Royally Claimed (8 page)

She shivered at both his exquisite torture and his endearment. “Love it.”

He tongued the hollow behind her ear. “Then let's keep going.” He pinched her nipple, and she was powerless to resist.

“Keep going.”

He sat back against the couch and moved her rubbery legs so she straddled his muscular thigh. She settled onto him and gasped at the pressure against her clit. Without meaning to, she began grinding on him as he played with her breasts.

“Oh, yes, that's it,” he crooned. “Poor Julia, you've missed my touch, haven't you?”

She nodded.

“My hands, my cock, my mouth?” He leaned forward and imprisoned a nipple deep in his mouth and she screamed in pleasure. He was hot and wet as he sucked on her, stroking her with his tongue and even biting her gently.

She tried to undo her pants but he easily caught her hands and held them behind her back. “Not yet. I want to make you come like this.”

“But Frank,” she whimpered. “Don't you want to come inside me?” It was a rhetorical question since his sweatpants were about to pull apart at the seams.

He gave a strained laugh. “When I push inside you, I want you so hot, so ready that you'll come as fast as I will. Now lean forward so I can suck on your juicy tits.”

Her clit quivered at his sexy words. Even as a younger man, he'd enjoyed talking dirty to her and telling her in explicit detail what he was going to do to her and what she could do to him. It had always turned her on and tonight was no exception.

She surrendered and pressed her body into his. He immediately mouthed her other breast, but forgot something. “Frank?”

“Mmm.” The suction was exquisite, hard enough to drive her crazy but not painful.

“Ah…my arms are still behind my back.”

He let go. “Am I hurting you?”

“No, but…”

“You don't like the lack of control.” He was too perceptive for his own good.

She shook her head.

“But, Julia, if I let go, you might start playing with your breasts, running your hands down to your wet little pussy to ease its ache,” he explained matter-of-factly. “You are
my
guest on
my
island and I plan to do
everything
for you tonight. All night long.”

“You brute,” she said weakly, little shudders of desire rising from listening to him.

“I am. And we are alone in the middle of a storm where nothing but the wind will hear your screams of pleasure.”

Hypnotized, she leaned forward, offering herself to him. He easily encircled her wrists with one hand and cupped the other breast. “Such soft skin,” he murmured.
“Like silk. Like cream.” He leaned forward and blew on her, raising goosebumps as he cooled her overheated flesh. She groaned.

“Don't you like this, darling?”

“Too much.”

“It's never too much. It has never been enough, has it?”

Julia shook her head. Somehow, he still knew what she wanted, even when she didn't realize it herself.

He kissed along her collarbone. “I think you like your arms pinned behind your back. I think you like your breasts pushed out for me to touch.” His strong fingers stroked and teased her skin, circling around but not touching the peaks. “For me to kiss.” He bent his black head and kissed each nipple delicately. “For me to make love.” He rolled a tip between his fingers.

She couldn't help herself and started riding his thigh again. “That's it, Julia.” He pinched her a bit harder. “Use me for your pleasure. You've needed this for a long time.” He sucked her other nipple and then blew on it. “Needed
me
for a long time.”

She ground her hips hard into him, stunned at herself. Topless, riding his thigh with several layers of clothing with her hands trapped. Offering herself up to him totally.

It was his voice. His dark, sherry-accented voice luring her into his sensual intoxication. She was drunk with lust—no other explanation.

“Ride me, Julia. I can feel your hot, wet center burning me.” He sucked on her nipples after that, biting, teasing her until she bucked on him, her head tossed back.

Dizziness spiraled around her, twisting up from her
pulsing clit to where their hands were locked together to where his mouth tormented her throbbing breasts. They were a whirlwind together, more powerful than the storm outside. She closed her eyes and let her climax sweep her away on a wave of intense pleasure. She dimly realized she was screaming his name into the storm, reveling in his possession of her.

After an eternity, she felt him release her arms and he lowered her to their nest of blankets. He pulled the rest of their clothing off and settled between her legs.

Her eyes flew open. “But what about protection?” Thank goodness she had remembered at literally the last minute.

He guided her hand down to his rock-hard cock, sheathed in latex. “Already taken care of.” He nudged her thighs wider. “Take me inside you, Julia. I die for you.”

She gladly accepted him, and they groaned simultaneously. Oh, my God, he was still built like a bull, even thicker and longer than she remembered. The walls of her passage eagerly squeezed him, and he began to move.

“So hot and tight,” he gasped.

She dug her fingers into his shoulders and wrapped her thighs around his waist, not letting for an instant. “Do me hard, Franco.”

He threw his head back in shock and stared down at her. She had never been the one to talk dirty, but judging by how he swelled and jumped within her, he liked it. “You want me to do what?” His voice was hoarse with desire.

Ah, he wanted her to say it again. “I want you to
do me hard, Franco. Now and all night, until I drain you dry.”

He started slamming into her. “What else?”

She had to stop and think for a second. His luscious cock was heating her up again, especially when he slipped his hand between them and teased her clit. What else would she like him to do? Everything. Anything. One fantasy came to mind. “I want you to lick me.”

“Where? Here?” He licked her neck. “Or here?” He licked her breast. “Or here?” He slowly pulled out of her, teasing her opening with his blunt tip and laughed as she clutched at him. “Oh, yes,
there
.”

“Yes, there.”

“Tell me, Julia. You want me to lick you where? You know my little secret now, that I like to hear you tell me naughty things. Be a naughty girl and tell me.”

Her face was burning hot but he probably couldn't tell that in the firelight. “I want you to lick my pussy.”

“Oh, I will.” His promise was so heartfelt, she forgot her embarrassment. “I'll sit you in a chair and spread your soft thighs, kneel in front of you like a servant and sing your praises with my mouth.”

“Oh, yes…” She arched under him and he stroked her tight little nub again and again, stretching her and filling her. His bronzed skin glistened in the firelight, his head tossed back in passion.

“Tell me you're close,” he ground out. She nodded, gasping at his fat tip and thick shaft twisting inside her. Her insides were on fire, pulsing and trembling with his every stroke. He pinched her clit hard and she screamed in pleasure, shaking and falling apart underneath him.

He exploded into her, a hoarse cry spilling from his
lips. His frantic thrusts spurred her into another climax, her breath catching in her throat as she saw stars. He collapsed on top of her and they lay locked together, shuddering from orgasmic aftershocks.

He rolled to his side after a minute and took her with him, his cock still full and juicy inside her. “Oh, Julia, that was amazing.”

Lying draped over him, she had to agree. “It's still early. We have plenty of time tonight.”

He kissed her gently. “Why only tonight? Why not longer?”

She thought for a second. She didn't have any plans, and she was alone in the islands with no one to fuss at her. “What did you have in mind?”

“This.” He brushed his fingertip over her clit and she shuddered in lust. “And more. Stay with me. I'll work on the renovations, you can sunbathe in the nude. I can watch you sunbathe, forget the renovations and make love to you next to the pool. Or on the beach. Or in the house. In a chair,” he said with a devilish grin, reminding her of her fantasy. “Anything you want. And I mean
anything
.”

“Anything?” That sounded slightly scary but delicious.

“Whenever you want. Or whenever I want,” he added. “You and I, we are fantastic together. When will life again give us this opportunity?”

He had a good point. Life was so unpredictable.

“Wouldn't you like, just for once, to be a total hedonist? We eat what we want, we drink what we want. If we want to be naked all day, who cares? We can swim naked, lie in the sun, drink wine and make love to each other. Hell, do all of that at the same time.”

“All right,” she said slowly. “It sounds wonderful, but what about the end of our hedonism?”

He shrugged with a Mediterranean fatalism. “We see what happens then.
Carpe diem
as my Roman ancestors used to say. ‘Seize the day.'”

“Seize the day.” How many days had slipped away while she was slogging through her gray life in Boston? Over four thousand. What was a week or ten days if she could live them like this? “Yes, Frank, I'll stay with you here. But if either one of us has had enough, that's it.”

“Of course. Along with oppressing peasants, we gave up kidnapping beautiful maidens a long time ago.” He kissed her again. “You can go back whenever you want. But I hope not too soon.”

“You've got a deal.” She kissed him back, having the conflicting feelings of both coming home and standing at the edge of a precipice.

T
HE NEXT MORNING DAWNED
bright and sunny. Julia yawned and stretched in their nest of blankets. Frank was nowhere to be seen, but she figured he was probably outside checking any storm damage. He was such a creature of the outdoors, unhappy if cooped up for too long inside. Unless, of course, he was distracted by something more interesting.

She sat up and giggled, giddy as a teenager with her first crush, but satisfied as only an adult woman could be. She rolled her neck and tentatively touched her hair, amazed to find that although messy, it wasn't wildly frizzy. Good grief, what did those women put in it? She didn't know whether to be pleased or worry that she would need the hair equivalent of paint stripper to wash the product out.

Ah, well, too nice a day to worry about hair gel. She needed to find something to wear so she could cook up a big breakfast for Frank. He'd be hungry.

She found her top but not her bra, her pants but not her underwear. A theme. She wrapped up in a sheet and headed for the bathroom with her available clothing.
If Frank was serious about having her stay, she'd need to make a trip back to her parents' apartment for more things. And she'd need to call them so they wouldn't worry about her disappearing for several days.

Julia grimaced. It had been a long time since she'd needed to check in with her parents, but they deserved the courtesy of knowing where she was. They worried a bit more than they used to. She'd make it sound as if there were a bunch of people working at the villa and she was doing it to keep from dying of boredom rather than dying of lust.

She hopped in the upstairs shower for a quick wash but was in the kitchen a few minutes later chopping up Portuguese sausage, onions, chives, peppers and tomatoes. She heated some olive oil in a skillet and tossed the mix in to start cooking down. The day-old crusty bread was perfect for French toast, so she beat a bunch of eggs, added cinnamon and a spoonful of sugar so the bread would brown nicely.

She soaked the bread in the egg mix and began frying the slices. The vegetable mix went into a yellow ceramic bowl. She wanted to wait for Frank to cook the omelets, since reheated eggs were terrible.

Almost forgot the coffee.
It was perking along nicely when Frank came in a couple minutes later. He sniffed the air appreciatively. “What is that amazing smell?” He was amazing himself in a plain black T-shirt, khaki work pants and heavy workboots, which he toed off and left at the doormat. The T-shirt outlined all his chest muscles and he looked like a sexy, brawny construction worker.

“Coffee, French toast and I'll make you an omelet
if you'd like.” It was so cozy and domestic that she couldn't stop grinning.

“Julia, you are a wonder.” He caught her around the waist and kissed her. “Good morning, my darling.”

She felt herself blush. “Good morning, honey.” She hadn't used an endearment with anyone in years and it sounded stilted on her tongue, but he didn't notice and beamed at her.

“Oh, the French toast!” She rescued it just in time to flip and he poured them both a cup of coffee. “How did the island do with the storm?”

“Eh, we didn't do too badly.” She thought it was cute how he referred to himself and the island as a pair. “Some branches down, a door blown off a garden shed, but I got the electricity going again.”

“Isn't that dangerous?”

He shrugged. “I've done it many times. No big deal.”

He'd think it was a big deal if he got shocked, but try telling him that now. She shook her head and pulled the French toast off, popping it into the oven to keep warm. “Ready for an omelet?”

“Always.” He grinned at her and raised his cup of coffee in a toast.

A couple minutes later, they were sitting at the center island eating breakfast together. Maple syrup wasn't a staple in Portuguese houses, so they used local honey and jam for the French toast instead. “I really like pineapple jam on this,” she told him, cutting a bite.

He grabbed her wrist and ate the bread off her fork. “I agree.”

She shook her head in amusement and cut another piece. “Eat your own food. Didn't I make enough?”

“It tastes better coming from you.” His big brown eyes melted her heart.

She sliced a bit of omelet and offered it to him. “Delicious,” he said, after chewing and swallowing. “Here.” He gave her some French toast with orange marmalade and honey. The tartness and sweetness mixed perfectly.

They fed each other the rest of breakfast. Julia dabbed at the corner of his mouth with her napkin. “You have honey here.”

“So do you.”

“I do?” She touched her mouth.

“Pure honey. But not from the jar.” He moved her hand away and kissed her.

He cleared the dishes into the sink with a rattle and set her on the wood table. “All throughout breakfast, I've been watching your breasts sway, your dark nipples hardening against the fabric when you fed me.” He slid his hand up her blouse and smiled when he found her bare breast. “Naughty Julia, where is your bra?”

She gestured helplessly at the tumbled blankets on the floor. “I couldn't find it.”

“I'm not complaining.” He unbuttoned her blouse and pushed it off her shoulders.

She automatically covered herself, not being used to daytime nudity. He made a chiding sound and pulled her arms away. “You're equally beautiful in the sun as the firelight.” He rested his cheek against her heart. His hair was warm and silky on her skin. Her arms came around him and she twined a black wave around her finger. He smelled of wind and water and his own unmistakable spicy scent.

“Oh, Julia.” He turned his face and kissed her breast. “Let me please you.”

“You already do,” she murmured. She felt him smile against her skin.

“A few years ago, I found several personal diaries of the previous Dukes of Santas Aguas. They discovered rather interesting ways to pass the time when they visited this island.”

“They took up tennis?” she quipped.

He laughed. “More of an indoor activity. They would sail to São Miguel and find the prettiest young women on the island, then bring them back to Belas Aguas.”

“To cook and clean?”

“To do whatever the Duke wanted.”

He wasn't joking—she could tell this was a true story. “And they went along with this?”

Frank grinned. “It was considered an honor to have the attention of the Duke and he would send them back with a hefty dowry. The happier the girls made him, the bigger the dowry.” He winked.

“What if the Duke didn't make
them
happy?”

“Oh, that was never an issue.” He kissed her soft belly. “The young ladies were always very pleased with the Duke's particular skills.” He circled his tongue around her belly button.

“But they couldn't go home.” Her heart was pounding like crazy as he unbuttoned her denim pants.

He raised both eyebrows. “Did they want to? Back to washing and cooking and cleaning when they could be doing this?”

Julia automatically lifted her hips as he slid the capris off. The wood was surprisingly warm against her bare bottom.

He stroked a finger around her clit. “Do you want to go home? Shall I take you back?”

“No.” She affected a disappointed sigh despite how his finger was driving her crazy. “Since you can't offer me a dowry, I suppose I can accept other means of exchange.”

“I am grateful for your understanding. Perhaps I can make it up to you.”

He stopped for a second and she opened her eyes in dismay. Her stare widened as he lifted the pot of honey. “Frank, what are you doing?”

“I am going to eat you up.” He lifted the wooden spoon from the pot and drizzled the sticky liquid over her breasts. It was cool at first but quickly warmed and spread.

“Ooh, messy!”

He laughed. “By the time I'm done, you won't care.” He dipped the spoon again and drew honey lines across her belly.

She lifted her head. “Is that an
F?
”

“
F
for
Frank,
of course.” He raised his eyebrows at her. “What did you think?
F
for something else? Something you want me to do to you?”

He hadn't touched her directly but she was starting to shake with anticipation. She pressed her legs together to try to ease the ache between them, but he nudged them apart and dripped honey down her clit.

“Not because you're not sweet enough,” he explained leisurely, as if he were working on a renovation project. “But because your hot little pussy will melt the honey and make you even slicker when I come to eat you up.”

“Is this one of the secrets of the Dukes of Santas Aguas?” she asked.

“The mental aphrodisiac of a powerful nobleman
kneeling to pleasure a woman. You always found it extremely sexy, if I remember correctly.”

“I did,” she groaned, remembering how he had introduced her to the pleasures of oral sex, giving and receiving. She had been a virgin and he had been inexperienced as well, so they had learned together. Almost too well.

“Next time we'll lie down together. I'll lick your little honeypot and you can suck on me.”

She shuddered in anticipation as more memories flooded to the surface. No wonder the Dukes of Santas Aguas had no problems attracting women to be their island sex slaves. She was no exception.

He replaced his finger with his mouth and she arched off the table. “Frank!”

He gave an amused hum and continued swirling his tongue around her clit, flicking and caressing it. She sobbed and clutched the edge of the table.

He slipped his finger inside her and she shuddered around him, slick and gripping. She moaned again and reached down to touch his hair. Tendrils of lust twined between her thighs, up her belly to her breasts. She fitfully brushed her nipple, hard and tight.

Frank lifted his head. “Cup your breasts, Julia. I want you to offer them up to me.”

In a daze, she did as he asked. He rewarded her obedience, just as the previous Dukes of Santas Aguas rewarded their lovers—with pleasure, unbearable pleasure. He dipped his finger into the pot of honey and painted each nipple with a thick, sticky coating, his fingers playing and pinching each peak until they looked like glazed chocolate drops, shiny-brown and pointed.

“Sweet as candy, just for me.”

“Touch me, Frank.” She was sobbing by then at the empty ache between her thighs.

He shook his head and she brushed between her legs in desperation. “I said no.” He caught her wrists in one big hand and held her arms over her head.

Her eyes widened, her hands trapped. “You're pinning me down.” She meant it as a complaint, but her voice sounded more breathy and turned-on than anxious.

“Am I hurting you?” he asked, his voice dark with need.

She shook her head.

His gaze started at her flushed face and moved leisurely down to her honey-drenched breasts, down to her passion-drenched thighs. His cock pulsed against her hip. “Well, you're hurting me,” he growled. “You?”

“I hurt for you. My body is on fire and you are the only one who can save me.” He fastened his mouth on her breast and she cried out again, the sweet, wet suction driving her mad. He licked the honey off her, nipping at the tip until she bucked under him. All he did was switch to the other breast, cleaning it with as much diligent attention as the first.

All the while he had her arms over her head, her breasts thrust upward for his greedy touch. She was at his mercy—but she loved it. Except she'd love it much better if he moved back down her body.

“Touch me, Frank,” she begged.

“Where? Here?” He bent again, one hand on her breast and the other sliding down her body.

She tried to point but he shook his head. “Keep your
arms above your head or I'll wrap my belt around your wrists and tie you to the table.”

She shuddered in pleasure and did as he asked. Imagining being tied up was an unexpected turn-on.

He reached her hot wet center and pushed a finger inside her. She arched off the table and he added another finger to thrust in and out, leisurely mimicking how he'd pleasured her last night. It was just as devastating, especially when he bent his head and sucked on her swollen little nub.

Dizzy heat burned through her and she thought she'd faint. His mouth teased and played with her, long licking strokes around mixed with sharp suction. Oh, yes, Frank was a master, and he was mastering her.

She reached down to touch his silky hair and he raised his head. “Ah, so you want me to tie you down?” His fingers continued their lazy strokes. “That big four-poster bed upstairs has seen more that its share of naughty women over the centuries. Imagine being tied up for unrelenting hours of passion as the Duke licked her, thrust into her, teased her. And only if she were very good, would he let her come.” Frank pinched her nipple and Julia screamed his name, tension shattering inside of her as she climaxed.

He was between her thighs in an instant. She heard a packet crinkle and then he was spreading her wide open and sliding inside her. Her eyes flew open at his welcome invasion.

“Oh, yesss,” he groaned. “Sticky, sweet and wet.” He braced his hands on either side of her head. “Touch yourself, make yourself come again.”

She reached between them, crying out as she found
her hot, swollen clit. She touched him too, brushing them both as she frantically rubbed herself.

“Yeah, I can feel you squeezing me.” He sucked a honeyed nipple into his mouth and Julia screamed, coming again.

Frank moaned against her breast and exploded inside her, rocking the table with his frenzied thrusts. She clung to him, eagerly milking his cock for every last bit of pleasure. Both of their climaxes seemed to last for an eternity, but she finally opened her eyes. He gingerly raised himself up and pushed back to stand on the kitchen floor, quickly disposing of the protection.