Free A Marriage of Convenience (Married to a Prince) by Kat Attalla

treated one of her ears to a sprinkling of moist kisses.
    Her nerve endings responded by standing at attention. She could have changed her clothing six times in the amount of time he was taking to get her undressed. She raised her hands to help him along.
    "No! I’ve got everything under control here."
    At least he did, because she was fast losing her control. She had forgotten how fast and how easily he could get to her. And how completely.
    With a practiced snap, he unfastened the front catch of her bra. He turned her around to study her.
    "You are more beautiful now that your breasts are ripe from childbirth," he muttered.
    Using his tongue, he traced a line down her shoulder to her breast. He covered the taut nipple, sucking with a greedy hunger that sent a shudder through her. She buried her fingers in his silky hair. She heard the music now. A steady pounding of a primal drum keeping rhythm with her heartbeat.
    He dropped to his knees. The last of her clothing fell to the floor. He cupped her buttocks in his palms and inched her forward. His tongue circled her naval.
    “Oh, yes.” She barely recognized the anguished moan as her own voice.
    He gazed up at her, his dark eyes sparkling with mischief. "Are you having a problem with your breathing?"
    "As a matter of fact... yes.”
    His exhale of laughter warmed the flesh of her belly. "Patience is a virtue."
    If she wanted to retain her virtue, she wouldn't be here on the verge of begging him to take her. "When do I get to join in?"
    "Soon.”
    In contrast to the lingering manner in which he had removed her clothing, he stripped off his own without giving her a moment to catch her breath.
    "Hey. You said I would do that," she complained.
    “Forgive me.” He lifted her and carried her to the bed.
    Flushed with desire, she laid her head back into the pillows. Golden strand of hair framed her flushed face. An unexpected surge of possessiveness filled him as he knelt down before her.
    Her skin was smooth and hot, her hands eager and impatient. "Not yet,” he whispered.
    First with his hand, then his mouth, he explored her body, tasting, teasing, and from the depth of her sensual cry, even tormenting.
    As his lips moved to the soft mound between her thighs, he felt her tense. After the year they’d spent together sharing every intimacy possible, he hadn’t expected her to be afraid. He glanced at her face. Perhaps fear wasn’t the right emotion, but he felt she was trying to hold something back. He wouldn’t allow her to. He wanted to possess her, body and soul, the way she had always possessed him. He continued to arouse her, slowly coaxing her to new heights.
    Her fingers clutched the fabric of the bed sheets. She trembled as she opened for him, removing the last barrier of resistance. He caressed her thigh with fluid movements, bringing his fingers higher to part the folds of skin and expose the tiny pink nub at the center.
    Again, she tensed.
    "Don’t fight it, Honor."
    She nodded her head and arched her hips higher.
    Encouraged by her response, he sucked on the pulsing nub. Although he thought he might explode from his own desire, he couldn't stop now. Her pleasure was his pleasure. Her climax more important than his own.
    "Please..." Her plea became lost in a sob.
    "Tell me that your mine," he said.
    She shook her head.
    “Say it, Honor.” He needed to hear her say the words now, when she couldn’t lie about her feelings.
    Moisture poured from her, thick and hot. She clenched reflexively around his probing finger. More than ready, she was in a frenzy of passion.
    “Say the words.”
    “Please don’t make me say that.”
    “I can wait until you are ready.” Damn the woman was stubborn. But she was not so controlled that she could hold out as long as he could.
    “I am yours, only yours,” she cried out.
    “Thank you, Princess.” Her body shuddered as he entered her. She closed around him, tangling him in a silky web of heat. Her fingers dug into the