The Royal Conquest(55)

She reached up and clasped the hands cupping her cheeks, and he froze. Denial roiled through her blood. “Except my touch. You said you also pursued me because you did not hate the idea of me touching you. But you still deny me the pleasure of learning you, threading our fingers together as we stroll by the lake, the comfort of holding you when you despair, the simple joy of hugging you when I am happy.” She dropped her hand, a different type of pain pulling at her heart. “Tell me, Mikhail, will you allow me to touch you eventually?”

Awful silence.

She tried to step back, and he drew her close.

“No, do not pull from me,” he said, kissing the corner of her mouth.

Awareness hummed in her veins. “I must. You tempt me with a life in which I know I will find despair.”

“I am falling in love with you, Payton. You are the first woman to make me hunger for the feel of your touch, the first to make me laugh so easily, and the only one to make me dream of idle days by the fire, or in bed, wrapped around you, drowning in your scent as I drive you to completion. You tempt me to relinquish control to you. Never before have I possessed such thoughts.”

A dangerous thrill shot through her and, before she could respond, he kissed her. She allowed the fire of lust to consume her world, willingly burning away the doubt and hurt, to only bask in the moment of sheer pleasure, for she would never again feel such joy in a man’s arms.

His lips devoured her, and he stroked his tongue in her mouth with ruthless persuasion. But his touch at her nape and hip was a gentle caress, a soothing glide over her fevered flesh in the midst of the storm into which his sensual assault drew her.

She clasped his shoulders, and he pulled from her. Gripping her hands, he kissed her knuckles, then lowered them to her side and pushed them behind her, holding her hands at her back in a gentle but ironclad clasp. The move thrust her breast outward, an offering for him to touch and taste.

“I cannot allow you to touch me.” Regret and pain swirled in his gaze.

Her heart thudded. “I know,” she said.

“I am going to take you.”

A soft whimper escaped her lips. “I know.”

“And I will bind you to my bed when I do so.”

Danger and anticipation prickled along her senses. “Once again you are speaking too much.”

His low laugh created a sweet ache that filled her chest. He released her hands and stepped away from her. Then he tugged at his simple cravat, pulling it from his neck. His eyes, glittering and aroused, pinned her to the spot. Mikhail moved behind her, unbuttoned and unlaced her corset and the tapes to her petticoats, and pushed them from her hips. In complete silence he removed stays, chemise, stockings, and drawers. Payton trembled when she stood wantonly naked, his comforting weight pressing into her from behind.

“Everything in me is urging me to lift you to the bed and place you on your knees and elbows, sink my cock into you, and give you pleasure until you are trembling from the intensity,” he said softly at her nape, licking along the arch of her throat.

The images that erupted in Payton’s mind had a distinct appeal, and her breathing fractured, and in utter shock she could feel the moisture pooling between her legs.

“But I find I cannot bear the idea of not seeing your eyes, your face blushing with passion, another anomaly I endure when it comes to you, Payton.”

He encircled her wrists, and the silken press of his cravat glided against her skin as he bound her wrists together at her back. Her awareness of him was acute and intense.

He tugged, testing the knot’s firmness. Then he removed the pins from her hair, tumbling the heavy coil to her lower back. He glided around her and barely placed his lips against hers. The caress was subtle, but Payton felt as if he breathed her in.

“If you ever want me to release your bonds, call me Alexander.”

Then the kiss grew deeper, and her heart raced, for the intensity of his mouth as it roved over hers bespoke need, a claiming.

He glided the tips of his fingers over her hips, up her side with firm pressure, leaving fire in his wake. She moaned, leaning farther into his caress, instinctively tugging at the restraints, needing to twine herself around him and hold him to her.

She sobbed into his kiss as the visceral need was denied, but was drawn into a vortex of pulse-pounding pleasure as he ravaged her lips.

He cupped her breast, flicking a thumb over her straining nub. Oh, his touch. It is glorious. Her nipple beaded, and the delicious throb started low between her thighs. As if he sensed her rising need, he nudged her legs wide, snaked his hand down, and cupped her most intimate part. Then he stroked her, and Payton’s knees nearly gave.

She pulled from their kiss, dropping her forehead to his shoulder as he continued his wicked torment. His fingers were magical as he strummed and caressed her straining knot of pleasure, before sliding two fingers deep…and deliciously hard.