Dieter breathed as he stroked into her, his breath warm on her neck.“Durchlauchtig.”
Yes, in his arms, his body moving in and above hers, his breath panting on her shoulder, she did feel like his queen, His Most Serene Highness. That silly nickname became charged, like whenever he called her hisDurchlauchtig,it would be a memory of this moment, when he had been her first, and he had become hereverything.
She whispered,“Lieblingwächter,”her made-up compound word that meantdarling guard,because he kept her safe, because she would always be safe in his arms.
When she moved her hips to meet him, he gasped, and his arms clenched around her as his body went rigid.
He held her until they both stopped shaking, and then he carefully washed her in his shower and wrapped his arms around her. He brushed her hair away from her face, toyed with the straps on her nightie, and told her how beautiful she was and that she washis,that night and always.
When he settled down to sleep, his arms loosened, but his hands remained clasped around her, embracing her.
Flicka couldn’t sleep.
She had thought she had a years-old teenage crush on Dieter Schwarz, her bodyguard, her older brother’s best friend.
She’d thought she could handle it, that she’d have a youthful fling and fondly remember him. The affair would probably even satisfy her crush, and then she’d be ready for the rest of her life.
Oh, God.
She couldn’t bear to move. She couldn’t think about leaving the next morning for class.
She was trying to memorize his soft breath on her shoulder and his skin on hers.
He gathered her closer, tucking her head under his chin, even in his sleep.
Her head lay on his chest.
His heart beat under her ear, a solid pulse of life.
She’d been dying for this moment her whole life.
