“Fuck yeah.” He withdrew from her then plunged into her pussy one more time, deeper than he’d ever been. She mellowed, the mix of pleasure and pain making her lightheaded. And he emptied himself, spurts of hot load filling her.
She let her head fall on the edge, barely registering the kiss he planted on her shoulder. Her body still trembled. A body, according to him, made for this. Made for him.
Apprehension clogged her throat. Was this kind of romantic nonsense what convinced Mary to travel so far for love? To hear nice words even if they were meaningless? No. She cleared her throat. Mary had believed in them.
I can’t afford to make the same mistake.
Chapter Six
Nassor tilted the crown on his head, feeling every ounce of the pure gold with encrusted precious stones.
He scanned the large crowd, many of whom had camped outside the palace for a day or so to catch a glimpse of the new king. The collar of the red ceremonial robe tightened around his neck, and he reached for it, discreetly, tugging just enough for a long exhale.
All those people counted on him to give them a better future. His throat thickened, his shoulders tightening with the weight of new responsibilities. Many cameras flashed at him, and he gave them a reassuring smile. Inside, he mourned the death of his private life as a man, but outside he had to celebrate his new position as king.
The entire day had been hectic, packed with a long list of rituals and activities. Dignitaries and nobility from all over the world attended the event and vied for his attention, calling his name and waving at every opportunity.
His uncle had made his announcement brief and gave him his blessing.
For the evening festivities, most attendees consisted of international guests and VIPs.
After a well-known local band started playing music, he sighed, searching for Izzy in the crowd. When he found her, sitting in the third row, peering at him, the air left the room. His body was tired, and a silly sensation, warm and carefree, swirled around him. He wished he could bypass all the people whose hands he needed to shake and run to her and forgo the dancing in the ballroom next door.
His mother gently nudged his elbow. “Honey. Please meet Morowa Peete.”
He cocked his head to find a stunning woman next to his mother. He’d seen her a couple of times at other events, always leaving a trail of admirers behind. Tall and slim, with a gorgeous dark complexion and braided hair, Morowa’s beauty stopped men in their tracks. Tonight, plenty of jewelry and an over-the-top golden dress adorned her. “Hello. Nice to see you.”
She bowed to him, then flashed him a smile. “Thank you for having me for the dance. Congratulations, my king,” she said. “A new day begins.”
“Thank you.”
“A new day indeed,” his mother said, blinking at Morowa.
Jesus. Did his mother have to be so obvious?
“I hope you’ll give me the pleasure of a dance later,” Morowa said.
Annoyance pulsed in his throat, but he managed to say evenly, “You’re too kind.” As a new king without a wife, he could dance with several women, to at least show the crowd he intended on marrying soon.
Morowa flashed him another winning smile then sashayed away, and the line kept moving.
He gave his mother a sideways glance. “I told you no matchmaking yet.”
She angled closer. “This was a simple coincidence. Of course I’m not seeking people out, but you’re naive if you think women won’t pursue the opportunity now you’re a king.”
“Which doesn’t mean—”
Kesia lifted her hand to urge him to let her continue. “You don’t have to take any of them on dates. Just be cordial. The American girl will go home, but your life is here, my dear.”
He touched his collar, pulling at it, wishing he could just rip the fucking robe off and be comfortable for once. For the next several minutes he shook hands and small talked with the attendees. When Izzy crossed his path, his heart beat quickly, and that new sensation washed over him again. He bit back a smile. What the hell was happening to him?
At thirty years old, he was no longer naive enough to be smitten, particularly in these circumstances.
“Your Majesty,” she said, with a twinkle in her eyes. “You handled yourself very well. I’m sure you’ll handle the country in the same fashion.” She emphasized the word he’d used before they made love the previous night.
The robe tightened around him some more. “Which is?”
A shade of red stained her cheeks, and he had to control himself not to stroke them. The tips of his fingers tingled with the need for a touch, but he willed it away. One careless moment and people would suspect something—no one expected him to be celibate before his marriage, but Izzy stuck out in the crowd.
