The King's Captive Virgin

He wasn’t satisfied yet. And nor was she.

He released his thoroughly intimate hold on her and reached for protection. In seconds he’d stripped off his underpants and rolled a sheath down over his straining, massive erection. Her heart thundered. He was so huge, so stiff. She wasn’t sure she could take him...

But she wanted to. She couldn’t hold still for the wanting.

His eyes on hers, he gripped her restless hips with both hands. Then he bent his head low again. Another luscious lick of his tongue spiked her pulse even more. She knew he was preparing her, but she couldn’t wait any more.

‘Giorgos...’ Her wanton craving was audible.

He stilled, then moved up her body to brace himself above her. So close. She stared up at him, so intensely longing. So trusting.

He held fast, rigid above her. ‘There’s no going back.’

She didn’t answer—didn’t want him to give her yet another chance to change her mind. She ran her hand through his silky hair and pressed, drawing him down so she could kiss him the way he’d taught her. Elation soared as he gave her his tongue. But he still held that most masculine part of him an inch away from where she was burning with heat and want.

So as she kissed him—as she welcomed the teasing plunge of his tongue into her hungry mouth—she arched up, rubbing that desperately aching part of her against him. She moaned as she moved, discovering just how much she liked rubbing against him like this. And at last he moved—only the slightest push of his hips to press the thick head of his manhood against her slick sex, sliding between her folds only an inch before slipping back.

Her breath stilled as she assimilated the sensations and again he pressed. And then again. Gentle, shallow pulses that started to drive her wild. Suddenly she was swamped in the hunger for more—for all.

‘Giorgos...’ she breathed in pure mindless desperation. ‘Please. Oh, please. Please.’

His sudden fierce thrust breached that thin barrier, plunging him deep into her narrow channel. She cried out at the enormous pressure that gave her both physical fullness yet also intense relief. He was there.

‘Kassie?’ He gazed deeply into her eyes, searching, questioning, wanting.

It was so much more than she’d imagined it would be. He was so much more.

‘You’re hurting?’ he asked hoarsely.

‘No... Yes...’ she whispered honestly, and drew in a shuddering breath. ‘No... It’s just...’

He kissed her—a sweet, hot kiss—so that for a moment she was too stunned to be able to answer. But then she softened, relaxing into him, her body gradually accepting the possession of his.

And it was so good. She moaned as he began to move, spectacularly slowly. Giving her time to adjust to more...and then more. And then she moved too—experimentally mimicking that delicious rocking of his, interleaving their most sensitive places...

His hands swept over her, skilfully seeking other spots to tease, to treasure. He made love to her mouth, then her neck, then arched above her to tug with divine torture at her breasts while ploughing deep into her womb.

She gasped. That initial shock had now faded, leaving rapture to rise in the driving exertion of his body over hers. He was around her, over her, in her, and he left no part of her untouched. She moaned again as the physical was transcended and white-hot emotions bubbled as he worked her harder. She swept her hands over his chest and then gripped his shoulders, instinctively curling her leg around him to hold him close, urging him.

He met the unspoken desire—the challenge—and took her harder, higher. She panted as the sensations began to spiral, her breathless groans stoking his speed and attention until she cried out in complete orgasmic agony. And then, as waves of ecstasy rained through her body, he released his own—thrusting with unrestrained, unrelenting might before powerfully straining as hard and as deep as he could, spilling his seed into her greedy, clenching heat.

Long moments later he levered himself up from where he was slumped over her to kiss her—a lazy, intimate, generous kiss that somehow bolstered her. She’d been torn apart, and now his luscious, long kiss put her back together. She was reformed. Different. Better.

She sighed with utter contentment as he rolled to his side and then pulled her to rest against him. She felt as if she was floating. ‘I had no idea,’ she whispered in wonder. ‘I just had no idea.’

His answering smile was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. She smiled back, wide-eyed, as the aftermath of such intensity fired adrenalin around her body. She couldn’t believe what had happened. Couldn’t believe how powerful the feeling had been. Couldn’t believe her heart would ever settle again.

He suddenly moved, standing up from the bed to turn and scoop her into his arms. He carried her to the bathroom, flicking the lever so water flowed from the multiple jets in the shower. She trembled as he set her on her feet. She was so keyed up by what had taken place. By what she’d felt. By the need to feel it again—to make sure it hadn’t been a dream or a fluke... She needed—

‘Breathe,’ he said softly, placing his hand on her chest and feeling the frantic beat of her heart. ‘Just breathe.’

He carefully lathered her body, massaging her all over with annoying gentleness, but there was a wicked smile lurking in his eyes when he caught her gasps and he took extra time to wash her breasts and down her belly.

She put her hand on his wrist as he was about to step away. ‘I want to do it again,’ she whispered boldly, her heart still beating that frantic tattoo.

‘I know.’ He wrapped her in one of the luxurious bathrobes and picked her up again.

‘I am capable of walking.’ She felt embarrassed, but at the same time she loved the care he showed.

‘I like holding you,’ he answered bluntly. He paused for a second in the room, and then placed her on the sofa instead of the bed. ‘Wait here a minute.’

She wondered what the problem was, but then she saw the bloodstain on the sheet and felt her blush burn. But there was an odd sort of pleasure too—that there was a mark of what had happened. That it had been no dream. It had been earthy and raw and real.

‘I’ll take care of it.’ His voice was a little hoarse.

He left the room for a few moments, before returning with a pile of folded linen in his arms. In two seconds he’d bundled the soiled sheets and wafted a fresh sheet over the big bed. She walked over to help him.

‘Uh-uh.’ He shook his head. ‘You’ll mess up my corners.’

So she stood back, her arms folded as she watched him work. ‘I’m impressed.’

‘You thought I was too spoiled to know how to make a bed, didn’t you?’ he jeered at her. ‘I wasn’t about to order my staff to come and freshen the place. I’m not that much of an ass. I’m—’

‘Considerate. Tender. Tough—in a good way,’ she interrupted with a smile. ‘And you really do know how to make a bed.’

‘When I was first crowned I realised I wasn’t anywhere near ready to take it on and I needed some discipline and order to my day. So I trained with my soldiers. And I make my own bed. Every. Day.’

‘Impressive.’ She chuckled at his self-mocking smile.

‘But I’m not disciplined at all now.’ He tugged her back down to the bed.

It was true, he realised. He no longer gave a damn about anything in the world other than pleasing Kassie. Sex was always enjoyable, but what he’d just experienced with her had been something else again. The honesty of her response... The unfettered enjoyment... He’d worked so hard to pull that from her. Pleasuring her had mattered to him in a way it had never mattered before.

He was always a considerate lover, and liked to ensure his partner’s satisfaction, but he’d wanted the next level for Kassie. She deserved that—so sweet, so lonely. She’d been trembling like a leaf in the shower just now, and a huge wave of tenderness had ris

en within him. And her flush when they’d returned to the bedroom and seen that rumpled bed...

The most appalling Neanderthal satisfaction rippled through him at being her first—her only—lover. And he was going to do it again. And again. And he was determined to make it even better for her every time. He cared deeply about her experience. And realising that made his muscles tense.

‘You’re the most disciplined person I’ve ever met.’ Her mouth formed the tiniest, most feline smile.

Another feeling rushed in—all intensity as he registered her blossoming confidence. That smile—that mouth of hers—was going to be the death of him.

He grabbed her hips and hauled her close, wanting to drown in the sensations she aroused within him and not analyse them any more. He kissed her, drawing in her sweet enthusiasm as she wriggled beneath him. His heart thundered as he touched her—she was so warm, so generous, so gentle.

‘I don’t want to have to do it any more,’ he confessed in the intense relief of holding her.

‘Do what?’

Resentment—rebellion—burned within him. What he wanted would always come second to what was required. That was the price he would always pay. ‘Pretend to be so bloody perfect.’

‘You don’t pretend.’ She frowned up at him. ‘In what way are you not perfect?’ She mocked him with that bewitching smile. ‘You’re handsome. Intelligent. And you’ve introduced me to the most magical experience ever. I’m working very hard not to fall for you, my King.’

He stiffened at her admission—even though he knew she was teasing, just to make him smile. But she didn’t know the truth of him. Not the raw, ugly facts. Suddenly he wanted her to—so she no longer saw him as a poster boy for the monarchy. He wanted her to understand the poison of his past. And then—selfish, greedy bastard that he was—he wanted her to still want him. He wanted her to look at him with those desire-drenched eyes even when she knew how false he really was.

It felt like a betrayal for her not to know the truth when she had been so honest—so genuine and generous—with him.

‘Your original opinion of me was an accurate one, Kassie,’ he said, his throat tightening as he rolled to his side to face her. ‘You saw straight through me to the truth.’

She stilled at the solemnity in his tone. ‘I was defensive and on the attack and I judged you without thinking it through,’ she said softly. ‘But your mother died in childbirth... No wonder you were worried about Eleni. And Damon’s father abandoned his lover in her hour of need... I can understand why you’re wary of him.’

‘Those things are true—and relevant to a point. But they’re not the reason I’ve wanted to protect her too much for too long.’

‘No?’ Her eyes deepened. ‘Then what’s the reason?’