The Queen's New Year Secret(22)

He moved his hands slowly along her inner thighs, avoiding the most feminine part of her. Relishing it when she shifted beneath his touch, a needy, disappointed sound escaping from her as he avoided the place he knew she was desperate for him to touch.

“Kairos,” she said, her tone holding a hint of steel. A hint of demand.

“Patience, agape,” he said.

“Why?” she asked, “I’ve waited five years for you to look at me like this. Why should I wait another moment?”

She was not wrong. He had never done this for her before. Had never tasted her.

He regretted it bitterly.

But he would not allow the regret to linger for much longer. Because he would satisfy that desire soon. Would satiate his appetite for her. But only after he had made her beg for it.

He moved his hand between her thighs, his finger gliding through her slick flesh, over the bundle of nerves there. She arched her back, letting her head fall back, thrusting her breasts forward, her chest rising and falling quickly with her sharp, uncontrolled breaths.

He teased the entrance to her body with his fingertips, spurred on by every restless shift of her hips as she sought out deeper penetration. “You want me,” he said, his voice so rocky he barely recognized it. “You really want me.”

“Yes,” she gasped. “Kairos, stop teasing me.”

“So wet for me, my sweet wife. I know you didn’t marry me because of any passion between us. But you do want me.” He didn’t know why he felt compelled to hear her say it. To hear her confirm it yet again. Perhaps because she had left him. Perhaps because he knew she had been unhappy for so long. Because he knew he had not satisfied her physical needs as well as he could have.

Because he needed to know, beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was not alone in this deep, howling need that overtook him completely. That made him feel restless and needy. That made him feel as though he would die if he was denied her. Forget oxygen, Tabitha was the most essential element for his survival.

And he needed to know that he wasn’t alone.

“I want you,” she said.

“More than you have ever wanted another man?”

“I have never wanted another man. You’re the only one. The only man I’ve ever kissed. The only one I’ve ever touched.”

On a feral growl, he moved his hands, gripping her hips hard and tugging her toward the edge of the couch as he lowered his head, tasting her deeply, all semblance of restrained seduction gone completely. He was starving for her. And she was the sweetest dessert he had ever conceived of. He had been a fool to have her all these years and never have her in this way. He had been a fool to have her in his life, in his bed, and to hold himself back from her.

He was lost in her, lost in this. Lost in the needy sounds she made, in the sweet, soft surrender of her entire body. She shuddered beneath him as release overtook her. And still, he didn’t stop. Didn’t stop until she was sobbing, until she was begging, until another climax overtook her and she was trembling.

“I can’t,” she said, her tone spent.

“You can,” he said, not sure where his confidence came from, not certain how he could make such a proclamation about her body. Only that in this moment, he felt as though he owned a part of it. A part of her. “You will.” He kissed her inner thigh before rising up and wrapping his arm around her waist, lowering her down onto her back and positioning himself over her. “I need you,” he said, kissing her lips deeply as he thrust into her.

She cried out, arching up against him, pressing her breasts against his chest, pushing her hips up against his as he buried himself inside of her. She met his every movement with one of her own, met each kiss, each sound of pleasure.

He tried to go slow, tried to keep things measured, controlled. But he was beyond any of that now. Beyond anything but his intense need for her. Arousal roared through his veins like a beast, overtaking him, consuming him. And he gave up on control. Gave up on slow. On gentle or restrained. He slipped his hands beneath her bottom, drawing her up hard against him as he thrust in deep. As he increased the intensity, as he let the world fade away, he lost himself completely in the tight, wet heat of her body.

Her internal muscles clenched tightly around him, and he felt another orgasm radiating through her. It called irresistibly to the beast inside of him. As though it was just the thing he had been waiting for. It grabbed him by the throat and he could do nothing but submit to it. To the wild, unquenchable pleasure that gripped him tightly and shook him until he was left there, bleeding out on the ground, completely and utterly defeated by the strength of the desire that had claimed him.

When it was over, he realized where he was. Naked, utterly vulnerable, utterly claimed by the woman beneath him.

He had no walls up, no defenses.

And it was unacceptable.

He pushed away from her, forcing his fingers through his hair, resting his elbows on his thighs as he leaned forward, trying to catch his breath.

“Kairos?” Her voice was soft, questioning, and he hated himself for the bastard that he was. Hated that she was now asking for things that he could never give.

And it was his fault. Because he had given in to her. Because he had sought to bind her to him while knowing he would never be able to give all of himself. Still, even feeling like the lowest form of life on the planet, he knew he could do nothing else. He knew there was no other course of action to be taken. He needed her. Needed her in his life forever, and at the same time he knew his own weaknesses. Knew that he had to keep his defenses strong.

This could not be endured.

“Thank you for a lovely dessert, Tabitha,” he said, rising to his feet. “I find I am in need of a bit of solitude.”

He rose to his feet.

“Kairos,” she said, her voice shaky. “Stay.”

It was all so familiar. So blindingly, painfully familiar. In this scenario, she was the boy he’d been, abandoned, shunned.

And he had become the one leaving.

No. He was doing this for her. To spare her any more pain. To spare himself, the country, from what might happen if he were to ever surrender to his own base needs.

He was not the villain here. Even if she couldn’t see it now.

He turned away from her, walking from the room. And no matter how much he burned to take one last look at her, he refused. Denied himself now as he should have done from the first.

He had been weak tonight. He would not be so again.





CHAPTER ELEVEN

“KAIROS?”

The sound of Tabitha’s voice pierced Kairos’s sleep. He had gone back to his room after their encounter in the living room, and he had stayed there for the rest of the evening. At some point, in spite of his discomfort, he must have fallen asleep.

“What?” he asked, not quite awake enough to sort through whether or not it was strange she was waking him up in the middle of the night.

“Kairos,” she said, again. There was something in her voice that jolted him completely into wakefulness. Something tremulous, something terrified.

“What is it?”

“I’m bleeding.” The word ended on a sob. “Kairos, I’m bleeding.”

He shot out of bed, giving no thought to clothes, giving no thought to anything but figuring out what was happening. “What do you mean you’re...?” It hit him then, exactly what it meant. “The baby.”

He flipped the light on, and got a look at her face, her eyes large, her skin waxen. He had never seen Tabitha look quite like this. It occurred to him then that she might also be in danger. “How much blood?”

“Enough.”

“How do you feel?”

“Terrified.”

“I meant do you feel like you’ve lost too much blood?”

Her eyes grew rounder still. “Too much blood for someone who’s having a baby.”

“I need to call someone,” he said. In that moment, his brain was blank, and he had no idea who to call. Why could he think of nothing? He was renowned for being cool under pressure. He was king of an entire nation, after all. But everything he knew, everything he thought, everything he felt was wrapped up in utter terror.

A helicopter. They needed a helicopter.

That jolted him out of his frozen state, and he reached for the phone that was sitting on his nightstand, dialing his right-hand man of the palace with one touch. “The queen is having an emergency,” he said, his voice frayed. “We need a helicopter. Now. Medical personnel onboard would be ideal, but if that isn’t possible, speed is more important.”

“Of course, Your Highness,” his man said. “We should be able to send one from the closest island and have you back in Petras in less than an hour. Further instructions will be texted to you, as far as where you should wait to be picked up.”

Kairos hung up the phone, looking toward Tabitha. “Help will be here soon,” he said.

She only looked at him with very large eyes, and he realized how empty and useless his words were. “Will it be too late?”

Suddenly, all of his power, his title, his status, meant nothing. Everything he had worked his entire life to become was reduced to useless ash. He didn’t know the answer to the only question that mattered. He had no control over the outcome of the only thing Tabitha cared about in this moment. He could be a king, or he could be a homeless man, standing on a street corner begging for change. It wouldn’t make a difference in this moment. Never before had he been so aware of his own failings. Of his own limitations.