“Again?” I widen my eyes. Of course we weren’t going to do this only once. I’d just hoped that it wouldn’t happen again so soon. I enjoyed it far too much the first time.

“I plan on acquainting myself with you many times.”

I feel his erection press against me, and my breath catches. Just like last night, his fingers touch the soft skin between my legs. His thumb dances circles around my sensitive flesh until I moan. I bite back the sound, but it’s too late.

Montes wears a knowing grin, and his finger moves faster. “Like that?” he whispers against my ear.

“This changes nothing,” I gasp out.

“I think it does.” I can feel myself getting slick against him, and the bastard’s fully aware of this as well. He removes his hand, and I feel the hard press of him against my opening.

I’m still sore from last night, so when he pushes himself inside me, air whistles through my teeth as I inhale. And just like last night, the soreness is soon replaced by the first stirrings of pleasure. The whole thing is wrong, wrong, wrong. Then again, I’m not the most morally righteous person; war hasn’t afforded me that luxury. So instead of retreating into my mind, I tentatively begin to touch the king.

First my hands glide over his shoulders and arms, stroking the bunched muscles beneath the skin. Above me the king stills, and I meet his gaze.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“Discovering my . . . husband.” It’s hard for me to call him that—to think of him like that, but some wars are won by surrendering certain, doomed battles, and this is one of them.

He watches me, unmoving, and I squirm against him. “Why have you stopped?”

Something a whole lot like affection—or maybe victory—brightens his eyes. He leans in and kisses me, and the feeling of being joined in two places nearly throws me over the edge. Who knew that beneath my tough exterior was a sex-starved woman?

When the kiss ends, he begins moving again. “Does that feel better?” he whispers.

I close my eyes and hum in response. We continue like that, enjoying extremely sinful and morally questionable sex for a while, before I open my eyes again and run my fingers down his cheek. His large, dark eyes shutter at my touch and his tempo increases.

Heat builds at my core, and finally I cry out and clutch him as my orgasm lashes through me. His strokes become harder and deeper, and I feel him throb inside me as he finds his own release.