The Illegitimate King by Olivia Gates

Author:Olivia Gates [King, The Illegitimate]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Ferruccio felt Clarissa slump beneath him, her satin limbs sliding off him like the shedded petals of a rose.

Panic mushroomed in his chest as he took his weight off her inert body on shaking arms. He groaned as he withdrew from the depths that still clutched him, a prisoner to her possession.

He frantically examined her. Her face, streaked in tears, her lips, shining and plum red, parted...and gusting tranquil breaths.

He collapsed beside her. Dio...for a moment there he'd thought...

He shook his head in self-deprecation. Had he started to believe his own reputation as a lady-killer?

He rose again and looked down at her, all of her, all the treasures he hadn't been in any condition to slow down and savor, when his first exposure to them had driven him into a frenzy.

Which wasn't an excuse for pouncing on her like he had.

For six years he'd promised himself that the first time he got her in his bed, he'd pamper and service her until he had her weeping with satisfaction before taking his.

He'd achieved that, had her in such acute pleasure, she'd wept. In an agony of release she came so hard that she fainted. But that wasn't the refined, protracted seduction he'd planned on. He'd lost control.

He'd never before come within miles of losing control.

But he'd touched her, and he'd become a mindless predator bound on branding his mark on his mate.

And how he had. He was shaken at the enormity of the experience. Branding her as his had been the first surrender of his life, his first real and total pleasure. But she'd branded him as hers, too. As he'd known she would when he'd first seen her and those intense feelings of possession, of belonging, had come over him. Before her rejection had swathed his feelings in harshness of bitterness, resentment and anger...

He ran a hand heavy with possession over her. His. At last.

He gathered her cooling body to him, took her into his still shaking arms...and froze. Beneath her. A tiny pool of blood.

Panic surged again. It subsided within a moment. The location and amount of the blood said it all; he'd been her first.

The discovery shook him. Elated him. Made him want to pound his chest and do backflips. She had been his all along.

But...if she had been, why had she put him--and herself--through all this? Why had it taken him going all caveman on her to make her give them this at last?

He looked down at the face etched by satiation, transformed by the experience. The image of all his dreams and fantasies, and far beyond both. And his rage crept back.

Why was he even wondering? He'd always known why.

He'd always felt her answering craving, felt her holding it on a tight leash, evading him so she wouldn't succumb to the temptation. Because it had been abhorrent to her. He had been. She might have decided to give in to her hunger now, since he'd made it in her best interest to do so.

He'd told her to persuade him, but she'd come here not bent on persuasion but on conquering.

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