“Softer than I imagined,” he murmured, realizing that his hand trembled.
Because he understood the gift Tansy was giving him, not just herself, not just her body, but a complete refutation of the marrow-deep loyalty she harbored for her princess. She was a woman of vast principle. He knew this. But for him, she was willing to sacrifice her own beliefs, her loyalty, everything.
And it wasn’t because he was king.
Other women had thrown themselves at him after he had taken the throne. Their avarice had been reflected in their glittering gazes, a lust for not just himself but the power he possessed. He hadn’t bedded a one of them.
The last pin was removed. Even this revelation was executed with typical Tansy care. The hairpins were laid in a tidy pile for easy retrieval later, just off the blankets.
“Will you let me tend you?” she asked.
He might have thought it the question of a servant but for the tone in her voice, the longing in her eyes. Maxim swallowed hard, feeling small for the first time in his life.
He nodded, relinquishing his hold on her breast, the cool, silken strands of her hair. “How would you have me?”
She cocked her head, practical even in seduction, and the urge to kiss her thundered through him. “Sit, I think. If it pleases you to do so, of course.”
He was damned glad she hadn’t called himYour Majesty. He might have lost control and pinned her to the floor, lifting up her skirts and burying his face in her cunny until she forgot all sense of formality and covered him in her sweet, dripping dew.
But he wanted to prolong this. They had time. He needed this time. It might be the last they had together before the inevitable, long journey to Varros.
So he gave her what she wished, settling on his arse, legs stretched before him. “Thus?”
“Yes.” She moved to his boots.
He wanted to tell her not to remove them, that it was beneath her.
But she glanced up at him shyly as she settled there. “Please. I want to.”
And damn it all to hell. He couldn’t speak past the longing clogging his throat. Shewantedto attend him. No one had done something for him because they wanted to in as long as he could recall. He inclined his head.
Another shy smile that settled behind his breastbone in a painful ache. And then her nimble fingers were at work, removing the boots with deft, efficient motions. He’d never in his life been incited by the mere act of removing his boots, but his cock was harder than iron by the time she had completed her task.
“Come here,” he said gruffly, hauling her into his lap without waiting for her response.
She was soft and womanly, her curves melting against him, her hands settling on his shoulders. Her lips came down on his. Greedy, hungry. He gave her his tongue, and she sucked on it as if she couldn’t get enough of him. All the pent-up longing exploded between them like fireworks careening into the night sky, booming and sparkling. In a flurry of movement,they divested each other of garments. Cravat, coat. Chemise, petticoats. Stockings, trousers, shirt.
Until there was nothing remaining but bare skin and Tansy was stretched beneath him on the soft nest of blankets he’d arranged for them, her unbound hair lustrous as it fanned over the feather pillow. Maxim settled between her thighs, spreading them wide with two flattened palms on either side, opening her to him. Pink, glistening folds greeted him, the taunt of her pouty little bud. He was going to lick and suck and fuck her until she forgot all the reasons why she was so determined to resist the inevitability of them together.
He was a starving man, and Tansy was the feast.
His tongue.
Oh heavens, histongue.
Tansy squirmed. She should be embarrassed. Ashamed. But Maxim’s handsome face was buried between her legs, and his mouth was performing wondrous feats upon her most sensitive places. It was difficult to form thought, let alone castigate herself. Instead, she surrendered, promising herself this would be the final time. That she would take the memory of these stolen moments and it would last her the rest of her life.
He licked up her center, his clever tongue playing over the nub of flesh her fingers found late at night when she was alone. And oh, how delicious it was. Beyond her most feverish imaginings. She had read about such acts, of course. But nothing could compare to the wicked glide of him over her. When his lips closed over her and he gave a hearty suck, she feared her head might fly from her body. The sound that escaped her was too loud.
He looked up, his lips wet with her essence. “Hush, sweeting. A bit quieter.”
He was right. She had no wish to bring the guards upon them.
“It’s so…” Her words trailed off as she failed to explain. So she pressed the back of her hand to her mouth instead, hoping to muffle any more inadvertent noises.
The smile he gave her was beautiful. “You like my mouth on you, don’t you?”
She nodded, her sex aching for him to continue his merciless torture.
