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CHAPTER 40

LIZZY

CAN I BORROW YOUR SOCKS?

The night was better than any I could remember or imagine. And to think—I hadn’t even wanted to attend the coronation party!

Now, I was engaged to the man I’d loved my whole life, and our future was ours to choose. His title was official, of course, and should anything happen to Lambert before another heir was announced, Declan would take his place as King of Murdan. But barring incident, all it meant was a bit of increased security.

Strangely, I found myself eager to return to the United States. It wasn’t that my life wasn’t satisfying here in Murdan… except that my life as an adult had been mostly work. Okay, all work.

In Virginia, I’d had something close to friends for the first time I could remember. Joey and Clara and Drea. I’d felt included, if only for a brief moment, and it had been nice. Fun, even. It had been a glimpse into a life I thought maybe only existed on American television shows.

The King Father and Queen Mother (King Erik and Queen Penelope’s new titles) had left the party relatively early in the night, and now things were winding down, citizens beginning to wander back to their own homes after a long night of palace revelry.

King Lambert and Celeste had bid us farewell, and as I returned from seeing my mother out, Declan caught my eye. There was a mischievous look in his deep blue gaze, and it sent a tingle dancing through me.

He approached, moving gracefully across the room toward me, and slid an arm around my waist as his nose lowered to nuzzle my neck just below my ear. “Have I told you how ridiculously hot you look tonight?”

I turned to brush his lips with mine, a deep sense of happiness filling me from the tips of my toes to the top of my head. Had I ever felt this completely satisfied? “And you, Prince Regent Declan, are devastating in that tux.”

He grinned, raising an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? You like it?”

I laughed, wrapping my arms around his waist and pressing my cheek to his warm, strong chest. “You know I do.”

“Well,” he murmured, his voice a rumble only I could hear. “If you like, I can leave on select parts while I demonstrate how the Prince Regent worships every inch of his fiancée.”

I leaned my head back to look at him as anticipation swirled in my stomach. “Which parts?”

His smile was sly. “The bow tie, of course. Maybe the cummerbund?”

I wrinkled my nose, picturing him in only the bow tie and cummerbund.

“Maybe the shiny shoes?” He suggested, lifting one for me to inspect.

“Let me see the socks,” I said, and he tugged up a dark pant leg to reveal Wombats socks.

I stifled a laugh. “Are those Wilcox Wombats socks? The ones they sell at the games?”

He lifted a shoulder. “Maybe.” Then he smiled down at me, his eyes filled with so much love it stole my breath for a moment. “If I leave these on, you have to keep your shoes on too. Have I mentioned how sexy they are?”

“Can I borrow some socks to wear with them?” I asked, poking him in the chest.

“Ow. You’re ruining my fantasy.”

“Let’s go back to the apartment and we can make some new ones for you,” I suggested.

He held me so closely I could feel his reaction to my suggestion against my hip. “I like that idea,” he whispered. “It’ll be my first time with a princess.”

That got my attention, and I stiffened, staring up at him. “Wait, I’m not a princess.”

“But you will be.”

I hadn’t even thought of it. That enormous gap between us was about to close entirely—and it had been as simple as Declan saying a few words. Maybe it had never really existed at all…

“Come on, Prince,” I said, taking his hand and leading him toward the door.

“All you ever have to do is ask,” he said, following willingly.

We walked the long halls of the palace complex, navigating together until he badged us through the family’s private wing. We returned to the apartment we’d claimed as our own, and I kicked off the teetering silver shoes as soon as we were through the door.

“Wait a minute,” Declan said, pointing at me. “I thought we had a deal about those.”

I laughed as he made a face. “Fine then,” he said. “I’m not going to wear mine, either. And you don’t get to make love to me while I wear these.” He peeled off the Wombats socks dramatically, throwing them onto the floor.

I was a little tipsy from the champagne and completely drunk on love as Declan pulled me into the bedroom.

“Would it be okay if I relieve you of this gown?” He asked, his fingers already attached to the clasp at my neck.

I nodded, smiling up at him. “And can I help you out of these?” I asked, my fingers working the button on his trousers.

“But don’t touch the cummerbund,” he said, and I erupted into another fit of giggles.

Declan unclasped and unzipped me, and then eased my gown from my body, holding my hand as I stepped out of it. He removed his jacket and tie, then pulled off his shirt.

“You cannot leave that on,” I told him, pointing at the royal blue cummerbund around his waist, which looked entirely ridiculous, even wrapped around the most perfect example of masculinity I’d ever seen.

“Fine,” he sighed, pretending to be disappointed as he removed the cummerbund. Then he took my hand and pulled me into him, growling, “Come here, wife.”

I didn’t correct him. I liked the sound of it, and the word echoed in my mind as he spun me onto the mattress and laid himself over me, kissing me long and deep.

I was breathless when he pulled away, and soon found myself gasping as he worked his mouth down my body and teased around my core. My hands buried themselves in his thick dark hair as his mouth found its target and Declan sucked and teased until I could think of nothing but him. Inside me. Filling me.

“I need you,” I moaned.

Declan stopped what he was doing immediately, and I was torn between telling him not to stop and demanding that he take me right this second.

I didn’t need to say a word, because a moment later, he was sinking into me, inch by delicious inch, as his mouth teased the skin below my ear. My body arched into his, inviting him deeper and deeper until I felt his hips seat against mine.

“There,” I whispered. “So. Perfect.”

I could feel every centimeter of him, and the warmth of his body on mine added to the sensation as his mouth paused in its teasing progress to utter, “fucking perfect.”

He moved slowly then, thrusting into me in a long, slow, languid rhythm that had me begging within minutes. When I thought I could take no more, he rolled, flipping us and smiling up at me.

I collapsed over his chest, which created an entirely new angle and set something off inside me. Pushing myself up, I braced against him while I began to move, undulating my hips to reproduce that incredible angle.

Declan was watching me, his eyes dreamy with lust, and his hands on my hips—not directing me, just moving in time. But when my rhythm sped up, then began to break down as every muscle within me flexed and shivered, he took over, thrusting up into me as he grunted out words I couldn’t understand. And then, finally, as I flew from the mountaintop, he let out a roar and warmth filled my body just before I sagged into him, both of us breathing hard.

“How did I get so lucky?” he asked.

I was asking myself the same question.