Marrying Her Royal Enemy (11 page)

The clock struck midnight. It was as if an invisible line had been crossed. Kostas murmured something to the wedding planner, retrieved her from the dance floor and led her to the exit. The room was still boisterous and loud, but all she could hear was the pounding of her heart.

CHAPTER NINE

W
HY
WASN
’
T
THERE
air in this room?

Stella kicked her shoes off in the newly renovated master suite that had been transformed into a sumptuous, warm retreat by their genius of a designer, retaining the room’s exposed stone walls and medieval ambience.

Plush, comfortable chairs formed a sitting area overlooking the tall windows. A mahogany canopy bed with intricately crafted pillars draped in gold brocade overlooked it, with a separate area at the far end of the room for dressing.

It was dreamy, gorgeous, but right now it seemed
claustrophobic
.

She walked to the French doors and threw them open. The cool, crisp air floating down off the mountains kissed her overheated skin. Drawing in a deep breath, she stood, looking out at the rugged, forbidding landscape, so harsh compared to Akathinia’s sparkling, gilded beauty. It only underscored the different world she now lived in; how that world was shifting beneath her feet.

Her pulse ticked at an elevated rate she couldn’t seem to regulate, a heat consumed her cheeks and her knees felt weak. Crazy, because she’d had sex before, she knew how this worked. But she was also aware it was going to be different, very different with Kostas. He touched an elemental part of her no one else ever had.

A skitter across her skin was the only notice she had before strong arms slid around her waist and pulled her back against a warm male body, one big enough to secure her compliance with anything he chose to do to her. But she knew Kostas would never have to resort to that with a woman. His strength would be used only for pleasure.
Hers.

His lips found the sensitive skin below her ear. Her swift intake of breath was all too revealing.

“Why are you so nervous?”

Because the last time she’d put herself in this position he’d cruelly rejected her.
A decade ago, Stella. Time to get over it.
And yet still it hurt.

She gave him a half truth. “Sex is an intimate thing. It’s hard for me to remain unaffected by it.”

“Despite your determination to do so.” He set his mouth to her shoulder, teeth scraping over her sensitive skin. “Is that what today was all about? Remaining unaffected by me?”

A shudder raked through her. “What do you mean?”

He sank his teeth into her skin, a tiny nip meant to punish. “I mean the return of the aloof, distant Stella I dislike. She disappears tonight,
yineka mou
. Those layers of ice you like to hide behind?
Gone.
”

She struggled to regulate her pounding heart as his tongue laved the tiny bite he’d administered. “So I can take care of those
needs
you talked about?”

“No,” he said throatily, “so I can take care of
yours
. You want this so badly you can taste it,
moro mou
, but you aren’t sure how to engage.”

So utterly true.
Her stomach hollowed out, a shiver rippling across her skin. She took a deep breath, attempting to regain control. “I bought some lingerie... I should go put it on.”

“We don’t need lingerie, Stella.” His mouth scored her other shoulder, sending another wave of shivers dancing across her skin. “The chemistry we share is more than enough.”

Apparently so.
“I bought it especially for you,” she protested, her voice raspy. “You don’t want to see it?”

“What color is it?”

“
Not
red.”

“Pity.” He reached up and unzipped her dress, pulling the metal slide down past the small of her back to her hips, where a tiny hook held the dress together. Undoing that, too, he ran a possessive hand up her spine, his caress a clear declaration of ownership. “Go. Put your armor on if you need to.”

Finding refuge from her exploding pulse in the luxurious dressing area she and the designer had fashioned with deep walk-in closets, she lifted the dress over her head, hung it up like the precious piece that it was, then exchanged her nondescript, line-minimizing underwear for a beautiful sapphire silk baby doll and its matching panties.

The nightie came just to the top of her thighs, the lace cutouts at the sides hinting at the curves of her breasts and hips. It might be the armor Kostas had so astutely described it as, but it made her feel sexy and desirable, gave her the confidence she needed right now.

Pulling the dozens of pins out of her hair and running her fingers through it, she removed her jewelry and gave her still perfect makeup a once-over. She was ready. Of course,
ready
was a relative term. How could she ever really be
ready
?

Anticipation sizzling in her veins, she returned to the bedroom. Kostas had taken off his tie, leaving him in a crisp white shirt he’d partially unbuttoned and dark trousers. His gaze shifted from the cuff links he was removing to her. Setting the gold pieces on the dresser, he turned and leaned back against the wood, the heat in his catlike eyes licking at her skin like a flame.

“Come here.”

Her legs continued to evade full functionality—she felt vastly incompetent as she moved toward him. When she was within striking distance, he snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her into him with a swiftness that stole her breath.

Setting his big hands on the back of her bare thighs, he swept them up over the curve of her bottom to her waist. Fingers tightening, he lifted her onto the dresser, perching her on the edge while he cleared its contents with his free hand. Coins, cuff links and various other paraphernalia scattered to the floor, metal skimming across stone. Her heart hammered in her ears as she stared up at him. He was all dominant, aggressive male.

She had asked for this.

A slow burn worked its way across his olive-skinned cheeks. He was just as caught up in the moment as she was, she realized, just before he captured a chunk of her hair, tilted her head back and took her mouth in a kiss that was surprising in its gentle edge. Breathing into him, she rested her hands on his waist and returned it. Kiss for kiss, they exchanged intimacies until her entire body was pliant, melting, utterly his to command.

Opening to the heat of his tongue, her palm slid up to brace against his chest as he invaded, stroking deep inside her, forecasting how intimately he wanted to know her body. Dark and heady, the erotically charged essence of him made her toes curl.

Mouths separating, they sought air. Kostas rested his forehead against hers, his breathing rough. “Do you understand how badly I wanted you that night? How hard it was for me to put you on the other side of that door? I felt like I’d walked into the Garden of Eden and been told to keep my hands to myself.”

“I didn’t tell you that.”

“I was wiser than you.”

No, you weren’t. It should have been with you.
She kept that thought to herself as she leaned forward to kiss him again.

“No.” He pushed her back until her hands braced themselves on the wood.
Utterly at his mercy.
“Stay put.”

Her heart roared in her ears. His gaze settled on the rise and fall of her chest. The peaks of her breasts were hard, betraying points beneath the transparent silk. Bending, he took a hard peak into the heat of his mouth, sucking her deep inside. Alternating that excruciatingly delicious caress with gentle nips of his teeth, then soothing laves of his tongue, he sent liquid heat pooling between her thighs.

A low moan escaped her throat. He switched his attention to her other nipple, engorged and waiting for him now, administering the same exquisite torment until her low whimpers became an urgent plea.

Lifting his mouth from her breast, he clasped her hips and dragged her forward. His long fingers left a searing imprint on that sensitive, smooth, most intimate flesh. He took her mouth as he traced the inside edges of her panties with his thumbs. It was close, but not close enough to where she wanted him to touch her. A low mewl left her throat.

Abandoning the kiss, he took hold of the sides of her panties and stripped them off her, Stella lifting her hips to help him. His big hand cupped her hot, aching flesh in the most possessive of caresses. She gasped as a lightning bolt of sensation tore through her.

Sliding his other palm beneath her hips, his eyes held hers as he parted her slick, smooth flesh and filled her with one of his big, long fingers. She was wet, took him easily, her muscles clenching around him. It was good.
Too good.
She closed her eyes, a shudder raking through her.

He withdrew and filled her again, setting up a smooth rhythm that had her hips chasing his hand. The pressure inside her built fast and hard, her nails digging into the wood.

“I’m big,” he murmured in her ear, his breath a heated caress. “You have to be ready for me. Would you like to come like this for me first?”

The last question was part purr, part tease, the animal in him in full evidence. Her cheeks flamed, her tongue struggling to find itself as the pleasure washed over her.

“I need an answer.”

“Yes.”
Thee mou
, yes. Her gaze found his. “Do you always talk like this?”

“Always. It’s how I know I’m giving a woman pleasure.”

Oh, my.

“There is another condition.”

“What?”

“You have to watch. That part is for me.”

She opened her eyes. He rewarded her with deeper, harder strokes. It was like getting lost in a storm, watching her pleasure written across his beautiful amber eyes, every moan, every whimper she let go reflected back at her. Her insides tightened as he worked her, pushing her toward orgasm, but every time she got close, he slowed it down and teased her with shallower strokes, keeping her release maddeningly out of reach.

“Is that good?” he asked, leaning forward to kiss her.

“So good.”

“You want me to let you come?”

“Yes.”

Drawing back, he withdrew his finger, then came inside of her with two. Thick and powerful, his fingers stretched her, filled her, tearing an animal-like moan from her throat.
So insanely good.

“Please.”

He was intent on pulling her apart. Intent on dismantling every single one of her defenses. She saw it in his eyes. He must have decided he’d accomplished his goal because he increased his rhythm then. She felt feverish, consumed by the sensations he was lavishing on her, her hips matching him stroke for stroke. When he slipped his thumb over the tight bundle of nerves at the core of her, his eyes darkening with purpose, and stroked her with a single, deliberate movement, she screamed.

The room blacked out around her.

* * *

Kostas carried a limp, sated Stella to the bed, setting her down beside it. Satisfaction pulsed through him at her explosive release. He had intended on breaking down every one of her walls, shattering that ice-cold composure she’d been wearing all day. Instead, her beautifully uninhibited response had taken him apart.

That she
affected
him was an understatement. Stella’s impact on him had always been like a critical blood transfusion, injecting a life—a
need
—in him that escaped the boundaries of the rigidly held control he prized and made him want more. Made him want to
be
more; to be a flesh-and-blood man, capable of all the human emotion he’d never allowed himself.

She had been the only thing making him feel alive these past few weeks when taking on this rebellious, wounded country had seemed beyond any one man’s ability, a constant, determined presence who had grounded him with the power of her tenacity. But thinking he could ever be the man Stella needed or wanted beyond the respect and affection he’d promised her was a recipe for disaster. Better to be realistic about what this relationship was—a partnership with intense, sexual chemistry.

Pushing his mind firmly back into realistic territory, he swept his gaze over her. All long limbs and slim curves, her golden skin gleaming in the light, hair mussed from his hands, she reminded him of an ancient Greek goddess: strong, brave, fearless.
Almost
fearless.

The flush darkening her cheeks drew his eye. Raising his hand, he trailed the back of his knuckles across the stain of color. “What?”

“Your body is a work of art. I want to see you.”

Need clawed at his insides, swift and hard. “It’s yours now,
glykeia mou
,” he said huskily, capturing her hand and carrying it to the erection that swelled the front placket of his trousers. “For use immediately,
urgently
, in fact.”

Heat blazed in her beautiful blue eyes. Spreading her palm wide, she traced the size and shape of him as he moved her fingers over his heat. A low, rough word escaped him as he arched into her touch. “Undress me.”

She moved her fingers to the top button of his shirt, working her way down, the brush of her fingertips against his skin setting him on fire. Grasping hold of the collar of his shirt, she pushed it off his shoulders and let it drop to the floor. Feminine appreciation lit her gaze as it traveled over him. “You are insanely beautiful.”

His mouth curved. “Should a man take that as a compliment?”

“Yes.” The rasp in her voice made his heart thump against his chest.

Her fingers moved to his belt. She unbuckled it, then undid the button of his pants and slid down the zipper. His erection throbbed with every beat of his heart, hard and painfully ready to have her. He hadn’t had a woman in over a year—since everything had fallen apart—but he knew it was the woman touching him that elicited his need, awakened his hunger, not the time that had passed.

She sank her fingers into the waistband of his trousers and worked them over his hips and to the floor. He stepped out of them, adding his close-fitting black boxers to the pile. Her eyes were riveted to the jutting erection that skimmed his abdomen, fascination warring with...
apprehension
?

Curving an arm around her waist, he caught her against him. “You saw me that night in my bed.”