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The Royal Conquest(56)

By:Stacy Reid


He murmured soothing reassurances when she jerked at the sharp lash of pleasure and pain. Payton arched, lifting to her toes, and bit into his shoulder through his jacket, a sob of need hissing through her teeth.

“Release my hands,” she pleaded with a whimper. She desperately needed an anchor, needed to touch him, to hold onto anything that would help her ride the waves of sensations coursing through her body.

“No.”

Mikhail nudged her legs wide and pushed his fingers deeper, stroking her over and over. The sensations peaked in her belly, and she started to tremble. On a wordless cry, Payton let ecstasy consume her, shuddering as waves of release rolled through her.

“Are you well?” The sensual rasp of his voice calmed her, soothing the edges of raw need that still lingered.

“You are still clothed.” Her voice was thick with arousal.

He eased from her, and she glanced up into his shuttered eyes.

What is it?

He removed his waistcoat and shirt with quick movements, baring his wonderfully sculpted chest. She gasped as he gripped her by the hips and lifted. Payton instinctively circled his thighs with her legs to prevent herself from falling. Her bound hands did not allow her to clasp him for purchase. Strong arms came around her back and hips, holding her to him until he settled into the winged-back chair near the fire.

He eased her off his lap ever so slightly and undid the buttons to his trousers. It was then she realized he would not fully undress, that he would eschew all form of skin on skin contact, for he settled her on his thighs and positioned her so she could not lean on his naked flesh.

A hard brush of velvet steel caressed against her, and she lowered her eyes to his lap.

Her breath caught audibly at his thick length. She wanted to explore him, to feel his vitality in her palm. The ache in her heart grew unbearable.

“I wish…”

He skimmed a light caress over her trembling lips. “I know,” he said, his voice low and rough, but unyielding.

He lowered his hand from her cheek, leaned forward and reached behind her, gripping the middle of the tied cravat. Then he pulled her into him and slanted his lips over hers. They kissed tenderly…and deeply. With a soft moan she parted her lips for him, allowing the passion to sweep her away, burying the flare of hurt of not being able to touch him.

His other hand slid over her buttocks and squeezed, before drifting around to her heated center, sliding a finger deep, never releasing her lips from their heated embrace.

It was the only part of her he allowed to cling to him with such fervor, and even as she trembled at the devastating pleasure peaking with every slide and dip of his fingers, she coaxed his lips to never release hers. Each kiss went deeper, lingered longer, connecting them on a more profound level of intimacy than she’d ever explored with him. Each kiss communicated regret and longing, hurt and acceptance. And God help her, but she felt the burning love.

The steady drops of rain against the windows, his taste, his scent, the beat of her heart, the firm caress against her nub of pleasure pounded delight through her veins. Her eyes fluttered open and she rode the pleasure, staring into the dark desire in his eyes.

He shifted, widening her legs bracketing his thighs, and the thick, broad edge of his erection nudged at her soft wetness. A dull aching pulse began to throb between her thighs. Sweat coated her skin; she trembled on him and, with a soft sigh, she arched and let him in, accepting the penetration.

For she could do nothing but submit to the yearning desire simmering between them.





Chapter Fifteen

Mikhail needed to obliterate the pain in her golden eyes, wanted to brand her with passion so she was not capable of leaving. The relentless need to claim her irrevocably as his, rose hot and powerful inside. She was becoming everything to him, and he did not want to lose her, not her stubbornness, her fierce pride, or her captivating mix of vulnerability and strength.

Her hair, as rich as autumn leaves, flowed down her back, and her eyes glowed with wanton heat. Holding her gaze, he pulled her onto his aching length slowly and relentlessly. She was so damned tight. Sweat beaded his brow. Her teeth sank into her plump bottom lip, and her beautiful eyes glittered with apprehension and arousal. Mikhail slid his hand along the curves of her thighs, worshipping the feel of her lush body, up to her hips, round to the globes of her ass where he tightened his grip.

A sob hitched in her throat, but he did not stop. He had ensured he brought her to pleasure so she was wet enough to take his thick length.

“Arch your breast to me.”

Her eyes widened but she complied. The move pressed her sweat-drenched body against his chest. He groaned at the friction of her bare skin rasping against his, a primitive triumph twisting inside, for the sensation did not repel him. Her nipples were a dusky pink, and he took a hardened nipple between his teeth and bit, before rolling it gently and sucking. She damn well purred, then shivered on his cock, bathing him in liquid heat.