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"Exactly what you're doing right now," I say on a low growl. Shit, she has a way with her hands. Every stroke sends fire through my veins and sets my nerves on edge.
She smiles and releases me long enough to strip off her own clothes, revealing the perfect royal body I can't resist. Her breasts are full and perfect, her waist narrow, her hips curved and sexy. When she's completely naked, she pushes me back onto the desk and climbs on top of me, straddling my hips and positioning herself above my cock.
I grip her hips as she sinks down onto me, her body tight and wet and perfect. She moves slowly at first, finding her rhythm, and I let her set the pace even though every instinct is screaming at me to flip her over and take control. Her hands brace against my chest as she rides me, her head falling back and her lips parting on a moan that goes straight to my cock.
"Fuck, Ana."
"Touch me." She guides one of my hands to her breast, and I squeeze the soft flesh while my thumb circles her nipple. "Yes. Like that."
She picks up speed, her movements becoming more confident and more demanding. Her inner muscles tighten around me while a flush spreads across her chest and up her neck. When she comes, her entire body shudders, and her pussy clenches around my cock, draining all of my resolve. I thrust up into her hard, chasing my own release, and when it hits, it's so intense that I have to grip her hips hard enough to leave bruises.
Ana drops her head to my chest and I place my hand over her head as she gasps for breath. Her heart thunders, beating out a frantic rhythm against my chest that matches my own rapid heart beat. Finally, she climbs off me and starts gathering her clothes, and I do the same. We dress in silence, the weight of everything that's happened settling back over us now that the moment has passed. By the time we're both fully clothed again, the sky outside the library windows is starting to lighten with the first hints of dawn.
I'm about to suggest we both try to get some sleep when shouting erupts from somewhere outside. I cross to the window and look down at the courtyard below, where several of my soldiers are struggling to pull Benedikt off another guard. The bodyguard is fighting like a man possessed, his fists swinging wildly and his face twisted with rage. Gregory appears from the side entrance and helps restrain Benedikt, and after several minutes, they finally manage to separate the two men.
Gregory looks up at the window where I'm standing and catches my eye. Pulling out his phone, he presses against it several times. A few seconds later, a text chimes on my cell phone with his message. The fight started because Benedikt thought the other guard had been staring at Ana for too long.
I’m going to have to assign him somewhere else. He’s just too obsessed with Ana for my peace of mind.
35
ANA
Iwake to the distant sounds of the estate coming to life. Samuel left without waking me, probably hours ago based on how cold his side of the bed feels. I stretch and start to sit up, but the moment I move, nausea rolls through my stomach in a wave so powerful that I have to freeze in place and breathe through my nose until it passes.
This is the third morning in a row. I've been telling myself it's stress, that everything happening with my father and the threats against our families has my body out of whack. But as another wave hits and I barely make it to the bathroom before becoming violently sick, I can no longer convince myself that explanation holds any truth. I lean against the marble sink afterward, then rinse my mouth and brush my teeth.
If this happens again tomorrow, I'll ask the estate physicians to examine me. The thought of admitting weakness to anyone makes my stomach clench for entirely different reasons, but I can't keep ignoring what my body is trying to tell me. Something is wrong, and I need to know what it is before it becomes a bigger problem.
After showering and dressing in dark jeans and a soft cream sweater, I make my way downstairs to check on my father. The guest suite where he's been recovering sits in the east wing, far enough from the main activity of the house that he can rest without constant interruption. I knock softly before entering and find him sitting up in bed with a breakfast tray across his lap, looking significantly better than he did even yesterday. Color has returned to his face, the bruises are fading from purple to yellow, and his eyes hold the sharp intelligence that sets my mind at ease.
"Ana." He sets down his coffee cup and smiles at me with genuine warmth. "You're checking on me again. This is the third time since yesterday evening."
"I'm allowed to worry about my father." I cross the room and sit in the chair beside his bed, studying him carefully for any signs of pain or discomfort.
"I'm recovering just fine, as you can see with your own eyes." He gestures to the mostly empty breakfast tray. "I ate everything they brought me, I'm sitting up without assistance, and I haven't needed pain medication since last night. I promise you, I will survive if you leave my bedside for more than an hour at a time."
The teasing in his voice makes me smile despite my lingering worry. This is the father I know, the man who raised me with equal parts discipline and affection, who taught me to be strong even when I wanted to fall apart. "You're enjoying this, aren't you? Having me fuss over you like you're an invalid."
"I'm enjoying seeing my daughter care so openly." He reaches over and pats my hand where it rests on the arm of the chair. "You've spent so many years hiding your feelings behind that princess mask that sometimes I forget how deeply you actually feel things. It's nice to see the real Ana instead of the performance."
Heat rises to my cheeks at his words because he's right. I've spent most of my life performing the role everyone expected of me, playing the spoiled princess who cares only about herself and her own comfort. But here, in this quiet room with my father recovering from a kidnapping that nearly killed him, there's no point in pretending anymore.
"I was terrified when Samuil told me you'd been taken. I kept thinking about all the things I never said to you, all the conversations we never had because I was too busy playing my part."
"We're having those conversations now." My father's expression grows more serious. "And we'll have many more once I'm fully recovered. But right now, you need to focus on your marriage and your new life here. I'm in good hands with Samuil's physicians, and you have your own responsibilities to attend to."
Before I can respond, a knock sounds at the door. Benedikt enters after my father calls for him to come in, and I'm struck by how different he looks from the man I've known my entire life. His face is drawn, his shoulders tense, and there's a desperation in his eyes that I've never seen before. He nods respectfully to both of us before addressing my father directly.
"Your highness, I apologize for the interruption." Benedikt's voice is steady but I can hear the strain beneath it. "I was hoping to speak with you about a matter of some importance."
"Of course." My father gestures for him to continue. "What's on your mind?"
"I would like to request that you speak with Pakhan Galkin about returning me to Princess Anastasia's security detail." Benedikt keeps his gaze fixed on my father, carefully avoiding looking at me. "I've protected her since she was a child. No one knows her routines better than I do, no one understands the specific threats she faces, and no one is more qualified to keep her safe."
I sit up straighter in my chair, surprised by this revelation. I didn't know Samuil had removed Benedikt from my detail. When did that happen? And why didn't anyone tell me about it? The realization that decisions about my own security are being made without my knowledge or input stings. And pisses me off.
My father studies Benedikt for a long moment before responding, and I can see him weighing his words carefully. "Benedikt, you've served the Rostova family with loyalty and dedication for many years. I trust you completely, and I know you care deeply about my daughter's safety. But the decision about Ana's security detail belongs to Samuil now. He's her husband and her Pakhan, and those choices fall under his authority, not mine."