CHAPTER FOURTEEN #2
A beat of silence passed. The flakes of gold fell gently through the hourglass.
“In that case,” Maximus said. “How shall we spend our sixty seconds?”
A tiny smile tilted Daphne’s lips. Something inside Maximus awoke as she said, “You could undress.”
Time seemed to stop. The gold flakes continued to fall, but Maximus did not see them.
He couldn’t believe what he’d just heard.
On the list of scenarios he thought might occur in this library, the one Daphne had just proposed was certainly not one of them.
She couldn’t be serious. Surely, she was taunting him—tempting him.
It was only right, he supposed, after she’d been naked in his bathtub.
His throat was dry as he asked, “Is that really what you want?”
Daphne bit her lip. “Maybe.”
“If that’s what you want,” he said quietly, “you need only ask for it.”
He wanted to hear her say the words. If he was being honest, he wanted to hear her beg them. But they were already in unprecedented territory; Maximus felt as if he were standing on the edge of a cliff, preparing to fall. The only question was whether Daphne would push him.
“Max,” she whispered, and his heart slammed in his chest. “Will you undress for me?”
Nobody called him Max. Not even Lilibet.
She could have asked him to do anything, and he would have done it.
The fact that she’d asked him to do something so pleasurable was merely a bonus.
Undressing in front of Daphne was something he’d imagined many times before.
Of course, in his imagination, she was undressing too.
But if this was the only way he could access her—if this was the only bridge between them, he would cross it willingly.
Without a word, Maximus began to undress.
First he loosened his tie, pulling it from his throat with a single, smooth motion.
Then he removed his jacket, throwing it onto the chair.
Next were the buttons of his shirt, undone one by one.
Each movement felt as if it were completed in slow motion, as if he were undressing underwater.
There was an odd ringing in his ears. His heartbeat seemed suddenly loud.
Daphne watched it all, her eyes never leaving his.
Doing this for her was thrilling, to say the least—both a display of and a relinquishment of power.
It was intoxicating. Maximus wondered if she felt the same.
Did she really want to see him naked, or did she just want to see if he would grant her request?
In the end, it didn’t matter. It was a pleasure either way.
When he reached his trousers, Daphne blushed.
Maximus had never seen her blush before; it was an astonishing sight. Pink bloomed beneath her freckled cheeks, warming her face in the glow of the fire. He wanted to touch it—to brush his fingertips against it and take that color for himself. He wanted to kiss it, to taste it on his lips.
“Shall I go on?” Maximus whispered. The room was warm; flames flickered in the fireplace.
He stood perfectly still, his fingers poised at his waistband, holding Daphne’s gaze.
Her chin was still tilted defiantly upward, her lips pressed together.
She was so beautiful when she denied him.
Still, she remained silent. Even though she’d initiated this—even though she clearly wanted him to continue—he was going to have to push her.
“Say it, Daphne. Ask for it.”
She only pressed her lips together tighter.
Maximus knew why this was so difficult for her.
Daphne wasn’t willing to be vulnerable with him.
To be vulnerable—to voice her desires—was to admit defeat.
She had sworn she wouldn’t fall for him, yet the signs of it were everywhere.
He saw it in the way she looked at him; he felt it in the way her body angled toward his.
She was softening to him. He knew she was.
And he would not let her deny it any longer.
“Ask for it, and it’s yours.”
“Maybe I don’t want it.”
“Maybe you do.”
“Is that what your ego is telling you?”
“Perhaps my ego is right.”
He was still standing, still half-clothed, his fingers on the waist of his trousers.
Would she ever give in to him, this infernal fucking woman?
Maximus had never met anyone like her in his entire life.
As a royal, everyone catered to him. As the future king, even more so.
He was not used to hearing no; he was not used to anyone denying him.
Daphne needed to be outmaneuvered. The only way to get her to do anything was by a show of power, and it was high time he started wielding his.
He would make her wait. He would make her want.
“Tell me to keep going, and I will.”
The hourglass was out. Maximus did not care. His only focus was what was happening in this room. His only focus was her.
Daphne stared at him as if he were the only person on the planet.
Perhaps he was. There was no one but him, no one but her.
The rest of the kingdom no longer existed.
Maximus was only concerned with what was happening in this room, right here, right now.
He had no idea what he would do if she didn’t comply.
She could walk out right this moment if she wished.
There was no lock on the door—no true barrier to her escape.
But Daphne didn’t leave. She stood there, defiantly, and stared at him.
At last, she whispered, “Keep going.”
Her words were merely a breath. But Maximus would have heard them even in a crowded room. He would have heard them over the sound of an avalanche. It felt as if she’d spoken them directly into his ear. In a way, she practically did. They were only meant for him.
He kept going.
Maximus unfastened his trousers slowly, taking his fucking time. Daphne’s eyes trailed down his torso before landing on his completely hard cock. Her blush deepened. Maximus had never felt so alive.
“Do you want to touch me?” he whispered.
She bit her lip. It was practically bleeding. “Yes.”
Hope. “Are you going to?”
“No.”
Maximus wasn’t surprised. He wasn’t even disappointed. They’d already gone further tonight than he’d ever expected to get with Daphne. The memory of this interaction would feed him for a long time. Possibly forever. He wondered if it would feed her too.
“Daphne,” he said. Her eyes darted up to his. “Our time is up.”
It was true; the hourglass had run out.
She blinked slowly, as if she were waking up from a deep coma. “So?”
“So,” Maximus said. “Will you stay?”
He was daring her to deny that they had something worth staying for. If she really wanted to leave, she would have done so already. But she hadn’t. She’d stayed right here, rooted in place, staring at his cock. Staring at him.
The silence stretched on. His erection was nearly impossible to resist. He had never wanted to touch himself so badly in his entire life.
But to touch himself would be to let her win.
And this moment was bigger than him. So he simply stood there, staring right back at her, willing her to make a move.
“Yes,” she whispered.
A single word. His salvation. “Tell me what to do, Daphne.”
This time the silence did not last long. This time she raised her chin, looked him straight in the eye and said, “Touch yourself.”
It was the exact same order he’d given her in his bathroom.
Maximus wasn’t surprised, and he certainly wasn’t disappointed.
On the contrary, he was thrilled beyond belief to have an excuse to do the only thing he’d wanted to do since she stepped into the room.
He looked at her face, allowing his gaze to trail along her lips, to her neck, then down her body.
Without another moment’s hesitation, he grasped his cock and began to stroke.
Daphne held his gaze as he touched himself, as if looking him in the eye was more important than looking at his cock.
Maximus didn’t care where she looked. He didn’t hold back.
He touched himself exactly the way he would if she weren’t watching—exactly the way he did when he was alone in his bedroom thinking about her.
His cock was rigid in his hand—possibly the hardest it had ever been—the sensation of stroking it almost more painful than pleasurable.
Maximus pretended it was Daphne’s hand instead.
He pictured her in front of him, her body pressed against his, her palm rubbing, rubbing, rubbing.
He pictured other things too. He pictured her bent over the desk, her strappy dress on the floor, her ass against his thighs.
The thought was enough to take him there, but he resisted.
The moment he came, this would all be over.
So he drew it out, slowing down and savoring every second of this experience, forcing himself to exercise self-control.
Just when he had mastered his urges, Daphne whispered, “Faster.”
She was going to make this quite difficult, wasn’t she? It was as if she knew exactly how much he wanted to come. Perhaps she did. At this point, Maximus didn’t even care. If she wanted to direct him, he would let her. But only if she played by his rules.
“Come closer,” he said. “And I’ll go faster.”