It was well past midnight before the party ended and Jasmine retired to her room quietly. One of the maids was there to help her out of her dress. She took a quick shower and changed into a nightgown. Her thoughts still reeling by Cristiano's admission as she sat before the fireplace wiggling her toes in front of the fire.

Jasmine settled back in her chair for a long time, reviewing the evening in her mind. It had begun badly, but then she danced with Cristiano and he took her to his favorite place in the world, kissed her and confessed his love for her. She sighed and closed her eyes, reliving the interlude, tucking it away with other memories like a delicate flower pressed between the pages of a book.

Before she knew it, she had dozed off and dreamed of music, champagne, and a prince who swept her off her feet and carried her into the sunset as they lived happily ever after. When Jasmine awakened with a jolt.

The fire had gone out, and the room was dark, except for the moonlight flowing in through the terrace doors. She rose from the chair, her muscles cramped and climbed into bed, stretched out, and pulled the covers into place over her, then bolted right back up at the sounds of gentle knock sounded at the door of her bedroom.

Jasmine stopped moving, stopped thinking, stopped breathing.

The door opened and Cristiano was there stepping over the threshold closing the door behind him. He watched her for a long moment. Although his features were in shadow, she could feel herself turning hot under his glittering gaze.

"Can I hold you tonight?" He asks quietly, standing over her in silence for a few moments, admiring her as though she were the work of a sculpture, come to life before his very eyes. "I feel a strong urge demanding your presence. I simply cannot spend another minute without you by me."

He had discarded his coat and tie, but still wore the fitted trousers and white shirt he'd had on at the ball. Jasmine's eyes refocus, searching his gaze as he sat perched at the edge of the bed. He lifted her hand, which gripped the sheets like they were her anchor, and kissed it gently. He closed is eyes and said her name.

Cristiano sighed and touched his lips to her forehead as she stayed mute, still too stricken, trying to absorb the intensity of their bond now that it was all out in the open.

She licked her lips, glancing at him from beneath her lashes. She couldn't refuse him. For she craved his attention, his presence, just as much as he did hers. It felt like a small part of her soul had a gap and became whole again whenever he was near. It was strange for her to understand how her body needed him, reached out to him without her knowing how.

Swaying towards him, Jasmine felt her heartbeat become rapid and erratic. His control was supreme as he waited for her to make the first move. Hesitantly she rested her hands on his chest and felt his muscles constrict.

"Make love to me, Cristiano."

It came out trembling and low, but it was said.

Cristiano's eyes widened.

"Are you sure about this?" He asks, watching her carefully. "We can wait. There is no rush. I do not want to–."

Jasmine placed a finger over his lips. "I've never been so sure of anything in my life." She interrupted.

He searched her eyes for assurance. For a moment he appeared to be holding his breath. Then, his arms moved, but not to hold her. His hands found the bow that fastened the silk robe covering the matching gown. Cristiano untied and pushed it off her shoulders, down her arms and discarded it on the floor.

Jasmine was a quaking mass of nerves, her bare feet as cold as ice, when Cristiano swung her into his arms. He held her easily, as if she weighed no more than a feather. The bulging muscles of this arms formed an iron-hard cradle. His gaze never left her face as he carried her to the adjoining door connecting their rooms together without expressing a word.

He nudged the door to his room with his leg effortlessly and swiftly carried her to his enormous bedroom. He pressed a button on the wall and the room glowed with firelight. The floor was white tile, covered by a white fur rug in front of a white abode fireplace. A king-sized bed sat, pristine and untouched, in the center of the room and laid her down on the mattress as gently as a baby. He followed her down, stretching beside her, his hand cupping the side of her neck to feel the pulse that throbbed wildly there.

"I'll make you happy, Yasmina." He smoothed the blonde-brown hair from her throat and kissed her leaping pulse. "I will worship you like the goddess you are."

Yes, she thought, he would make her happy. He would take care of her. He would keep her safe. He would love her as a man loved a woman. He was her husband and she his wife. Forever.

Her hands slid inside the collar of his shirt. He tugged it free of the waistband of his pants and dispensed with the last few buttons, giving her free access to his warm, hard flesh. His caressing hands explored her shoulders and arms and the hollows of her throat, ignoring the intimate areas covered by the satin gown as his mouth ignored the taste of her lips.

Jasmine knew he was giving her time to grow accustomed to his touch and ease her nerves. Readying her for his intense lovemaking. He leveled himself on his elbows above her. His shirt hung open, revealing tanned skin and a mass of curling dark hairs that veed to his stomach. His legs covers hers to hold her there, pinning her with his weight. Imprisoning her arms, he spread-eagled them above her head.

She struggled against the shackles of his hands, wanting to touch him, to feel his naked skin against her own. Her whole body ached for him. She felt drunk with desire. Her breasts were rising and falling in deep breaths, barely covered by the revealing gown and fully aware of the pressing heat of his body holding her down.

She sensed the force of power and authority in his hold. The dominance in his stare. They were dark eyes, hungry with need.

Finally he covered her lips with a possesive kiss that gave her a great measure of reassurance. Jasmine strained closer to his length, trying to absorb some of the strength he had in such abundance. He moved his body up against hers, rubbing his chest against her, pressing his hardness between her legs in unbearable desperation.

She kissed him with such a passion so pure and sweet she gave him permission to take her soul. Cristiano let go of her wrists and ran his hands down the length of her soft skin, kissing her lips, her breasts covered by a thin barrier which he could have easily ripped from her body.

But he didn't want to scare her. His need for her was burning like an inferno.

Everything inside him screamed to rip off her panties and plunge his hard, hot length into her soft willing, soaking entrance. Everything recess of his body sought to unleash the pent up frustration to consume her.

A tiny sob came from her throat, born out of desire and it snapped the last of his control. He hands sought out her hips, pulling up the gown passed her waist and breasts, their irritation for the filmy gown growing in direct proportion to the increase of his carnal longing. He moved back and gently lifted the thin material over her head.

Lying naked before him, her face flamed in shyness, her hair fanning the pillow like a halo. Cristiano sat up, removing his shirt, muscles rippling all down his belly, never removing his eyes from her body, a half-smile gracing his sensual lips. His eyes remained hooded as he studied her. He removed his trousers leaving him in his silk boxers.

"Are you sure about this, my Yasmina." He murmured, running his had down her leg, his touch smooth and reassuring, noticing her eyes were wide, her chest heaving with the deep breaths she took.

"Yes."

Nothing on earth was going to stop him from taking her now.

He drew in a deep breath, his head filling with the scent of her, soap and shampoo, covering her body with his own, lowering his head, brushing his mouth over her forehead. His thumbs brushed over a swollen nipple, nipping and and bitting at the sensitive tip. His eyes were fastened on hers, watching her expression, watching her shudder and the color in her cheeks rise. He saw the flush deepen, saw her mouth part to allow her to draw a shaken breath. The muscles of her stomach clenched in instinctive response to the sensations he evoked.

With a groan, he lowered his head and his mouth closed over one swollen nipple giving in to the hunger that boiled in him. A need that had been gnawing in his gut for weeks. Her legs instinctively shifted apart to cradle the hardness of his arousal against her feminine core. Cristiano rocked his hips forward, torturing himself with the feel of her.

A small whimper came from her beautifully parted lips and her eyes closed tightly, her head falling back, her surrender complete. He attacked the other pink nipple, his tongue soothing the puckered flesh. He licked and pulled, sucking as much of her as possible into his mouth until she made soft, gasping sounds.

Cristiano tore away from her, eyes wild. He couldn't wait anymore. He grabbed her panties in a fist and yanked it from her body. It stretched then snapped with a satisfying sound, the strings breaking loud in the room.

He couldn't keep himself from pressing his lips to her inner thigh wanting to pound into her and never stop. He could smell her rich scent as he wrapped an arm around her lush round thigh, cradling her close.

Jasmine's hands tugged at his hair, moaning, her head swishing back and forth, hips pushing toward him in a rocking rhythm as he tasted her essence. His tongue spread her lips open then suckled her bud into his mouth. More moans tore from her throat, her pleasure saturating the air. His member throbbed so hard at the sounds of her chocked sobs as he worked a release from her body feeling the pulsing waves soar through her. He kept lapping at her open entrance with his tongue prolonging the tremors of her climax as he readied her to accept him.

She arched off the bed and screamed. Hard, arching shudders racking her body, her sex flooding with wet heat. Cristiano stood and dropped his boxers before climbing over her. She looked disheveled and flushed–and it was the sexiest thing he'd ever seen. He couldn't wait any longer. She was wet and ready.

He had to have her before he exploded.

"Yasmina. . ." He says in a strained voice, warning her before he entered. However, he couldn't wait for a response.

He snapped.

His hardness found her softness seething himself, closing his eyes, pausing at the delicate barrier shielding her innocence. He felt himself pulse inside her, finding her lips and kissing her deeply then he smoothly thrust in one long stroke.

Jasmine cried out from the shock and pain and stiffened, her eyes flying open at the overwhelming feeling of being stretched and torn through. Her head twisted against the covers never knowing anything could feel so intense.

She heard Cristiano whispering apologies and stroking her hair, glancing down at her anxiously. She wanted him to stop and without the words being spoken out loud, Cristiano looked into her eyes, stiffened and slowly began to withdraw.

Jasmine scissored her legs behind his back to keep him suspended inside her. "Don't move, please. Stay."

"I don't want to hurt you, Yasmina. If it's too much–"

He was so hard, so long, her sex engulfed him like a tight glove. She had never felt anything so complete and right then she did at that moment. If he moved she would lose that feeling and she never wanted it to stop. Groans passed through his throat as he squeezed his eyes shut in control. His lips came down on hers and the kiss was sweet with a trace of longing.

It was him claiming her. It was sincere passion that had her feeling like she was floating. God, she loved this man with all her heart.

His soft caresses and delicate kisses gradually diffused the pain. Trusting his gentleness, her body opened like an unfolded flower to fully accept him. Waiting for her unfolding, he kissed her shoulders, her throat, her eyes, cheeks. . .and when she ran her hands down his smooth, strong back he knew she was ready.

Propping his weight on his hands, he slid slowly at first, than began pumping hard and fast. Gasping, she clutched at his back, her nails digging deep. Her hips moved in rhythm with his and he gritted his teeth, fighting for control, determined to bring her to pleasure before he found his own release.

She clutched him to her, moving with him as one, reveling in his penetration. Savoring every sensation of his long, vigorous strokes.

Cristiano could have died a happy man, her tight sex gripping him like wet, hot velvet. She was so tight, so small he was amazed for the first time in his life. He watched her beautiful face as he stroked inside her, slowly and steadily, until she withered beneath him. She held absolutely nothing back in her responses to him. His Yasmina in the throes of passion, with her long thick hair spread around her.

It was one of the most erotic sights he'd ever seen.

"Come for me, my Goddess." His voice breathy and hoarse.

"Cristiano." She moaned, arching beneath him.

Her orgasm clenched him, her climax coming quickly, consuming her totally. Burying her face against his shoulder, she cried out his name over and over while she spasmed around him.

He felt his exploding release shooting out from him and dousing her deeply in long hot spurts. He kept thrusting, the tightening of her muscles clenching him, milking him, tugging, pulling more from him. She screamed, her hips bucking against his.

Cristiano's lean muscled heavy body collapsed atop her, clinging to her in shuddering exhaustion, both of them panting. After a long moment, Jasmine let out a shaky sigh and dropped her arms from around his neck onto the bed, exhausted. Cristiano nestled against her shoulder, closing his eyes against the crook of her neck. They lay like that for a long time, holding and touching, their bodies spent and tingling in contentment.

Once their panting leveled to even breaths, Cristiano lifted his weight with difficulty and slowly pulled out, watching her sex gripping his shaft as he did and it only managed to make him as hard as a pole again.

Jasmine watched on, her eyes widening in amazement.

"Again already?" She asked in a drowsy whisper.

Cristiano cursed himself and shook his head, pulling them both under the comforter.

"My mind and body craves more of you. But its much too soon. Sleep now, my beautiful Princess." He replied, kissing her brow.

She naturally slid across his chest like she belonged there and it felt good. His heart thudded as he held his woman in his arms. She snuggled her cheek against his shoulder. She trusted and loved him. He kisses the top of her head, looking down at their bodies molded together.

"You are a gift, a treasure, and I'm the luckiest man alive to have a woman such as you by me." He whispers in the darkness.

This was completion, she thought, an emptiness filled. Jasmine knew her entire life she'd never been whole.

Not until that moment.

Not until this man.

******

Jasmine awoke slowly the next morning, stretching her sore muscles as her hands met the headboard of the bed and pried her tired eyes open. Warmth suffused her body at what transpired last night.

She quickly shifted her head to find the side Cristiano occupied and found it empty. With an outstretched arm, she found the sheets cold and not warm like she anticipated. He had left their bed for some time. Jasmine frowned, a little bit scared and saddened by the fact.

Did he regret making the huge sacrifice of choosing her over his revenge? She felt a heavy seeping feeling fill her gut and she rubs the spot. The clenching did not stop, the unsettling feeling upsetting her. Wouldn't a man, a man in love, and meant every word he said stay in bed with the woman he loved? Isn't that how it was portrayed in the movies, books and real life?

He should be asleep beside her, if not sleeping, at least awake watching her sleep with a reassuring smile on his face to confirm or at least demolish the uncertainty.

Jasmine got up bathed quickly and got dressed. She quickly descended the stairs, her anxiety making her tremble. Knowing without asking the staff, she found Cristiano in his study like she guessed he would be.

His face was dark, hidden in the shadows of morning where he as at behind his dark desk. Jasmine felt nauseated, her stomach uneasy at the sight of his tense body. He didn't seem like a man who was happy he had her as his wife after she gave her body and soul up to him.

"What is it?" She asked.

She wanted to go to him at once. Only her pride stopped her and the icy look in his eyes as he stepped forward, out of the shadows. The man she saw yesterday disappeared. In his place was a man who looked distant, cruel, and without mercy.

"I cannot be the man you want. I cannot. . . ". He shoved a hand through his hair. "I cannot forget what has been done to my sister, Yasmina."

She frowned. "What are you talking? I thought. . ."

Feeling the coldness, where his warmth had been him settled over her.

He clenched his jaw for a moment. "What I said to you last night were words spoken in passion. What happened between us changes nothing. I cannot be the man you want me to be."

"No." She frowned at him, shaking her head in denial. His words settled on her like a blanket of ice, freezing her to the bone. She didn't want believe what he was saying. "You said you loved me. You said you would give up your revenge–".

He gave a harsh, ugly laugh. "It was a trick. It was all an act. I wanted you and lied doing it. I would have done anything, said anything to win you in my bed." He shrugged. "You were willing, and I used you."

No.

She was stunned. Numb.

"I do not want the burden of a wife. I do not want children." His dark eyes burned through her like acid. "I want my freedom. I want justice!"

The sound Jasmine made was part laugh and part sob. She trembled and inhaled a ragged breath feeling like he'd punched her in the gut. A part of her wanted to fling herself into Cristiano's arms and summon all her inner resources as to why he should forget what life expected of him and persuade him he had the ability be a different man if only he tried. But she knew he couldn't grant her wish. He was too warped in the mind for her to try to get him to realize the cost of his actions.

He lied to her. He lied all this time and she believed the lies and fell into his trap. Last night she wanted to believe, because she was too naive to accept the truth.

"It's over."

Tears filled her eyes, feeling sick and wounded. "Why are you doing this? Did you ever love me at all, you sick heartless bastard? You were toying with me all this time?" She asked in disbelief.