Chapter Twelve #2
‘I was tempted but somehow it never seemed right.’ She’d been raised to think of sex in terms of a committed, lifelong relationship.
That and her intrinsic distrust of passionate love, courtesy of her parents’ tragedy, had made her too ready to see flaws in the men who’d tried to persuade her into bed. ‘Maybe my standards are too high.’
‘Or you didn’t meet the right man.’
Benedikt sounded smug, as well he might, looking like some immortal god full of devastating masculine power.
‘You think you’re the right man? You have to prove— Oh!’
He’d flexed his hips and she felt the strangest sensation as her body opened for him. There was weight and heat and a mix of trepidation and thrilling anticipation that tensed her whole body.
To her surprise, Benedikt didn’t thrust further. He lowered his head to her breast, fondling and kissing, squeezing until she squirmed beneath him, inching her legs wider so his solid thighs sank between them.
There, that was better. With one hand he nudged her clitoris, stoking the fire, then pressed in, a little further this time. He was so big, so solid, she didn’t know how this could possibly work, though of course it must.
She was bracing to take him when he withdrew, the heaviness of his shaft shockingly virile against her thigh as he lavished attention on her other breast. Meanwhile his fingers teased and stroked until everything gathered in a rush towards orgasm.
He stopped before she fell over the edge.
Blinking up, Annalena met his serious stare as he slid forward, prodding gently till her breath caught on the edge of being overwhelmed.
So it continued, Benedikt kissing and caressing, building up the need in her, letting her acclimatise to his possession, one slow centimetre at a time.
It was either the most thoughtful, considerate introduction to sex or a refined form of torture, designed to drive her out of her mind.
Her need was so intense, the suspense so great, that finally she lifted her knees and anchored them around his hips so he couldn’t pull away. To make doubly sure she grabbed his buttocks, digging in her fingers.
‘More,’ she whispered. ‘Give me everything.’
Above her his face was a mask of pared lines and brutal restraint. His nostrils flared. ‘Everything?’
Heart thrumming, she nodded. He gathered himself and plunged deep, so deep there were no words to describe such intimacy.
Annalena blinked, trying to catch her breath.
Instantly Benedikt frowned. ‘I hurt you?’
‘No!’ How could she explain? It felt too extraordinary. ‘Not hurt.’
She hefted in air, feeling the friction of her breasts against his hairy chest. That distracted her, sending delight corkscrewing through her. Everything about him felt so good.
There’d been no pain. Trepidation, yes, and she realised her tension would have worked against her if not for Benedikt’s patient attentions.
She felt his strain, saw it in his almost-grimace, and felt a wave of tenderness for this man who put her needs beyond his own. If she weren’t careful, she might read too much into that.
‘Show me more.’
The grimace became a surprisingly endearing lopsided smile. ‘Demanding woman.’
She raised her eyebrows, delighted. ‘I am a queen.’
‘Ah. Well, then, if it’s a royal command…’
Benedikt moved back then bucked his hips. Annalena clung tight through his rhythm of surge and retreat, slowly testing her own response. She thrilled at the sensations he evoked, gasping at each new level of heightened arousal, mutually shared.
His breaths shortened, his movements grew quicker and less fluid. He lowered his dark head, grazing his teeth at a tender spot on her neck she hadn’t known existed. Fire jolted through her and when his fingers caressed her too…
White light exploded, engulfing her, drawing her up and up as she shattered into stardust. But still the ecstasy went on, so acute it had no beginning or end.
There was only bliss and Benedikt, golden eyes, convulsing body and then hot, cushioning muscles drawing her close and holding her through the maelstrom.
Benedikt stood before the bathroom mirror, concentrating on the razor’s glide through the shaving foam on his jaw. An electric razor wasn’t good enough today, not when he’d seen the stubble burn he’d left on Annalena.
Hard to believe they’d only shared a bed for one night. It felt like more. It felt momentous .
So momentous, so different, it worried him. He couldn’t recall anything like it. He shook his head and flicked excess foam from the blade into the sink.
Who was he kidding? It had been compelling, exciting, but not—as he’d imagined in the early hours—extraordinary. That had been his hormones talking. And lingering shock that his bride had been a virgin.
No wonder he’d felt that sudden surge of protectiveness.
Except, he realised, it couldn’t have been protectiveness, just surprise and the need to ensure she enjoyed the experience. Her pleasure added to his own and he wanted a wife who enjoyed intimacy, not who avoided it.
Protectiveness! The only protection she ever needed was from you.
You’ve used her again and again, forcing her into marriage and a crown she doesn’t want, just to safeguard your position.
Making her give up a career she loves because you alone decided it was necessary.
Revelling not only in her passion but her virginity.
He grimaced, avoiding his eyes in the mirror, not wanting to discover what he’d see there.
Today he’d woken to sunlight illuminating Annalena sprawled and exhausted in her rumpled bed. Because even her inexperience hadn’t been enough to stop him having her again, and again, egged on by her enthusiastic responses.
Right. Blame her, when what drove you was your own selfish need. You might talk the talk but underneath are you any better than your father?
Benedikt winced as he nicked his throat, dark red blood welling against white foam.
That was what had catapulted him out of her bed. The fear that, despite the altruistic spin he put on his actions to protect the country, he was a chip off the old block. So intent on getting his own way that he saw others as necessary collateral damage.
Would Annalena really have been such a threat to the crown? He understood her well enough now to know she’d have abided by an agreement never to undermine his rule or that of his heirs.
Heirs.
His pulse quickened. Not because he was eager for kids, but imagining Annalena, rounded and ripe with his child. His visceral response was so profound he almost dropped the razor, finally collecting his wits and reaching for something to staunch the dribble of blood down his throat.
Despite the condoms it was possible he’d made her pregnant. They’d been very…enthusiastic and he’d enjoyed foreplay so much that at least once he’d been tardy putting on protection.
Yet he felt no panic, or sense of walls closing in as he had before when considering a family of his own.
Coming from a nightmare family situation, marriage and children had never appealed. Only the eventual need for a royal heir had made him consider taking a bride, hence his pragmatic interest in the Countess.
It wasn’t just that his father had been cruel. Even without that, his mother would have been desperately unhappy, in love initially at least with a man incapable of softer emotion.
As for raising children… He’d always thought bringing a child into an unhappy family was a crime.
He knew how a child could be used as both a hostage and a prize.
Then there was the question of whether he had what it took to be a good parent.
His father had been appalling and anything but a good role model and his mother, though she’d tried, hadn’t been able to make up for her husband.
Listen to yourself! It’s still all about you, isn’t it? What about Annalena and her needs?
He rinsed the razor then washed his face, blotting it with a towel.
He couldn’t give Annalena what she wanted. The full-time career to which she’d dedicated herself. A man who’d cherish her. She’d admitted when he’d first mentioned marriage that she’d hoped one day to find someone right for her. Benedikt knew that was code for love.
Pragmatic in other ways, she was still a romantic.
He didn’t trust love. He’d never seen it work. It had brought his mother only unhappiness. Even his much-admired grandfather had married a woman who’d helped him make his first million.
But Benedikt would do everything to make this new royal life as easy as possible for Annalena. He’d respect and trust her.
They’d be partners. Partners with benefits.
He’d find a way to make that enough for her.