Chapter 9
As Santiago slipped into the solarium, he was grateful to see the door cracked and light spilling from her chambers.
Even one night away from her was too many, he had learned.
But sleeping in the barracks had taught him something else as well—Queen Katarine was beloved by her people.
They respected her and cherished her kindness and benevolence as their queen.
Santiago had also learned he could let no other man have such a prize. He would win or die trying.
The next stage of the contest—the test of will—could perhaps lead to death, as he had just learned they were each to spend the morrow preparing a boat to sail to the nearest island, which was three days in good wind; find a prize worthy of a queen; and sail back to Kataria.
All who made it in less than seven days would advance to the final stage of the contest—the day of wisdom.
He was chieftain of the Clan of Wind, and sailing was in his blood. He feared nothing, but he knew of the potential dangers that lay ahead.
As he slipped into her chambers, he was shocked to find her naked, hair already down and brushed, waiting for him in bed.
“My Chieftain, come.”
Santiago had come to pry out the words that prick of a prince had spoken to her, but that was immediately forgotten as he saw a veritable goddess waiting for him.
“My Queen,” he said as he dropped to his knees beside her bed and captured her hand to press a kiss to the back.
Her skin looked dusted with gold.
“What have you covered yourself in?”
“Honey powder. ’Tis good for the skin, they say.”
“You are already so sweet,” he whispered as he tasted it on his lips. “Now you will have me wanting to lick it from every inch of your skin.”
“I hoped you would say that.”
“My Queen, we must speak about earlier. Whatever the prince said—”
Katarine shook her head. “I don’t want to speak about another man while you’re in my bed. Do you?”
She had him there, and he knew that while she was right, she was also distracting him from the topic. He decided to let her.
“Never.”
“Then rise, My Chieftain, and join me. I have been lonely without you.”
This woman. He would sail like the wind. He would not lose her to another.
“Kiss me,” she said, and he climbed into bed beside her.
“I do not trust myself not to take you tonight, if I lie beside you.”
“Good. Because I need you. I don’t want to stop.”
“But my vow—”
“That was before. Don’t make me wait for the man I already know is meant for me.”
“But your mourning moons …”
“There is no rule against me taking a man to my bed. Simply against marrying until it concludes. This is my choice.”
“Thank God,” he whispered as he slid under the covers beside her.
Santiago’s body covered hers, like it had that first night, but this time, neither of them intended to stop.
He sucked her breasts, licking the honey powder from every inch of her, and she planned to do the same for any that transferred onto his swarthy skin.
He pressed her into the soft mattress, and she loved the weight of him.
“May I worship you the same way you did for me—thrice weekly?”
He smiled against her lips. “When we are wed, but not tonight. Tonight, I plan to spend inside you.”
Her hips lifted against the solid shaft of his cock.
“Finally. I need you. Please.” Katarine was willing to beg.
“This first time, we will not hurry. You deserve worship in all things, Katarine. Not a fumbling rush.”
“Can we at least rush to the part where you’re inside me?”
He chuckled against her mouth.
“No, my sweet. First, I must make up for lost time.” He trailed his lips down her chin, from one breast to the other, down her belly, until he was once again kneeling between her legs. “Thrice weekly at least,” he said before his mouth closed around her nether lips.
The sheer decadence of what this man could do with his lips and tongue was absolute madness.
Her body writhed with what felt like unending pleasure.
Katarine wanted to scream when the earth-shattering magnitude of intensity shredded her control, but she buried her face in a pillow to remain silent.
Otherwise, she was going to scream the whole palace down.
When his finger slid within her, she was gone. Her mind went blank, and all she knew was Santiago and the masterful way he could play her body.
Like he was strumming the chord of pleasure within her, Katarine came apart once more.
Except this time, instead of bowing and backing away, he used her own slickness on his hand to coat the jutting length of his member.
It was thick, long, and beautiful. As he stroked himself with her moisture, she had never felt more primally connected to anyone.
“Please,” she whispered. It was as if she’d waited lifetimes for this.
Santiago nodded and came over her, using one hand to guide the head of his rock-hard shaft to rest against her opening. Just the fullness of him there threatened to send Katarine over the edge once more.
“Are you sure?”
“Don’t make me wait another moment, let alone another week.”
“As you wish, My Queen.”
Santiago pressed forward, and the head of his cock was quickly strangled by her wet heat. She was snug after years without a man. Santiago didn’t care one bit what had come before him. He knew this woman would be his forevermore.
As he sank within her, Katarine leaned forward, her lips closing around his shoulder to keep from crying out her pleasure.
Within, her muscles fluttered and clamped tight around him as she climaxed. She was already over the edge, and he hadn’t even slid all the way home.
When he was finally seated within her, he stroked her hair.
“Are you all right?”
Her amethyst gaze was unfocused. “Why did we wait? Why did we deny ourselves this perfection?”
Santiago grinned. “I’ll take that to mean you want to keep going?”
“Yes!” She laughed. “Never stop.”
“While I wish that were an option, I can at least give you my best tonight, my love.”
It was an endearment that Santiago meant with all his heart. He began to move, and his queen wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him.
It was poetry in motion. Love made manifest. Pleasure turned to bliss as they rode the waves of ecstasy.
Santiago hadn’t known it could be like this. Not until Katarine.
It was everything. She was everything.
My Queen.
Thrust after thrust, he tunneled into her, reveling in the perfect fit of her body. She climaxed again and silenced her cries against his skin to keep the guardsmen from beating down the door.
When she finally went limp beneath him, her lips sliding off his chest, Santiago poured into her with a white-hot, mind-obliterating rush of heaven on earth.
Time stilled. Breaths stopped. Nothing existed except their two hearts beating in tandem.
With his queen wrapped in his arms, he pulled her on top of him and tugged the sheet to cover them both.
And together, they slept.