Don't Promise (Don't 3)

Damon’s body was heavy and limp. He kissed my neck, rolling me with him to the side. I cocooned to his chest. I knew there was no way I could sleep. I had performed the ultimate sexual Olympics. Become a sex kitten. Been touched and licked in ways that women only dreamed about. And by a fucking king.

But within minutes, my eyes slowly closed and I couldn’t fight the dark any longer.

9

Damon

There was a soft sigh as sleep claimed her. I pulled the sheet over us and let her lie in my arms. This woman had taken me somewhere I didn’t know I could go—to my knees.

I remembered the rules of the society. One night. The fucked up system had never bothered me before. I was always as pleased to see them go as come. She shouldn’t be any different. She had signed the contract. In the morning I would send her home in an unmarked royal car and I’d never see her again.

I closed my eyes.

I didn’t know if that was something I could do, just yet.

What happened on this bed wasn’t supposed to happen. I had a taste of something that made me hunger for more. I craved her more now than before we stepped on the elevator.

I ran my palm along her hip. She nuzzled next to me.

I’d never had a night with a tally like this. It was supposed to be fucking. Plain and simple. I got my thrill from beating every man in the Titan for her. She got the thrill from having her fantasy come true. It was an even exchange. The contracts protected the society in case anything got out of hand. It never did. The mutual need was met without question.

But there was something about Molly Washington that had gotten under my skin. By now I would have climbed out of bed and walked to my office. Maybe had another drink and looked at tomorrow’s agenda.

But something in my chest urged me to stay. To hold on to her a little longer. Inhale the scent of her hair. Press my body to hers. Remember what it felt like to touch her.

Daylight would be here soon.

I steadied myself against the balcony railing. The wind whipped from the east. From here I could see the ocean. It looked still at sunrise.

There was a cruise ship coming in to port. In a few hours, the tourists would be wandering Freychon, shopping for souvenirs, taking pictures. Posting about the beauty of my country. Some would vow they could never leave. Others would promise to return. Tourism was an economic driver for the country, but not the only one. We had more to offer than pretty postcards.

“Your majesty.” Fernando cleared his throat behind me.

I turned. He presented a cart of coffee.

“Gracias.”

I watched as he placed the contents of the cart on the balcony’s dining table. Within minutes he had left the residence.

I reached for the pot of coffee. I liked it black. The steam swirled from the top as I poured a cup.

And what about the American sleeping in my bed? What was her story? What brought her to Galona?

Maybe it was time I found out.

I walked inside, making a turn for the master suite. She was tangled in the sheets. A long leg strewn across the bed. Her arms cradled a pillow. Her hair was auburn with deep hues

of golden honey. She looked like a fucking angel sleeping there. I was certain I’d never had one of those in my bed before.

And not one who was anything like this woman.

I took another sip of coffee before placing it next to the bed.

Her head moved. “Mmm.”

“Bonjour.” I shirked the lounge pants from my legs. “Buenos dias.”

I climbed on the bed, taking the sheet over my head.