Lessons from a Scandalous Bride (Forgotten Princesses #2)(64)

He grabbed her hands and pulled them down, stepping close, encroaching on her space. “I suppose I should feel flattered you’re so jealous.”

“Jealous?” She winced at the shrill quality to her voice. Swallowing, she tried again, her tone much more even and controlled as she said, “Hardly that, I can assure you!”

He angled his head and stared down at her, his expression stark. “Don’t let this destroy us before we’ve even had a chance.”

“We never had a chance. I see that now.”

His face hardened, his eyes darkening so much that they didn’t even look gray any more but black instead. “That’s what you think?”

She nodded, a painful lump rising in her throat.

Turning, he marched for the door. “Perhaps you’re right then.”

She flinched as he yanked open the door. She pressed her lips into a thin line, almost as though she didn’t trust herself not to call him back. What a terrible contrary creature she was . . . her body in constant battle with her head.

His chest rose and fell on a deep breath. “If we never had a chance, it’s because you decided that from the start.”

She opened her mouth to argue, but managed only a small squeak when he slammed the door shut again and charged toward her.

She backed up several steps until she collided with one of the bedposts.

“You’re a prisoner of your fears. I’m not your father. I’m not your stepfather.” His hands came up to seize her arms. “And you’re not your mother.”

His words flayed her. Tears burned her eyes. Her voice shook unconvincingly. “You don’t know . . .”

“I’ve got a better grasp on what’s real than you do.” His eyes sparked like shards of ice. “And I know this.” Before she could react, he forced a punishing kiss on her, trapping her hands between them. She balled her hands into fists, desperate to strike him, but could not free them.

He came up for air, growling against her mouth, “You know that I didn’t betray you out in that corridor . . . not hours after I spent loving you in this bed. You’re looking for a reason to run, and I won’t let you.”

“I know no such thing.”

“Stubborn,” he rasped and then kissed her again. This time less punishing, but no less consuming.

Heat blossomed where their mouths fused. She didn’t know the moment everything changed but it did. Her hands loosened, palms turning outward to splay against his chest. Her mouth softened and opened to him. She kissed him back, her anger releasing itself in this. In passion.

Now she knew what to do. She’d had a taste, a sample, and she couldn’t resist what her body craved, needed like air.

He picked her up off her feet and dropped her down on the bed. They came at each other hastily. His hands dove beneath her skirts as he settled between her thighs. She reached for the front of his trousers, fumbling to free him.

Their lips never severed. They kissed hotly, tongues mating. She gasped into his mouth as the hard length of him sprang into her hand, silk on steel, thick and pulsing hard. She wrapped her fingers around him and squeezed. A shudder racked his body.

And then he was there, shoving inside her with one smooth thrust. Her body took him, eager and ready. He moved fast and hard, every stroke slick with their desire.

His fingers dug into her hips, gripping her for his sensual assault. She cried out, whimpering as he increased his pace. He lifted her higher off the bed, and the position did something to her—each plunging thrust ignited her, struck some unidentifiable spot in her clenching core. Sensation ripped through her, sparking each nerve ending.

She arched her spine, anxious to accommodate. The delicious friction grew, became unbearable. She fisted the bed at her sides, a boneless, quivering mass as he worked over her. It was close . . . that place where she’d exploded into a million tiny particles before. She kissed him harder, bit down on his lips.

He moaned and slammed into her, flinging them both over the edge. Cleo shouted, bursting from the inside out. Shivers rippled over her. He came over her, his weight covering her even as he remained lodged inside her.

For a long moment, she reveled in it. The delicious weight of him. His pulsing member inside her. And then horror arrived in full force.

She beat him on the shoulder. “You didn’t stop!”

He’d stayed inside her the entire time. Even now she could feel the wetness of his seed between her thighs.

He pulled back to look down at her, his expression slightly dazed. She hit his shoulder again. “Was this your ploy to chain me to you? Get me with child so that you can trap me forever?” she cried.

Comprehension washed over his face. “I didn’t intend—”

“Get off me,” she choked, having no desire to hear his lies.

He rolled off her.

She scooted to the edge of the bed, her shaking hands tidying her garments. “It won’t work. I’m leaving.”

“You’re my wife—”

“I don’t require the reminder.” She faced him, shaking from what just happened—from the possibility that she could now be with child. “I never wanted this.”

He stared at her, his eyes hard pewter again, all the softness gone.

“I’ll return home with my father. I’ll simply explain that I can’t live here. The marriage will still stand, as does the settlement. You’ll get your money. And I’ll keep a portion, as promised . . . for my family,” she reminded.