Royal Recruit - Susan Grant Page 0,52

his hips to meet hers.

Her head hung low. Her hair swept over his face, tickling him and filling his nostrils with her floral scent, now sharp with musk. “There,” she whispered. “It’s done.”

“Baby, it’s not close to being done. In the goddesses’ viewpoint, maybe, but not mine.” He throbbed, aching to pump into her. Spread-eagle, there was little he could about it. “I can hardly move. You have to.” He lifted his hips, urging her. “Come on, sweetheart,” he rasped.

He was a take-charge kind of guy in bed, but there was something erotically charged about leaving the whole show up to Keira. If she didn’t start moving, he was going to explode. He probably was, anyway, but he was desperate for the friction.

She arched over him with catlike grace as she lifted up. He met her halfway on the way down, driving deep, almost to her womb.

“Again,” he begged her. “Keep moving.” His fists clenched in the cuffs, the cables whirring. “Yes, like that,” he whispered as she rocked, finding a rhythm with his guidance. She was so snug around him, so wet.

He put pressure against the leg restraints, needing to move his legs, but unable to do it. He thrust upward, groaning. She rotated her hips, grinding against him. She was incredible. The way she felt, the way she smelled. She was his—his wife. His woman. He’d never dreamed marriage would be such a turn-on.

His hips lifted off the floor even though it was killing his arms. She sank her fingers into his shoulders. The soft sounds she made drove him closer to the edge.

Keira’s eyes grew darker and wilder the longer they made love. There was something in them he hadn’t seen before. She held his stare as she circled her hips, lifting and plunging, making him groan. It was control, he realized. She felt in control. And as she took that control fully, he lost it.

“Keira!” Her name came out in an explosive burst of air. He rode a peak so powerful that it almost hurt. And then his release swept over him like a tidal wave, rocking him.

Keira clung to him, grinding against him until the last of the convulsions eased.

Her tangled hair sifted across his face as she raised her head. She was smiling, a tired, satisfied smile. But she hadn’t had an orgasm that he could tell. It didn’t surprise him. She was inexperienced and he hadn’t been able to touch her the way he’d wanted. “Next time when you have a climax, it’ll be when I’m inside you,” he promised.

“Why?”

“Because you won’t believe how good it will feel.”

She shook her head. “Why do you care? You have me now. Why do you work so hard to make it better?”

“You’re my wife. That means something to me.”

She regarded him intently, seeming to really see him, for the first time. She didn’t have to say a thing; he knew what the woman was thinking. She’d expected him to be a first-rate jerk, and now she realized he wasn’t half-bad. Call them even. He’d expected her to be a bitch and a high-maintenance diva. But he’d gotten a peek inside her, a glimpse that told him some of that was an act. Or so he hoped.

At least they got along when they had sex. That was as good of a start as any for an arranged marriage. They could work on getting along out of bed later. He’d make sure of it.

Chapter Fourteen

After inviting the Terran to her bathing hall for a long bath together, during which he made good on his delicious sexual promise, Keira retreated to her private chambers to dress for dinner.

Not Terran, she mentally corrected as a eunuch styled her hair. Husband.

Jared.

“Jared, Prince of Earth.” Sitting in front of the mirror, she felt fluttery as she murmured his name. Not too long ago, those same flutters had caused her to cry out as he’d moved deep inside her. She’d been so wildly aroused by his magic touch that all her inhibitions had fallen away.

She hadn’t always been sure what to do, where to touch, how to move, but he’d shown her with patience and laughter. The mere memory of their playfulness conjured a warm, thick feeling low in her belly all over again. The mating had been so far beyond her expectations that it had seemed a different experience entirely.

Perhaps it was the spontaneity of it; she’d expected the evening would go very differently. To think she’d intended to make the Terran