her body recognised him. Was uniquely tuned to him. Responded to him like no one else. Responded to him with honesty, with naturalness, with enthusiasm and zero self-consciousness.
He slipped a hand between their bodies, caressing her clitoris in soft little teasing strokes that triggered a tumultuous release that reverberated throughout her body, shaking it like the tremors of a powerful earthquake. So intense was her release she momentarily lost all sense of time and space. She was limbless, floating in a languid sea of contentment….
He kept thrusting, working himself to his own release, and taking her along for the ride. She clung to him as his pace quickened, her body tingling at the way his was so thick and tight within hers. She felt the tension building in him, in the strongly defined muscles of his back and shoulders, in his thighs where they were entwined so erotically with her own.
He drew in a breath and let it out in a shuddering whoosh as he emptied himself, the quaking of his body sending aftershocks of pleasure through hers.
Lottie waited for the moment of awkwardness. The messy business of the condom. The furtive scramble for clothes. The regret. The I-shouldn’t-have-had-sex-with-you moment that always felt like a blot on her conscience.
It didn’t happen.
Instead Lucca brushed a tendril of hair back off her face with a touch as gentle as the sweep of a feather. His expression was not arrogant, proud or smugly satisfied. It was contemplative … thoughtful, searching. ‘I didn’t hurt you?’
‘No …’ She touched a fingertip to the small frown that had appeared between his brows, smoothing it like one would do a knotted muscle. ‘It was wonderful. You were wonderful.’
He captured her finger and kissed its tip, his eyes holding hers. ‘We were wonderful.’
Lottie wasn’t naive enough to think he’d found sleeping with her anything out of the ordinary. She had both of her feet firmly planted on the concrete-solid ground of reality. But it was hard to stop a tiny segment of her heart from hoping he had found something different about their union. Not just her lack of experience, but her response to him and his to her. Had he felt that powerful surge of sensation through his flesh with every partner he’d ever had? Had he felt the world spin out of control in that senses-spinning moment when no thought could anchor itself?
Had he wondered if one night could turn into many nights?
No.
She put on a breezy smile. ‘At least in future I won’t have to pretend. My future lovers will be eternally grateful to you for sorting that out for me.’
He eased away from her, dealing with the condom with what seemed unnecessary attention to detail. ‘I thought the goal for royally born girls like you was finding a suitable man to marry, not go shopping for multiple lovers.’
Lottie rolled onto her stomach and propped her chin on her crossed-over hands. ‘I think it’d be wise for me to try before I buy. Get a feel for what I like in a lover. Get a little more experience. Experiment a bit.’
It was a long moment before he turned to glance at her over his shoulder. She wondered if he had paused long enough to assemble his features into an indifferent expression. ‘Go for it.’
She idly kicked her lower legs up and down. ‘Maybe you could suggest someone for me. That guy who owned the nightclub seemed—’
‘No.’ The word was delivered flatly. Implacably. He got up from the bed, snatched his trousers from the floor, stepping into them with what looked like controlled violence.
‘What’s the matter?’
He picked up his shirt but instead of putting it on he scrunched it in one hand as if it were nothing but yesterday’s newspaper. ‘Listen to yourself. One orgasm and you’re suddenly ready to open your legs for anyone who shows the remotest bit of interest in you?’
‘It wasn’t one orgasm. It was two.’
He made a sound halfway between a laugh and a muttered curse as he sent his hand through his hair. ‘I knew this was going to be a mistake.’
Lottie got off the bed and used the sheet as a wrap around her nakedness. ‘I don’t know what the fuss is all about. I’ve a perfect right to express myself sexually with whomever I want. You’ve had loads of lovers. I’ve only had two.’ She freed her hair from behind the makeshift collar of the sheet. ‘I want to make up for all the time I’ve lost. I’m twenty-three years old and I’ve only had two orgasms, apart from the ones I—well, let’s not go into that. It’s not the same thing. It’s much nicer with a partner.’
‘Make it up with me.’
She looked at him blankly for a moment.
‘What?’
‘Make the time up with me.’ He tossed his balled-up shirt to the wing chair, not even noticing it hit the floor instead. ‘Have a relationship with me. Just till your sister’s wedding is done and dusted.’
‘Did you just say “relationship”?’
‘Fling.’ A muscle ticked in his jaw. ‘I meant a fling.’
She pretended to take her time thinking about it, tapping at her lips with two fingertips. ‘I don’t know … seems pretty risky to me.’
‘Risky?’ A frown beetled his brows. ‘How?’
‘There are a lot of perks to partnering a princess. As social climbing goes you don’t get to go much higher.’
His chin jerked backwards. ‘Social climbing?’ He let out a swear word in Italian. ‘You think that’s what this is about?’
She gave him her best arch look. ‘What else could it be about?’
He took her by the shoulders in a grip that was undergirded by steel. ‘I’ll show you,’ he said, and crushed his mouth to hers.
Lucca opened his eyes after a long deep sleep and realised he was still in Lottie’s bed. She was snuggled up next to him, her cheek resting on his chest, her hair in a sexily mussed-up tangle on the pillow. Her right hand was lying just above his groin. He could already feel the stirring of his blood at the thought of that dainty little hand going lower.
He had never spent the night in anyone’s bed but his own. He had never spent the night with anyone, period. But here it was close to 6:00 a.m. and he wanted to drive himself into her hot wet centre and forget about everything but the lust that consumed him when he was with her.
For that’s all it was—lust.
He had a strong sex drive. He hadn’t had more than a day or two of celibacy since he was a teenager. Which was why this set-up was acceptable for him right now. Even more acceptable since he’d received that email from his father’s CEO the day before. He’d almost talked himself into believing that’s why he had offered Lottie a fling till the end of the month. Almost. The anticipated drop in hotel bookings due to the quarantine imposed in Monte Carlo hadn’t occurred elsewhere as expected. Apparently the news of his involvement with Princess Charlotte of Preitalle had precipitated an upswing of bookings in Chatsfield Hotels across the globe, unmatched by any advertising campaign ever conducted before. The romantic mix of prim-and-proper
