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Authors: Anne McAllister
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taking his time, enjoying the soft sounds she made as he roused her desire. He let her slip the condom on him this time, and tried not to shudder with the desire her soft hands provoked.
She was perfect, fresh, beautiful, and responsive. And Demetrios was determined to give her the memories she’d asked him for.
As he made love to her he thought about the young woman she must have been then, and found himself wishing that he’d known her. At the same time he didn’t imagine she’d changed much. There was an innocent sweetness about her even now. He didn’t let himself think about the future she had predicted for herself. That was her choice—her life—not anything to do with him.
What he could do for her was what she’d asked—give her a night to remember.
He loved her completely, thoroughly, made her need his touch so that finally she clutched at his hips and drew him in.
“Yes.” The word hissed through her teeth as she shattered around him. And as he brought her to climax, he understood her satisfaction at his own earlier loss of control.
It meant as much—even more—to give pleasure as to receive it, he thought even as his own climax overtook him and he buried himself in her body and felt himself wrapped in her arms.
Making love with Demetrios was everything Anny had ever dreamed of. More. It was as perfect as Cinderella’s night at the ball.
She wanted to cry and at the same time she’d never felt happier—or more bereft—in her life because it was so wonderful and she knew it couldn’t last.
Had always known, she reminded herself. Had gone into it with her eyes wide open. It was what she’d wanted, after all.
Memories.
Well, now she had them. In spades. She would remember this night always. Would savor it a thousand times. A million. All her life and the eternity that stretched beyond it. She would never forget.
Even now as she lay beneath Demetrios’s sweat-slicked body and ran her still trembling hands down his smooth hard back, she focused on every single sensation, storing up the sound of his breathing, the weight of his body pressing on hers. She memorized the feel of his hair-roughened calves beneath her toes, the scent of the sea that seemed inexplicably so much a part of him, the scrape of his jaw against her cheek.
She catalogued them all, wishing she could create some tangible reminders to take out whenever she wanted to relive these moments. She was in no hurry at all to have him roll off her, create a space between them, smile down at her and say he had to go.
And when at last his breathing slowed and he rolled off, she felt an instant sense of loss. She wanted to clutch him back, to cling, to beg for more.
She didn’t. He had given her what she asked for. He had given her the most memorable night of her life. Anny told herself not to be greedy, but to be grateful. And content.
“Thank you,” she said quietly.
He seemed surprised. He raised up on one elbow and regarded her from beneath hooded lids. His mouth quirked at one corner. “I think I’m the one who should be saying thank you.” For all that he smiled, his words were grave.
Still, they made her happy. She was glad he’d enjoyed their lovemaking. She didn’t expect he would hang on to the memories forever as she would, but she hoped he might have occasional fleeting fond thoughts of this night—of her.
“You gave me wonderful memories,” she assured him.
He opened his mouth, as if he might say something. But then he closed it again and simply nodded. “Good.”
He didn’t move. Neither did she. They stared at each other. Under Demetrios’s gaze, for the first time Anny felt self-conscious. None of the royal protocol she’d ever learned—not even her year in the Swiss finishing school—had prepared her for the proper way to end this encounter.
Perhaps because it hadn’t been proper in the least.
But she didn’t regret it. She would never regret it.
“I should go,” Demetrios said.
She
She was perfect, fresh, beautiful, and responsive. And Demetrios was determined to give her the memories she’d asked him for.
As he made love to her he thought about the young woman she must have been then, and found himself wishing that he’d known her. At the same time he didn’t imagine she’d changed much. There was an innocent sweetness about her even now. He didn’t let himself think about the future she had predicted for herself. That was her choice—her life—not anything to do with him.
What he could do for her was what she’d asked—give her a night to remember.
He loved her completely, thoroughly, made her need his touch so that finally she clutched at his hips and drew him in.
“Yes.” The word hissed through her teeth as she shattered around him. And as he brought her to climax, he understood her satisfaction at his own earlier loss of control.
It meant as much—even more—to give pleasure as to receive it, he thought even as his own climax overtook him and he buried himself in her body and felt himself wrapped in her arms.
Making love with Demetrios was everything Anny had ever dreamed of. More. It was as perfect as Cinderella’s night at the ball.
She wanted to cry and at the same time she’d never felt happier—or more bereft—in her life because it was so wonderful and she knew it couldn’t last.
Had always known, she reminded herself. Had gone into it with her eyes wide open. It was what she’d wanted, after all.
Memories.
Well, now she had them. In spades. She would remember this night always. Would savor it a thousand times. A million. All her life and the eternity that stretched beyond it. She would never forget.
Even now as she lay beneath Demetrios’s sweat-slicked body and ran her still trembling hands down his smooth hard back, she focused on every single sensation, storing up the sound of his breathing, the weight of his body pressing on hers. She memorized the feel of his hair-roughened calves beneath her toes, the scent of the sea that seemed inexplicably so much a part of him, the scrape of his jaw against her cheek.
She catalogued them all, wishing she could create some tangible reminders to take out whenever she wanted to relive these moments. She was in no hurry at all to have him roll off her, create a space between them, smile down at her and say he had to go.
And when at last his breathing slowed and he rolled off, she felt an instant sense of loss. She wanted to clutch him back, to cling, to beg for more.
She didn’t. He had given her what she asked for. He had given her the most memorable night of her life. Anny told herself not to be greedy, but to be grateful. And content.
“Thank you,” she said quietly.
He seemed surprised. He raised up on one elbow and regarded her from beneath hooded lids. His mouth quirked at one corner. “I think I’m the one who should be saying thank you.” For all that he smiled, his words were grave.
Still, they made her happy. She was glad he’d enjoyed their lovemaking. She didn’t expect he would hang on to the memories forever as she would, but she hoped he might have occasional fleeting fond thoughts of this night—of her.
“You gave me wonderful memories,” she assured him.
He opened his mouth, as if he might say something. But then he closed it again and simply nodded. “Good.”
He didn’t move. Neither did she. They stared at each other. Under Demetrios’s gaze, for the first time Anny felt self-conscious. None of the royal protocol she’d ever learned—not even her year in the Swiss finishing school—had prepared her for the proper way to end this encounter.
Perhaps because it hadn’t been proper in the least.
But she didn’t regret it. She would never regret it.
“I should go,” Demetrios said.
She
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