“No,” I tell her, more sharply than I mean to. “We’ll resume the tour later. I have a meeting I have to get to.”
My meeting doesn’t start for another hour, in fact, but I know that my desire has very nearly reached the point of no return. I need to get away from her or my self-control will snap.
“No problem!” She shakes her head, little droplets of water still clinging to her hair. “I wouldn’t want to put you out or make you late.” She hesitates, giving me a small smile as she steps into the room. “Until tomorrow, then.”
And then she shuts the door.
The sound of it closing between us is almost physically painful.
I make it back to my own chambers as quickly as I can, desperate for the calm silence of my own rooms in which to think.
Unbelievably, my cock is still hard, straining against my trousers in a futile attempt to free itself. The desire for Emma is pulsing through my veins, my entire body aching with unfulfilled need.
The moment the door is closed, I can’t stop myself any longer. I need some kind of relief, something to clear my head so I can think logically about this. I lean back against the door, tearing at the fastening of my pants as I pull out the hard, throbbing length of my cock. Even the feeling of my own hand wrapping around the shaft is enough to make me groan with relief.
I’ve taken care of my own needs for years, more times than I can count.
But never like this.
It’s furious, my hand a blur as I arch my hips into my fist, the only thought in my head the desperate need to come. It feels like fire in my veins, like no lust I’ve ever experienced, and I can’t ever remember being this hard before. It’s as if every nerve in my body is alight, every part of me focused on the blur of my hand stroking my shaft. I press my upper back harder against the door, groaning helplessly.
All I can think about is Emma. The shape of her body under the wet dress, the way she filled my hands as I touched her—her breasts, her hips, her curving waist. In my mind, I strip away the wet clothing and see her, nude and perfect atop me, those full lips hot and hungry on mine as I slide my cock into her.
The thought is enough to make me explode in a matter of seconds.
I grunt aloud as I come, hips jerking madly into my hand as I shudder, still stroking myself as ropes of my seed spill over my stomach and fingers. The moment that the last throbs of pleasure recede, I slump against the door, letting out a long sigh.
There, I think. That ought to take care of it.
I walk toward the bathroom to clean up, shedding my own still-damp clothing as I do so. But I’ve hardly taken two steps when I feel that rush of need again and realize to my shock that I’m still hard.
Not the half-hardness of a receding erection, either, but stiff and solid, aching again as if I didn’t just come in a blinding rush under my own touch.
I groan aloud, both from need and frustration.
Desh. I have a meeting in a little over a half an hour now, and something has to be done about this. I can’t focus in my current state, and I certainly can’t sit at a table of my ministers unable to stand up because I have a raging erection that won’t go away.
It would go away if you’d just go to her.
My chest tightens, and I push that thought away as quickly as it appeared.
It’s not an option. And even if it was, I don’t have time. I’ve heard the stories of Kalixian mating lust, how newly matched couples spend days, even weeks sequestered away, the male claiming his female furiously over and over.
My cock throbs painfully. Gods, I have to do something about this.
I sit on the edge of the bed, reaching down to slowly run my hand over the length of my shaft. My thoughts are in turmoil, the entire situation throwing me off and setting me on edge. I’ve never felt this way in my life.
Not for any female.
When I was a bright-eyed boy, before the war with the Orkun began, I sometimes thought about the day I would be mated to a Kalixian woman.
When that day came, whoever she was—low born or high—I was told that I would want her more than anything else in the universe. She would be my princess, the woman who would rule at my side one day when it was my turn to take the throne, and we would only ever be mated to each other.
Then came the Orkun. The war.
Any dreams I once had of finding my mate died along with the females of our species. Many of the other highborn males turned to casual dalliance, taking advantage of any off-world travels to hire women who would be happy to satisfy their needs in exchange for Kalixian coin.
But the thought of paying for what had once been explained to me as the height of intimacy made me cringe.
And though there have been no shortage of dignitaries’ daughters or visiting royalty who have taken an interest in a night with me, the self-control of a ruler has become so ingrained in me that I refused them all. I was unwilling to risk important alliances and economic ties on one night of pleasure.
The result of my restraint is that I’ve reached adulthood without ever having touched a woman beyond boyish, childish kisses.
Until today.
Thoughts of Emma swirl in my mind. I’m still burning with lust, my cock rock-hard and pulsing against my palm as I stroke my fingers down the length of it, gasping with both the pleasure and my need for relief.
Maybe I just need to go slower this time, I consider, rubbing my thumb over the tip and arching my hips forward, imagining that the touch is Emma’s fingers exploring my cock for the first time, her lips pressing against the tip of it as she prepares to take me in her mouth.
Oh, gods.
I groan aloud, the thought of what it might feel like to slide into her wet, willing mouth nearly making me explode again.
What would her tongue feel like, sliding up my length, caressing me as her lips tighten around me? I picture her beautiful face, upturned as I slide myself into her mouth, her eyes meeting mine.
I wouldn’t last long, that’s certain. I’d have to stop, give myself a moment, and then I’d pick her up, lay her back on the bed so that I could see all of her, displayed there for me to look at.
So perfect. So mine.
My hand is flying over my cock again, all thoughts of taking it slow gone. I need to come again desperately, my skin on fire with it. The thought of how near she is springs into my head again. It would be so easy for me to stride down the hallway and return to her suite, where she was about to change when I left her.
She might still be nude, perhaps even lying on her bed doing the same thing I am now.
The thought of her touching herself excites me beyond belief. My cock throbs in my hand as my mind switches wildly between imagined images of her.
In one, she’s spread out on the bed beneath me, enveloping me in her wet heat as I grip those full hips that felt so good under my hands and thrust into her.
In another, she’s lying naked on the luxurious bed, her hand moving between her legs with the same urgency I feel as she arches her back and moans aloud.
I’m not even entirely sure what a human woman looks like naked, but I can imagine, based on the outline of her in that dress. And I can imagine what her sweet voice would sound like as she cries out in pleasure, her legs wrapping tight around me as she comes.
“Krax!”
With a loud curse, I come hard again, my cock throbbing painfully in my fist as it erupts for the second time in a matter of minutes. It feels like I’m being turned inside out, the need still raging through me as I thrust up desperately into my hand, wishing more than anything that I could come inside her.