Her Royal Masquerade (Her Royal Romance) (11 page)

Heat flared within her. “Do you still hate me?” she asked as their bodies pressed shamelessly against one another.

His dark eyes bore into hers. “Of course.”

“It would only make it worse if we did feel something for each other, wouldn’t it?” Mia asked softly.

“Yes,” he replied. “We have no future together. You know this.”

She nodded, foolish sorrow a crushing pressure on her chest. “It’s better if we continue to hate each other. It will make it easier when I have to walk away again.”

Vittorio drove his fingers into her hair, holding her head in his hands. “Was it not easy for you to leave before?”

She wrapped her arms around his neck. “It was the most difficult thing I’ve ever done.”

The kiss was hard, punishing, before he swept her up in his arms. “Then you agree? You will remain here as my mistress until the princess appears?”

She would surely hear from her cousin in the morning. Mia knew she would soon regret it, but she could not refuse the chance to spend even one more night with Vittorio. She would simply have to remember to continue to hate him. To remember that he brought her here to punish her for lying to him. She would need to take what she wanted from him—hot sex and a holiday—and be ready to leave when the time came.

“Yes. I agree.”

Vittorio cradled Mia in his arms. She rested her head on his shoulder and he gently kissed the top of her head. He still hated her for what she had done. For lying to him. For pretending to be the woman he wanted to marry.

But as he carried her into the bedroom, he was afraid he was beginning to like the woman he was coming to know. She was smart and quick. Warm and loyal to her family, even to a cousin who had used her often for her own purposes.

They would be using each other now, aware that there was no future in this coupling. They would have to take pleasure together while they could. And there
would
be pleasure. They both knew that.

Vittorio set Mia on the floor beside the bed, letting their bodies slide against each other as he lowered her. He was already hard for her. He almost lost it when her tongue darted out to moisten her lips.

“I’m new at this mistress thing,” she said, her chin lifted, her voice sharp. “Do I wait for your commands, oh mighty prince? Can I take some initiative and, for example, unbutton this shirt and slip it from your shoulders? Or do you like to take the first step?”

He would die if he could not have her hands on him again. Soon. “I have noticed you have quite a mouth on you when you are uneasy.”

“I have a right to be nervous. You’ve probably had dozens of mistresses, but this is a first for me.”

“You over-estimate my mistress history,” he replied. “Let us not worry about the past. And not think about the future.” He took her hands, kissed the tips of her fingers and then placed them on the front of his shirt, over the buttons of which she’d been speaking. “Let us simply enjoy the moment we are in right now.”

Her fingers were warm where they brushed his skin as she slipped the buttons from their holes. He pushed back the surprising sense of urgency that rose within him. He didn’t want to rush this night of sex with Mia. For all he knew, Princess Birgitte was on a plane right now, headed for Mezzano. Vittorio realized he wasn’t all that anxious for her to arrive. He wanted more time with Mia.

She finished unbuttoning his shirt and his body hardened even more when she slipped her slender hands beneath the fabric, ran them up his chest and over his shoulders to push the shirt off of him. He was hard as iron behind his zipper.

“I imagine a mistress is supposed to compliment you often,” Mia said. She ran her hands over his chest again. “Oh, Your Highness, you are so hard. So hot.” She reached for his belt. “Let me take these trousers off of you and see how hard and hot you are down here.”

“Mia…” He didn’t want her like this. He didn’t want a reminder that she wasn’t here of her own free will. Not completely. Not like the last time.

She unbuckled his belt, unfastened his trousers and slowly lowered the zipper. He hissed when she reached into his underwear and released him. His trousers puddled around his ankles.

“I’d forgotten how big you are, Your Highness.” Her voice was still sassy, but he told himself there was a breathiness that hadn’t been there a moment before.

“Mia…” he growled. He didn’t like her acting this way. If they hadn’t had that night together before, he might not know the difference, but he could tell she was once again playing a part. Speaking the words she thought he wanted to hear.

She dropped to her knees before him, took him in her hands. “This is what mistresses do, isn’t it?” She licked her lips blatantly. “Mmm. I can’t wait to taste you, Your Highness.”

“Mia, you don’t have to do this.”

She looked up at him with her big blue eyes. Her hair had dried into a shimmering veil of soft silk. “You don’t want me to take you into my mouth? You don’t want me to service you as a good mistress should?”

“Yes. No.” He groaned when she stroked him, her hands quick and hot. “I don’t want you to pretend.”

She tilted her head and frowned. “I don’t understand. Pretend what?”

“Pretend to be a mistress.”

“But that’s what I am, Your Highness. I’m not playing a part now. Remember?” She licked his length and he groaned. “You wanted me to be your mistress and I agreed.”

He opened his mouth to tell her it was the attitude he was complaining about. Addressing him as “Your Highness” instead of using his name. Reducing every action to what she thought a mistress should do. Reminding him over and over that he brought her here for this, and this alone. Vittorio knew his thoughts didn’t make any sense because that
was
why he’d brought her to Mezzano. He’d wanted her to regret her actions, not to make him regret his.

But then Mia took him into her mouth and he lost the ability to think. To speak.

He reached out and grasped her head before his knees buckled and he found himself on the floor with her. She took him deep and he groaned as myriad sensations bombarded him while her hot mouth and clever tongue moved over him. He tried to resist the urge to thrust faster, harder, between her lips. He was breathing heavily when she released him and sat back on her heels.

“Oh, Your Highness, you taste so good. I never thought I would ever—”

Vittorio growled, grabbed her shoulders and yanked her to her feet. “Stop it!” He kissed her hard and quick. Two could play this game. “Strip and get up on the bed.”

The tiny gasp she made went straight to his groin. “Yes, Your Highness.” She pulled the dress over her head and he realized she wore nothing at all underneath. She met his gaze with a lift of her chin before she turned and crossed the room, carefully draping the dress over the same chair where she’d placed the ball gown she wore a week ago. He was certain she did that as a reminder.

He didn’t need any reminders.

“Quick. On the bed. I’ve waited long enough.”

She didn’t hurry, though, the vixen, as she approached, naked, her hips swaying, a small smile on her lips. She climbed onto the mattress and remained on her hands and knees. Her shapely behind faced him. Mia looked over her shoulder at him with a smirk.

“Like this, Your Highness?”

“Don’t tempt me,” he ground out. His hands itched with the urge to smack that sassy bottom. She deserved it, didn’t she? For lying to him? For mocking him? For tempting him with what he couldn’t keep and reminding him that he’d asked for the temptation?

He stepped out of his trousers and briefs and sat down on the edge of the mattress. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her face down over his lap.

“Vittorio!” she cried out and wriggled against his throbbing erection.

“So now you will use my name?” He swept her hair out of the way so he could see her face and held her down with one hand on her warm, smooth back. He stroked the soft, firm globes of her bare bottom with the other hand. She moaned in obvious pleasure. When she began to settle down, he smacked her with the palm of his hand. The sharp blow probably made his hand sting as much as her bottom did. Mia gasped and then began struggling again, her soft stomach rubbing against his erection.

He spanked her again. And once more. Her soft cries seemed to be a blend of outrage and arousal. Her face was buried in the covers, her hands pulling the soft comforter into her fists. But she’d stopped struggling.

Then after one more quick slap, his fingers found their way between her legs, discovering the soft, wet secrets nestled there. She moved against his hand, rubbing and inviting him to delve deeper. He slipped two fingers into her hot core and savored the clench of flesh around them.

He throbbed with his need for her. He flipped her over and slid her body up the mattress until her head reached the pillows. Her eyes widened but she didn’t say a word. He knelt between her wide spread legs and put his mouth on her, tasting her as she’d been tasting him a short time before. Her hands found his head, her fingers tangling in his hair. The tang of her desire was sweet on his tongue.

Her body moved under him, asking for more from him. Her fingers tightened on his hair, demanding it faster, harder. Strangled gasps escaped her parted lips. He snuck a quick glance and saw that her head was thrown back, her eyes closed, her back arched, her knees dropped to the mattress, giving him full access to all of her.

He could live off her nectar. He could stay between her legs forever. But on the heels of that realization came the knowledge that he would not have her forever. That he couldn’t live with her for long. They might only have a few hours together. A few days if he was lucky.

Lucky?
The longer they were together, the harder it would be for him to remember that he was punishing her for her deception. That he hated liars. That he didn’t want to like her. He didn’t want to need her.

Vittorio surged up and grabbed a condom from the drawer beside the bed. As soon as he was sheathed, he plunged into Mia’s heat. Let her surround him. Let her sweet body slake this need for her, the unfamiliar yearning he’d never experienced so strongly before.

Mia grasped his forearms and moved with him. Her hips lifted to meet his thrusts. Her eyes were still closed, lips still parted as her breaths came more rapidly.

“Harder,” she panted. “Faster.”

She lifted her hips even more and he took the hint and gripped her hips and lifted. The change in angle must have been what she was reaching for because she cried out as her orgasm hit her. Her body bucked beneath him and she clenched around him, sending him over the edge with her.

He cried out her name as he came. He opened his eyes and watched her as their bodies moved together, as their climaxes directed the dance. “Mia,” he said, softer this time. Her lids fluttered open and her gaze locked with his. He dropped a soft kiss to her lips, surprised at the sudden tenderness that welled up inside him.

He didn’t want to feel anything close to tenderness for this woman. He was supposed to hate her. For what she’d said. What she’d done. Instead, he gathered her close and fell asleep in her arms.

What had she done?

Mia woke up alone in Prince Vittorio’s bed the next morning. Sunshine poured through the long windows. She was alone among the tangled sheets and the memories of an incredible night of lovemaking.

No, she couldn’t call it lovemaking. Princes didn’t make love to their mistresses, especially mistresses they hated. It had been sex. Only sex.

Memories of their night together brought a sigh to her lips even as her brain started throwing recriminations at her. How could she have agreed to be a prince’s mistress? A mistress! The kind of women the people of her village whispered about with such disdain.

The citizens of Stagatland loved their royal families, but that didn’t mean they gossiped any less. King Karl had two brothers and while Mia never heard any talk about the king keeping a mistress, there were many rumors about the greedy women the dukes put up in fancy apartments in the city. The townspeople sneered and complained about the way they spent money on these women. Everyone knew that mistresses traded their bodies and their self-respect for fancy clothes and expensive jewelry.

Mistress was the same as whore to the people of Stagatland.

But she hadn’t felt like a whore in Vittorio’s arms last night.

It was easier to think of him as
Vittorio
rather than the prince. Vittorio was a man who lived and breathed and worried about his father and loved his brother and sister. Not an impersonal figurehead. Not a prince. Not a man who would keep a mistress.

He was a man who kissed with unbridled passion. A man whose moan rumbled through his chest. Whose laughter lightened her spirits. She wished he laughed more, but she hadn’t really given him much to laugh about, had she?

She wanted to hate him. To blame him for bringing her here. For keeping her here. But even when she’d been angry with him, she’d never hated him. But that was her problem, wasn’t it?

It was time to get out of this soft bed, but what did the day hold in store for her? If Birgitte didn’t turn up today, which was highly doubtful, what would Mia do all day? The walls of Vittorio’s suite had started to close in on her yesterday. She wasn’t one to sit around and do nothing all day. She’d go totally crazy. It was time to find something to do. She crawled out from between the incredibly soft sheets.

She supposed she should be grateful he hadn’t handcuffed her to the bed.

Mia took a long shower and then after a quick glance at the clothes that had come with her, saw that there was no robe. No slippers. No shoes, of course. She was glad she’d washed out her underwear last night because she didn’t have any bras or panties either. Mia pulled on a pair of jeans and a soft, familiar T-shirt. Vittorio had mentioned something about going shopping today. She was glad her purse had made it here. Her credit card would undoubtedly take quite a hit today.