The Royals Collection. Rebecca Winters
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or he might have hindered. She wouldn’t know; they were in such a rush. Tearing off his jeans, he threw her down on the bed and drew her beneath him. Lifting her, he nudged one powerful thigh between her legs and took her with a deliciously firm thrust. The pleasure when Tyr began to move was indescribable, and she moved with him, fiercely and rhythmically, and as fast as she could. She cried out as she dropped into the abyss and Tyr fell with her. This was the best yet. And extremely necessary, Jazz concluded contentedly as Tyr fell back and they both began to laugh. Turning his head, Tyr stared into her eyes. ‘Why did we waste so much time sleeping?’
‘We must be mad,’ Jazz agreed wryly. ‘But as I’m not in the mood for sleep right now...’
Tyr took the hint and helped her to climb on top of him. Gripping his shoulders, she settled slowly into position. ‘Oh, that’s so good. So good!’ Her screams could probably be heard in the village, and, with Tyr holding her firmly as he guided her back and forth, she extracted the last ounce of pleasure and rode the storm.
‘This can’t get any better, can it?’ she managed later when they were both taking a break with their limbs lazily entwined.
‘Why do you ask?’ Tyr murmured without opening his eyes.
‘Because I don’t think I can take any more.’
‘You underestimate yourself, Princess, but perhaps we should find out?’
Jazz exclaimed softly with anticipation as Tyr brought her beneath him. Lifting her legs onto his shoulders, he pressed her knees back and took her in long, lazy strokes that she could do nothing to resist or control, and within seconds she had lost control again. ‘Stop—stop,’ she begged him, laughing as Tyr lowered her onto her side and curled around her. ‘I can’t take any more.’
‘You’re wrong,’ he insisted.
He was right, thank goodness. When Tyr moved behind her and his hand worked some sort of magic as he moved, the impossible became possible again. Arching her back, she thrust her buttocks towards him so he could see just how thoroughly she was enjoying his attentions, and how eager she was to assist.
When she quietened this time, Tyr embraced her and kissed her so tenderly, it took her a while to notice that the pavilion was filled with the most intoxicating scent. ‘What is that delicious perfume?’
Tyr pulled his head back to stare down at her. ‘Arabian jasmine and desert lavender.’
‘Really?’ She sat up, and then realised the pavilion was full of desert flowers. ‘You did all this for me while I was sleeping?’
‘I stopped short of bringing in the horses to trample the plants to release their scent as you suggested when we were down at the oasis.’
‘You’re a secret romantic?’
‘No need for such a frown. I might not be in touch with my feminine side, but I do know what matters to my wife.’
Jazz laughed and nuzzled close. ‘You are full of surprises.’
‘I try not to disappoint.’
‘Not a chance,’ Jazz confirmed. ‘But you didn’t need to do all this for me.’
‘Yes, I did. A bride should feel special, and I’m guessing you spent most of your wedding day feeling anything but.’ Tyr’s massive shoulders lifted in a shrug. ‘I wanted to make it up to you.’
As he got out of bed, she joined him, oblivious to the fact that she was naked. ‘Tyr Skavanga out at dawn picking flowers for me? I’ll be able to eat out on that story for years to come.’
They were close, almost touching, and with a husky growl Tyr yanked her closer. Lifting her, he encouraged her to wrap her legs around his waist, and, dipping at the knees, he took her deep. Thrusting rhythmically as he kissed her, Tyr made her forget everything apart from the wild ride he was taking her on, and by the time he lowered her to her feet, her legs refused to support her.
‘That must have been good,’ he observed as he carried her to the bed. ‘Perhaps you should just lie back on the bed and recover.’
He was joking. Having brought her to the edge of the bed, Tyr moved over her, and, bracing his arms either side of her on the bed, he teased her with the tip while she groaned.
‘You can’t do that,’ she panted out as Tyr drew the smooth tip of his massively engorged erection up and down the place that needed him the most. ‘Please,’ she begged. ‘Please. I need you now.’
‘This much?’
She shuddered out a wordless reply.
‘Or a little more?’
‘You’re not playing fair,’ she complained as Tyr withdrew fully, drawing a whimper of disappointment from her throat. But he rewarded her patience—and her impatience—by cupping her buttocks and positioning her to his liking, and hers, as he very slowly took her deeply again.
‘Was that worth the wait?’
Surely, he didn’t expect an answer? She was incapable of speech.
Pressing her knees back, Tyr stared down as he withdrew fully again and then sank deep. The look of concentration on his face alone was enough to tip her over the edge. Her wild cries filled the pavilion, and she had barely come down from that high when they fell on each other and, bucking furiously, raced towards the next inevitable conclusion.
The best thing about it, Jazz reflected when they were quiet for a moment, was the more pleasure Tyr gave her, the more her capacity for pleasure seemed to grow. Her hunger for him was insatiable. She would never be ready for Tyr to stop.
‘What?’ she said as he stilled to listen.
Tyr had tensed. Her legs were still wound around his, so she could feel every part of him on high alert.
Swiftly disentangling himself, he swung off the bed and stood in silence for a moment, towering and magnificent. And then she heard it too. One of the horses was whinnying an alarm, while somewhere in the distance came the answering yelp of a coyote’s call. Coyote were rare in the deserts of Kareshi, and were a protected species, but recently breeding programmes had been more successful than expected, and hunting packs could be large and vicious.
‘Tyr?’
‘Stay there.’
The note of command was in his voice as Tyr dressed quickly, but she wasn’t about to sit around, watching him tug on his jeans and boots.
‘Jazz. What do you think you’re doing?’
‘I’m coming with you.’
‘No, you’re not. You’ll stay here.’
‘Not a chance.’
Hectically throwing a shirt over her naked body, she hopped, skipped and jumped her way into breeches and boots, and burst out of the entrance of the pavilion in time to see Tyr running towards the stock pen. Grabbing a broom, she followed him, as lights started going on in the village.
The pack was big, the lead animals thin enough to risk human contact as they hunted for easy pickings amongst the cattle in the corral. Jabbing her broom in the air, she yelled to frighten them away. Grabbing hold of her arm, Tyr thrust her behind him, using his own body as a shield. ‘Do you never listen to a word I say? I thought I told you to stay in the pavilion?’
‘You don’t tell me what to do,’ she yelled back, wrestling free.
By this time, the lead animals, having measured their opponents, had slunk away into the scrub. And now the headman had arrived with a crowd of villagers following. Turning away, Tyr spoke to him, effectively cutting Jazz out. She was invisible again—surplus to requirements as the men discussed the next course of action. Was this the husband she adored, the man who had made such tender love to her?
‘Am I allowed to ask where you’re going?’ she demanded as Tyr, having issued his instructions,