Margaret Way - By Royal Decree - Royally Romanced

After slugging back a full bottle, she stretched out on the long sofa and covered herself with her travel wrap, a giant pashmina-lookalike shawl she’d spotted at a Brooklyn resale shop. Get the sleep stuff out of the way so they could move directly to the bed part.

It felt as if she had just dozed off when she heard Paolo’s voice rumble through the salon. “Signorina Renata? We are here.” They had stopped at another dock. Paolo helped her off the boat. “Only a little more.” He took off up the hill past several square-looking buildings fastened somehow into a very steep cliff. Well, they hadn’t fallen into the sea yet. Glad she had worn sensible shoes for once, Renata followed him to a three-story house a few blocks from the ocean. Paolo showed her a narrow set of stone steps leading to a dark wooden door. “Up the steps, signorina.”

Renata gripped the handrail as she climbed the stairs. Butterflies hatched in her stomach. What if things had changed between them since their last meeting? Did he still feel the same heat, the same longing she’d fought to keep in check?

Giorgio appeared at the top. She climbed faster but he couldn’t wait and clattered down to meet her. “Renata mia.” My Renata.

He pulled her into his arms and firmly dispelled her worries with his kiss. Her neck was cricked up and the handrail poked her in the butt, but who cared? She grabbed his nape and ground her mouth into his. She eagerly accepted his tongue and sucked him deep.

He groaned and dragged her up the rest of the stairs, kicking the door shut behind him. She kept her mouth locked on his and dropped her purse and tote bag on the floor. His shirt was the next to fall as she shoved it off his shoulders, followed by her cropped travel cardigan and wrinkle-resistant linen-look blouse.

Giorgio paused for a second to gaze reverently at her breasts, this time wearing a white satin bra trimmed with matching lace. He didn’t say anything, but his eyes darkened to jade and his pupils dilated. As if breaking a trance, he leaped back into action and fumbled with the snap to her capri pants, stripping them down her legs in such haste he took her bikini panties with them—no thongs for her on an eleven-hour flight, complete with plane change in Rome.

She kicked off her white sandals and freed her legs until she stood before him in nothing but her bra. Giorgio scooped her up and carried her through a small living room down the narrow hallway leading to a medium-size bedroom. The dark wooden four-poster bed dominated the room, but there was space for a small table and a floral-upholstered chaise longue.

The matching floral bedspread was pulled back, showing snowy-white linens. He set her carefully on the cushiony mattress and stood back. She rested on her elbows, her ankles crossed. His eyes were hungry, his breathing quick.

“Renata, tu sei la donna più bella del mondo.”

That was a promising start. Being called the most beautiful woman in the world was always a plus. Not that she’d ever been called that before, especially in Giorgio’s lustfully raspy Italian voice, so different than his normally smooth tones.

“Grazie.” She sat up and unfastened her bra, letting her heavy breasts dangle freely.

Her complete nudity was too much for him and his pants and bikini briefs hit the floor. So did her jaw.

Giorgio was regally built in every sense of the word. No wonder his ancestors had held power for several hundred years, being fruitful and multiplying successive generations of princes.

He grinned at her, his physique perfect in the morning light. His broad chest was dusted with black hair that narrowed into a sexy trail down his flat belly, widening into a thick patch showcasing his impressive royal assets.

“That’s right—I forgot we did not get this far in the confines of the limo. But now I have plenty of time to make it up to you.”

“Please do.” His cock was long and thick, toasty brown with a plump head. He knelt next to her on the bed and she couldn’t help herself, wrapping her hand around his shaft. He had lovely smooth skin, hot and soft over a core of steel. She moved up and down and he groaned, tossing his head back. A silvery sheen seeped from the tip, and she spread the moisture around with her thumb.

He grabbed her wrist as if to stop her but she cupped his heavy sac with her other hand and he hissed out a sharp breath. “Renata,” he moaned, his hips jerking into her caresses.

“Giorgio,” she replied, an answering warmth between her thighs.

“Stop.” His hand closed over hers. “I have been dreaming about you for days, waking up like this. Give me a second to regain some control so I can properly make love to you.”

“This seems pretty proper to me.” She moved underneath him and let her knees fall open. “You’re not the only one with hot, nasty dreams, Giorgio.”

He shuddered with desire and quickly protected himself. No little illegitimate princes running around for them.

“Are you sure?” He moved between her legs and stared down at her, his green eyes hot but tender.

She hooked her ankles around his calves. “Absolutely.”

He glided into her as if they had been lovers for a thousand years, locking himself to her. She gasped at the feel of him—hot and thick, stretching her very core. She couldn’t help squeezing down on him and he jerked inside her. “Ah, Renata.” He began moving, almost against his will.

She arched her back and raised her hips at him. If she thought the full heft of his cock was heavenly standing still, his thrusting was amazing. Lovely pressure alternating with a sense of emptiness. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him close.

He buried his face in her neck, kissing the tender skin and murmuring to her in raw, raunchy Italian exactly how she made him feel and how he was going to make her come like she’d never come before.

Giorgio had that part right, especially when he reached between their legs and thumbed her clit. She dug her short, red nails into his shoulders and nearly bucked him off her.

He lowered more of his weight to settle on her, pinning her firmly to the bed. She was going nuts, gasping and writhing under him as his skilled fingers plucked at her as if she were a fine musical instrument. His body clung and pulled at her, his lovely olive skin glistening with sweat.

Heat roiled up from where they joined, making her shake and burn. “Giorgio.” She gasped out his name, not wanting to climax so quickly.

“Si, cara mia. Let yourself go,” he coaxed. “Let me take you where you long to be.” He hooked her legs over his shoulders and rose up on his knees. He was deep and hard, his hands free to caress her breasts and clitoris.

“Ahh…” She couldn’t help moaning as he pinched her nipples, stroked her clit, all the while pounding into her. It was brash and wild, his domination of her. She couldn’t move her hips back up at him, and to her surprise, she loved it.

His lips curved into a knowing smile. “You like this, don’t you? Oh, wicked, wicked Renata.”

She shook her head, not in denial but in her rising passion. Giorgio was relentless, plundering her body. She sucked in a deep breath as the exquisite pleasure built and shattered her, up from her belly into her breasts and out her mouth in a loud scream of ecstasy. Make that several loud screams of ecstasy. If anyone had wondered what the new guests at the villa were up to, she had thoroughly dispelled any false impressions.

He left her weak and trembling under him as he slowed his pace, lowering her legs to the bed. “More?”

She shook her head. She was absolutely wrung out. “I can’t even think.”

“Good. Just feel.” And there he went again, bending to her breasts as he took her again. His slick mouth sucked and nipped at her breasts, coaxing the throbbing peaks to a rosy pink.