimper when he stroked his tongue into her mouth was everything.
He needed no kingdom. He needed no crown. Only her kiss.
“No more of this!” She broke the connection with a frantic shake of her head. Her harsh breaths filled the air between them. Her fingers clutched at his shoulders, her knees rising up alongside his ribs. “Hurry.”
Because they had not much time left before they were discovered. Before she learned of his deception and learned to hate him.
But with the blood and his seed as evidence, they would be made to marry. The princess would be his.
Then he’d spend all the rest of his days earning her forgiveness.
Blood thundering, he guided the fat head of his cock through her folds, the searing heat ripping a groan from his chest. Though drenched in her need, her tight little entrance was an unyielding well of flesh. So little. All of her was small compared to him, a glorious collection of curves and cunning with a massive beast hovering over her, his body shaking with tension.
The tilt of her hips urged him on, her eyes glittering.
“My king,” she whispered.
Gritting his teeth, he snapped his hips forward and drove his cock into slick, resisting flesh. Her scream pierced his chest. The sound of her pain slashed agony through his heart, a white hot flare of venom that joined the lightning jolt of being wrapped up in her tight cunt.
Partly wrapped up. Barely past the tip.
But even that much was pure bliss. The hot grip of her sheath took hold of him, from his cock to his bones. Venom seared through his veins. His body shook with the effort of remaining still. Because she’d screamed. Now her face was buried against his chest. Hiding her pain.
His blood was afire. He needed to take care of her. To protect her.
But he was the one hurting her.
And he couldn’t think.
Except he needed to get deeper. To do as she’d told him. To give her what she wanted.
A kingdom.
Dragging in a ragged lungful of air, Bane rolled his hips. He sank deeper.
Her scream this time was muffled against his chest. Her teeth dug into his pectoral—punishing him for hurting her or to silence the end of her scream, he didn’t know, didn’t care. Let her chew him to pieces, if she needed to. He’d proudly wear the scar from her bite for the rest of his life.
Another short thrust. Another, working farther into her snug, slick heat. Another. Another. Until he was full deep.