The Royal Conquest(57)

A strangled groan escaped Mikhail’s lips. The feel of her slick heated flesh slowly engulfing the crest of his cock nearly drove him to his knees. Pleasure rippled from his engorged length to his balls.

“Marry me, Payton.”

Her eyes flared. “No.”

He’d never felt this lust curling through him with another woman. He clenched his teeth against the searing pleasure. The edges of his control frayed, he coasted his hands up to the curve of her back, hugging her close to him, and drew her down to meet his upward plunge.

“Mikhail!”

Her cry echoed in the cottage. She tugged at her wrists, but the knotted cravat held firm. He brushed his thumb over her trembling lips. Then without any urging from him, she rode him slowly, rolling her hips in a rhythm that was instinctively sensual and decadent.

Mikhail gripped her hips, encouraging her wicked motions, and she groaned. Need coiled hot and intense through him. He wanted everything.

“Mikhail.” Her moans poured through the air as she rocked on his length.

Lust rippled through him at the picture she presented, her hands bound, her back arched, the graceful curve of her throat on tantalizing display, her tangled hair rippling down her back and cascading over his knees, her skin sweat-drenched. She was so beautiful.

He lifted her and dropped her down on his length with strength. A low, keening cry broke from her throat as he seated her fully on his cock. He stood with her, tugging at the knots at her wrists to loosen them. He tumbled with her to the bed, keeping his weight on his arms. “Grip the pillows and do not release them.”

She gasped, growing even wetter, and he groaned low in his throat. She was so wonderfully responsive.

“Wrap your legs around my hips.”

Her eyes flared, and a sensual smile curved her lips. She complied, and he withdrew and plunged into her with the full force of his desire driving him. She whimpered but her flesh parted to take him, and she arched her hips into his ravenous thrusts. He pressed his nose into the hollow at the base of her neck and let his world catch fire.

Mikhail drowned himself in the maddening bliss of being surrounded by her wet heat. He made love to her fiercely, taking and giving, driving into her with a pounding rhythm that shook the cot against the wall. There was a distant clang in his head to remember her innocence, but she did not allow it with her whispered moans and pleas for more. Her breathing grew ragged, and she undulated underneath him with raw carnality, gripping his cock in the tightest, wettest clasp he’d ever experienced.

She was a sensualist, and she was his.

When the bliss claimed her, she clamped her supple legs around his waist, restricting his motions, burning him with cold ice at the feel of being trapped. She yelled her pleasure, and he lifted from the crook of her neck and claimed her lips. He rode her through her orgasm, and she sobbed and moaned all of her delight and need into his kiss, drawing his passion from him. He bit into the soft of her lips as he tumbled with her.



Payton’s heart raced, and sweat slicked her skin. She fought the sense of drowsy contentment and glanced at Mikhail. It was very difficult for her to remain distant and to hold onto the betrayal that had shafted her insides when they were entwined so intimately.

He lay on top of her, cradled between her thighs, holding his weight off her by resting on one of his elbows. His other hand cupped her cheek, and she could not tear herself from the intensity of his stare.

“I can see the distance in your eyes,” he said softly.

“And I can feel it in your touch.”

His muscles locked, and her heart pounded.

“This was farewell, Mikhail.” She pushed the words past the lump in her throat.

He held her gaze for the longest time, not speaking or protesting. His blue eyes darkened with an emotion she was unable to decipher. Lacing his fingers through hers, he pressed her hands above her head and shifted between her thighs.

She gasped as she felt the broad length of him against her tender entrance. Without releasing her from the power of his mesmerizing gaze, he thrust deep and embedded himself in one hard stroke. The cry strangled in her throat. She felt deliciously impaled, the penetration stretching her despite the wetness of her flesh. But the shocking and devastating thing was the brutal punch of pleasure that roared inside her and shattered her into pieces.

A low, sensual chuckle came from him.

Heat dusted her cheeks. He had brought her to pleasure from simply entering her body. She tugged at her hands, and he released them. She wound her hands around his neck, tugging his lips to hers. “This does not mean anything,” she whispered hoarsely.

He froze, and it was a dagger to her heart. She slowly slipped her hands from his skin and fisted them in the sheets.