Chapter Eight #2
The words were intimate and sensual, and she flashed to an alternate world that stretched out in her mind’s eye.
Under different circumstances, where he wasn’t driven by revenge and she wasn’t trying to get herself and her sister away from this world he lived in, he would have worshipped her.
She was almost sure he would, or he would if he was still anything like the teenager she once knew.
He would have treated her like she was his entire world every day.
A wave of sadness washed over her, and she reminded herself that it was useless to invent these alternate histories.
This was the reality they were living in.
He wanted his revenge, and Livia’s sister needed her.
Still, she couldn’t stop herself from wondering what would have happened if they hadn’t taken the roads that they had.
Perhaps if she had listened instead of pushing him away so abruptly things might have turned out differently for them both.
She felt responsible for her part in turning the teenage Gustav into this hard man she was now married to.
Even if he shouldn’t have lied to her about his identity, she could have shown him a little more compassion.
“You look upset,” said Gustav, closer now, his voice gruff.
She shook her head and forced to smile. “What could possibly be wrong on our honeymoon?”
He narrowed his eyes but said nothing as he swam toward shore.
Livia focused on taking in what was in front of her, each powerful stroke Gustav took, the white sand beach and the pine forest that gave this little cove privacy.
Her feet hit the sand, and she waded to shore as Gustav hauled in their wares.
“Choose a spot,” he said and handed her a soft white blanket as he pulled the cooler onto the beach.
She lay the blanket close to the water’s edge and sat on it, letting the warm sun dry her skin.
He opened the cooler and took out a glass bottle filled with something pink, then poured it into a cup.
“It’s a drink made from elderflower and wild strawberries,” he said, handing her the glass.
She took a sip of the tart sweet drink and gazed up at the sky. “Do you come here every summer with friends? Girlfriends?”
He raised an eyebrow at this prying question about his past. Of course he had had girlfriends. Though Gustav usually stayed out of the spotlight, she had seen occasional photos of him.
“I made the mistake of bringing a girlfriend here once, but she wasn’t much for the water or the sand, and after that, I wasn’t much for her. I learned quickly that it was better not to bring anyone here.”
Livia raised her eyebrows. “So, this was a test for me?”
“Even if you failed, I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t have lost your appeal,” he said darkly, giving her a sidelong glance.
His words echoed between them, reminded her that she had failed him before.
Her previous betrayal had been far worse, and now they were married.
Livia flushed, and she felt something like shame.
She’d searched for a path back to steadier ground, and yet she found herself heading the opposite direction.
“Why are you so bent on revenge? Why all of this? Because if you really wanted to marry me, you could have asked years ago,” she said.
“After you turned on me because of who I was?”
She heard real hurt behind the sharp cut of his voice.
“Yes, I know I was unkind. I was angry that you withheld your identity from me. It felt like a lie of omission because you knew how I felt about royalty.” Livia frowned, and it felt as if her own wounds from eight years ago had opened again.
“Was the reveal another one of your tests? Because if you really cared about me, then why wouldn’t you come back and try again? Was it pride?”
She turned away. So much for the plan of keeping it all together and gently teasing out the answers she needed.
Gustav was quiet for a long time, and when she glanced over at him, his expression was unreadable.
He gazed out at the sea, glittering in the afternoon sun.
When he finally spoke, his voice was low and quiet.
“I can’t remember the first time I heard the term Bastard Spare, but I remember it came as no surprise.
That was exactly how my father treated me, so it felt more like putting a name to something that I already knew.
For my whole life, my brother and father barely spoke to me, and though I was given the very best of everything, it was clear that I was simply an off-brand replacement, a spare part if the first one stopped functioning.
Because of who I was born as. Not because of who I was on the inside or anything else about me. ”
And despite her anger, she felt the sadness of what he was saying.
“When we met, you had no idea who I was, and I’d like to think you liked me just fine that way.” Finally, he looked at her. “And yet the moment you found out who I was, everything was over.”
Livia felt her stomach drop.
“With my father and my brother, there were no illusions, but with you, I had hoped for something different.” He gave her a humorless smile. “But that’s in the past. I’ve adjusted my expectations.”
She felt the sting of it all, because everything he said was true. She had let him down.
“I’m sorry,” she said softly, because she had no defense. “I messed up.”
His expression softened, and he sat up and pressed his hand to her cheek.
It was such a familiar gesture, one she still remembered from all those years ago.
One that had left her reeling when he’d arrived at her doorstep.
And he looked at her with a strange burning in his eyes.
“We cannot change the past, but we all find ways to move on, do we not?”
She could feel the shift in his mood, and she knew exactly what he meant.
And though she told herself that intimacy was her most strategic move, deep inside, she knew her desire had nothing to do with strategy.
Suddenly, she was so hungry for him, so tired of this game that they were playing, the withholding of everything that made them vulnerable to one another.
She simply wanted him, so she parted her lips and closed the last distance to kiss him.
Gustav welcomed her. He tasted wet and salty, and the scent of pine clung to the scent of him, masculine and so sensual.
And then he was kissing her back, his hands on her cheeks, urging her closer, luring her in, and she didn’t care.
She wanted to feel his skin against hers.
He shifted, rising above her on the soft blanket, his hands greedy as he caressed the curve of her waist and tested the weight of her breasts.
His fingers brushed over her nipples, and she gasped.
None of her plans and calculations mattered. All that mattered was that she was kissing Gustav again, touching him. He settled on top of her, his broad chest heavy against her breasts, his hard length trapped between them, insistent, and she sighed and moaned.
Livia never wanted this to end.
Even that thought wasn’t enough to jolt her out of the haze of desire, not when he pulled back and trailed his kisses down her neck and over her breasts. Not when his hands teased lower on her stomach. Not when his mouth brushed against the tender skin just above her tiny red bikini bottoms.
“This,” he whispered as he kissed the scrap of material that covered her. “I want this.”
The demand rumbled from him, sending a sensual shock wave rippling through her body. His eyes were dark and possessive as he settled between her legs.
“You are mine,” he muttered, his breaths teasing the most sensitive places.
The words echoed through her, both a promise and a threat.
Her plea flashed through her—please don’t hurt me—but before she could open her lips to speak it, he moved aside the thin material of her suit and pressed a kiss between her legs.
She cried out, so he did it again. His mouth was possessive as he teased and taunted her.
Every stroke echoed with his words: You are mine.
He was worshipping her with his mouth in the most intimate way, and his groans of pleasure coursed through her until she was gasping and begging.
“Gustav. Please.”
Livia could have sworn that she heard his dark laughter as she fell over the edge into bliss.
* * *
They swam back to the boat in the late afternoon, and the crew picked up anchor as they lounged on the deck.
Gustav watched as Livia bit into a fresh strawberry.
Her hair was still wet from the swim, and as she leaned back on the bench, it dripped wet trails on the arm he rested behind her.
Desire was making him restless. The cold Baltic waters had temporarily eased the urgency of this constant need, but every brush of her soft skin, every wry smile she flashed at him stoked that same need to touch her again.
He wanted Livia. He wanted the woman who moaned when he kissed her, who cried out his name when his mouth was between her legs.
Who sometimes looked at him like he was the only thing that mattered.