Her mouth went moist and she bit her bottom lip. She recalled exactly why she hadn’t bothered with light, teasing touches the last time they were together. His body was so powerful, his every muscle honed. She hadn’t been able to hold herself back the last time.
He winked at her with a playfulness that she didn’t see in this intense man often.
She could not stop a wriggle of impatience, the Egyptian cotton sheets slick against her rapidly heating flesh.
Then all playfulness left his eyes as swiftly as he took off his shoes and pants, leaving his toned body naked and all for her.
The thick length of him strained upward against his stomach. Unable to hold back, she sat up to run her hands up his chest, then down his sides, his hips, forward to clasp his steely strength in his hands. To stroke, again and again, teasing her thumb along the tip.
With a growl of approval and impatience, he stretched over her while keeping his full weight off her. He braced on his elbows, cupping her face and slanting his mouth along hers. His tongue filled her mouth and she knew soon, not soon enough, he would fill her body again.
His hands molded to her curves, exploring each of her erogenous zones with a perfection that told her he remembered every moment of their time together as much as she did. His hard thigh parted her legs, the firm pressure against her core sending her arching closer, wriggling against him, growing moist and needy. She clutched at his shoulders, breathy whispers sliding free as she urged him to take her. Now. No more waiting. He’d tormented her dreams long enough.
Then the blunt thickness of him pushed into her, inch by delicious inch. He was so gentle and strong at the same time. She knew she would have to be the one to demand more. Harder. Faster. And she did. With her words and body, rocking against him, her fingers digging into his taut ass to bring them both the completion they sought.
Her fingers crawled up his spine again and she pushed at his shoulders, nudging until he rolled to his back, taking her with him in flawless athleticism. His power, his strength, thrilled her. She straddled him, her sleek blond hair draped over her breasts, her nipples just peeking through and tightening. Gervais swept aside her hair and took one pink peak in his mouth. He circled with his tongue, sending bolts of pleasure radiating through her. Sighs of bliss slipped from between her lips. She rolled her hips faster, riding him to her completion. Wave after wave of her orgasm pulsed through her.
She heard his own hoarse shout of completion, the deep sounds sending a fresh wash of pleasure through her until she melted forward onto his chest. Sated. Every nerve tingling with awareness in the aftermath.
The swish of the ceiling fan sent goose bumps along her skin. The fine thread count of the sheets soothed her.
But most of all, the firm muscled length of him felt so good; the swirls of his body hair tempted her to writhe along him again.
If she could move.
And just like that, Erika realized how utterly complicated being with him was. Because like it or not, she had feelings for him. Feelings that were threatening to cloud her judgment.
And while this may have felt right for her, she needed to be sure it was right for him, too.
* * *
Gervais poured the flowery-scented shampoo into his hand. Her magnolia scent filled the steam and teased his senses as they stood under the shower spray in a vintage claw-foot tub. The sheer plastic curtain gave both privacy and a view of the room filled with fresh flowers he’d ordered sent up especially for her.
There was so very much he wanted to do for—and to—this incredible woman.
Drawing Erika close to him, he kissed her neck, nuzzled behind her ear, savored the wet satin of her skin against his bare flesh. Already he could feel the urge building inside him to lift her legs around his waist and surge inside her. To bring them both to completion again, but he was determined to take his time, to build the moment.
And yes, draw out the pleasure.
He lathered her hair, the bubbles and her hair slick between his fingers as he massaged her scalp. Her light moan of bliss encouraged him on, filling him with a sense of power over fulfilling all her needs. He continued to rub along her head, then gently along her neck, down to her shoulders in a slight massage. He wanted to pamper her, to show her he was serious about her and the babies.
She leaned into his touch but stayed silent. Feeling her let out a deep sigh, he decided he wanted to really get to know this beautiful, incredible woman. Sure, they’d spent some time together...but there was still so much he could learn about her. That he wanted to learn about her. Everything, not just about her beautiful body, but also about that magnificently brilliant mind of hers.
Such as why she had chosen a career in the military after growing up as royalty.
“So tell me about your time in the service. What did you really do?”
“Just what I told you that day we met.”
“Truly? Nothing more? Not some secret spy role? Or dark ops career no one can ever know about?”
“How does the saying go in your country? I could tell you but then I would have to kill you.”
He laughed softly against her mouth. “As long as we go while naked together, I’ll die a happy man.”
She swatted his butt playfully, then her smile faded. “Truthfully, there is nothing more to tell. I was a translator and handled some diplomacy meetings.”
“I admire that about you.” It had been a brave move. A noble, selfless act.
Shrugging, she tipped her shampooed head back into the water. Erika closed her eyes, clearly enjoying the feel of the steamy water. The suds caught on her curves, drawing his gaze. She was damn sexy.
“Why are you so dismissive of your service to your country?”
Eyes flashed open, defensive. He could tell it in the way she chewed on her lip before she answered, “I wanted to be a field medic and go into combat zones. But I was not allowed.”
He nodded, trying to be sympathetic. To understand the complication of letting a princess, even from defunct royalty, into an active war zone.
“I can see how your presence could pose a security risk for those around you. You would be quite a high-value captive.”
Her half smile carried a hint of cynicism. “While that is true, that was not the reason. My parents interfered. They did not want me to work or join at all. They wanted me to marry someone rich and influential, like I was some pawn in a royal chess game from a thousand years ago.”
“Still, you made your own way. That’s commendable. Why a field nurse and not in a military hospital?” He respected her drive. And her selfless career choices. She wanted to help people. Something told him she would have been a good field medic. Strong, knowledgeable, fearless.
“I did not want special treatment or protection because of my family’s position. And still, I ended up as a translator not even allowed anywhere near a combat zone.” Her voice took on a new determination. A tenacity he found incredibly attractive.
“So you made plans to continue your education after your service was finished.” He knew she’d registered for coursework that would begin next month in the UK but had assumed she would ask for her spot to be held until after the children were born.
“I will not be deterred from my plans because of my family’s interference.” Eyes narrowed at him. Every bit a princess with that haughty stare. “I can support myself.”
“Of course you can.” He brought his negotiating skills to the conversation, hoping to make her see reason. “This is about more than money, though. You have a lot on your plate. Let me help you and the babies while you return to school.”
“That makes it sound like I am incapable of taking care of myself the way my parents always said.” Bitterness edged back into her voice. And something that sounded like dulled resignation.
“This isn’t just about you. Or me. We have children to think of. You know I want you to marry me. I’ve made that clear. But if your answer is still no, at least move in with me. Make this easier for all—”
She pressed her mouth to his, silencing him until she leaned back, water dripping between them again.
“Gervais, please, this time is for us to get to know one another better. This kind of pressure from you about the future is counterproductive.”
One thing was for sure—she had been opening up. Maybe asking her to marry him again was too much too soon. But he could feel the connection between them growing. So he would back off. But not forever. He just had to figure out a way to show her how good they were together. “Then how about we find food?”
Her smile was so gorgeous the water damn near steamed off his skin. “Food? Now that is music to this pregnant woman’s ears.”
* * *
The strands of Erika’s hair fell damp against the cloth of the jersey. They sat in the suite’s kitchen. She was on the countertop, cross-legged, peering over at Gervais’s back.
He’d retrieved an assortment of ripe fruit—pitted cherries, chocolate-dipped strawberries, pineapple slices and peach slices. At the center of the platter was a bowl of indulgent-looking cream.