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‘Take down your hair,’ he instructed, wincing at his telltale huskiness.
‘Don’t get too used to giving orders. And shouldn’t you be undressing? Or would you like me to do that for you?’ She propped herself up against the bank of plump pillows.
So much for his wife being undone by bliss. His wife! That would take some getting used to.
But he could definitely get used to having her in his bed. Especially when she surveyed him with a glittering challenge that held neither anger nor doubt but pure sexual anticipation.
Benedikt lifted his hand to his shirt, undoing the studs as Annalena shuffled higher in the bed, her breasts jiggling invitingly. He fumbled, fingers seemingly too big and clumsy, so he grabbed both sides of the shirt and tugged. That was better. Cool air caressed overheated flesh as he shrugged free.
The look on Annalena’s face as she watched made him still for a second before reaching for his belt buckle. Her stare branded as surely as fire. That look—as if she’d never seen anything so good as his naked torso—ramped up the arousal he struggled to control.
She lifted her hands behind her head and her hair uncoiled, rolling down over one shoulder, past her breast, towards her waist. He swallowed over a scratchy lump in his throat.
Once more he was reminded of someone mediaeval. A maiden letting down her hair for a lover.
The eroticism of shining tresses against flushed feminine skin was new to him, a man experienced in the art of sex. Benedikt felt a beat of something harsh and unfamiliar, something dark and untamed. Sex had always been fun, a need, a release. Now he fought the idea it could be more.
Not because of her long hair. But because of the way each moment since he’d walked into her suite felt invested with deeper significance, a meaning he couldn’t quite grasp.
Now who’s letting weeks of stress affect them?
A frown wrinkled Annalena’s brow, her attention going to his groin and his half-undone belt buckle. ‘Why have you stopped?’
He smiled, taut facial muscles pulling. ‘I’m taking a moment to admire you.’
To his surprise, the colour in her throat and cheeks intensified. She looked delighted, as if she weren’t used to a lover’s compliments.
No time to ponder that. Benedikt stepped off the bed, stripping away shoes, socks and the last of his clothes, retrieving the condoms he’d shoved in a pocket.
‘You came prepared.’
He couldn’t decipher her tone and forbore to admit he’d been carrying condoms for weeks. He knew she’d viewed him as an opponent but he hadn’t been able to deny his rising hunger for her. Or the hope she’d admit to the attraction she’d been so determined to repudiate.
‘I assumed you weren’t ready to conceive a child.’
She sat higher, crossing her arms and inadvertently plumping up her breasts, making his shaft twitch as he rolled on protection. ‘You assumed right.’
He nodded, trying to focus on the conversation, not the bewitching sight of tight nipples cresting her arms like treats displayed for him to taste. He failed. How could he not notice?
‘Good. Nor am I.’
Though at some stage a child had to be on the agenda.
His mouth tightened. He was already doing what he could to secure the throne. So was Annalena. The thought of them coming together, solely to create an heir, felt wrong. Like the way his father had manipulated his mother, convincing her he cared for her to get the heir he needed. Not to mention access to her fortune and international connections.
‘What is it, Benedikt? Having second thoughts?’
‘Does it look like I am having second thoughts?’ he asked as he turned to the bed, his erection heavy and his flesh too tight from the effort of holding back.
She shook her head but he saw the way her crossed arms tightened and the upward tilt of her jaw. He recalled how she’d believed him uninterested in her.
Did she still think, even a little, that he didn’t desire her? He knelt on the end of the bed, knees wide, gripped her ankles and, in one quick movement, tugged till she lay flat before him.
‘I want you, Annalena, and it has nothing to do with making an heir or satisfying duty.’ Their eyes locked and he felt that familiar electric pulse between them. ‘Frankly, I’ve had it up to my neck with duty. I refuse to take it to bed with me. This is personal. I wantyou. Just like you wantme.’
He waited and eventually she relented, her eyes like emerald fire. ‘I do. So much.’
Her words stroked fire through his already eager body but he made himself go slowly, kissing his leisurely way up from her ankles. The musky, enticing scent of female satisfaction teased as he reached silky inner thighs. But before he could settle between her legs and bring her back to the verge of climax, she wriggled and tugged at his shoulders.