By Royal Decree: Royally Romanced. Margaret Way
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He accepted her invitation as he slid inside with a single deep thrust.
She screamed in shocked satisfaction. “Yes, Giorgio, ohh…”
He grunted and kept pushing in and out of her. No more pretty words from him. Her butt ground against his flat belly, his balls swinging into her. His fingers dug into her hips as he pounded her. She clutched the headboard for support and he cupped her breasts with his big hands. She shuddered and tightened on him. “Ah, Renata, si, that’s it.” He was relentless in his ravishing, the headboard knocking the wall with his thrusts. Her hair stuck to the nape of her neck as he sucked on her earlobe. She started to shake and gasp, wanting to pull away from his intensity but loving it at the same time.
He reached between her thighs to massage her hard, swollen clit and that was it for her. She arched backward, resting her head on his shoulder as he ruthlessly dragged her to amazing peaks of pleasure. His arm tightened over her breasts and he nipped at her neck while she screamed his name. He followed her over the edge, coming so hard she thought they’d break the bed.
He moaned in her ear, and she twisted to look at him and he captured her mouth with his, plunging his tongue deep between her lips, mimicking his cock below. He gave one last shudder and wrenched his mouth from hers, gasping for air. “Ah…Dio mio, Renata.”
She dropped her head, amazed at the explosive, raunchy sex. A couple minutes of massage foreplay, a couple minutes of thrusting and she was purring like a kitten.
He eased from her and she gladly collapsed back onto the mattress, covering her eyes with her arm.
“Renata?” he asked cautiously, easing down next to her. “Are you all right?”
She stared up at him. “I want you to be honest with me, Giorgio.”
“Yes?” He raised a black eyebrow.
“I know this is a personal question, but we’re getting pretty personal here so I’ll ask anyway. Is sex always like this with you?”
He made kind of a choking noise but didn’t say anything.
She continued, “I mean, I figured you and I would be hot together after that limo incident, and you’ve got the biggest, best cock I’ve ever seen, but this—” she gestured to their naked, sweaty, sticky bodies “—this is past hot. It’s positively nuclear.”
“Nuclear,” he echoed. “And you say I have the biggest—” Words failed him again.
“Biggest, best, hottest, thickest cock I or any other woman in New York has ever seen. And before Parsons, I went to art school where we drew lots of naked men, so I’ve seen a bunch.”
“And you say I have the best?” He had gotten over his shock and his masculine pride was kicking in, a proud smile spreading over his face.
“Oh, please. Surely some woman already told you that.”
“Not in such detail. And since you want me to be honest, I have never been…nuclear…like this with any other woman.”
“Oh, come on,” she scoffed. “You’ve probably dated some of the most beautiful women in the world.”
He paused for a second, as if to think back. “I’ve been photographed with many beautiful women. I’ve kissed some of them, but there’s a big difference between publicity and reality. None of them have the same spark, the same joy of living that you bring to everything you do.”
“Everything?” His words thrilled her as much as his body did.
“Oh, definitely. Designing dresses, eating chili dogs, making love to me…”
He rolled her against him so they were breast-to-chest, belly-to-belly and nuclear parts-to-nuclear parts. Even after detonation, his rocket was still in launch position. “I can only give you all the credit. You, with your beautiful ivory face and thick red hair like a beautiful Renaissance painting by Titian. And your ripe, lush body.” He skimmed his hand over her curves. “You have a body made for pleasure. And I am incredibly flattered you would share it with me. There has not been any woman like you before.” He kissed her again, this time softly and sweetly.
“Wow,” she said weakly after the kiss had ended. “Do they teach you all that poetic stuff in prince school?”
“No, I find that you are quite the inspiration.” He kissed the tip of her nose and pushed up out of bed. “Stay there. Our coffee may still be warm.” He grabbed his clothes and hurried into the bathroom. Renata wrapped the sheets around her again. No sense in tempting fate with nudity and hot coffee.
He quickly reappeared in the same casual outfit and brought the tray over to the bed. “Un caffe latte per la Signorina.” He carefully took the lid off the to-go cup and she sipped at the coffee.
“Yep, you’re right—still warm.”
“And a fresh almond pastry.” He handed her a soft square sprinkled with toasted almonds and drizzled with white sugar glazing.
“Mmm, delicious.” Crumbs flaked off the pastry. “Look, I’m making a mess of the bed.”
Giorgio grinned, and Renata took a good look at the bed. Pastry crumbs were the least of it. One pillow was in the hallway, the top sheet was wrapped around her like a toga, and the bottom sheet had been totally wrenched free by their frantic couplings. Even the headboard stood in danger of bashing a hole in the wall. Short of dumping the coffee over the bedding, it was a total wreck.
He cleared his throat delicately. “Did I mention maid service comes with the villa rental?”
“Good thing.” She raised her cup in a toast and they ate a surprisingly companionable breakfast among the cheerful mess. Giorgio was turning out to be lots of fun, and not just in bed. This was going to be a great vacation.
And after? The unwelcome thought popped up. Well, Giorgio would need to come to New York sometime, and maybe she would see him then. A friends-with-benefits thing?
Renata must have grimaced because Giorgio asked if she wanted more sugar in her coffee.
She decided to enjoy the moment and stop worrying about the future. “No, it’s perfect. Everything is just perfect.”
RENATA SMILED AT HER reflection in the compact bath room. Although it had obviously been added after the original construction of the ancient house, it managed to hold all the necessities, plus the ubiquitous European bidet. She stared down at that white porcelain fixture. She’d never tried one before and the sunny Italian Riviera would freeze over before she asked Giorgio how to use it.
Bidets aside, the shower had actually had pretty good water pressure, which was necessary to repair the red wreckage of her hair. She ran a brush through her hair and pulled it into a twist, fastening it with a black lacquer clip.
She slipped on a V-neck sapphire silk blouse and a black circle skirt that poufed around her knees thanks to a hidden tulle crinoline. Both were amazingly wrinkle-free despite how she’d seen the baggage handlers treat her luggage.
A matching small sapphire stud went into the side of her nose. She owned an assortment of different studs except for ruby—no sense in looking like she had an acne break-out. Red lips to match her nails completed the look, and she smacked them to set the color. Dressy, but casual enough for a seaside dinner at a local restaurant.
She stopped briefly to grab her pashmina wrap out of the closet, not sure how cool the breeze became, and then swanned out of the bedroom into the living room.
Giorgio was standing in front of one of the tall, narrow windows that lined the living room at the front of the apartment. The sun had set a few minutes ago, and twilight illuminated his profile as he looked out over the sea. His strong but straight nose, his full lips and determined chin. He was so beautiful she felt a painful thump in her chest. But he was hers, at least for now.
Giorgio turned as she approached. Hopefully the dim light hid her face as she mooned over him. “There you are, Renata.”