The Prince's Chambermaid

He lifted his head and brushed his mouth against hers. ‘You will forgive me if I leave you for a moment?’

Cathy froze as the erotic bubble in which she had been losing herself suddenly evaporated. ‘Leave me?’ she echoed.

Xaviero’s lips curved into a satisfied smile. Did they not say that low-born women made the very best of all lovers—with their unaffected passion and disregard for the convention that a woman must never be too enthusiastic if she wanted to snare a man? He began to trail his finger over her skin and felt her shiver in response. Because she would surely be aware that nothing permanent could ever come from such a liaison. Unlike the socially ambitious beauties of his past, this voluptuous little chambermaid would have no expectations of a future with him. And how liberating was that?

‘Just while I undress,’ he qualified, one lazy fingertip skating irresistibly to circle the heavy warmth of her breast. ‘I want to feel my skin next to your skin.’

‘Oh,’ she said softly. Cathy’s cheeks flamed with pleasure, revelling in how those simple words could thrill her so—her lingering doubts banished by the glorious reality of what was happening. ‘What a lovely thing to say.’

‘Well, then.’ Reluctantly he moved away from her pink and white body and stood up. She was so sweet—too sweet really. He couldn’t remember a woman ever being quite so straightforward. Quickly, he stood up, kicked off his shoes and socks and shrugged off his jacket—seeing the aquamarine eyes watching his every move, making no attempt to hide her expression of enjoyment. ‘You want me to perform a slow striptease for you?’ he questioned unsteadily. ‘Is that the kind of thing which turns you on?’

Her cheeks suddenly grew pink again. Perform? Have the Prince slowly remove his clothes and perhaps have second thoughts about what was about to happen? What she wanted to happen. And would happen, she thought fiercely—because she had never felt like this before. Never imagined that this kind of expectant joy could ever exist—and it had banished all her normal shyness. Why, she was lying on one of the hotel beds, wearing nothing but a pair of panties, and she didn’t even care!

She swallowed as she watched the Prince unbuttoning his shirt and revealing a broad bare chest. Up until now she had lived her life as she’d been taught—and where had it got her? Precisely nowhere. And yet she had never felt for Peter what she felt for the Prince. As if she would die if he did not quickly come over here and kiss her again.

Firmly, she pushed her conscience away—losing herself instead in the molten gold of his eyes as he pulled off his tie and let it drop to the floor, where it lay coiled like a silken serpent. She shook her head in reply to his question. ‘No,’ she said. ‘I don’t want any kind of show. I…I just…want you here again.’

‘Then you shall have me,’ he promised softly. ‘Just as soon as I get rid of these…’ His hand moved to his belt and then gingerly he slid the zip of his trousers down over his aching hardness. And then, after removing something which glinted silver in the light—something which he put down on the bedside table—he stepped out of his trousers. And his boxer shorts…

Cathy gasped and he smiled.

‘So big, mmm?’ he questioned with soft satisfaction as he climbed back onto the bed beside her and guided her hands between his legs.

Even though Cathy baulked at such intimacy, she wanted to please him—and after that initial touch she did not feel in the least bit shy. On the contrary, she was longing to know him and to explore him. To acquaint herself with every centimetre of his glowing olive flesh. Eagerly, her fingers tiptoed over the taut silken length—but he jerked away as if she’d scalded him.

‘No,’ he said fiercely, and caught hold of her hand, pressing his lips against her wrist and feeling the wild fluttering of her pulse. ‘Not yet. Not the first time.’

She wasn’t sure what he meant, but by then he had moved over her and begun to kiss her—melting away all her questions—dissolving everything except pure passion with the power of his kiss. It was…it was the most wonderful thing which had ever happened to her—as if she hadn’t lived properly until that moment.

‘Oh,’ she moaned, her body moving restlessly beneath his as she silently communicated her growing desire.

Xaviero reached down to test her honeyed warmth, feeling her buck beneath his fingers—thinking how passionate she was. Usually, he liked to run through an entire repertoire of his considerable sensual skills—something which completely captivated all his lovers. Women thought him unselfish, and in many ways he was—although he was always accused of holding back emotionally. But he was aware that giving them so much pleasure was also a kind of sexual boast—an innate need to surpass every other man that they might have known. For wasn’t it the curse of the younger royal son to always feel the need to prove himself, in every sphere?