Royal Sins. Maisey Yates

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       CHAPTER EIGHT

      A WEEK SINCE his encounter with Olivia had done nothing to cool the arousal in his blood. She tempted him, she tempted him beyond the need for anything else. He had been in dire straits in the desert. Sometimes without food, sometimes without water. And yet, now he craved her more than he craved either of those things. And it was unacceptable.

      He was determined not to succumb to this. This wild need that was like a prowling animal inside him, tearing at years of well-practiced restraint.

      Even now, he could taste her on his lips. Could recall exactly the soft, delicate feel of her mouth beneath his.

      He had nearly crushed her beneath his need. He had been rough. He despised himself for that. For his lack of restraint.

      He paced the length of his chamber. He had set the wedding day today. Had told his advisor that everything would need to be planned and set into motion for a ceremony to take place in two weeks’ time. He’d had a notice sent to Olivia. He imagined she would be quite annoyed with him.

      He didn’t care. He was quite annoyed with her.

      With all that she made him feel.

      She expected sex. Of course she did. She had been married before, and she had no reason to expect their relationship to deviate from what she considered normal.

      Nothing about him was normal.

      He considered himself the furthest thing from an innocent. After all, he had endured grief, loss, torture. He had taken the lives of enemies when necessary. There was no place for innocence when you had watched a man’s soul depart from his body at your own hand. No, no room for it at all.

      And yet, while he considered himself devoid of innocence, the word virgin hung large as an accurate description for his state of being. Indeed, he had never even kissed a woman until that moment with Olivia. There had never been opportunity. Or perhaps there had been. There had been many women in the Bedouin camps, widows who probably would have appreciated a bit of comfort and company. But he had never allowed his focus to stray. Had never allowed the impulses of his body to control his actions.

      That focus, that determination had been paramount to his survival. Releasing his hold on it was never an option.

      Whether he was a virgin or not had never mattered until now. Sexual desire was simply another appetite he’d cast off.

      But he was discovering that introducing the desire for sex, the appetite for it, was much different than an appetite for food. He had managed to find ways to keep himself fed without allowing himself to desire rich flavors. Without allowing himself to be controlled by specific cravings.

      Now that he had tasted Olivia, he wondered if there was any way to satisfy sexual need in a basic way. One that wouldn’t consume.

      He doubted it now.

      Of course, part of the issue was that he remained uneducated on the subject.

      He had seen a great many animals copulate. Knew what that looked like. Knew the mechanics. And yet, the way Olivia looked at him, the way she responded to his touch, the way he had watched his brother abandon all for the sake of hedonistic appetites, told him that there was much more to it than that.

      And beyond that, the gnawing hunger that had taken residence inside him from the moment he had first seen Olivia told him there was more.

      Preparation. That was what always helped a new soldier. Doing drills, learning everything there was to know about the enemy.

      Preparation made events seem less remarkable.

      Of course, there was no way for him to acquire physical practice. But when practical experience couldn’t be had, reading would suffice.

      He walked across the room to the vast library housed in the other end of the chamber, certain there was a book here that would satisfy his curiosity. After all, his brother had purchased a great many of the books.

      His brother had been a bit shorter than he was, so Tarek looked slightly lower than eye level scanning the center shelves for anything that seemed to pertain to the subject. He was not disappointed.

      He opened the volume, his eye immediately drawn to the detailed sketches of anatomy on the first pages. Yes, he could see he had a great deal to learn. He turned the page and there was a drawing of a man caressing a woman’s bare breasts. He thought of Olivia, the way she had felt pressed against his body. The soft, feminine shape of her and how she had fitted so perfectly against him.

      Need bloomed hot and low in his stomach.

      In that moment, he had a great many of his own fantasies. But he wanted to know all of the possibilities. He wanted to miss nothing.

      He squashed that thought. This wasn’t about him. It was about her. Fulfilling his obligations as a husband and nothing more.

      More important even than fulfilling obligations was mastering his need. He must form a strategy so that when faced with his opponent, he would not waver.

      She was so soft. And his hands, warrior’s hands, so rough. When he placed them over her body he had to be sure he would deliver only pleasure. Had to be certain he would not...break her.

      Of course he knew the mechanics of sex. He’d been fifteen when he’d left the palace after all. But fifteen-year-old boys might nudge each other and talk about women’s bodies. But they did not discuss a woman’s pleasure. Did not discuss control.

      He needed to understand both of those things. For Olivia had known the touch of another man. She deserved pleasure.

      And he required control.

      An hour later, he had made it halfway through the book and was not feeling at all like education had done anything to lessen his desire. Certainly, he had some ideas that were new. And very, very interesting.

      But that had not been the plan.

      There was a firm knock on his door, and he cast the book aside. Strange that this was something he felt the need to hide, but he did. He hated needing to admit his lack of mastery.

      He stood, ignoring the vague ache in his groin and the tightness in his stomach as he made his way to the door.

      He opened the door only to meet Olivia’s fearsome blue gaze. “Yes?”

      “I am informed, by a member of staff, by the way, not you, that we are to be married in two weeks.”

      “Yes,” he bit out.

      He would not allow her entry. His head was entirely filled with the images in that book and the images painted by the explicit instructions. And if he allowed her to get too close, he would only be tempted to put his new education to practical use.

      “That’s impossible. It takes months to plan an event of that СКАЧАТЬ