His brow pinched into a hard V and his voice drew gruff. “You do not want to be my bride?”
She couldn’t have helped the chuckle if she’d tried. His expression was too priceless. A boy’s pout transposed on a man’s handsome face. “I want to be with you. Learn more about you. And after we’ve taken some time and both of us feel certain, I want you to ask me to marry you. Not assume I’m a forgone conclusion.”
He smiled at that. The nefarious grin of a man well accustomed to earning what he wanted come hell or high water. “You want to be courted.”
“No!”
He nodded. “Yes, you will be courted. It is fitting.” He cupped the side of her face, pure determination marking his gray eyes as he lowered his head. “Fitting for my Queen.”
His lips claimed hers before she could argue. Swept her beyond words and thought and reason with a single stroke of his tongue against hers. Damn, but he tasted good. A unique flavor that made her think of cinnamon and sultry nights. That worked her body like a key and made everything inside her unlock and unfurl for his attention.
He shifted and gave her a bit more of his weight, trailing hungry licks and nips along her jawline and down her neck. “It was good to find you at my table when I came home.”
Good.
Yes.
Everything he was doing was good. Especially the hard length of him straining behind his jeans and pressing perfectly against her clit.
His kisses moved lower, following her top’s neckline. He nudged the fabric farther and teased the swell of one breast with his tongue. “I like hearing about your day and seeing your smile when I walk through the door.”
For crying out loud, why was he talking? He needed to be doing. Rolling his hips against hers. Taking her nipple in his mouth. Losing his clothes so she could feel him skin to skin. Anything except talking.
She wriggled, trying to gain the friction she wanted, but he pulled back, shifted to his knees and eyed her with pure wickedness. He slipped his hands beneath her tank and lifted it up and over her head. “But there is one other benefit that will be my undoing. The temptation that will earn me much grief from my brothers.” Just as quickly, he peeled her bottoms down her hips and tossed them to the floor.
Cool air assailed her skin. Sent goose bumps skittering in all directions. “Wh-what’s that?”
The stuttered words were the best she could do, too much of her mind gripped by the sheer fascination of watching him stand and shed his clothes. She should have been ashamed. Or at least a little remorseful for the way she ogled him every time he was naked, but she could no more stop herself than she could stop breathing. He was a visual feast. A dark Viking who knew exactly the impact he had on her and took great pride in letting her look her fill.
He crawled toward her, the intensity and power that clung to him enveloping her the closer he got. “At the end of the day, I will always have this.”
Heat. Pure, decadent, masculine heat. It blanketed her chest to toes and fired the same instinctive need and odd peace she’d wrestled since his first kiss. She couldn’t explain it. Had yet to even fully accept whatever it was that made her come alive beneath his touch, let alone find a way to fight its pull.
But it was there. Undeniable and ravenous for more.
She closed her eyes and savored as he explored her. Surrendered to his calloused, yet tender touch along her belly, hips and thighs. Delighted in each teasing kiss against her tight breasts and the wet heat of his mouth drawing on her taut nipples. All she knew—all she wanted—was him. His warmth. His passion and the surreal connection that burned between.
This was what it felt like to be adored. Revered. Valued and loved.
He painted a leisurely path down her belly with his lips and tongue. Greedily nuzzled the top of her sex and inhaled deep before fastening his mouth to her aching clit and suckling deep.
She bucked against him. Dug her heels into his back and shamelessly grasped the back of his head.
His approving growl rattled through her. Mingled with each insistent slash of his tongue and pushed her higher. Her belly tightened and the muscles in her sex quivered, poised to crest on a magnificent orgasm. “Roman...”
He pulled away and sat back on his heels, taking her release with him.
“Roman! I was close!”
His smile was completely unrepentant. The confession of a man who knew full well of the state he’d left her in and took great pleasure in her sexual frustration. “I know.”
“And you stopped?”
“Yes.” He leaned toward the nightstand and pulled a condom from the drawer.
“What? Why?”
Unhurriedly, he rolled the condom into place, his gaze never leaving hers. “Because I wanted you to know...that feeling—that ache—is what I feel for you every day.” He tugged her closer and draped her thighs over his, fully exposing her for his admiring perusal. He slicked the tip of his cock through her slit and notched himself inside. “When I look at you.” Keeping the tentative connection, he leaned forward. “When I touch you, or hear your voice.” He captured her hands, threaded his fingers with hers and braced their joined hands on either side of her head. “I ache.”
Oh. My. God.
The feel of him. The strength in his grip. The breadth of his body braced above her and the promise of feeling him slide inside. It was too much and not enough.
She smoothed her palms over the hot slab of muscles at his chest and let her eyes slip shut.
“Oh, no, moya koroleva. Open your eyes.”
Shit. He’d overwhelm her if she did. Would see too much of how she felt. How close she was to completely giving in.
He kissed her cheek. Her jawline. Each corner of her mouth. But otherwise withheld the connection she craved. “Give this to me, vozlyublennaya. I need to see them.”
Did she dare? Could she even manage it?
Slowly, she forced them open.
His own shone down on her, the tempestuous gray of a wild thunderstorm. “Yes...” He pressed forward. Achingly slow. Stretching her bit by bit. “Now you know. It’s me filling you.” He filled her to the hilt and ground his hips against hers. “Claiming you.”
Branded.
The words. The sensations. The visual and physical connection. They all worked together until she was branded. Bound to him in a way that defied comprehension.
He pumped inside her. Built a slow, but driving rhythm and held her gaze. “Take the time you need. Days. Months. Years.” He lowered his head and teased his lips upward along her jaw until his voice was a low rumble in her ear. “But your body knows.”
She gripped his ass. Marveled at each flex and release of the muscles beneath her palms and the wet sounds as he drove faster and deeper inside her.