Conquering the Queen by Ava Sinclair

to protect my people. And I could not if I let myself feel anything. For what is more vulnerable, more helpless, than a woman who loves? What bigger fool exists in this world to mock?”
    When Xander had laid her on the bed, he’d felt in command. Now, in the hard light of her revelation, he felt smaller than he’d ever felt in his life.
    “I did not know,” he said.
    “Yes,” she said. “It’s hard to know things when you refuse to ask about them. Instead, you just believed my father’s lies that I betrayed you, just as my people believed yours when you told them that I brought the winter.”
    “I had nothing to do with the lie told to your people,” Xander said. “That was Cynric’s doing. And my father’s. I knew nothing of it until you told me.”
    “It hardly matters now,” she said. “When power is the objective, even those closest to you are mere casualties. My father taught me that.”
    “Avin…”
    “Your father taught you well, too,” she said, interrupting him. “He’s taught you to walk to the throne on a road paved by lies, and to earn the allegiance of your new subjects by publicly debasing their queen for a wrong she could not have committed.” She shook her head. “Lord Reginald destroyed the good in you as surely as my father destroyed the good in me. But only one of us wears a crown around her neck.”
    Even the physical victory he’d enjoyed over Avin felt hollow in light of her painful assessment.
    “What have I done?” Suddenly the idea of breaking her felt repugnant to him, and he reached down, gathering her into his arms. She was stiff, and he inwardly mourned the wall of hurt he now realized he’d helped construct.
    “Forgive me,” he said.
    She felt hot tears soaking his shirt as she began to sob. “Forgive you? What king asks forgiveness of a slave?”
    “Avin…” He gently pushed her away. “I have wronged you. Terribly.”
    “Yes,” she said sadly. “But we both know it cannot be reversed. Not now. To do so will only throw Windbourne back in turmoil.” She wiped away tears with the back of her hand and looked toward the window. “I can no longer love these people after what they did, but I can acknowledge that they have suffered enough. The long winter was not their fault, but neither was the lie that made them angry. And now simple people have been promised a humbled queen, and you must deliver.”
    He sighed. “It is too much to ask,” he said.
    “Then don’t.” Avin gave him the smallest and saddest of smiles.
    “You are the king,” she said. “So train me.” The tears came then, and she softened in his arms. “Save me, Xander, lest I never feel again.”
    “I am sorry,” he said into her hair. “I am sorry I didn’t come. I am sorry I was not the one to kill your father for the hurt he caused you. I am sorry that I caused you even more. I should have known better. I should have never believed the worst.” He put his forehead against hers. “Let me make it better, my love.”
    He put his hand down between her legs. She was wet. He laid her down, covering her body with his own. He fastened his mouth to hers, kissing her demandingly. She resisted at first, as if by reaction, but broke to his resistance, her slim arms winding around his neck.
    He leaned back, roughly pulling her legs apart. She cried out as his buried his face between them, as the stubble of his face made contact with the welts left by the crop. Xander turned his head, kissing each one, and then attached his mouth to her pussy. She screamed her passion, even as she struggled.
    Xander knew her rebellion now for what it was—a cry to feel his control. She had been a queen, but as his slave was now coming against the demanding mouth of her master, her hips bucking, her hands in his hair, her cries of passion filling the room.
    He was reluctant to tear his mouth away from her intoxicating core, but Xander could think of nothing now but being inside of her, of dominating her as