A Christmas Bride for the King

She looked up at him and gulped. She’d never seen such an intense look on his face before. His bone structure stood out in stark relief. She nodded, her whole being saying yes to whatever he meant.

He took her hand and led her over to the bed, pulling her down with him onto the soft, decadent surface. As decadent as her behaviour. Salim raised himself over her and pulled her arms up so that they were over her head.

He looked at her. ‘Stay like that.’

Charlotte didn’t think she could move even if she wanted to. She was enslaved.

He watched her for a moment, as if she might disobey him, and she said roughly, ‘I’m not moving.’

He smiled—brief and infinitely wicked. Then he looked his fill of her, his gaze slow and thorough.

The fact that she could fascinate Salim—a king!—on any level was terrifying and heady.

His hand moved over her, causing her stomach muscles to contract. He cupped her breast again, until it pouted wantonly towards his mouth, and when he bent his head and surrounded her tight nipple with heat and moisture she clasped her hands together over her head, so tightly it hurt. It was the only thing she could do to counteract the intense spiking of pleasure.

Her back arched helplessly towards him, and when he left one breast he ministered the same brand of torture to the other one, until Charlotte was flushed and panting, her whole body pulsating with need.

He lifted his head and looked at her, his expression feral. ‘You’re so responsive...why do you hide all this heat under that prim uniform, hmm?’

Charlotte had no coherent answer except the one in her head that was silent. Because I hadn’t met you yet...

His hand drifted down again, over her belly and lower, as he said throatily, ‘Let’s see how responsive you really are.’

He pushed her legs apart with gentle force, and every nerve in Charlotte’s body seemed to migrate to between her legs in anticipation of his touch.

She still wasn’t prepared when he did touch her, experimentally at first, on the very outside of where she ached most. Teasing her.

She couldn’t keep her arms up any longer, and gripped his wide shoulders as he moved over her, his weight pressing down on her as that hand explored deeper between her legs. She gasped when his fingers slipped past the folds of aching flesh and released the liquid heat she’d been so desperately trying to contain.

He went still and muttered an Arabic curse, and for a second Charlotte felt acutely vulnerable. ‘What’s wrong?’

He shook his head and looked slightly stunned. ‘Nothing... You... I had no idea a woman like you existed...’

As he spoke he slipped a finger inside her and Charlotte’s thoughts scattered. She was too overcome to analyse what he’d just said or what it might mean.

She could feel her body resisting this intrusion, but as he explored her with a gentleness that belied the man she’d thought he was she felt her body softening, opening... One finger became two, and stretched her wider, going deeper, making the tension coiling deep within her snap and sharpen, searching for some kind of release.

She moved against his hand unconsciously, a little overwhelmed with all the sensations he was arousing. He bent his head and found her breast, licking her nipple back to stinging life before sucking it deep as his fingers still touched her intimately.

His mouth moved down her body, leaving a trail of hot kisses on her damp skin, and then his hand moved from between her legs. She immediately felt bereft—until his shoulders pushed her thighs even further apart.

She looked down and gasped. ‘What are you—?’

‘Shh... I need to taste you...to feel you on my tongue...’ His words sounded slurred, as if he was drunk.

Too overwhelmed to do anything but submit, she felt him press kisses to her upper inner thighs, the scrape of his short beard sending shivers of sensation all over her body. When his mouth got closer to the very centre of her she went very still, her entire being thinking, No...he won’t... But he did—with a thorough explicitness that made Charlotte’s eyes roll back in her head.

His tongue licked right into the centre of her body and she couldn’t breathe. Or think. Or move except to try and shy away from such an overload of pleasure. But his big hands were clamped on her thighs, holding her still, and then one hand moved under one buttock, gripping her firmly and lifting her so that he could explore her more fully.

Charlotte shuddered and gasped against Salim’s mouth, and there was nothing to save her from the fall that came with shocking speed and force.

Her whole body was throbbing in the aftermath of an explosive orgasm. Salim moved up her body, and when she could open her eyes again she saw there was a distinctly smug look on his face.

He said roughly, ‘You don’t know how much I have wanted to see you undone like this...’

In a surprisingly tender move he brushed some hair off her face. She could feel that it was damp, but she was too sated to care what she looked like. Her legs were spread in wanton abandonment and she could feel his body against hers. Hard. Needy.

Instinctively she reached for him, wanting to know how that stiff column of flesh would feel.