Obsession (Royally Hot 3)

“I know,” he said. “Your mother never appreciated anything you did. But I had to have it. For a long time, it still smelled like you. I gave the alms house a small chest of gold to settle my conscience. Fucking killed me when the scent started to fade.”

That wasn’t all. On the wall was a small but finely framed sketch of a flower I had done. I remembered that day. It was early summer. I’d been in the summer house alone, doodling. And had left it behind.

Turning to him, he met me with an almost-apologetic grimace.

“Told you. Fucking obsessed.”

It broke my heart to think of him here, all alone, pining away for me while I was so terrified of him.

“We’ve wasted so much time,” I said.

“Yeah, but I’ve got you now,” he said, scooping me up again. “That’s all that matters.”

I looped my arm around his thick, muscular neck and he carried me through his chambers. He kicked open the door at the far end of the room, and there it sat. His bed. Neatly made with crisp gray sheets, elegant and masculine. He laid me down on it, kissing me as he did. Without breaking the kiss, he climbed on top of me, staring down at me. Then he let out a low growl as he drew my arms up over my head, gripping both wrists in one palm like he did when he’d first kissed me.

“Fuck,” he said, shaking his head, looking me up and down. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Laying there beneath him, wrapped so luxuriously in his sheets, with my head so comfortable on the pillow, I was suddenly deliriously, dizzily exhausted. The day caught up to me like a tidal wave. As he kissed me again, this time deeper and more possessively, I fought hard to keep my eyes open. But he kissed so intensely and it felt so good that my eyes fluttered shut. When we parted, I tried to blink myself awake. But he was so big. And strong. And I felt so warm, and safe and….

A yawn snuck up on me and I was utterly powerless to stop it. I popped my eyes open and looked up at him, my brother, so gorgeous and strong and intense. I half expected him to be mad that I yawned, but I could see at once he was quite the opposite. He smiled down at me, laughing a little, sweeping my hair from my forehead with his big hand.

He leaned down on top of me, and nibbled my ear.

Then said, in his darkest and sexiest voice, “Rest, beautiful. Gather your strength. You’re going to need it.”

* * *

When I opened my eyes, I was surrounded by dozens of flickering candles. Maksim wasn’t beside me, though, and my heart constricted at the thought that it had all been a dream. But it was no dream, for as I propped myself up in his big, luxurious bed, I saw that on the table on the other side of the room, Maksim had arranged trays of bread, fruit, and cheese. And there, standing beside the table, was Maksim himself. Shirtless, and pouring two glasses of wine.

I slid off the bed and padded over to him. He’d taken off my boots, and placed them neatly by the foot of the bed.

“There you are,” he said, handing me a glass of wine. A deep red droplet slid down the bottle onto his thumb. I took his big hand in mine and placed his thumb in my mouth, sucking it clean as I looked up at him. Batting my lashes once and then twice.

“Fuuuuuck,” he growled, as I let go of his thumb with a sucking pop. He pinched my cheeks hard in his hand, looking almost angry as he admired me. “How the fuck did you get so perfect?”

“I don’t know about that,” I said, feeling embarrassed, my cheeks hot and stinging. “I’m too skinny, too tall, too red-haired, too boyish…”

He didn’t release my jaw. Instead, he tightened his grip and made me look up at him.

“Never deny it. Never play coy with me. Embrace it. Embrace the fucking goddess that you are,” he said, from between gritted teeth. “Got it?”

Oh lord.

“Yes,” I gasped. He released his grip on my jaw, softly stroking my cheek before he went to get his glass, and raised it to mine to toast me.

“To you and me.”

“To you and me, always.”

As I drank my first sip of wine, I realized I was not only thirsty but absolutely famished. I chose a plate of blackberries first, then moved onto a chunk of cheese that he had sliced before I woke up.

Careful not to talk with my mouth full, I chewed until I could politely tell him, “I could get used to this.”

“You fucking better,” he growled.

As we ate, I kept stealing glances at him, still so thrilled by this new way of being with him. For so long, I had yearned for this warmth from him. Now that I had it, I hardly knew what to do with it. Once again, I felt mostly speechless. But there was something on my mind.