Chapter Seven #3
“A walk is hardly overdoing anything.” But she let him lead her back inside. Up to their wing. She could feel the stiffness enter his body, like knots tying in slow succession—tighter and tighter, until he stopped at her door.
He opened his mouth, no doubt to dismiss her. To find some excuse to put her off.
But this was the deal.
She opened the door to her set of rooms, curled her other hand in his sleeve so she could pull him in behind her.
He could have stopped. He was certainly bigger and stronger than her, but he didn’t pull back. Still, he looked uncomfortable as she closed the door behind him. Like he didn’t want to be here.
But here he was. He had agreed to this.
In the past, whenever he’d arrived for one of their appointments, it was usually late. She was usually already in bed…waiting, waiting, waiting. She’d always let him set the tone, and he’d always set it…carefully.
Seen to her pleasure, his. It had been enjoyable, but it had not been like that day in his office because they had both known what it was about. Not pleasure. Not enjoyment. Not intimacy.
An heir.
This was different. It would be different. This was them—beyond their roles and their masks. Though, he would try to hold tight to his.
She faced him now, in the entry of her rooms. He stood stiffly. But stiff wouldn’t do.
So she wrapped her arms around his neck. His expression was cool, but she knew she just needed to learn where to look. He was not passionless. He was not unaffected. She would find the signal somewhere in him.
But right now, she would keep talking. She would talk and talk and talk. Let all those scary truths inside of her out until he saw her, until he trusted her enough to show himself. His true self.
“I was terrified of our wedding night,” she said, reveling in the feel of pressing her soft body to his hard one.
“Ines.”
It was a warning, but she was done heeding his warnings. “But you were gentle and kind. You promised you would do everything in your power not to hurt me, and I believed you. Because you had shown me nothing but kindness.”
“Yes, kind. I am kind. I get the picture.”
She laughed at the disgust in his voice.
Because he was so many things aside from kind, but that was what had allowed her to find some ease in this marriage in the beginning.
“I was so relieved. You could have been anything.” She moved to her toes, pressed a light kiss to his mouth.
“Cruel.” She kissed his chin. “Abusive.” The corner of his mouth.
“Arrogant and cutting.” She kissed him on the mouth, deeper this time, and his arms came around her.
“Dismissive. Horrible. You could have smelled like rotted fish.”
“I am a king, Ines.”
She smiled against his mouth. “You were a prince at the time, and I’m quite sure both could smell awful if they’ve a mind to. But you don’t. And didn’t. You were something good, and I promised myself in that moment that no matter what difficulties we faced, I would be grateful for that.”
His hold tightened for a moment, and not in any kind of sensual way. “So grateful you ran away?” he demanded gruffly. A little flare of temper in his eyes.
The edge in him thrilled her. She knew how hard he worked to keep that temper hidden. That she could bring it out meant something.
It simply had to mean something.
“The thing is you can’t live your life being grateful for crumbs. This is something I only began to realize when I saw there is more out there to have, more than just roles and games and being someone else’s pawn. I came to realize I wanted so much more than the crumbs.”
“You are a queen, Ines.”
“Yes, I am your queen.” She stepped back, trying not to grin when it clearly took him a minute to realize he needed to release her. When he did, she reached for the hem of her dress. It was a soft, stretchy fabric, easily pulled up and over her head.
His eyes raked over her as she dropped the dress to the floor, though he stayed stiff and still and where he was. A statue. A crown.
But underneath that beat the heart of a man. She wanted to show it to him. Again and again and again, until she got through to him. It would take time. He’d spent years building these walls. Hardening his heart. Protecting himself just as much as he protected everyone else.
But she had time. Months. She would get through to him. Not just for herself. Not just for Alexandre. For their baby. For their family.
“I have no regrets, Alexandre. You have been more than I could have ever hoped for when my father said he had found me a husband.” She crossed to him, reached up and began to unbutton his shirt.
“Why are you trying to make me out to sound—”
“Good? Noble?” She met his gaze.
His breath shuddered out as her hands slid over the expanse of skin she’d exposed by unbuttoning his shirt. “Yes. That.”
She pressed a kiss to the underside of his jaw.
Always in search of some spot he might have missed with his ruthless razor.
But he was always perfect, wasn’t he? She let her hands explore the hard, tense muscles of his chest and abdomen.
“Because you are both. You are also bad and selfish. And obnoxious and bossy. And honorable beyond reason. Handsome. Strong.”
“Ines.” He caught her wrists with his hands.
She looked up at him. “Because we’re all a mess of lots of things, don’t you think?”
His gaze was hard, his jaw clenched tight. “I most assuredly do not.”
She smiled at him, even though he was disagreeing with her. Because he was wrong, and she would prove it.
“If we are to do this,” he muttered, pulling her hands off his chest, “let us go to your bed.”
She shook her head. “No. No, I don’t think so. I know how that goes.”
His eyebrows drew together, as if he honestly didn’t know what she meant by that.
“You turn off the lights. You try to turn off…everything. Just get the job done.” She took his palm, pressed it against her stomach. “The job’s been done. This, tonight, and for the next few months isn’t a job. It is just us.”
“It is an action item on your to-do list, Ines.” He said it with his trademark cool disdain, but his warm palm remained on her stomach. And in his eyes, she saw that hint of something…hot over cold. Intent instead of detachment.
So she moved his hand down, to touch her where she ached for him. His gaze followed his hand, and then she did not need to guide it because he stroked, over the fabric of her underwear but exactly where she wanted to be touched.
Yes, she had missed this. The fires he could stoke within her. Because he was relentless in all things, even this. His fingers slid under the fabric to find her. The core of her. He knew just where to touch, where to apply pressure, how to find that first, throbbing peak.
She held on to his shoulders, her body a shuddering mass of what he always brought her.
But he was still standing there in control.
Maybe there was the flicker of something triumphant in his dark gaze.
Maybe she could see the outline of his arousal against his pants.
But she had not broken through that wall.
She would. She would. There was no point to being back here, to accepting that her runaway had done nothing, if she did not get through to him.
“Come, Ines.” It was not the dirty order she might like. He was trying to lead her to the bedroom. He wanted lights off, heart off, and she refused. So she did not let herself be pulled.
She unbuttoned and unzipped his pants quickly.
She was trembling and desperate for more.
More of him. More of everything. Once she managed to get his clothes off him, she pulled him to the ground.
Here in the pretty sitting room she took appointments in.
The light on. So she could see him. The ridges of muscle that tensed, contracted, jerked under her hands. Under her body as she straddled him.
His breath was ragged, but there was still distance in his eyes. It faltered when she gripped him, guided him to her. She wanted to see more than a falter. She wanted an obliteration.
So she moved against him in shallow, teasing strokes, not meant to do anything more than stir.
A hand came to her hip, clamped down, pulling her so that she had to sink down, sighing in contented pleasure to be filled by him once more. To be here, fighting for something rather than running away from all he couldn’t give her. And if he never did—
She stopped that thought in its tracks. She would only think in positives. And for now, the positive was the pleasure wrapping around her body. The intimacy of two bodies moving with the same purpose.
Intimacy—except, he was holding himself back. He was being so careful. Yes, he would give her pleasure. Yes, he would find his own. But there was that old wall between them. Like they were only bodies, nothing more.
She could not abide it. Not now that she knew there was some part of him that she could find if she broke down that wall.
She leaned forward, pressing her body to his, even with him lodged deep inside her. She pressed a kiss to his mouth, then dragged her lips to his ear.
“You do not have to be anyone but yourself with me,” she murmured there, before nipping at the lobe with her teeth. “Gentle. Rough. Sweet. Dirty. Whatever you are, I want that, Alex. Because I am yours.”