Royals_For Their Royal Heir Page 7

  Leila bit her lip and then nodded. Her belly contracted when Alix’s fingers came to her button and zip, undoing them both, and then he put his hands to the sides of her silk trousers to slide them down.

  She lifted her hips to help. When they were off Alix’s hands went to his own trousers, and with a swift economy of movement they were off too. Along with his underwear. He was now gloriously and unashamedly naked. Leila came up on her elbows, her eyes going wide at the sight of him.

  His body was a honed mass of hard muscles and masculine contours. She’d never seen anything like it. All the way from his shoulders and chest, down to slim hips and strong muscled thighs. Between his thighs and lower belly was a thicket of dark hair, out of which rose the very core of his virility. Long and thick and hard. Proud.

  As Leila watched he brought a hand to himself, stroking gently. It was so unbelievably sensual that her mouth dried even as other parts of her felt as if they were gushing with wet heat.

  When he took his hand from himself Leila fell back against the soft covers of the bed. Alix reached forward and gently pulled her panties free of her hips and legs. Dropping them to the floor.

  Now they were both naked, and Alix came alongside her on the bed. She could feel his bold erection against her thigh. A potent invitation. But she was too shy to explore him there.

  Instead, he kissed her—long, drugging kisses that sent her out of her mind completely as his hands explored her body, squeezing her buttocks, her breasts, following the contours of her waist and hips. And then he was pushing her legs apart and long fingers were exploring her there, where no one had ever touched her. Not even herself.

  In a moment of panic at this intimate exploration she reached down and put a hand on his, stopping him. She looked at him, breath laboured, feeling hot.

  One of Alix’s thighs was between her legs and she could feel the heat of him there, very close to the apex of her legs, where his hand was. And as suddenly as she’d felt panic she felt an urgency she couldn’t understand. She took her hand away again.

  ‘I won’t hurt you, Leila.’ Alix promised. ‘Any moment you want to stop, just say and I will.’

  She nodded her head. ‘Thank you...’

  His hand started moving again, and when she felt him push one finger and then two inside her she let out a gasp, her head going back, eyes shut tight, as if that could control the almost violent reactions happening in her body.

  He was moving his fingers in and out and she could feel how wet she was. His movements got faster and the heel of his hand pressed against a part of her that needed more friction. Without even realising she was doing it Leila lifted her hips, pushing into him, seeking more.

  She was unaware of the smile of pure masculine satisfaction on Alix’s face as he watched her.

  There was something coiling so tight and deep within her that Leila begged incoherently for it to stop, or break, or do something. It was painful, but it was also the most exquisitely pleasurable thing she’d ever felt. And then suddenly her whole body was caught in the grip of a storm and she broke into a million pieces. She felt like the sun, the moon, stardust, pleasure and pain. All at once.

  When her body was as lax as if someone had drained every bone out of it, she opened her eyes and blinked.

  Alix looked vaguely incredulous. ‘That was your first orgasm?’

  Leila nodded faintly. She guessed it was. Living in such a small space with her mother hadn’t exactly been conducive to normal female exploration. And then she’d been so grief-stricken and busy...

  The expression on Alix’s face changed from incredulous to intent. He moved so that his body lay between her legs, forcing them apart. Leila still felt sensitive down there, but as Alix moved against her subtly she found that excitement was growing again—a need for more even though more surely couldn’t be possible...

  Alix kissed her, surrounding her in his heat and strength. Leila moved her hands all over him—down his torso to his hips, his muscular buttocks. And all the while he was rocking against her gently, and that urgency was building in her again...for something...for him.

  He pulled his mouth away from her breast and she could feel the tip of his erection nudging against her opening, sliding in tantalisingly.

  ‘Are you okay?’

  She nodded. She wasn’t on earth any more. She was on some new and exotic planet where time and space had become immaterial. There was no real world any more.

  ‘Yes,’ she said out loud, so that there was no ambiguity.

  Alix’s jaw tightened. ‘This might hurt at first... Stay with me—it’ll get better, I promise.’

  And with that he thrust in, deep into Leila’s untried flesh, stretching her wide. She gasped and arched against him, part in rejection of his invasion and part in awe at how right it felt in spite of the pain—which was blinding and red-hot. But she took a breath and looked into Alix’s eyes, trusting him.

  He was so big and heavy inside her. And then he moved—slowly, deeper. Pushing against her resistance. And then he pulled out again. Leila could feel sweat break out on her brow, between her breasts. She’d never thought sex would be so gritty, base.

  Alix was relentless, moving in a little deeper each time, and as Leila’s flesh got used to him, accommodated him better, the awful sting of pain faded, becoming something else. Something much more pleasurable. Even more pleasurable than before.

  Something about Alix’s urgency was transmitted to her and Leila instinctively wrapped her legs around him. She felt inordinately tender in that moment, cradling this huge man between her legs, feeling the force of him inside her body.

  His movements got stronger, more powerful. And Leila’s hips were moving, circling. He reached down between them and touched her there, close to where he was thrusting. Circling his thumb, making stars explode behind her eyes, making her body tight with need again.

  She was gasping, her body arching against him, buttocks tightening as he pushed her to the very limit of her endurance and she fell again, down and down, from an even higher height than the first time.

  She was coasting on such a wave of bliss that she was barely aware of Alix’s own body, pumping hard into hers, before he too went taut and with a guttural groan exploded in a rush of heat inside her.

  * * *

  Leila came to when she felt herself being lifted out of the bed, pliant and weak. She managed to raise her head and open her eyes to see he was walking them into a dimly lit bathroom...acres of marble and golden fixtures.

  Steam was rising from a sunken bath that looked big enough to swim in, and Alix knelt and gently deposited Leila into the pleasantly hot water.

  She looked at him, properly awake now. ‘What are you doing?’

  He grimaced. ‘You’ll be sore...and you bled a little.’

  Leila thought of the bed and the sumptuous sheets. Mortified, she said, ‘Oh, no!’

  Alix looked stern. ‘It was my fault. I should have known to prepare...’

  Another expression crossed his face then, something like dawning horror, but it was hard to see in the shadows of the room, and then it was gone, replaced by something indecipherable.

  He stood up and Leila saw that he’d wrapped a towel around his waist. It still didn’t disguise the healthy bulge underneath, though, and her face flamed as she sank down into the bubbles.

  ‘I’ll be back in a minute.’

  Alix left the bathroom and Leila moved experimentally, wincing when she felt the sting of something between pleasure and pain between her legs. She ached too—all over. But pleasurably.

  Letting her head fall back, she allowed the water to soothe her body. Her brain was foggy but one thing was crystal clear: she was no longer a virgin. She’d allowed Alix Saint Croix to be more intimate with her than anyone else. And it had felt...amazing. Stupendous. Transformative.

  It was as if this body she’d had all her life was suddenly a new thing. Her hand moved of its own volition up over the flat plane of her belly and cu
pped her breast. Her nipple was roused to a hard peak under her hand, still slightly sensitive. When Leila brushed it a zing of pleasure went to her groin.

  She felt emboldened—empowered. Like a woman for the first time in her life. That perfume she’d chosen earlier...she got it now. She could own a scent like that and wear it with sensual pride. Dreamily, she smiled, her hand over her breast, fingers trapping her nipple, squeezing gently as Alix had done...

  * * *

  Alix felt marginally more under control dressed in his trousers. Up until a couple of minutes ago he had felt as if someone had drugged him and he’d lost any sense of rationale or control. And he had. And about something so fundamentally important to him that he was still reeling.

  But he was already becoming distracted again, losing focus. He stood in the doorway of the bathroom, watching Leila cup her breast in her hand, a small smile playing around her mouth, and just like that Alix was hard again, ready for her.

  That first initial thrust into her body... It had been heaven and hell—because he’d known that while he was experiencing possibly the most exquisitely sensual moment of his life she’d been in pain. Even though he’d been as gentle as he could... And then, when that pain had faded from her eyes and her body had begun to move under his, Alix hadn’t had a hope of retaining any sense at all. He’d become a slave to the dictates of his body and hers.

  He’d had to push her over the edge—touching her intimately, taking advantage of her inexperience—because he’d known he couldn’t wait for her completion.

  And then he’d exploded. Inside her. Without any barrier of protection.

  Alix curbed the panic. Stepped into the bathroom. ‘How are you feeling now?’

  Leila immediately dropped her hand from her breast and tensed, opening her eyes, her smile fading. But then it came back...shyly.

  ‘I’m okay. I think.’

  Alix reached for a towel and held it out. Leila stood up and Alix couldn’t help watching as the water sluiced down her perfect body. Her skin was like silk. She was exquisite. Slim and yet all woman, with full hips and breasts. Alix gritted his jaw to stop thinking about how it had felt to be cradled by her hips and thighs. How right it had felt. Right enough to send him mad—to make him forget important things. Like protection.

  Leila rubbed herself dry with the towel, avoiding his eye now, and then Alix offered her a robe. She turned her back to him to put her arms into it and when she turned around again, belting it, she looked worried.

  ‘Is something wrong?’

  Alix felt a weight on his chest. Her eyes were so huge, so green. So innocent.

  ‘Come into the bedroom. I asked the housekeeper to send some food and drinks up.’

  He took her hand and led her out. A table was set up near the window. A candle flickered in the dim light. The sounds of the canal lapping against the building came faintly from outside.

  They sat down and Leila looked even more worried. ‘What is it, Alix? You’re scaring me... ‘

  ‘We didn’t use protection.’ He grimaced. ‘That is, I didn’t think of it. I presume you’re not on any form of contraception?’

  Leila shook her head, damp tendrils of dark hair slipping over her shoulders. Her cheeks coloured. ‘No...I didn’t think of it either.’

  Alix’s voice was harsh. ‘It was my responsibility.’

  She avoided his eyes for a long moment, and then she looked back at him. ‘I think I’m okay, though. It’s not a fertile time in my cycle. I’ve just finished a period.’

  Something eased in his chest even as something else pierced him. A sense of loss. Strange.

  He took her hand. ‘I wasn’t thinking. Ordinarily I never forget. And I can’t afford to forget...’

  He saw when comprehension dawned in those huge eyes.

  Leila pulled her hand back. Her voice was stilted. ‘Of course. A man like you has to be more careful than most. I understand.’

  Alix felt a bizarre urge to say something to reassure her, to tell her that it was nothing personal. But he couldn’t. Because it was true. He would have to father an heir with his Queen and no one else. His own father had created a storm of controversy by bedding numerous mistresses, who had all come forward at one time or another claiming to have had children by him.

  It had been one of the many reasons the people of Isle Saint Croix had become so disillusioned with their King and overthrown him.

  ‘It won’t happen again, Leila. I’m sorry.’

  Her eyes snapped back to his and Alix quirked a smile. ‘I don’t mean that. We will be doing that again, I just won’t forget about protection again.’

  Food lay on the table between them, unnoticed, and Alix forced himself to try and retain a modicum of civility. He held up a piece of cheese. ‘Are you hungry?’

  Leila shook her head and then looked away, embarrassed.

  Alix reached across and took her chin, tipping it up. He smiled. ‘But you are hungry for something...?’

  It entranced Alix that she seemed to have no sense of guile, or of playing the coquette. And why would she? She’d been a virgin. Her gaze dropped to his mouth and he saw the same insatiable appetite that had been awoken inside himself. His body hummed and soared with it.

  She nodded, telling him silently what she was hungry for. Alix wanted to groan. ‘But you’re going to be too sore...’

  Leila shook her head, her eyes on his now. Feminine and full of that innate knowledge that a man couldn’t possibly ever fathom. Amazing that she already had it. Alix had never really noticed it before now, because he’d never seen it as a spontaneous thing. The women he was usually with were all too cynical even to attempt it.

  ‘I’m okay. Really.’

  Her husky words took him out of his reverie. He needed no further encouragement, so he dropped the food, stood up and led Leila back over to the bed.

  * * *

  When Leila woke up again it was morning. She opened her eyes and saw that the room was bathed in sunlight. She was on her own. But just as she thought that, Alix strolled out of the bathroom, straightening his tie. He was impeccably dressed. Shaved. Cleaned up. When Leila felt utterly wanton.

  She sat up and clutched the sheet to her body, thoroughly disorientated. Alix leaned against one of the four posters of the bed and crossed his arms. A sexy smile played around his mouth. ‘You look adorable...all mussed up.’

  Leila scowled, and then grew hot when she thought of how mussed up she’d become when Alix had taken her to bed for the second time. Somehow in the dimly lit bathroom and bedroom last night it had been easier to face this man. Now it was daylight, and a return to reality and sanity was here. And it was not welcome.

  Twinges and aches made her wince as she leant out to the side of the bed to look for some clothes.

  Alix was there in seconds. ‘Are you okay?’

  Leila looked at him and couldn’t breathe. ‘I’m fine... What time is it?’

  She had no clue what the etiquette of this kind of morning-after scenario was. A morning-after in Venice, after a night of more debauchery than she’d ever known she was capable of. Mortification washed through her in a wave.

  Alix glanced at his watch, oblivious to her inner turmoil. ‘It’s after ten. I’m sorry about this, but I do need to get back to Paris for a lunchtime meeting.’

  Leila forced herself to meet his eyes, even though she wanted to slither down under the covers and all the way to Middle Earth. ‘Of course. I need to get back too.’

  Alix put his hands either side of her hips, effectively trapping her. ‘You’re not regretting anything, are you?’

  His face was so close she could see the lighter flecks of grey in his eyes. And she knew that no matter how embarrassed she was right now, how gauche she felt, she really didn’t regret a thing.

  She shook her head and he pressed a firm kiss to her mouth before pulling back.

  ‘Good. The housekeeper has sent up some breakfast, and I had some clothes sent over for both of us.�
�

  ‘You did?’ Leila boggled.

  Alix shrugged and stood up. ‘Sure—I called my assistant in Paris and she got them sent from a boutique here in Venice.’

  Of course, Leila thought wryly to herself. She’d almost forgotten for a moment who Alix was. The power he wielded. The ease with which he clicked his fingers and had his orders obeyed. The ease with which she’d fallen into bed with him...

  She had to stop thinking about that.

  Galvanising herself, Leila got out of bed and pulled the sheet off the bed, tucking it around her body, all the while acutely aware of Alix’s amused gaze.

  ‘I’ll have a quick shower,’ she said, and walked to the bathroom with as much dignity as she could while trailing a long length of undoubtedly expensive Egyptian cotton behind her.

  Once in the bathroom, Leila could hear Alix’s phone ring and his deep tones as he answered. It was a welcome reminder that he was itching to move on, to get back to Paris and his life. And she needed to get on too.

  As she stepped under the hot spray of the shower she told herself that if all she had was this night in Venice with a beautiful exiled king then she would be happy with that.

  She valiantly ignored the physical pang in the region of her chest that told her otherwise. She was not her mother, and she was not going to fall for the first man she’d slept with.

  * * *

  An hour later they were back on Alix’s private jet, taking off from Venice. Alix was talking in low tones in another guttural language on his phone. She guessed it must be a form of Spanish. It was a relief not to have his attention on her for a moment.

  Leila looked out of the window and took a shaky breath. Hard to believe her world had changed so irrevocably within less than twenty-four hours.

  She wore the new clothes Alix’s staff had sent over. Beautifully cut slim-fitting trousers and a loose long-sleeved silk top, with a wrap-around cashmere cardigan in the most divine sapphire-blue colour.

  They’d even sent over fresh underwear and flat shoes. She felt cossetted and looked after. Dangerous. Because he did this sort of thing with women all the time.