Don't Tell (Don't 1)

The car finally stopped. I peered around the corner and saw a marina. At the end of a line of boats was an enormous white yacht.

Damon stepped from the car and waited for me outside.

Were we sailing on that? I could count three tiers. There was possibly another one beneath the water’s surface.

Damon offered his arm. I slipped my hand through, connecting our elbows.

“This is your surprise.” He nodded at the yacht.

“It’s amazing.”

I took one of the crew members hands as he walked me along the plank. It was only wide enough for one person to pass at a time. Damon was directly behind me.

“Your majesty.” The crew bowed in unison once we were aboard. “Your state rooms have been prepared.”

I looked at him. State rooms? I thought we were staying at the hotel tonight.

I knew better than to question him in front of the crew. I followed as they led us through the tight corridor.

The door opened and I stared at the bedroom. There were windows on three sides. A huge bed anchored against one wall, looking out on the sea. Everything was white and bright like the outside of the ship.

“Leave us,” Damon instructed.

I had expected to be shown a separate room. Ayla explained that when traveling, we would have to be kept in separate quarters. It was the only way to protect the sanctity of the crown. I realized no one was aware that the leader of the country was a member of The Talon’s secret society. The sanctity had already been spoiled.

“What is going on?” I asked now that we were alone.

He sat on the bed, dragging my hips to him. He pressed his lips to my navel. I heard a growl in his throat. His breath was warm through the black silk dress.

“Damon,” I urged. “I don’t understand. Something has upset you.”

“There aren’t many days when I wish I wasn’t king.”

“That bad?” I ran my fingers through his hair. He looked in my eyes. That look made me melt. Made me forget all rational thought. It was sexy and forlorn at the same time.

The captain blew the horn and we departed from the dock. I lulled into him when the yacht sped into the channel.

“Are you going to tell me what happened to your good mood? Everything was fine at the olive grove.”

His fingers dug into my sides, pulling my dress higher along my thighs. The slit fell open.

“I need you,” he groaned.

I nodded. “I need you too.” I feathered my fingers over his ears.

“It can’t be dictated. It can’t be controlled.” He lifted my hem, revealing the satin panties that matched the black dress.

My breathing escalated as his mouth began to explore exposed slivers of skin. I pushed my hips forward. He nipped at the satin, taking it roughly in his teeth.

“You’re mine.”

I nodded. “Yes.”

“Mine when I want you.” He pushed the panties to the widest curve of my ass.

“Yes,” I whispered.

His tongue worked to separate my folds, pushing to my clit.