Page 14 of Coronation (Royally Forbidden #1)
She obeys as her hands find the sides of my face, locking our gazes together. “Ben,” she whispers, and I’m quite sure it’s the best thing I’ve ever heard. “Ben,” she says again, and the sound of it seems to settle deep inside me.
We kiss. It’s hot and messy and deep, and I can barely stand the intimacy of it. Heat is beginning to build in the base of my spine, but I hold it at bay, fucking her in slow, deliberate thrusts as our breathing grows ragged.
In a dark, dangerous corner in the back of my mind, I’m nearly overcome by the dark, sordid impulse to pull out and rip away the piece of fucking plastic covering my cock.
If she feels this good with a condom, her bare pussy would drive me out of my mind and—damn me—the fantasy of my cum leaking from her perfect cunt is almost as arousing as the thought of pushing it back inside her.
“Ben,” Zelda pleads, lifting her hips higher on my abdomen, allowing me to hit that place I discovered last night.
The one that makes her shake. She does, too.
She writhes beneath me, wetness flooding over my cock as, outside the bedroom window, I hear the distant sounds of another car’s tires crunching over the gravel drive.
No. Gritting my teeth, I shove my hand between our bodies to work her clit, and Zelda cries out instantly, her back bowing off the mattress.
“Yes, darling,” I grunt, going harder. “Come for me.” The look on this woman’s face as she comes is more breathtaking than any sunrise or work of art.
Even after forty-one years on this earth, nothing comes close.
If it were only desire, perhaps I could stand it, but the elemental awe such a sight evokes in me is inescapable.
My forehead falls to her shoulder as I come with a roar. My release fills the condom as I grind into her body, mindless of anything but extending our mutual pleasure, a single thought reverberating through me as I do: I need more time .
Zelda’s lips on my cheek bring me back to earth, but still, I don’t pull out, focusing on the sensations her touch evokes as her hands move from my jaw to my shoulders to my bare back. I’ve never felt anything like this, and now that I have— now that I know —how can I go on without it?
It takes an inordinate amount of strength to lift my head from her shoulder to meet those intensely blue eyes. Neither of us smiles, and I wonder vaguely if it’s selfish to hope she feels some of the dread that I do.
Swallowing, I will my stiff muscles to move, sitting back on my heels to remove the condom from my softening cock. Zelda watches, her bottom lip caught between her teeth, propped on her elbows atop the midnight-blue sheets.
When I woke up, I’d known this was it for us, but the actual moment has come now, and it feels like my chest is going to split open.
What is wrong with me?
Am I ill?
“Do you still want a secret?” she asks, her eyes following as I climb off the bed to drop the latex in the small bin with the others. When I glance back in her direction, I see her lips twitch. “It seems like a waste of an NDA not to.”
I’d forgotten I asked. “Yes. I want you to tell me a secret.” The mattress groans quietly under my weight as I return to her, and Zelda shifts too, until we’re lying on our sides, facing each other.
Her hand is resting atop the sheets between us, and taking it feels more natural than my next breath.
She exhales softly, considering. “I had a bad breakup a few years ago, and I’m starting to realize that I’m not quite over it. The guy, I’m definitely over. The damage, though…” She trails off, wincing. “I’m sorry. That’s a really lame secret.”
“It’s not,” I assure her, drawing my thumb over the side of her hand, settling into the new feeling of hatred and jealousy toward a total stranger. It’s irrational, and yet whatever primordial creature this woman has brought out in me seems to be intent on robbing me of every bit of my restraint.
Zelda smiles slightly, and though her eyes are still on mine, I sense she’s far away. “Your turn.”
There is only one thing on my mind, one secret which is worth this moment, and it’s the one that costs me the most to speak.
Voluntarily offering up something I’d rather keep hidden is unprecedented for me.
Yet just as was the case last night, my desire to keep hold of her for a little while longer outweighs the discomfort that comes from emotional vulnerability.
To hell with it. The end of this brief affair will sting no matter how that comes about; I might as well push my luck and attempt to make that time later rather than sooner.
I blow out a rocky breath. “I don’t want this to be over just yet.”
At my admission, the shadows clear instantly from Zelda’s eyes, giving way to an expression of such warmth, it seems to spread into me as well. “You don’t?”
Encouraged and full of hope, I shake my head. “No.”
The smile that splits her face in response is nothing short of radiant. “Me either.”
I have no idea what it is about this woman that disarms me to such an intense degree, but my usual skepticism is nowhere to be found as I tighten my hold on her hand, my heart lifting to impossible heights.
What could be wrong with extending our time together? It’s Saturday morning, and if I shamelessly cancel several items on my schedule for later today, then we could have a full two extra days. At the moment, with our departure from the party looming, that feels like a lifetime.
As I stop to think about it, wracking my mind for a way to bring this about, I realize that the logistics of such a proposal are problematic.
It’s not as though I could take her back to Ashwell Palace or book us into a hotel.
On the drive up here, though, it occurred to me that the duke’s house was near one of my own.
I swallow. “I own a country house. It’s not far from here, and it’s private,” I tell her, and my pulse is racing as Zelda stills, listening. “Would you come to stay?”
Though in truth it likely takes only a few seconds, it seems as though an age passes before she responds. “As in, right now?”
My breath seems to be caught in my chest as I nod. “Yes.” There are other things I would like to tell her, the merits of the property and possibly ways we could spend the time there, anything to make a weekend away in a dusty house seem appealing to a woman like Zelda Flowers.
She doesn’t require further persuasion, however, because another of her slow, brilliant smiles has split her face at my words. “Okay.”
My heart leaps. “Okay?”
Zelda nods, beaming at me with such obvious excitement that I find myself grinning, too. “I’ll need to be back by Monday morning. My call time is at 6 a.m.,” she cautions me, searching my face for signs this may be an issue.
“Of course,” I agree readily, my chest full to bursting. She said yes. She said yes, and we have more time. Not a lot, but some. This isn’t a relationship, and there are a hundred reasons why it can’t become one, but I’m greedy where she’s concerned.
If this is all we can have, I will take every second of it and be grateful.