The Mediterranean Prince's Passion (The Royal House of Cacciatore 1)

‘May I see them?’

She knew what he wanted her to do. She was like a puppet, being worked by a consummate master, and she crossed her arms over her chest and pulled the dress over her head, letting it tumble unnoticed onto the floor. She heard his breathing change as his eyes drank in the indentation of her waist, the way the silk skimmed her hips and the bare thighs that straddled him, then looked at her in a way that made her feel suddenly shy. But her shyness changed into feminine pride when she saw the look of fierce and possessive hunger on his face.

He leant back a little, like a man appraising a painting, and he noted the curves and shadows of her body. The skin that had been burned by the sun had now softened to a pale golden glow, providing a creamy backdrop for the underwear. He wanted both to rip it from her and yet to make love to her while she was still wearing it. But of course it was entirely possible to indulge in both fantasies…

He moved his hand down to the camiknickers, watching the pleasured darkening of her eyes as he touched her most secret place, feeling the warm, honeyed moistness through the scrap of silk and watching the way she instinctively squirmed against his fingers.

‘Nico!’ she cried out.

He wanted to tell her to unzip him, was filled with a desperate longing to have her undress him as though he was any other man. But he was not, nor ever would be, and his body was his own and always would be.

He lifted her effortlessly while he rasped the zip down and impatiently kicked off his trousers and his shoes, seeing that she was now totally in his thrall as slowly and deliberately he ripped her panties, then tossed them away. He lowered her back down towards him and Ella’s eyes snapped open. She looked down at him in alarm and confusion, prepared and yet unprepared as she felt the first naked nudge of him against her.

It had all happened so quickly—too quickly. Should it be this way? To make love on her sofa for the very first time, when they were still partially clothed? The blood was pounding in her ears and she quivered as she felt him pushing against her. ‘Don’t…don’t you want to take me to bed, Nico?’ she breathed.

There was something unworldly and innocent about the question, something that nagged and tugged at his conscience, as if he had broken some fundamental rule he had not been aware of.

God forgive him for plundering—for taking just what he wanted as if it was his due! And—dear God!—for forgetting to take any precautions! He bit back a groan of frustration and forced the overwhelming heat of desire to still for an instant as he lifted a hand to smooth back a sunset-coloured strand of hair.

‘But I do not know where the bed is!’ he bit out, in a voice made tight with tension. ‘Will you show me the way, Gabriella?’

She meant to. Which was why she tried to wriggle away from him. But the movement had entirely the wrong effect, since it positioned them so that the tip of him was now inside her, and she knew that she could not move from that spot. A delicious and unstoppable warmth began to well up within her.

His eyes narrowed. ‘Too late?’ he guessed silkily.

Oh, much too late. ‘Later,’ she breathed. ‘I’ll show you later.’

Maybe it was just the offer of propriety she required, for now she was urging him on like there was no tomorrow. Nico could barely think straight as he reached blindly for his trousers and slid on the necessary protection. His eyes transfixed by the swaying of her breasts, he drove into her with a groan, holding onto her hips so that he could go deeper still.

‘Nico!’ The cry of delight was torn from her lips.

Sweet heaven! She was like a wildcat! She began to scrabble at his shirt, tearing at the buttons and whispering his name as he moved inside her, then moaning it, over and over, as if she couldn’t say it enough times. He attempted to subdue her with deep, drugging kisses, but all they did was send his hunger spiralling out of control. And he was free to indulge it. Free as a lion. He had never felt this free before. Unknown and free. Just Nico.

Still lost in the rhythm, he touched her breast, feeling the nipple pucker and harden beneath his fingers and a fierce dart of pleasure threatened to take him under.

‘Gabriella.’

He said her name on a shudder of broken wonder that was almost a plea, and Ella opened her eyes to stare deep into his, to see straight into his soul, into the very essence of the man himself—and that was when the pleasure engulfed her.

‘Oh,’ she cried softly. ‘Oh. Oh. Oh!’

He felt himself follow her, drowning in w

ave upon wave of sensation, rocked and silenced by it, holding her closely, almost reverentially, until after the storm had subsided.

The muffled beat of his heart pounded a primitive rhythm and Ella lay, dazed and satiated, as she felt the steady rise and fall of his chest. It took her a few minutes to realise that he had fallen asleep, and she was glad of the moment of respite, shocked by the depth of her response to him.

She had never been so uninhibited—never, ever, ever. Absently, she dropped a kiss on the warm silken skin of his shoulder, and as he stirred lazily she turned her head slightly. The last of the setting sun’s rays spilled in through the French doors, spotlighting them like two dancers as they lay sprawled and still intimately locked together on her sofa.

With an inbreath of horror she bit down on her lip, realising that she hadn’t given a thought to privacy—not a thought—and that it didn’t get dark until gone ten!

Why, anyone might have seen them! She might discourage casual callers, but that didn’t mean they didn’t come visiting. Oh, Lord. Ella felt the flush of guilt creep up to tinge her already rosy cheeks and shook Nico gently. But she couldn’t resist running her fingertips over the smooth surface of his skin. He felt like silk to touch.

‘Nico!’ she urged softly. ‘Nico! Wake up!’

Nico stirred. It was warm here, and…peaceful…yes…utterly peaceful. And that beautiful featherlight stroking. Total relaxation was such a rare and precious state for him, and he sighed and drifted back towards sleep. He didn’t want to leave this place. He shook his head. ‘Non!’

‘Nico! Wake up! You must!’