Secret Heirs: Royal Appointment. Carol Marinelli
her onto her back, he hooked her legs over his shoulders. He took a long, appreciative look, and then dipped his head and feasted while Callie groaned and bucked.
‘The bed straps,’ she gasped out.
‘Are you asking to be restrained?’
‘Sounds as if we’re about to take off,’ she warned, turning her head on the pillows to listen.
He shrugged as the whine of the engines turned into an imperative roar. ‘I think you could be right,’ he agreed dryly. ‘I definitely think you should be held firmly and safely in place.’ Securing her in a few deft moves, he returned to finish what he’d started.
She didn’t last long. ‘Aaaah...’ The cry of pleasure seemed torn from her soul. It escalated into a series of rhythmical, primal sounds deep in her throat. They tormented him. She tormented him. His was a seriously painful state.
‘Ah...ah...’ she gasped out repeatedly, bucking so furiously that even the straps and his hands had a battle to contain her. Once she was capable of speech, she instructed, ‘I need you inside me now,’ with her customary bluntness.
This coincided with the pilot applying full thrust. Pinning Callie’s hands above her head on the bank of soft cushions, he did the same. The sensation as the aircraft soared and they did too, was mind-numbing. Whatever he’d imagined about sex with Callie again was nothing compared to this. She was perfection. Her inner muscles gripped him with a vigour he could never have anticipated, and from there it was a wild, furious ride to satisfaction. By the time the jet had levelled out, Callie had enjoyed at least three noisy climaxes, and was ready for more. When she was done, he turned her on her side. ‘Curl up and let me touch you. I want to watch.’
They were both blunt in bed when it came to what they liked. Callie didn’t just agree to his proposition, she used colourful language to outline exactly what was expected of him. She lifted her thigh to tempt him even more, and angled her hips so he could see everything. He sank deep with a groan of contentment. ‘More,’ she insisted. ‘More.’
He felt as if his climax started at his toes and then flooded his entire body. They were engaged in a very primitive act. He was claiming his mate. She was claiming hers. Where this could lead he had no idea, and he wasn’t in any condition to reason things through sensibly. ‘I only have one complaint,’ he said, bringing her on top of him when they were quiet again.
‘A complaint?’ she queried.
‘You should always wear more clothes so there are more to take off.’
She relaxed and smiled, and, sighing with contentment, she added, ‘Well, that’s your Christmas present sorted out.’
Then she fell silent. He realised it was only a matter of days before Christmas. There had been so much going on he hadn’t even realised. ‘Hey,’ he whispered, seeing Callie frown. ‘We’re definitely going to be together at Christmas.’
‘Are we?’ Her voice was matter of fact. Her stare was deep and long.
‘Yes,’ he confirmed, stroking her back to soothe her. ‘You’re not going to be spending Christmas in one room over a shop. I want you to see where I live.’
‘I know where you live.’
‘I mean Fabrizio.’
‘It’s still a palace.’ She sighed as if picturing a world filled with art treasures, flunkeys and hushed decorum, when the truth was a modern palace that was more of a workplace. He had homes across the world where he enjoyed complete privacy, but since his enthronement the palace had become his main residence. He had an apartment there. The palace in Fabrizio was the engine of the dynasty, but his wing was elegant and private. The boy from the gutters had come a long way. ‘Where I live overlooks a lake and gardens, and has every comfort a child could need,’ he reassured Callie.
Better than one room over a shop, he could see her thinking. ‘I’m sure it’s lovely,’ she agreed, tense now. Turning her back on him, she pulled up the covers and pretended to sleep. She did drift off eventually, while he lay at her side with his arms folded behind his head, checking his plan to make sure there’d be no hitches.
When she woke, she sat up and spotted the selection of outfits on a rail immediately. ‘Where did they come from?’
‘The cabin attendant wheeled them in.’
‘While I was asleep? In your arms?’
‘You were well covered up. I asked my private secretary to make sure there were some dresses and accessories on board for you, for when you disembark.’
‘I’ve got my suit.’
He glanced at the creased skirt and jacket, still lying on the floor where she’d dropped them. ‘Well, I have to say, this is another first.’
‘What is?’
‘A woman refusing to look at a rail of clothes.’
‘Chauvinist.’ Grabbing a sheet around her, she swung off the bed. ‘I didn’t say I wouldn’t look at them, but I must insist on paying for whatever I choose.’
‘I would expect nothing less of you,’ he assured her, straight-faced.
‘Are you mocking me?’ she demanded.
‘Maybe a little,’ he admitted wryly.
For a few seconds as they stared at each other, he was stunned by how Callie made him feel. He had always guarded his emotions, but with Callie that wasn’t possible. Even with the Prince, his late father, it had been very much a man-to-man relationship. He’d never had any softening influences in his life. Women had always been accessories in the past, a deal that worked well both ways, but Callie was different, special. Tousle-haired and flushed from sleep, she was drowsy-eyed with contentment, but still ready to take him on if she felt it necessary. His groin tightened at the thought. Unfortunately there wasn’t time. They’d be landing soon. ‘I’m looking forward to seeing which outfit you choose.’
She hummed and shot him a warning look.
That was all it took. He’d been inactive long enough. Crossing the cabin, he yanked her close to plant a hard, hot kiss on her tempting mouth. ‘Surprise me,’ he whispered.
‘Don’t I always?’
He kissed her again.
‘What was that for?’ she demanded.
‘A down-payment on later.’
‘I won’t be bribed,’ she warned.
He laughed as he left the cabin. They’d slept together, made love together, and been happy together. Now they had a deal to make that both they and Fabrizio could live with. He was sure of Callie in so many ways. She was full of light and love and passion, and was honest and direct to a fault. That didn’t mean he could predict how she would react to the idea of raising their child in Fabrizio, but for him that outcome was non-negotiable.
* * *
She chose a simple outfit of jeans, crisp white shirt and a smart navy-blue blazer, teamed with a pair of mid-heeled boots. She felt comfortable, confident, and happy—until she saw the royal chauffeur, standing by the side of the big royal limousine. The imposing black vehicle flying the crimson and gold flag of Fabrizio on its bonnet, above a shield that displayed Luca’s royal house in images of a lion, a rearing black stallion and a mandolin, was a real punch between the eyes, reminding her that Luca was a royal prince with all the money, power, and influence he could ever wish for, while she couldn’t even get a job.
The chauffeur stood proudly to attention as Luca appeared at the door of the aircraft. He ushered her ahead of him. She felt exposed. The blazer and jeans didn’t seem enough somehow now that Luca had changed into a smart, dark linen suit with a pale blue open-necked shirt. If he’d looked stunning before, he looked like a prince now. Then, she thought, Stand tall, you’ve got as much right as anyone else to fall down the steps of an aircraft.