Chapter Eleven #2
Annalena gestured to his face. ‘That. Your frown when you had to kiss me. Your feelings were obvious, to me at least.’ She turned her palm towards him when he would have spoken.
‘I don’t mind that you don’t want me in that way.
But I’d rather you didn’t lie and pretend we’re anything more than partners in a cold-blooded, convenient match. ’
She hurried on, gesturing to the tray he’d brought. ‘I don’t want champagne and midnight seduction, especially from a man who’s not attracted to me. But give me time and I’m sure we can develop a good working relationship.’
‘You read all that into a single frown?’
She shrugged. ‘A frown you were quick to hide. I understand that. I know the kiss was just for show. But that expression was real .’
Benedikt moved closer, his face sombre. ‘You’re right. It was.’
Crazy how the confirmation felt like a punch to the chest. She felt winded, bracing her hands between the deep V of her neckline and her stomach. The sumptuous embroidery covering her bodice scratched her palms.
‘I wasn’t happy,’ he went on with a bluntness that made her want to cringe. ‘Because when you turned to me your expression gave you away. You held yourself like some stoic martyr, like a virgin about to be ravished. As if you couldn’t bear my touch.’
Her breath hissed. Did he somehow know she was a virgin? Impossible.
‘I thought we’d moved past that, Annalena. Our kiss the night of the ball proved that however much our actions are driven by duty, there’s something personal here too.’
‘All that kiss proved was that you’re willing to use your…wiles to get what you want.’
One dark eyebrow shot high. ‘Wiles?’
‘You know what I mean. You’re a good-looking man and know your way around women. That doesn’t mean you were invested in the kiss, any more than I was.’
He studied her intently and a tide of heat rose over her breasts and throat.
‘You’re lying again. Just like you lied when you said you were tired.’
His words scratched her pride. Since when had she resorted to untruths? She’d been brought up to value honesty and honour.
Fury and frustration at herself bubbled so high it felt as though her skin was too tight to contain her feelings. She’d gone into this with her eyes open but tonight everything felt twisted and wrong. As if she were in danger of being overwhelmed.
‘You want honesty? I honestly want you to leave this minute.’
‘Because you think I don’t want you.’ Did the gold flecks in his eyes flare brighter? ‘Because if I kiss you, you’ll think I’m using wiles .’
Behind that serious expression he was laughing at her, she knew it. Annalena stalked across the space between them, getting in his face, releasing the pure blaze of anger that had burned for weeks.
‘Don’t mock me, Benedikt.’
She glared up at him, hating the sharp pang of appreciation at his sheer magnetism. Even now it tugged at something deep-seated and needy inside her.
His eyes danced and his mouth curved into a hard, tight smile that looked edgy and, if she didn’t know better…ravenous. Instead of being cowed, she felt excitement stir. As if she welcomed the fact he wasn’t so sanguine now.
‘I wouldn’t dare mock, Annalena. But you’ve accused me of lying and I can’t let that stand.’ He spread his hands, shoulders lifting. ‘I can’t convince you with words and I can’t convince you with a kiss.’
His gaze zeroed in on her mouth and she had to resist the urgent need to moisten her lips.
‘How can I show you that I want you, Annalena? Not just as a queen but a woman? Perhaps with this?’
Before she had time to register his intent, long fingers curled around her hand, pulling it down between them. Down to his groin.
He pressed her palm to the front of his dark trousers, against the long, rigid heat of an erection.
Annalena dragged in a stunned breath as her hand instinctively curled around him. Her grip firmed and she felt an answering throb.
Fascinated, she raised rounded eyes to his. ‘Satisfied? That’s one thing I can’t feign. My wiles don’t stretch that far.’ That smile looked more like a grimace now. ‘Just so we’re absolutely clear, I want you. In my bed.’
Rocked to her core, she planted her other hand on his chest for balance, only to discover his heartbeat, pounding fast like hers. Fire pinpricked her skin as she surveyed that proud, angry face and felt his body’s reaction. To her .
It felt glorious, right that they were in this together. This had nothing to do with duty. Seeing him grapple with the same desire evoked a pang of tenderness that only amplified her response to him.
Her legs were wobbly and there was a melting sensation low in her body. She shifted, realising the strip of silk and lace between her legs was wet with arousal.
‘Nothing to say, Annalena?’
He spoke through clenched teeth, like a man struggling for control, which made her realise she should release her hold.
But she didn’t want to. For the first time in her life she wanted to take a step she’d avoided since she was old enough to understand desire could be dangerous.
Instead of nerves she felt only anticipation, as if she’d waited for this moment. This man.
Rather than releasing him, she slid her hand lower, squeezing gently.
Colour streaked his high-cut cheekbones and his eyes glittered more gold than brown. His hips rocked forward in an explicit thrust.
‘You want me.’ The words tasted wonderful. ‘I like that.’
A laugh cracked the taut air between them. His eyes blazed with approval but at the same time she saw his jaw clench, a muscle spasming.
Reluctantly she let him go, fingers twitching as she took a half-step back. Needing a second to absorb the enormity of the moment.
‘And you want me.’
It was a statement not a question, and she nodded. They’d gone past prevarication and point scoring. Only honesty would do. ‘Yes. I’m…curious.’
And awestruck. Excited and nervous. But above all she wanted more of Benedikt. Avoiding him wasn’t possible. Abstinence made her a wreck. The need in her was too strong.
‘We can work with curious.’ He paused. ‘If you agree.’
No sign now of that fierce amusement. His expression was grave.
‘We’re partners, Annalena. Husband and wife. We’ve committed our lives to our nation. Love isn’t on the table. But there’s respect and attraction. We’re entitled to find what pleasure we can in a marriage neither of us sought.’
As he spoke he lifted his hand to trail his knuckles down her cheek. Annalena exhaled, turning into his touch, relieved as the barriers tumbled. This truth she could deal with. ‘Yes. We’re entitled to that.’
Because it was mutual passion, not one-sided yearning, which she couldn’t have borne. She ignored the blip of her heartbeat when he’d acknowledged love was an impossibility.
‘Respect and passion sound good to me.’ She pressed her mouth to his knuckles, delighting in this connection between them.
‘In that case…’
He drew her hard against him with one arm wrapped around her waist.
‘I suppose you have no idea how you’ve tantalised me in this dress.’ His gaze dropped to the narrow V of her neckline that plunged between her breasts. His stare shot fire into her blood and made her push her shoulders back. ‘I thought brides were supposed to be demure.’
‘I didn’t want to look dowdy.’ Especially when she’d feared some would expect that. ‘My designer friend had this amazing design she said would be perfect, formal but feminine.’
Heavy ivory satin dropped in folds to the floor. Long sleeves fell in pleats that became soft, belling folds. A high collar plunged to a deep opening between her breasts and the whole bodice, which arrowed down to her abdomen in an almost mediaeval style, was heavily embroidered.
It was unlike anything she’d ever worn and she loved it. Wearing it made her feel feminine and powerful.
Especially when Benedikt looked at her like that, his gaze eating her up.
‘She was right. It’s perfect.’
His voice was gravel and had the same effect as flint striking stone.
Sparks ignited across her skin. His hand dropped from her face to her collarbone and her breath stopped as skin met skin.
Slowly his palm slid lower, the weight of it delicious.
When he reached the place between her breasts he splayed his fingers.
‘There’s tape there,’ she explained as he met resistance. But she needn’t have worried. He found the double-sided tape that kept her breasts fully covered and deftly stripped it free.
Hadn’t she said he knew his way around women?
Annalena sighed as her unfettered breasts eased towards the opening while Benedikt explored. Teased, more like. He stroked the inner curve of each breast, stretching his fingers under the fabric but not quite far enough to reach her pebbled nipples.
She grabbed his shoulders as arousal quaked through her.
‘You like that, Annalena? What about this?’
He bent to kiss from her collarbone to her breasts. His tongue caressed the tender, sensitive skin bared to his caress, trailing ribbons of fire wherever he touched and making her hands clench into his shoulders.
She wanted him to touch her like that everywhere.
All too soon he stopped. Yet instead of rising to possess her mouth, Benedikt dropped to his knees. Pure gold gleamed in eyes that regarded her steadily while he grabbed the voluminous skirt, bunching it up her shins, to her knees, then higher.
Her breasts rose on a snatched breath as his smile became a devilish grin. Breathless, she watched him skim his mouth over her inner thighs.
It was the most decadent thing she’d ever experienced. Even through sheer pantyhose, the touch of his mouth to her trembling thigh created a jolt of lightning, driving down through her body.
Her fingers curled into his shoulders as he pushed the heavy skirt up to her abdomen. Now his gaze wasn’t on her face. From this angle his honed features looked taut, the pulse at his neck jumping as he surveyed what he’d bared.
‘Push down your pantyhose, Annalena.’
It sounded like an order in that roughened voice and for once she didn’t think to object. Excitement burred through her.
Wordlessly she hooked her thumbs through the waistband and slid the tights down.
‘And the rest. I want you bare.’ Though she wanted that too, hearing him spell it out made her pause for a millisecond. Instantly he looked up and what she saw in his face told her his brusque tone had more to do with his own excitement than the need to give orders. ‘Please.’
She swallowed the knot clogging her throat and hooked her fingers into lace and silk, dragging pantyhose and underwear together down her thighs.
But when she would have lifted one knee to free herself he stopped her.
Not with words but the simple act of leaning in to brush his mouth across her thatch of blonde hair.
Annalena jumped and clung to his shoulders, her knees wobbling.
‘You smell so good.’
The words vibrated against her skin, making her twitch and widen her stance, only to be stopped by the restriction of the tights above her knees. She should feel foolish standing, half undressed. Or embarrassed with Benedikt nuzzling her there .
She felt nothing of the kind. She liked it.
Cogent thought frayed when he adjusted his grip on her skirt so he could explore her folds with one hand while he kissed her.
Lips pressed as fingers stroked and her hips bucked. Annalena felt his smile but before she could react, his tongue followed the same route, pausing to swirl and press.
She gasped, a raw, keening sound that made the hairs on her nape stand up. Or perhaps that was because of where his fingers delved while his tongue worked that incredibly sensitive nub.
Her hands found his scalp, fingers in thick hair as if to stop him moving away. This was so amazing she didn’t want it to end, even as her pelvis rolled against his touch, meeting his stroking.
She shuddered as delight bombarded her. Instinct, formed by a life governed by duty and work, told her anything that felt so impossibly wonderful had to be dangerous. Eyes she hadn’t remembered closing fluttered open to discover Benedikt looking up at her.
She gasped, undone by the blast of emotion that hit her as she met that molten stare.
‘Come for me, Annalena. Let go.’
How she wanted to. Yet some stubborn part of her resisted. It was only as he caressed her again and her hips rolled in response that she saw a flicker of movement in the corner of her eye.
Lifting her head, she caught a reflection in the antique mirror. A woman, mouth open and red-cheeked, hands clamped on the man kneeling before her, his head dark against bare skin and ivory satin.
Shock exploded as she saw him bend closer, his hand moving between her legs. She’d never seen anything, experienced anything so…
‘Benedikt!’
Her cry went on and on, primal and triumphant as her body exploded in a climax unlike anything she’d known. Colours burst against closed eyelids. Showers of gold and silver rained down, molten. She felt the climax deep in her body as she rode his hand through the final, desperate throes of delight.
Ages later she was aware of her fingers tight in his hair and the hot, moist touch of his breath against her thigh. There were words too, murmured words she couldn’t make out but which sounded like praise and gentling noises designed to soothe.
She didn’t need soothing. Despite the rackety beat of her heart she felt lax as if every bone and muscle melted. Her legs gave way. ‘Benedikt.’ Her voice was unrecognisable. ‘I need…’
He read her body quickly. An instant later he was on his feet, scooping her against his chest. His eyes glowed and his smiling mouth was wet with the taste of her. The sight of him made something roll over in her chest.
‘I know. It’s time to find a bed.’