"I’m sure your father will be along as soon as he can," Rayne assured her. She walked forward, reaching for a nearby stool to pull up and sit beside Elia. She didn’t like the thought of taking the king's seat. Perhaps he is only late.
But as time drew on and Rayne found it harder and harder to convince Elia to eat without the presence of her father, she became sure that he would not be in attendance.
"Maybe we could go and see him?" Elia suggested when she’d eaten half her breakfast of honeyed toast and fruit. "I'm sure he must be bored from all his hard work."
"I’m sure he is too," Rayne agreed with a nod. She reached out and stroked the little girl's hair away from her face. "But we have our own work to do today. I’m taking you into the gardens for a bug hunt."
"A bug hunt?" Elia wrinkled her nose, looking less than impressed.
"Yes, a bug hunt," Rayne insisted, and she quickly fell into the routine of caring for Elia, her cares forgotten for a while thanks to the little girl's easy manner and happy laughter.
As the day passed on with no sign of the king in the gardens or even the nursery at nap time, Rayne began to feel increasingly guilty at the thought of coming between a father and his daughter. Having been kept from her own and never being able to say goodbye, she was all too aware of how it felt. Yet, what could she do? Asher was a king, and kings did whatever they wanted.
Chapter 10 - Asher
Usually, nothing would keep him away from the nursery at Elia's bedtime, but tonight, Asher couldn't bring himself to face either his daughter or Rayne. His daughter was much too intuitive and would know something was wrong as soon as he set foot in the nursery.
Instead, he sat at his study desk, absentmindedly flicking through unimportant paperwork, glancing at the clock above the mantelpiece across the room. The hands ticked on, growing closer and closer to Elia's bedtime, then past it entirely. A few minutes, half an hour, an hour. The longer he sat there, the guiltier he felt. Elia didn’t deserve to be punished for his mistakes.
Neither does Rayne…
As if the thought had summoned her, there was a sudden knock on the door that made him almost jump right out of his skin. Wings still aflutter with surprise, he called, "Come in!"
He expected it to be Paxton, come to give him some news or some kind of request from one of the staff. He was startled when Rayne swept in like a beautiful whirlwind.
Immediately, he sensed her distress and anger. He could see it written all over her face. What he wasn't prepared for was the fact that it was entirely aimed at him. "Why didn't you come to tuck Elia in?"
How dare you speak to me… he began to think, preparing to say the words out loud, but before he could say anything, she continued to rant. "It’s taken me well over an hour to get her to stop crying for you!"
Guilt caused a lump to form in Asher's throat, and although he’d never allowed someone to confront him in such a manner, he realized he might just deserve it. Besides, Rayne was even more beautiful when she was all fired up. She seemed to pulse with energy, her hair practically rising from her shoulders with static electricity, her eyes blazing with fury. She glared at him as though she had not a care in the world that he was a king, and she were nothing but a criminal's daughter.
Without saying a word, Asher got up from his desk and began to cross the room toward her. His movement stopped her rant dead in its tracks, and she glared at him as if daring him to challenge her. Asher felt a stirring in his loins even stronger than it had been the night before. He gritted his teeth, remembering how he’d taken her.
"What are you doing?" Rayne demanded when he came to stand in front of her, almost chest to chest. She turned her face up to him, never backing down, and Asher couldn't help but admire her courage. He’d never known anyone so willing to stand up to him save for perhaps his parents and his teachers when he’d been just a child. It intrigued him more than it angered him, and it only made him want her more. Even after all she’d said to him the night before.
"You are even more beautiful when you’re angry," he breathed, finally unclenching his teeth. He raised a hand to stroke a strand of hair from her face, only to feel her delicate fingers wrap around his wrist to stop him from touching her. He could’ve bypassed it easily if he wanted to. If he wanted to touch her, wanted to take her, he knew he could with brute force. But although every fiber of his being was screaming to have her, he couldn't bring himself to resort to violence, or even raise voice.
"Don't ever touch me again," she said, though her voice was less sure now, her tone faltering. "You lost the right to touch me when you rejected me."
Asher's stomach clenched, his jaw tightening once more. As much as he hated to admit it, he knew she was right. With a sigh, he dropped his hand away from her face, but made no move to step away. Reassured by the fact she did not step away either, he continued to gaze down at her as he said, "I wonder, would you be so angry with me now if I hadn't rejected you?"
He’d merely meant to ask the question, but he realized as he spoke how hoarse his voice was. He was so filled with desire that it was practically seeping out of him.
"We will never know, will we?" Rayne shrugged. Still, she didn’t make any attempt to move away. Was that disappointment he saw flash across her gaze? Was she disappointed they hadn't had the chance to find out where things could’ve gone? He couldn't be sure, but one thing he did know. He could feel Rayne's desire as if it were his own. It pulsed off her in waves, so strong, he could almost smell it, like a heady perfume.
"Maybe if you allowed me the chance to make it up to you, we could see where things might have gone?" he said, his voice low, cautious. Even more cautiously, he reached out a hand to take hold of hers. Though her fingers hung loosely in his palm, she didn’t attempt to snatch her hand away.
Her gaze was both curious and suspicious as she allowed him to pull her into his arms. Her brow was still furrowed with frustration, but the anger seemed to have simmered down inside her, replaced by the longing Asher could see battling with her good sense behind her beautiful blue eyes.
"Let me make it up to you," he whispered, using his free hand to stroke hair back behind her ear. He then cupped her cheek, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath his palm.
He heard Rayne's sharp intake of breath. Whether it was an intake of surprise or her preparing to deny him, he didn’t know. He didn't allow himself the chance to find out. Cupping her face in both his hands, he lowered his face to hers and kissed her with all the passion that’d been building up inside him since the last time they’d been together. For one dreadful moment, he believed she was going to try to escape him. He felt her entire body tense as if she were about to snatch herself out of his reach. Then he began to feel her lips returning his kiss and her body seemed to melt against his until he felt as though his hands on her face were the only thing holding her up. Instinctively, he allowed them to travel down her body, only allowing them to stop when they reached her buttocks.
She made no protest, and he allowed only a few moments to pass before picking her up into his arms. His groin was alight with the need to be inside her, and he wasted no time in carrying her to his desk. He would not allow her the chance to change her mind this time. This time, he would have her before she had the chance to remind herself she’d vowed he would never touch her again. The mere thought of never having her flesh touch his again made him need her all the more. Holding her in one strong arm, he swept the other over the surface of his desk, dashing the piles of paperwork and stationery onto the floor. No amount of parchment was going to get in his way. As if the action aroused her, Rayne gasped against his lips, and the moment he placed her on the desk, her back arched to push her breasts against his chest.
All rejection seemed forgotten as she reached for the silver belt buckle, the only thing between her and his cock. Asher growled deep in his throat as he felt the butt edge of her hands graze his swollen member. His manhood seemed to have a mind of its own. He could feel it throbbing with need.
His hands gripped the folds of her skirt and began to shove them up to her waist, exposing her creamy white thighs above her black stockings. The contrast he saw only out of the corner of his eye was enough to quicken his pulse. His fingertips grazed over the clips of her garter belt and travelled between her thighs.