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and also began to use his thumb in a wicked swirling motion.
    She knew how it all worked—as she’d told him, she’d not only read about it, but seen images of couples involved in intercourse, and arousal flooded her senses, the skilled mimicking of what he was going to do to her with his cock more than just a little effective. “You’re getting wet,” he murmured, angling his fingers in an effective way that caused her inner muscles to tighten as washes of pleasure rolled over her.
    The approval in the husky tone of his voice barely registered as Jayla moaned, the sound involuntary. She arched into his hand, and instead of moving faster, which was what she needed, to her dismay he abruptly withdrew his fingers.
    And used his mouth instead.
    Dark silky hair brushed her thighs as his head dipped between her open legs, and his tongue parted her female folds, tickling, teasing, and then began to stimulate her clitoris until the stars shattered all around her and a low scream was torn from her throat. The rapturous peak of release held her prisoner until finally Marc lifted his head and smiled.
    She might have smiled back, if she’d had the strength.
    He shifted over her, his handsome face intent, positioning himself, his hands braced on either side of her shoulders. The crest of his hard cock tested her sex, pushing against the entrance enough so she felt the pressure, but he didn’t penetrate her body, and his thighs widened her legs even more. “Shall we make permanent our mutual decision to rule Anasta side by side, Princess?”
    Somehow she managed to find her voice, though it sounded off-key when she responded. “I would not be here with you like this if I thought I might change my mind, Ambassador.”
    “I rushed you in here the moment you agreed.”
    “I allowed myself to be rushed.”
    “Ah, the imperious royal voice resurfaces.” He touched her cheek in a light brush of his knuckles. “You might not believe this, but this moment is as new to me as it is to you.”
    “You are a virgin?” Jayla stared at him in disbelief.
    “No.” He chuckled, but then sobered. “But in a way, yes, I suppose I am, for I have never mated with the woman who would be my life partner before. It is somehow…different.”
    “Is it?” Had he chosen to say almost anything else, she couldn’t imagine it to be more reassuring. Perhaps it was diplomatic rhetoric, but Jayla didn’t think so, and when he began to ease inside her, she exhaled and did her best to relax to accept his size and the intimate possession. After what he’d just done to her, she thought, still locked in the haze of post-orgasmic pleasure, he could use her body as he wanted.
    Part of her protested his size, which seemed enormous, but as he slowly pushed his erection into her vaginal passage, she found she could accommodate him after all. There was a brief sting as her hymen gave way, and then, somehow, he was buried deeply within her, his lean hips against her inner thighs. Marc kissed her temple, and he might have asked a question—she wasn’t sure because her mind was occupied with how it felt to be so intimately joined with another being. Her nails bit into his shoulders. “Shouldn’t you move, Ambassador?”
    “Shouldn’t you call me Marc?” One dark brow arched up playfully, but the tension in his muscles and the sheen of sweat on his skin was a giveaway he wasn’t as composed as he acted. “Considering the circumstances?”
    Perhaps she should, for formality at a moment like this was a little ridiculous, but as the coil of enjoyment deep in her stomach tightened as he slid backwards and then sank back inside, all she managed was a small gasp. The glide of his sex into hers wasn’t completely without discomfort because of his size, but the stretching sensation was by far overshadowed by the rapturous, almost primitive pleasure.
    It was primitive, she discovered moments later, as she learned the rhythm of thrust and withdrawal. The male