Temporarily His Princess (Married by Royal Decree 1)

Now, this new him was just plain…fun.

Fun? The man who was more or less kidnapping her and making her marry him temporarily under terrible conditions and for all the wrong reasons while seducing her out of her mind just because he could?

Yeah. He was doing all that. And was still fun with a capital F. It made everything she felt for him even fiercer.

Had she caught his masochistic tendencies? Or maybe she was developing Stockholm syndrome after all?

Again unaware of her turmoil, he pursued their latest topic. “In the interest of not turning to dust if you fling something my way while you attempt to crack open the crab…” He took the fork from her, gathered the rest of her cutlery and placed them on the tray of a retreating waiter.

Admitting that there was no denying, or fighting, the enjoyment, she decided to go with the flow. As he’d recommended earlier, in what felt like another life.

She eyed him in derision. “You could have left me the spoon. It poses minimal danger, certainly a lesser one than the mess I’ll make as I slurp soup directly from the bowl and wipe sauce off the plate with my fingers.”

“Mess away.” Another button had his chair circling the table, bringing him a breath away. “I’ll lick you clean.”

Leaving her struggling with another bout of arrhythmia, he leaned across her then lifted silver covers bearing Castaldini’s royal insignia in repoussé, uncovering serving plates and bowls simmering over gentle flames. Her salivary glands gushed with the combination of aromas—his and the food’s. He filled a bowl with heavenly smelling soup, garnishing it with dill and croutons. Then he reached across the table for his spoon.

Dipping it in the steaming depths, he scooped a spoonful then brought it to his lips. Pursing them slowly, sensuously, he blew a cooling breath over the thick creaminess. It rippled, just like the waves of arousal inside her.

Her nerves reverberated like plucked strings as he drew her to his side, no longer knowing if she felt her heart or his booming inside her rib cage. Then he lifted the spoon to her lips. They opened involuntarily, accepting his offering. She gulped down the delicious, rich liquid, moaning at the taste, at his ministrations. Vincenzo was feeding her.

Then he was kissing her, plumbing her depths with wrenching possession, as if he’d drink her up, gulping down her moans as they poured from her, growling the fervor of his endearments and enjoyment inside her. “Meravigliosa, deliziosa…”

Her stomach made another explicit protest.

He pulled back, his eyes on fire, his smile teasing. “So the flesh is willing, but the stomach is even more so. Will you stop looking so delicious so I can feed you?”

Unable to do anything but keep her head against his shoulder and her body ensconced in the security and delight of his, she sighed. “So, it’s my doing now?”

“Everything is your doing, gloriosa mia. Everything.”

For all the indulgence in which he’d said that, it confused her. For it didn’t feel like a joke. Yet all she could do was surrender to his pampering and marvel at what a difference a few hours could make. She’d started this bent on resisting to the end. Now look at her. Her mind was shutting down, her will raising the white flag. And why not?

This, whatever this was, wouldn’t last. But she knew that this time. She’d been forewarned, should be forearmed against any pain and disillusion. And it felt so good. The best she’d ever felt. Why not just revel in it?

Even at the cost of untold damages later? Maybe it couldn’t be survived this time?

She gazed into his gorgeous eyes, let his spell topple the last pillar of her sanity, and had to face what she’d never wanted to admit. She’d missed him like she would a vital organ. The accumulated longing was only exacerbated by the new appreciation that was taking her over.

So yes. She’d take this journey with him. At any cost.

*

“We’ll be landing in minutes, Principe.”

The announcement made Glory do a triple take over Vincenzo’s shoulder at the wall clock in the distance.

It was nine hours since they’d come on board already?

Time had never flown so imperceptibly. So pleasurably. She hadn’t felt sleepy all through the flight, only deliciously languorous yet energized at once, each passing minute electrified, alive.

And here they were. Landing in a place she’d never been, and till forty-eight hours ago had thought, for too many reasons, she’d never be. His homeland. A land of vivid legend and unique tradition.

Castaldini.

She’d been so engrossed in Vincenzo and their newfound affinity she hadn’t once looked outside the window as the pilot had periodically announced the landmarks they were flying over. She was now draped half over Vincenzo, one leg held in a possessive hand over his thighs, her face inches from his as they lay back on a now-reclined couch, gazing at each other, luxuriating in chatting and bickering and just relishing the hell out of each other.

Giving her thigh a gentle squeeze, he leaned in for another of those barely leashed kisses that had been scrambling her coherence, then withdrew with a regretful sigh. “Though I think some fuses inside me will burn out when I do, I have to take my hands off you. You need to see this. Castaldini from the air is breathtaking.”

He untangled them and took her with him as he sat up, opening the shutter on the window behind them. He stood behind her as she rose to her knees and bent forward to peer down at his homeland. But she registered nothing but him as he pressed against her, one hand pulling her back into his hardness, the other moving the mass of her hair aside to caress her back and buttocks. All she wanted was to thrust back at him, beg him to end the torment that had been building for hours, years, plunge inside her as she knelt like that, vulnerable, open. She wished he would plummet them into delirium as they descended into his domain and the limited time they’d have together.

He bent over her until he was covering her back then suckled her earlobe, pouring his seduction right into her brain. “See this, gloriosa mia? This is where I’m going to make you mine again, this land that’s as glorious as you are.”

Everything inside her throbbed like an inflamed nerve, screaming for his invasion, his domination. “So you took your hands off me, only to substitute them with your whole body.”

“Don’t tell me, tell your body.” His hand twisted in her hair, harnessing her as he suckled her neck, thrust against her, mimicking the act of possession. “It’s operating mine remotely. It must want to keep my fuses intact, needs them fully functional.” She was way past contesting this. With the way she’d been responding to his every touch, inviting more, she wondered how he hadn’t taken her yet. Or why. He nipped her jaw, which sent another shock wave of need spasming in her core. “Now look.”