Chapter Seven

C harles stared up at the intricate dome in the ceiling above the royal bed. Created out of hundreds of tiles, it reminded him of the Spanish sky on a moonless night. It seemed to sparkle and the more he looked, the more tiny, bright points he could see.

Isabella stirred beside him and he shifted his attention to her sleeping face. She was so beautiful in sleep, her eyelashes were long and feminine, her skin as delicate as the first fall of snow, and her lips, slightly parted, temptingly kissable.

She'd been asleep when he'd climbed into bed and with her reddish hair freshly brushed and fanned out on the pillow, she'd looked like an angel. He'd once again sent a prayer to heaven to thank the Lord that he'd been so lucky to claim her as his wife.

But even as he'd done that, he'd rebuked himself for making haste on the journey to Granada. They should have had rest days. He'd been a fool to insist they push on. Just because he and his men could endure days on end in the saddle, it didn't mean his precious wife could.

And this knowledge boosted his willpower. For his wife was naked beneath the sheet, as was he. Any other woman in his bed he'd have woken with ardent suggestions for passionate fun. But he couldn't risk it with Isabella, not when she'd collapsed from her horse. In the name of the Good Lord, she could already be carrying his heir.

A bird chirped outside, several times, then began to sing. He supposed it was a goldfinch—he always saw many of them in the palace. They would often sit on the wall of the balcony that led from the bedchamber, pretty, little things searching for breakfast crumbs or insects amongst the flowers.

Isabella stirred at the sound floating in to the room through the vast windows shaded by thin, black muslin.

Propping up onto his elbow, he moved a strand of hair from her cheek.

Her eyes fluttered open. For a moment, she appeared disorientated, but then her attention settled on his face and she smiled. "I knew you were with me. I felt your body heat in the night."

"Were you too hot?"

"No, it is beautifully pleasant here, with the mountain breeze just sliding into the room."

Charles swiped his tongue over his bottom lip then pressed a kiss against her brow. He knew what he wanted. To lick her, all over.

"Did you eat, before you slept?" he asked.

"Yes, Luisa insisted on some bread and cheese with a few olives."

"Good. You must regain your strength. Though I hope while we are here, we'll do much resting and feasting that will nourish us both."

"And did you feast?" she asked. "With your men, when we arrived?"

"I ate a fish and bean stew and drank some, but I did not linger, for I wanted to assure myself that you were well and resting."

"I am sorry I was sleeping when you arrived. But I am glad you did join me."

"Do not apologize for a single thing." He stroked down her throat and touched the cross that sat against her skin at an angle. "For you have more color in your cheeks now, and that has pleased me so."

She smiled and gazed up at him. "I always want to please you."

He didn't answer. Instead, he very gently pushed at the sheet covering her breasts, until the first suggestions of her nipples were revealed.

She swallowed and he sensed her tensing slightly. Her eyes were wide as she looked up at him.

His cock hardened. Everything about her was so innocent and pure, yet she was willing and sensual with it.

He pulled the sheet lower, exposing her ripe breasts fully. Her skin was perfect and her nipples small, pink points. "I want you to know pleasure of every kind," he whispered as he took her right nipple between his thumb and finger. He squeezed it gently. "Will you let me show you?"

Her eyelids fluttered, as though she were concentrating on the sensation he was creating. "I will. I want you to show me."

"Good." He switched breasts, teasing the other nipple into the same stiff point. "You are so responsive." He tipped forward and kissed her, enjoying the feel of her soft, eager flesh and her slight gasp when he tugged her nipple.

But he wanted more, much more. He wanted to feast on her.

Which was exactly how he intended to start his day.

Gently, he pushed the sheet lower, past her flat abdomen, her cunny, and to her thighs. Then he broke the kiss and propped himself up to study her graceful curves. She was the perfect woman. No other compared.

"You must promise to lie still for me," he said, raising his eyebrows slightly.

"Still?"

"Yes." He raised his eyebrows. "For now, at least."

Her attention followed him as he reached across to the table on his side of the bed. Upon it was a bowl of chopped fruit—grapes, peaches, apricots—and a bowl of honey with a tiny pewter spoon in it. He placed the bowl of fruit on the bed within reach and plucked out a halved grape.

Gently, he rested it against her lips. "Eat."

She did as instructed and he watched her chew and swallow.

"And now, sweet wife, you will become my plate to dine upon." He took another grape and placed it on her sternum. He added another and another until a row of three glistening, purple spheres sat on her skin.

"Charles," she said, her breasts rising and falling with each breath. "What are you…?"

"I wish to break my fast on you." He too ate a grape, then he plucked a halved apricot from the bowl and gently set it close to her right nipple. "Stay still. I don't want the fruit to fall from where I put it."

"I'll try."

Her eagerness to please touched his heart and he kissed her again, tasting the sugariness of her lips.

He sat upright and reached for another apricot. As he placed it on her other breast, his cock twitched—he was almost at full hardness. But his pleasure would have to wait. This was about Isabella learning what her body could feel.

"You are the perfect dish," he said, stroking the undersides of her breasts in small, sweeping movements. "The perfect breakfast for an emperor."

She trembled, the apricots quivering.

"Now for some peach," he said, retrieving a segment. "Just here." He placed the soft crescent of fruit just below her navel, in the shape of a smile. "And another." He added three more, his movements slow and steady.

A trickle of juice from a peach meandered to her waist. He caught it with his finger and brought it to his mouth, sucking.

She was watching him intently.

"Here, have some." He popped a segment between her lips. "Good?"

She nodded and chewed.

"Let me try." He tipped forward and scooped the first grape he'd placed down on her sternum into his mouth. "Delicious." He kissed her. "But I'm not done yet."

"You're not?"

"Oh, no."

Outside, the goldfinches were reaching a crescendo with their music for the dawn. It calmed his eagerness to find satisfaction for both of them and he continued to slowly add peaches to her body, a pattern of segments that stopped at her neat patch of hair. "There," he said, straightening to admire his handiwork. "I think I am rather good at this." He chuckled.

She laughed too and an apricot rolled from her breast.

He caught it and replaced it. "Keep still, remember."

"Yes." Her voice was breathy…excited, almost. Certainly full of anticipation. He hoped she was remembering her wedding night climax and was hoping for more of the same, because providing that was very much his intention…but not how she was expecting it.

He reached behind himself for the pot of honey and stirred the sticky, amber liquid. "What would breakfast be without this?" he said, lifting the spoon and watching the gloopy sweetness sink back to the bowl.

She didn't answer, though she balled her fists as though preparing for the unexpected.

He smiled and held the spoon over her cunny. But he didn't let it trickle—he toiled with it, keeping the blob on the end of the spoon. "Open your legs, Isabella, but don't let the fruit topple."

She held her breath then did as he'd asked.

"More than that," he said with a smile.

Her thighs parted a little wider.

"That's it." Now he let the honey drip from the spoon, right onto the spot from which he intended to lick it.

"Oh…Charles…I…"

"Shh." He replaced the spoon and set the honey aside. He stared at her face. "There is something you should know about me."

"There is?" She swallowed. Her breaths were coming fast.

"Yes, honey is my favorite treat at breakfast. I just can't resist." He shifted down the bed, placed his hands on her inner thighs, and parted the legs further. Then he poked out his tongue and ran it over her soft feminine lips.

"Oh, dear Lord." She gasped, stabbing her fingers into his hair and sending peaches, grapes, and apricots sliding to the sheets. "Charles."

"Mmm." He looked up at her shocked face. "Perfect. Not that I've finished yet."

He closed his eyes and licked her again, through every delicate fold until he found her swollen nub. The taste of honey combined with her sensual flavor had his balls tightened with longing.

"Charles, what are you…?" She coiled forward, breathing hard and tugging at his hair.

"Do not stop me," he said, raising his eyebrows at her. "For I wish to know you this way and I wish you to feel me bringing you pleasure this way." He slid a finger to her entrance and eased in.

"Oh!" Her mouth opened in a perfect circle. "Surely…surely, this is a sin…" She closed her eyes, her eyelashes fluttering, as though she were feeling anything but sinful.

"It is not a sin, I assure you," he said, kissing her inner thigh. "Now lie back and just feel."

"Oh, help me, Lord."

He smiled and licked her cunny again, sending his finger deeper into her gripping warmth. He sought her little nub and laved it with his tongue.

Her hold tightened on his hair and she groaned, dropping back to the bed. His heart did a flip of triumph. It seemed she'd forgotten about being sinful and was doing as he'd asked—giving herself up to sensation.

He kept on going, concentrating on which action of his tongue had her groaning and yanking at his hair the most. He added another finger, deep inside her, soaked now with arousal.

And he was so erect that it hurt. Moisture leaked from his cock tip and perspiration peppered the dip of his back and his underarms. The need to sink deep into her cunny and release his seed was growing by the second. But he wanted her to find pleasure on his tongue, and it wouldn't be the first time. Because he already knew this was an act he'd do again and again. Feeling her writhe and squirm and cant her hips for more was so thrilling. Hearing her gasp and pant his name and groan from a place deep in her throat was something he'd always want more of.

"Oh…oh…" Her body stiffened, her thighs clamping against his shoulders. She stilled, as if all her concentration were on one sensation.

He didn't let up. He used his fingers like a cock, rubbing her insides as he worked her deep. He flicked her nub with his tongue, fast little tweaks that she seemed to enjoy the most.

She cried out, arousal gushing from her and her cunny pulsing around his fingers. She pushed against his face, as though needing everything he could give her and more.

He gently sucked her twitching nub into his mouth, still laving it with his tongue.

Again, she cried out, yanking at his hair then clamping his face to her grinding hips.

Heated desire scorched through his veins. He could contain himself no longer, and he pulled from her cunny and rose upward. Gripping his solid cock, he angled it at her entrance and plunged into her as he swooped down for a kiss.

She whimpered and clasped his shoulders, her knees gripping his hips.

He was out of control, he knew that, and as her hot, clenching cunny seized his cock, he released his seed. Three big pulses tore cries of pleasure from his throat.

Their kiss was frantic and lust-infused as they held each other in a place where he didn't know where he ended and she began. She filled his senses, her taste, her smell, the feel of her body surrounding his.

"Charles," she gasped, stroking his hair from his face.

He was breathing hard as he looked down at her. Her cheeks were flushed and her pupils wide.

"I never, in my imagination…thought that…"

"Would feel so good?" he said.

She laughed breathlessly. "That a man would even do that to a woman." She paused. "Or is it only emperors and empresses?"

He too laughed. "I believe it is a common bedchamber practice, though it is only emperors who dine off their wives for breakfast."

She traced his cheek to his jaw. "I am really quite sticky. Luisa will wonder what in heaven's name we have been doing."

"Breakfast in bed, that is all." He lifted slightly and felt something squishy on his chest. He glanced down. An apricot had mushed between them, its fibrous flesh totally flattened. He plucked it up and ate it. "And it has been the most delicious breakfast in which I have ever indulged."