The King's Lover-Chapter 412: Goodnight, Rose

Rose swore at her sharp intake of breath as their lips touched. Has it really been that long that she would act in this manner? His lips felt warm, his kiss unhurried, willing to move at her pace. Rose felt herself sink deeper. His grip on her chin was steady, his mouth coaxing.

His other hand moved to cup her breast through the thin fabric. A flash of reason tugged at her, and she resisted the pleasure. She immediately broke the kiss, leaning back in her chair to put distance between them. Her chest heaved, her nipples visible through the cloth.

Caius looked briefly disappointed, but his eyes quickly filled with hunger once more. He licked his lips as he stared, ravenous. He ran a hand through his hair as he made a decision.

"Your Majesty," Rose called, trying to make him see reason. She should never have given in to the kiss. She couldn’t believe she had to be the voice of reason here but she should expect nothing less from the crown prince.

"Hmm," he murmured, his gaze drifting lower.

His hands moved towards her and he slowly parted her legs.

"Your Majesty," Rose called again, more urgent.

"Hmm." He gave the same bored reply, eyes fixed on her thighs.

He traced the inside of her parted legs, then caught the edge of her chair and yanked her closer. The screech of wood against the floor spiked her anxiety. Rose couldn’t exactly stop him, and she knew he was well aware of that.

His hand slid from her thighs up to her waist, and he lifted her from the chair, settling her across his lap.

"Your Majesty!" Rose cried.

"Yes, Rose," he said, resting his face in the crook of her neck. His hands moved slowly from her waist to her back. "How many times do you intend to call me?"

He took a deep breath, mumbling against her skin. "I miss the smell of lavender on you."

"You can’t," Rose didn’t like the unsteadiness of her voice. Regardless of her she acted, his words had bothered her.

"Why not?" he asked, placing light kisses along her neck. One hand moved to her front, cupping her breast.

Rose couldn’t believe he would ask. His intent was clear as he kissed and stroked her skin. He pulled her tighter against him, and she felt him hard against her thigh.

"Your wife," Rose forced out.

"Is that what this is about?" Caius brought his face down, burying it between her breasts.

His question felt like a trap. If she said yes, he would likely justify it somehow. But her objection was bigger than his wife.

He kissed the valley between them, his tongue tracing a path to a peak before he took it into his mouth, while his hand attended to the other. Rose gasped.

It was hard to think while he touched and teased her, knowing she couldn’t just push him off. Rose fought to keep her desire in check, but the Crown Prince knew exactly what buttons to press.

He tugged at the hem of her nightdress, hiking it up to her waist and exposing her. His hands gripped her backside, pressing her against his hardness. He swore against her nipple, his sharp breath teasing the already sensitive skin.

"Your Majesty," she tried again, but it came out as a moan.

Caius cursed and moved his hands to her waist, holding her dress up as he lifted her. He looked into her eyes before slowly lowering her onto himself.

Rose gasped as they joined. Caius stared at her, his eyes heavy-lidded with desire. He held still for a moment, gazing into her eyes while she felt him deep inside.

She squirmed, and the look in his eyes darkened. Before she could process it, he stood, lifting her with him as they remained joined, and placed her back onto the table—not caring about the ink and papers lying on the table.

He spread her legs wider as she lay against the wood and plunged deeper. Rose gasped, gripping the table’s edge as it strained with his thrusts.

He leaned forward and captured her lips. They trembled against hers, and it wasn’t until she kissed him back that the urgency faded and his rhythm steadied.

Rose closed her eyes, kissing him in return. Her hands moved over his chest, then to his back, caressing him through the robe.

He slid a hand upward beneath her dress, and Rose gasped against his mouth, arching her back as he filled her. Her hips moved to meet his, finding the rhythm and clinging to it.

"Fuck!" Caius swore against her lips, one hand flicking her nipple.

One hand gripped her waist as he thrust harder. Rose could feel sweat on her skin. She’d likely be sore from the wood rubbing against her, but it was hard to focus on that.

She tightened her arms around his neck as pleasure mounted. "Your Majesty," she moaned, breaking the kiss.

Her movements grew frantic; she was close, and Caius didn’t hold back. She could hear a voice, ragged and wanton in her ears, and it took her a moment to recognize it as her own.

Rose locked her legs around his waist, teetering on the edge and she came apart. She heard Caius curse again before he groaned, his movements slowing. Her legs fell limp to the sides, dangling off the table.

She kept her eyes closed, unsure if she wanted to see. Then she felt him step back, the cool air hitting her skin. He took off his robe and wiped between her legs.

Rose’s eyes flew open. "Your Majesty, don’t—I..." she protested, realizing it was his robe.

Caius tossed the soiled garment aside, pulled her dress down, and lifted her from the table. He carried her to the bed, laid her down, and joined her under the covers, wrapping his arms around her.

He kissed the top of her head. "Goodnight, Rose."

"Goodnight, Your Majesty," she mumbled, utterly confused.