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And they slept every night wrapped up in each other, like puzzle pieces finally snapping into place.

“I can’t decide if you’re wildly controlling or delightfully devoted,” she said on one of those nights.

He had insisted she sit in the bath. Then he’d carried her out so he could lay her out on the cozy rug before her fireplace. Then he’d helped himself to his favorite dessert before dinner, draping her legs over his shoulders and licking his way into all of that soft heat of hers.

When she went to reciprocate, he waved her away and called for their meal instead. Because he liked to watch her eat. He liked to choose the things she ate, and was always pleased when he accurately predicted what she would like.

Saviero found he liked to wrap her in that robe of hers. Or dry her off with a fluffy towel. He always liked to wash her hair and tuck it into the smaller towel she liked best when she was letting it dry naturally.

He liked control, yes. But he liked serving her, too. Bodily.

This particular night, she was dreamy-eyed and curled up on the sofa near the fire, picking at the meal he arranged.

“How are you finding your reign thus far, Your Majesty?” he asked.

She was naked beneath her robe. He had pulled on a pair of lounging pants. And yet, as ever, he was hungry for more. He was always hungry for more.

Cesca was considering his question. “I never wanted to be Queen,” she said after a moment, still picking at her plate. She set her fork down. “Now that I’ve had a few days to process everything, I still can’t say it’s something I would have chosen.” Her gaze found his, a hit of all that direct dark hazel. “I’m not certain I like the pressure of having to make decisions that affect so many lives. But I’m also surprised to find that it really does feel…doable.” Her smile was self-deprecating. “I think I expected to feel so out of my depth, so paralyzed, that I wouldn’t be able to function. Maybe that’s coming in the new year.”

Saviero shook his head. “I don’t think so. For one thing, you’re not attempting to take on this role while lost in the haze of grief at the loss of the previous occupant. I think that colors the experience.”

“Poor Vesuvius,” Cesca said with a sigh. “I can’t imagine. I’m afraid I was so focused on my own grief then that I didn’t pay close enough attention to his.”

Saviero did not point out that she had been a child then. And more, that she would have had no reason to assume she would ever have the experience of assuming the throne herself.

“It is certainly a more somber experience,” Saviero told her now. “And, I think, there is always deep concern about preserving the legacy of the previous monarch.”

“I’m sure that my brother knows that he will be remembered chiefly for leaving the throne,” Cesca said then, matter-of-factly. “I don’t think that’s fair, so we’ll have to see how we can change that perception over time.” She smiled again. “I suppose that depends on how well I do the job.”

“I have absolutely no doubt that you will be the very best Queen this kingdom has ever seen,” Saviero told her. And meant it.

And was further delighted when she set her plate aside and slid off the couch to come to her knees before him.

“Do I have to ask you for permission to touch you?” she asked, her eyes sparkling. “Because I would very much like to do so.”

Saviero smiled, and beckoned for her to draw near. “In this case, Francesca, I will allow it.”

Then he propped himself up on his elbows as the Queen crawled over him, reached into his loose trousers, and pulled out his cock.

Then, settled herself there, where she could take him in her mouth. Where she made him groan, and hummed out her own pleasure as he sank his hands into her hair, and kept going until he released himself deep into her throat.

Later that night, he woke up and reached for her, rolling her beneath him in her bed and making them both sigh. Then groan together as they surged together in the dark.

And when morning came, she was still there, for the first time since their wedding.

Curled up next to him and still fast asleep, as if she trusted him most in all the world.

Saviero gazed down at her head on his arm, and reached over to curl a strand of her hair around his finger. And he thought that despite the way they’d begun, what felt like a lifetime ago though it was only a few days, that there was no possible way this wasn’t going to work out beautifully.

They would run the kingdom together. They would satisfy each other in the bedroom. They would get along perfectly well.

Exactly as planned.

CHAPTER NINE

CESCA USUALLY SPENT the week between Christmas and New Year’s in a state of absolute disarray. She followed parties around the globe, slept very little, and nursed a great many hangovers. After the rave in the club here in Liandero, her plan had been to show her face at her brother’s wedding, take the appropriate photographs, and then head off to a few days of a festival in Vancouver before hitting the New Year’s Eve scene in Los Angeles.

She wasn’t sure what it said about her, or the dramatic shift in her priorities, but she didn’t miss any of that the way she’d expected she would. In the few moments she’d had to think about the life she’d been living before Saviero had come and taken her out of that warehouse in Old Town.