Unlike you.
Ah, but he couldn’t be who he was. Being a king demanded that he be more than a mere man. Something greater and more noble, more just. The ultimate in selflessness and self-sacrifice.
Cassius’s father had been the model he’d tried to emulate—compassionate yet distant. Protective yet controlled. A great king, everyone had said.
What would they all think of you now? Letting the brandy go to your head while you flirt with the wife you swore you’d never touch...
The thought came and went, and Cassius let it go. Because Inara took another step. The white cotton of her dress brushed against his trousers as she leaned down, reaching for the brandy glass in his hand.
But she wasn’t looking at the glass.
She was looking at him.
He lifted the glass before she could take it and sipped some of the brandy, and then, before she had a chance to straighten, he slipped a hand around the back of her neck and brought her mouth down on his.
It was a reflex, an instinct he thought he’d long since left behind, and he knew even as he reached for her that it was wrong. But he didn’t stop. And when that perfect rosebud of a mouth touched his he didn’t want to stop.
Her lips were soft beneath his and he could feel the muscles in the back of her neck tense, her body going very still. Her shock was palpable, but she didn’t pull away. And when he opened his mouth, letting her take a sip of the brandy directly from him, she gave a little moan.
He was right, though; she wore no perfume. Her scent was a combination of laundry powder, something flowery that must be either shampoo or soap, and a sweet, warm, musky scent that had to be intrinsic to her.
It was so unexpectedly erotic that he increased the pressure on the back of her neck, trying to draw her in closer, before he’d even thought about it. She didn’t protest, the soft lips beneath his opening, her tongue shyly seeking his. Inexpert yet hungry, and clearly wanting more.
You fool. What are you doing?
He didn’t know but, whatever it was, it had to stop.
Cassius sat back, releasing his hold on her, trying to draw away as he put his brandy glass on the table beside his chair. But Inara wouldn’t let him. She slid her arms around his neck, leaning into him, her knees pressing against the seat of his chair. Her kiss was hungrier, her mouth hot, sweet and alcoholic, going straight to his head as surely as the brandy had.
It had been so long since he’d kissed a woman. He’d forgotten how good it felt to have a soft mouth on his and warm arms around him.
It made him hungry. So hungry.
Without thought, Cassius settled his hands on her hips and pulled her down into his lap, positioning her so she knelt on the seat astride him. She sighed, winding her arms around his neck and pressing herself delicately against him, kissing him harder, her inexperience clear, yet still so hungry for him.
It set him on fire.
The erotic scent of her skin was everywhere, the heavy silk of her hair falling like a curtain around him. He lifted his hands to it, buried his fingers in its softness and closed them into fists, holding on tight. Her arms tightened around his neck.
The heat of her mouth stole everything from him, his breath, his resistance, his common sense. It put down the King and coaxed out the man instead. The man he hadn’t been in years.
Desire rushed through him like a tide, relentless, unstoppable, and before he knew what he was doing he’d unwound his fingers from her hair and was tugging at the hem of her dress, pushing it up around her hips.
She made another of those delicious, sexy, throaty sounds and, when his hands slid up her bare thighs, her skin warm and silky, she quivered. So responsive. She was everything he’d been missing and more. All the blood in his body rushed south, concentrating itself behind his fly. He was so hard, he hurt.
Her skin beneath his fingers felt hot, and when he slipped his hand between her thighs, stroking her through the lacy fabric of her knickers, she felt even hotter. She shuddered as he touched her and he could feel wetness against his fingertips.
Dear God, he couldn’t think.
He curled his fingers into the material and pulled it roughly aside so he could touch her more directly. She was hot and wet, and when he found the delicate bud hidden in the slick folds of her sex she cried out against his mouth, her hips shuddering under his hand.
Beautiful, sexy little woman.
‘I want you,’ he said roughly. ‘I want you here. Now. So if you don’t want it too, you’d better tell me immediately.’
‘I do.’ Her voice was breathless and frayed. ‘I want you, Cassius. Oh, please... Please...’
The need inside him was too big, too demanding. He couldn’t deny it even if he’d wanted to. But he didn’t want to. The world had narrowed down to the slick feel of her sex, the sweet musk of her skin and the rich, heady taste of her mouth.