Chapter 208

I woke to knocking on my door.

“Just a minute,” I called, trying not to sound too sleepy.

I couldn't tell what time it was, only that it was light outside. Who didn't put a clock in the bedroom?

I sat up and stretched, then grabbed my phone to check the time. My goodness! Being pregnant was making me tired. It was almost nine.

I climbed out of bed and put on my clothes from the night before. I hadn't even opened the closet. I didn't care to see whether it was empty, awaiting my things, or whether the king had given me clothes that he expected to see me in. Either way, the contents weren’t anything I wanted.

I opened the door, prepared to face whatever punishment the king was going to dish out at me, and instead was greeted by a rough hug from Charles. He pressed kisses all over the top of my head, drinking in the scent of me.

I pushed him away and then squirmed out and underneath his arms. “They let you come see me?” I gasped.

“I didn't ask,” he replied. “As if they could stop me from seeing my fiancée.”

I blushed at that word. Somehow, through all of the mess, I had forgotten that Charles and I were an officially declared couple.

Charles used a foot behind him to shut the door and then crossed the few spaces between us, running his hands along my waist underneath my shirt and kissing me deeply.

“Charles, there's something—”

He stuck his tongue in my mouth and swept his hands up across my ribs to cup my breasts.

I broke the kiss and tucked my face sideways, trying not to let the smell of his vetiver send my head spinning. He was now playing with my nipples. And it was very distracting.

Between that and the smell of him… “Charles,” I forced my head back on the important things. “There's something—”

He took one of his hands out from under my shirt and pressed it to my lips, cutting me off. Then he took my earlobe between my teeth and spoke without fully opening his mouth while nibbling at my ear.

“I don't know if it's the fact that there's now a declared heir. Or if something else is going on. But the palace is in a bit of an upheaval this morning. It's why I didn't ask for permission to come see you. Not only did all of the palace staff anywhere near my room seem to have other things on their mind, but it got me worried. I had to see you for myself to know that you’re safe.”

“I’m safe. But sex? Again?”

He pressed his hips to mine, and I felt his erection through his pants. “It's not just lust,” he growled, letting go of my ear and pulling back so he could look at my eyes. “I don't think you understand how it is for a guy. This is a physical expression of emotions that are hard to put into words.”

I arched an eyebrow and cocked my head. “I thought guys could compartmentalize, and everything was just sex.”

He made a face at me. “It can be. Or, like in this particular case, sex can be used to express everything we have difficulty expressing when we need to feel connected with you. Sometimes, a conversation isn't going to cut it.”

I gave up. That was difficult logic to argue with. Besides, he already had his hand down my pants and was separating the space between my legs with his fingers so that he could run the pads of his fingers across the sensitive parts.

I sighed and leaned my forehead against his chest. “There are important things we need to discuss when you're through.”

“But you'll let me make this connection?” he clarified.

I tipped my face up and kissed him deeply. “Don't think I don't like to connect with you, too,” I said when I came up for air. “But some things can't be expressed through physical contact.”

“Noted.”

With that, the conversation and any argument I might have had against getting intimate disappeared. For the first time in a while, we had a proper bedroom, and Charles took his time unbuttoning my shirt and sliding it down my shoulders, letting his fingers skim across the skin of my upper arms before letting the fabric drop to the floor.

He undressed all of me this slowly, taking time to touch and memorize every last inch of me with his fingertips. I did the same, tracing the outlines of his muscles with my fingers.

Suddenly, it felt less like making love and more like making memories, but I decided not to voice that out loud.

I still had no idea what my punishment was going to be for that conversation I had released on the king. But if the palace was in a bit of an upheaval, I was positive that it had to do with the conversation between the king and me.

That I had to be Jasmine at work. She’d done her job, and I had no idea when punishment was going to come crashing down on my head.

So maybe Charles was right. Maybe I should make the last of time with Charles count. Besides, last night I had decided that I wasn't going to tell him that I was pregnant. Anyway, at least by distracting him with sex, it would avoid other, more awkward subjects and awkward silences.

When we were fully naked, he took my hands, leading me toward the bed. He went backward, scanning me with his gaze from head to toe. The look on his face said that he admired what he saw.

He ran his hands along my sides, tracing the curves of my body.

“I swear,” he said in a low, growly voice full of lust. “Your boobs and your hips look fuller and more delicious than ever.”

If I hadn't been pregnant, I might have taken offense to that remark. But that would be my body filling out and doing its job already. Good thing you couldn't see anything else, like a bump. Otherwise, there’d be no avoiding the conversation.

I let Charles draw me onto his lap, straddling him so that I took his erection between my legs and, from there, slipped gently across the firm shaft, drumming up excitement within us both.

As if agreeing that somehow, we needed to go slow and make the most of this moment, Charles didn't enter me but instead used his fingers to trace the outer edges of all of my most sensitive place as he closed his eyes and tipped his head back, enjoying the motion that the slide of my hips created.

The whole while, he drew in deep breaths of my scent. I wriggled against him, enjoying the sensations. I was taking my time, waiting until I was very turned on before drawing him inside myself.

Something slammed against the door. “Miss Laurentia,” a man that I didn't recognize called.

“In a moment,” I called back.

I started to get up. But Charles grabbed my hips, pulling me back toward him, then quickly took one hand off of my hips and held himself up so that when the momentum of my movement back toward him took me onto his lap, it also took me around and over his erection.

He and I both let out matching groans. He pressed a kiss to my lips, speaking from between our joint mouths. “Let them wait.”

He flipped me over on my back, standing at the edge of the bed and pressing my knees up-and-over his arms. He got a rapid rhythm going. That pleasure I had spent so long building up reached a crescendo.

I gripped his arms, crying out desperately, wanting him to bury himself inside me. With a few more movements, I got my wish, and he rammed himself in so that our hips slammed together. He grunted out his pleasure in a few jerking motions. Then he stepped back, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, and pointed at the door.

“Now you can answer,” he said teasingly.