I try not to shake as his hands slip over my shoulders, his body close to mine while he watches me, his mask now gone, abandoned somewhere on our journey between the ballroom and here. A dark room that smells of him, musk, cut grass, and mint. How can I possibly know that already? My heart is hammering at a hundred miles an hour and I feel like I might not survive being observed like this for much longer.

He lowers the fastening on the side of my dress, as he did before, and I feel it slip from my shoulders and whisper down over my hips to pool on the floor once more. I try to breathe, but all I can manage is shallow breaths and I pray he doesn't notice.

"Sasha, I'm not going to hurt you."

He walks around behind me and my shoulders instantly tense, my arms fighting with my brain not to cover my breasts from his sight. I keep them clamped to my sides. I want to run and hide, but at the same time my feet are glued to the luxurious carpet beneath them. "Breathe, my darling." His hands slip over my waist and pull me gently backward into his firm form, his lips once more connecting with my throat. I feel my nipples harden to stiff, sensitive peaks in the cool air of the room, and they ache as his hands come up to cup my breasts, his teeth scraping over my neck softly, making me hiss through gritted teeth before breathing deeply once more. "Good girl, that's it."

"I'm... I don't--"

The words are whispers, lost into the darkness before they've begun as his lips caress my shoulder and then down over my arm to my hand where I look down to find him kneeling at my feet. I can't help myself but push my fingers through the dark, luxurious curls of his hair, like silk, as he rises before me again.

"I'm scared."

He smiles warmly as he stands before me, my hands on his shoulders. "I'll never hurt you, Sasha. Just remember to breathe."

I whimper as a hand slips over my tummy, down between my thighs, in one elegant and masterful movement. My hands tighten on his shoulders and his gentle fingers find my core, making my back arch into him, my pelvis pressing into his hand.

"Yes, Sasha."

Before I know what I have done, I have kissed him. My lips claim his more forcefully than before as he uses me, his finger pressing into me, circling around me, his tongue joining mine in battle as my free hand struggles with the buttons of his shirt, finally releasing it. He shrugs it off, and his jacket, in one easy movement. Releasing me for just a moment, his hands make quick work of the fastenings of his trousers which fall to his feet as I drop, on shaking legs, to my knees.

"May I?" I reach forward toward the waistband of his underwear, looking up into his green gaze, the colour of emeralds. He nods shortly, his fingers gently  tangling in the waves of my hair.

He's a man assured of his masculinity as I unveil his length, already rigid, the tip of him thick and glistening just slightly. My hand encircles him tentatively and I hear a hiss, echoing my reaction from earlier as his fingers tighten just fractionally in my hair. I look up again to find his eyes closed. My inhibitions disappear as my lips descend, his length slipping into my mouth with little effort, the saltiness of him invading my senses alongside the scent of him that I have already come to adore. How, in such a short space of time, has he managed to ensnare me so?

His moan is caught on his breath, making it sound pained. I look up again to find his head dropped back slightly, the long, muscular column of his neck exposed, the muscles of his shoulders tense, his legs seemingly shaking as I dip and lift my head, enjoying the velvety steel length of him. His hands are firm on my head, but not guiding me, just engaging with the experience as I deepen my efforts, my tongue swirling over his tip, my fingers rolling his balls while I relish the opportunity to return his earlier favour.

Suddenly, I find myself on my back, his body crouched over mine on the floor. His arms are on either side of my shoulders, the muscles of his torso rippling as he watches me, his gaze dark, molten, and hungry. The moisture on his brow is testament to the strain I have put him under. 

"Miss Carr, you are far too good at that." His voice is a rough and needy whisper, 

His hips pressing between my legs, I open willingly for him. I feel the sinews of my arms stretch, the confidence of my arousal  causing my body to arch alluring towards him.

"What, Your Majesty, would you care to do about it?"

His smile is but a half smile, the edge of his lips pulling up just slightly. His lips press to mine again before drifting down over my jaw. "Use my name, Sasha, and I promise you'll find out," he teases gently, one hand slipping over my thigh and pulling it around his hip.

"Derek." I bite my lip as his gaze darkens still further. His fingers tighten on my thigh as his length glides into me, stretching and filling me, my body arching upward as I moan, unable to help myself, unable to keep my seductive cool as his claims me on yet another level. A groan escapes him, guttural and animalistic in nature, as we both stop for a moment, relishing the first moment, the pleasure verging on torturous wonder that is our union. Then I twist my hips just slightly and he gasps, before flexing his own, thrusting into me for the first time which causes me to cry out.

As our cries turn to moans, our moans turn to aching pleas of desire and ecstasy, we become entangled in each other, the web of desire becoming increasingly tight until everything stills for just a moment. The sounds and the waves, the pulsating of our bodies, it all pauses, like a moment frozen in time, suspended over oblivion which hovers beneath us, waiting. A kiss is all it takes, all consuming in nature. I was lost to him before, but now, as we escape into oblivion together, I am found.