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And it mattered to him. It mattered to him so much that he didn’t repeat the same mistakes his father did, but also, she suspected, it mattered to him that he didn’t care again only to be abandoned. So she poured commitment into that kiss. Everything she had, everything she was. And impossibly, she found herself aroused again. But it was different. This time, it wasn’t just about sex, wasn’t just about physical desire. It was about making a promise to him with her body.
They hadn’t known each other long. And sometimes she thought they didn’t know each other well, but she knew the essence of who he was. She knew the man he pretended to be, and she knew the one he was as he lay there injured. When he got to be Clem, and not a prince.
And very few other people knew that. She had met him simply as himself. Not with all of this pomp and circumstance. All the authority that he had been carrying then had simply come from within, not from a title bestowed upon him by men and a bloodline that stretched past generations.
She had seen him. In a way that likely few other people ever got to.
And this time, he picked her up and carried her to the bed, laying her down in the center of the soft mattress. This felt like a wedding night.
Her heart felt tender, sore. She looked up at him, and she knew.
She knew what she felt. She’d been trying to tell herself it wasn’t love. She’d been trying to tell herself that it wasn’t anything half so dramatic.
But it was. Because she was. She was utterly and completely undone by this, and by him. By the certainty that she knew him. They had nearly died together. And now they could choose to live together. But they were going to have to choose it. He was still afraid, she was too. She didn’t know what that meant. As far as where they could get to, how far they could go, she didn’t have a clue.
But she wanted to try. She didn’t want to close herself off out of fear. It would be like…never flying again because of what happened. It would be like sitting down in a chair and fading away into nothing.
Her heart nearly broke. Because she loved her father more than anything, but she also knew that when it came right down to it, not chasing after this with Adonis was doing what her father had done, if only prematurely. And she never would. That was her vow.
She wanted to live. Right now, she felt like she wanted to live a life with Adonis. But she couldn’t control him. She couldn’t control what he did, she couldn’t control what he felt. She didn’t have that kind of power.
But she had strength. She had to trust that. Had to trust herself.
To be strong, even if she had to go through a heartbreak.
To try, even if there was no guarantee of success.
Maybe, all along, she didn’t have to wait to be wanted enough, or for somebody to prove to her she was special. Maybe she simply needed to believe that she was.
She took her clothes off again, in as big of a hurry as she had been the first time. And he removed his. Having her body pressed to his as they lay in the bed was…luxury.
Being held by him was a luxury.
She had never known a man like him. She had never known anyone like him. His kisses consumed her, and she consumed him right back.
His hands traced magic over her skin, and she maneuvered herself so that she was on top of him. She kissed his neck, his chest, moved down and examined that full, glorious masculinity of his. Then she leaned in, tasting him, testing him with her mouth.
He groaned, his hand going to her hair. She felt strong, powerful, even in the subservient position. Because he wanted her, and that was her power. It was her strength.
She could keep him with her. Could keep him interested. As long as they had this.
She moved her tongue over him, relishing the salty, masculine flavor. Then she took him into her mouth, her whole body alight with need for him.
She moved over the top of him as he was coming to the end of his control, and captured his lips. He gripped her hips, and positioned her over his arousal. She impaled herself on him, no longer the shy, tentative virgin she had been the first time she had ridden astride him.
She rode him as the storm consumed them both. As his hold tightened on her, and release began to build at her core.
And then when they found it together, they cried out in unison, united at least in this. And she knew that she could never let him withdraw from their physical pleasure. Because even if she had trouble reaching him through conversation, through romance, she knew she could always find him here.
She lay over his chest, breathing hard. She loved him.
He was going to be her husband. And that mattered so much more than the fact that she was going to be princess.
Finally, Stevie felt like she had found herself in the middle of the storm. And she was very, very grateful to discover that it turned out she was strong, special and complete all on her own.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Acoupleofdays after their torrential coming together in the library, and their following encounter in his room, it was time to announce their engagement to the world.