Chapter Ten
CHAPTER TEN
I T FELT LIKE she barely got air back into her lungs when Jemima felt the delicious weight of his whipcord body pressing her into the bed.
Every inch of her soft, plush curves was dimpled and smudged by his spectacularly muscled planes.
His mouth found hers for a slow, deep kiss and filled her with her own tart taste, spinning her anew into another plane. “You unravel at my hands with such abandon, Jemima. I want to do it all over just so I can watch again.”
The sudden drag of his hair-roughened chest against the sensitive tips of her breast made her gasp. “I didn’t know it could be that…heavenly. Or is it the mortal man I should be thankful for?”
He grinned. “I’m glad to have satisfied my queen.”
She colored at his teasing. His steely shaft poked at her thigh and she rubbed at it, anticipation making her tremble again. “I want my prize.”
“Shall I take you now, Princess, when you’re all sated and boneless like this? Or should I drive you to the edge again?”
“I want to come again,” she said, nipping at his lower lip. “But I want to do it with you inside me. Shall we be ambitious, my king, and try for that? I’ve heard that you have an inordinate amount of liking for impossible feats.”
Such delight bloomed in his eyes that her heart spasmed in her chest. “How well you understand your husband already,” he said, nipping a line of kisses down her throat.
His tongue swirled around her breast, finally licking the engorged peak. Fresh sensations assailed her as he sucked at her nipple and then applied the same ministrations to her other breast. The deep pulls of his mouth sent twangs of sensation to her sex.
There was not a square inch of her that he didn’t kiss or taste or nip. And soon, Jemima was panting again, starting that inexorable climb toward another ecstatic shattering.
Her skin tingled, tears flew down her cheeks as he teased and teased, building her up all over again. Until she was so incredibly sensitive down there that even a breath of air made her sizzle.
Only when she dragged her nails over the taut skin of his shoulders, pulled at his head and begged him to take her, did he run the head of his shaft down her folds and thrust into her in one smooth stroke.
Pain spiked like a live flame for an instant and then slowly faded out as new sensations clamored to be felt. The heavy, aching fullness that came after was unlike anything Jemima had ever known and yet she wouldn’t trade her crown for it. They lay chest to chest and their hearts thumped in unison.
“Adonis,” she whispered, feeling an absurdly desperate need for more connection in that intimacy. A new kind of vulnerability seemed to fill her from inside out, just as he did.
His weight on one elbow, her husband stared down at her. Sweat pearled over his olive skin and in his eyes, a cavernous hunger lurked. For just a second, Jemima found herself utterly unequal to it and blinked rapidly to shy away from it.
The man didn’t miss anything. “There’s no way I could avoid hurting you that first time,” he said, mistaking her panic for pain. His thumb traced the fold of her hip and thigh, as if to soothe her. “I promise I won’t, ever again.”
“I know that,” she said, not hiding the awe in her voice. “I can’t believe you didn’t do this for so long.”
“What do you mean?” he rasped, shifting around her, rotating his hips in such a way that honeyed shivers sizzled down her spine. An earthy moan escaped her. Suddenly, she was desperate for him to move. Desperate to claim him as he had her.
“I cannot fathom the amount of control it would take to deny yourself. Especially when such temptation dogs your every step.” When he didn’t answer, she fidgeted under his heavy, drugged gaze. “I guess what I’m asking is why.”
A silky shoulder rose and fell and along with it came a slight but masterful thrust of his hips. As if to remind her she was pinned under him in every way.
Jemima writhed under him, needing friction at that place, and his eyes nearly blanked with pleasure before he said, “You ask too many questions and dictate too many conditions, wife.”
Laughing at his exaggerated tone, she licked at the seam of his mouth and when his tongue came to play, she tangled hers with it. The kiss deepened in mere breaths. His rough groan and rougher thrust had her nearly jumping out of her skin. “Please,” she said, panting now. “All I’m doing is trying to understand you.”
His gaze searched hers. “My excesses led me to despise myself, more than he despised me. One morning, when I woke up with a sour taste in my mouth, a pounding in my head and couldn’t remember how I ended up on the floor, I realized I was making everything he said about me true. I realized why Mama decided to punish him so and that I was his son, in the worst way possible. And that was…unbearable.”
Tears prickled behind her eyes for the torment and burden he still carried, but she knew instinctively that he would loathe her sympathy. Neither did she like it that she would never be able to take this pain from him. And she desperately wanted to, fool that she was.
With a forceful laugh, Jemima shook the useless tears off. “No more denying yourself then,” she said, nipping at his chin playfully. “Or me, rather. You have unleashed a wanton creature. I want this pleasure, this claiming over and over again.”
Utter glee transformed his face from godlike looks to boyish beauty. “I vow, Your Majesty—” he whispered the words into the skin over her breast, that tantalizing, teasing swivel of his clever hips, never entering fully or deeply, paving the steps to her unraveling “—to please you as and when you want. I’m utterly at your service.”
Jemima laced her fingers with his. “Tell me how it feels for you. Please.”
“You take me so well and clasp me so tight, Jem. As if you were the prize for my penance,” he said, nuzzling his nose at the arch of her neck. “So good that I don’t want this to end.”
Her shortened name sounded so sweet to her ears that she stroked her hands down his back with a greed she couldn’t hide.
“Oh, but I want the destination you promised me, again.” With that, she lifted her hips in an experimental thrust.
His shaft lodged deeper inside her, nudging at that very spot where heaven seemed to linger. With a moan, she did it, again and again, seeking friction. It sent them both arcing and shaking into each other, setting off a new explosion.
Jemima tried her best to keep her eyes open as Adonis moved over and inside her with a precise, calculating rhythm that was designed to maximize her pleasure.
But she no more wanted his finesse than she wanted his masks.
Clasping her feet around his bottom and meeting his thrusts, she urged him deeper and faster. He gave in with a curse, pistoning into her, his flesh slapping against hers and when it felt like he might carve a path to her very heart with his hard thrusts, Jemima’s climax drew her into another vortex. She spiraled and shattered into so many fragments and over her, Adonis let out a feral groan.
And then, with his mouth buried at her neck, his teeth grazing her skin none too gently, the Devil Prince unraveled. And a small part of him had become hers, Jemima decided, pressing her cheek against his.
* * *
May tumbled into June, stuttered into July, bringing with it the glorious but sticky splendor of summer to Thalassos. To escape the heat, Thalassans and visitors to the kingdom alike swarmed to the beaches for swimming and sailing and simply lounging on the golden sands.
The more daring ones, like His Majesty King Adonis Vasilikos, opted for cliff diving, or exploring the dangerous coves and caves that dotted the coastline. Apparently, when her husband had promised her that he would consider giving up his…dangerous addictions, he meant that he would pull back his stunts to the less dangerous tier first.
Shocking both the crown council and the rapacious media, he had settled into his duties as the King surprisingly well. Not that it surprised Jemima at all.
Despite how he had been taught to view himself at an early age, her husband was a man of great thinking and daring. He also understood human nature well, better than any politician Jemima had ever encountered, and employed it to guide his negotiations strategically.
In just six weeks of his reign, not only had he signed a new trade treaty with Ephyra—dictating better terms than the previous one for Thalassos—but was already in talks for new business ventures for both countries. Despite most of his naysayers commenting on the fact that Thalassos and Ephyra had shared a contentious relationship for centuries, which King Aristos had tried to settle—in the worst way possible, by arranging a match between Adonis and the current queen years ago.
Like Adonis, Queen Calista hadn’t been for the match at all, knowing that King Aristos planned to absorb Ephyra into Thalassos gradually, with his spare son as its new king. That Adonis had defied the King who had commanded him to make the match had been public knowledge. But now, knowing the basis of the rift between him and his father, she couldn’t believe how he had withstood the offer of gaining his father’s approval and affection, in addition to the keys to a bloody kingdom. When it was the very thing her husband wanted, despite the mask he presented the world.
One night, when they both lay panting after he’d taken her hard and fast after a day of stressful negotiations with Ephyra’s own cabinet, the words had tumbled out of her mouth. “Why did you refuse Queen Calista’s hand? It would have given you everything you ever wanted—your own kingdom to rule, a beautiful consort, and… King Aristos’s approval.”
He had stilled so suddenly that every nerve in her sated body had tightened painfully. Burying her face in the soft cotton, she bit her tongue. Even braced for his retreat and an empty, cold bed for the rest of the night.
Her new husband indulged her every whim and desire—he even spent an hour every day with her brother, Zayn, playing and talking with the boy who had started calling him Ado, but his deepest wound was still forbidden grounds to her.
And it ate at her, that she couldn’t heal it for him, or at least, take the pain away for a while.
“You don’t have to answer that,” she whispered, trying to roll out from under his delicious weight. Years of trying to not anger her father had left her with an instinctive fear that she had crossed the line.
“No?” he said, throwing one muscled leg over her and arresting her retreat.
She shook her head and stared at this beautiful man who was slowly becoming the foundation of every truth and joy in her life. “I’m curious as to why you said no to the royal command, yes. But I won’t pay the price for it with your pain.”
A flicker of shock widened his gorgeous eyes. Gripping her hips, he pulled her closer and took her mouth in a kiss that spun dizzying joy into her senses. Was it reward or simply a need for deeper connection with her, she wondered. Would he admit it if it were the latter?
When she opened her eyes again, it was to discover that he had sat up on the bed and pulled her up with him.
Relief flooded her as she realized he wasn’t putting distance between them.
His gaze swept over her face with a curious expression. “I…knew, even before Adamos understood it, what my father’s plan was for Ephyra. I heard him say enough times, in outraged tones, that the tiny nation was no more a thorn in mighty Thalassos’s side. He meant to swallow it whole. And after his rejection of me all my life, I refused to follow his dictates and put that plan into motion. Even if that meant he would never accept me, as he declared minutes later. I had no choice then but to leave Thalassos because he actually banished me.”
Jemima pressed her cheek to his chest, clasping her hands around his waist. She wasn’t sure if she was comforting him or herself. “No wonder Queen Calista was looking at you like you were her favorite man in the entire world at the summit yesterday,” she said, managing to sound extra jealous. Not that she wasn’t.
“You are jealous,” he said, sounding…wary.
“Of any woman’s covetous gaze on my husband, yes. But it doesn’t mean I don’t know that I’m the only woman who has his gaze.”
Some of his tension deflated at her words and Jemima realized how much he needed to be trusted, to be seen as who he was—a man of integrity and principles, a man worthy of the crown. Not that he would ever ask for what he needed.
Although she was beginning to wonder if she and the crown of Thalassos were worthy of him.
“I think,” Adonis said, sifting his fingers through her tangled waves, “back then, Queen Calista appreciated the fact that she didn’t have to be the one to do the rejection. Neither was she unaware of my father’s devious plans from the start.”
Now, years later, Adonis had once again maneuvered the land mine with Ephyra—which had been brought to the cusp of war by the power-hungry crown council, with diplomacy and sheer honesty.
Weeks later, Jemima was still filled with admiration at not just his innovative approach but his plain decency toward a young queen.
Then there was the fact that even as he settled into the mantle of the crown better and better with each passing day, Adonis hadn’t once dismissed her opinions as extraneous or unnecessary. Hadn’t viewed her as an accessory.
A part of Jemima kept waiting for the other shoe to drop on their relationship, for him to render himself like any other man she had known—made of fragile ego and more than willing to punch down.
While the other part of her knew that she was already forging down a path from which there was no return.
* * *
A week later, having discharged Zayn to his young nurse and dismissed her own aides, Jemima was studying her schedule for the next two weeks and trying to not fall asleep when someone grabbed the papers from her and pulled her to her feet.
“I’m going to pass a new law soon,” her husband whispered at her temple, laughter dancing in his tone. “You look like a delicious dessert in that pink dress, my lady. And your king is hungry.”
Jemima had hoped he would notice how the pink complemented her coloring. And Adonis always delivered. “What law?” she said past the breathy anticipation that inflated inside of her.
The familiar scent of cedar and rain enveloped her and she gave herself over—body and mind, into his capable hands, wrapping her arms around his neck like tentacles. Clinging to him like Zayn did when it was time to bid good-night.
His broad palm spread over her lower back, the tips reaching her buttocks. “No overworking for my queen. And if she continues in this way, I’ll say off with the heads of the staff that supply her with it.”
When she scoffed and refused to meet his eyes, his words turned stern. “I’m not joking, Jemima. The reports I receive from your aides every evening of how much paperwork you’ve gone through that day, making notes for me…even the puffed-up staff is awed by you. You work too much.”
“I like working. I like being useful and…proving my worth to you,” she said, the words flying off her lips. Still, she refused to meet his eyes. Pressing her cheek to his chest, she reveled in the steady beat of his heart.
A sudden realization—one that she had been fighting for days now, burst into her awareness, flooding her with a sudden onslaught of emotion. Burrowing closer, she shuddered in its wake.
Instantly, Adonis’s arm tightened around her waist while the other tipped her chin up to study her. His blue eyes dug into hers, as if he meant to see to her soul. And what would he find there but her growing…regard for him, she thought tremulously. “You have nothing to prove to me or Thalassos or your bloody father, Jem. I wish…” Frustration rippled through his lean body. “I could make you see yourself through my eyes.”
She opened her eyes and met his then, desperate to see a fraction of what she felt for him reflected in the blue depths.
“What?” he said, aware of the tiniest shifts in her mood.
“You look…happy today,” she said, pulling out of his arms. Not knowing why she was pushing aside the confession she needed to make.
Suddenly, she had a feeling that everything he had given her, everything she had with him wasn’t enough. She was the bloody Queen of Thalassos, wife to the Devil Prince and yet she wanted more. She wanted the one thing she might not get…his undying love. The deep care and connection that she was beginning to see he was capable of.
She wanted to be his most dangerous risk and his most fulfilling reward. And she wanted this gorgeous, wonderful man to be hers, completely.
“I do have some good news,” he said, pulling her toward the private terrace.
Summer nights in Thalassos were near-magical, with gentle breezes blowing in from the ocean, providing a welcome relief from the heat of the day. At this particular terrace which was her favorite relaxing spot at the end of a long day, the intoxicating scents of jasmine and lavender rose up from the palace garden, heavily scenting the air, while the view of the city with its whitewashed buildings and open-air markets rooted her to the place.
It was only now, with this man beside her changing her very outlook, that Jemima realized how much her father’s dictates, and Adamos’s apathy, had turned this paradise into prison. And with the foundation Adonis provided, how much she loved Thalassos.
“I have some news too,” she said, jumping into the fray.
His eyes flared in anticipation.
Clasping his jaw, she said, “But you go first.”
“I don’t have the documents in hand to give this moment the dramatics it deserves,” he said, pulling her into his lap on the chaise longue. Enveloped by his muscled warmth and masculine scent, she sank into him.
His tongue traced the shell of her ear, revving her up like a virtuoso tuning his instrument for a masterful performance. “I have a feeling you’re going to want to show your gratitude in a very effusive way, Princess.”
Her heart twisted in her chest, spewing words she couldn’t say. She settled for what was clear between them. “I think you know, Adonis,” she said, burying her face in the warm cavern of his neck, every cell in her wanting to burrow into him, creating a nest for herself deep in his heart, “that I would do anything to satisfy you in that arena. You only have to command me.”
Under her thighs, he rolled forward and back with a groan. His shaft turned rock-hard and her core pulsed emptily. “I don’t like the caveat ‘in that arena’, Jem.” Pure arrogance filled his tone before he let out a self-deprecating laugh. “But we will deal with that later. This afternoon, I met with your father and asked him to sign over Zayn’s custody to you.”
Jemima shot up so fast in his lap that she bumped her head hard against his chin. “You shouldn’t have.” Tears piled in her eyes, fueled by panic. “What…what did he say?”
“He insisted that I take custody of Zayn and he had a price for it.” Utter disgust filled Adonis’s voice. “And I paid it.”
“Was it…” Jemima had to swallow past the hard lump in her throat. Only being caught between the solid strength of his thighs stopped her knees from buckling completely. “I’m afraid to ask what it is.”
As if he knew where her fear dwelled, he patted her belly in soothing strokes. “It’s between him and me. You don’t need to worry about it, Jem. Remember that Zayn is ours now. And believe me when I say I have plans to strip everything from him.”
“No, Adonis,” she said, gripping his chin. “Don’t—”
“I didn’t think you weak enough to hold affection for a bully, Jem.” There was not an inch of give in his words and she wondered if he was talking about his father too. If he finally gave up on King Aristos and cut the last thread of bond connecting them, would he be stronger and healthier for it? Or would that part of him that loved his father forever be cauterized, leaving him unable to love anyone again?
The conundrum made fear spike through her.
“Jemima?”
“I don’t have lingering affection for him,” she said without hesitation. “He’s a spiteful man who tormented my mother. I just don’t want him to come for us. Especially when our family is growing.”
Adonis stilled, as if he’d been suddenly rendered into one of those marble busts littered about the palace. When Jemima looked into his eyes, it was to find disbelief and an ache flashing there.
“What are you…” he turned her to face him fully, his fingers gripping her arms painfully, “do you mean…”
It seemed he couldn’t finish the thought.
Jemima nodded. “My period is late by almost three weeks.”
He shot to his feet, nearly tumbling her to the cold marble floor in the process as he muttered, “And why the hell haven’t you consulted the palace physician for that long?” His hands instantly steadied her as she wobbled.
She tried for a shrug that didn’t quite materialize. “I…”
“Jem? Talk to me.”
Whatever he sensed in her, he gathered her to him in an embrace that brought tears to her eyes. “The first week, I just waited because you never know with my period.”
“And after that?” he prompted.
“After that, I was scared that it might not be what I thought. Then about how desperately I wanted it to be true.”
Jemima could feel his tension in the way his sinewed strength tightened against her, could see his confusion in how he tightened his jaw, as if he couldn’t betray himself in front of her.
“I…want this, Adonis,” she said, whispering the words into his chest. “So badly. I want this child, our child. I want this family we’re building. I want this more than anything I’ve ever wanted. And I’m afraid that it might all crumble into…dust.” Just speaking of it made her shiver.
“Don’t be afraid, yineka mou . I promise you, Jem, nothing will touch you or Zayn or us. Ever.” When she sniffled, his words turned stern again. “Be happy, agapi . That’s an order from your king, Jemima.”
What if it was you that ruined this? she wanted to say. You who won’t share your pain or your torment with me? You who took this kingdom on to prove that you belonged? You who cannot fully love me as I do you?
The unsaid words twisted her from inside out.
And when she couldn’t calm her thundering heart or the anxiety that surged up through her body, making her break out in shivers, he gave her the thing she needed.
His mouth. His kiss. His utter possession of her where no fear or worry or anticipatory tension for the future could touch her.
As he pushed her back into the lounge, pushing her thighs wide and burying his face between them, Jemima wondered if her king would always know what she needed. And if he would so readily offer it to her if he knew it was his heart she craved, with a scary intensity.
* * *
Bracing himself on his elbow, Adonis shifted to his side and studied the woman who had, in a bare seven weeks, transformed his life.
His queen. His wife. And now the mother of his growing child.
A sudden, overpowering emotion choked him with a forceful intensity as he planted his palm on her belly. He wanted to run away, escape the sheer overwhelming intensity of it.
He wanted to wake her up from her peaceful slumber and have her tell him, for the hundredth time, that it was true.
Instead, he pulled away from the yoke of her lush arms and the easy lure she cast and made his way to his private offices.
He might resist the urge to submerge the emotion that surged through him in some outrageous stunt, but he couldn’t let it own him either.