Stolen (Royally Hot 1)

With expert hands, he manipulated my body as he needed it to be. I had always thought sex was a simple thing, a hurried act of mounting and rutting, but it was so very much more than that. It was musky sweat and semen, lips and muscles, sweet kisses and hungry licks.

It was slow, it was fast. It was hard and it was soft. It was yes to the very edge of no. It was everything I never knew I craved before.

Beyond my own pleasure I discovered new things about his needs as well. I discovered I had the power to take him to new heights—to make him shiver, beg, and groan. When Bors had me on my back, holding me close, I dragged my fingernails down his massive flesh, hard enough to make him hiss into my ear. And as I got to the dip where his solid and beautiful buttocks met his back, his rhythm changed, his thrusts slowed and deepened, and he came hard inside me once again.

Those deep and slow orgasms didn’t earn me the bobcat’s roar that his others did; these were softer, quieter, and more vulnerable. I adored every noise he made, every way he was.

“I love you,” he said, as he took me again, this time with me slightly on my side and one knee pressed towards my chest. “I was so worried when I couldn’t find you.”

Reaching up to his sun-beaten face, I ran my fingertips over his rough cheek. “I love you. I never meant to worry you.”

“If anything ever happens to you, Sara, I’ll lose my fucking mind. You have to believe that.”

In the flickering light of the oil lamp, I watched his expression change. His eyes closed and his jaw tightened. He wrapped one massive arm around my folded knee and plunged into me so deep my eyes rolled back in my head.

With two fingers, he made me come for him yet again, and this orgasm was even more powerful than all the rest—a universe-shaking tidal wave of pleasure that made me disappear into myself. Against the walls of my sex, his cock pulsed, and I felt him spill his cum into me one more time.

Once we were well and truly spent, both of us sweating with lusty exertion, he covered me with a blanket on the daybed and then prepared an area for us before the fire. His movements mesmerized me. Each gesture was so confident and powerful. So magnetic and sexy. He arranged a pile of cushions and blankets before the fire, which he fueled with one log after another.

“Angelica won’t like that we’ve used half her wood,” I said, admiring the way the firelight illuminated the valleys of his rock-hard abs.

He chuckled. “You think I give a shit about firewood right now? I’d burn down this whole goddamned village for you.” He twisted and added yet another log to the blazing fire, lighting up the dim room in dancing yellow-and-red bursts. “I’ll be sure her supply is overflowing by the time we’re wed.”

Another log, this time pine, and its pockets of resin made the flames sputter and spark.

A roaring fire was a little thing, but it felt enormous. To me, it represented so much. And in that instant, I had a real sense of what life would be like with him—I would be warm, safe, cared for.

It was more than I could ever have hoped until now.

He scooped me off the daybed, still wrapped in blankets, and laid me down before the fire where he joined me. The light from the blaze revealed the hard angles of his face. The depth of his scars and the devotion in his eyes.

I gazed up at him, dizzy with dreams and love. But I focused on the deep brown chasms of his eyes and found my center again. “I can’t believe we’re going to be married. How has my life changed so much in so little time?”

He twisted his big hand into mine, his huge fingers dwarfing mine.

“A few days, that’s all.” He raised his eyes to look at me, his look serious and intense. “There’s fuck all your father can do to stop us. You have my word. I’ll give you a good life, Sara. I’ve saved nearly every penny I’ve earned. We will have plenty. Together, we can build the livery and have something strong enough to support us as we grow old. We will not be royalty, but I will treat you like my queen.”

He brushed a lock of my hair aside and wound the end gently around his finger, once and then again. He pulled me to him and nestled his nose into my hair, inhaling deeply as he placed a protective kiss on my forehead.

“I wish we didn’t have to wait,” I said.

“Me too. But it’s the way it has to be. And when it’s done you’ll be mine in law, as you already are in my heart. I will provide for you, Sara. And,” he said, moving one hand down to my belly, “for our children.”