The Prince's Chambermaid(8)

His last kiss had been lazy, almost careless-like someone dipping a toe  into a pool of water to test the temperature. But not today. Today it  was as if he had dived straight in. His lips were seeking. Expert.  Driving down on hers with sensual insistence and making her gasp with  pleasure.

Without preamble, Xaviero pushed her down onto the soft bed, seeing her  eyes widen in surprise as he began to unbutton her dress. 'You thought  perhaps we would-how do you say it-pet for hours? The struggle on the  bed as we remove first one item of clothing, and then the other? No.' He  smiled as her milky flesh began to be revealed to him. 'I like my women  naked,' he murmured and touched his lips to the pulse which fluttered  wildly at the base of her neck.

Her thoughts struggled to make themselves known over the clamour of her  senses. My women, he had said. Which implied he had known quite a few.  She swallowed as his lips began to graze over the line of her jaw. Of  course he has known quite a few-did you really think that a man like  this wouldn't have done? Another button popped open and Cathy closed her  eyes as she felt the whisper of his fingertip skating over her belly.  Should she tell him?

But now he was sliding her shoes off. And her tights. And his fingertip  was sliding over the insole of her bare foot-tracing a tantalising  circle there-and Cathy thought it incredible that such a sensation could  come from so provocative and yet so innocent a gesture.

'Ooh,' she breathed, forgetting all her misgivings as she thrilled to  his touch. Because in this setting all the pomp and circumstance  surrounding him had dissolved. Suddenly he was simply the man in denim  again. The man with the golden eyes who had so bewitched her. Who was  bringing her to life beneath his expert, seeking fingertips.  'That's … that's just gorgeous … '

Briefly, Xaviero smiled as he peeled off the uniform dress, briefly  assessing her underwear. You could tell a lot about a woman from her  underwear-and he had experienced more than his fair share of it.  Virginal white lace-never applicable-or sensual scarlet satin chosen to  send out a very specific message about the wearer. He'd seen just about  every variation on black-and garments where less was supposed to equal  more. He'd seen bottoms clad in French knickers and bottoms almost naked  in Brazilian thongs. He'd seen stockings, suspenders and hold-ups,  which always seemed to slide down at the most inopportune moments. But  he had never seen underwear like Cathy's before.

It was … His fingers moved around her narrow back to find the clasp of her  bra. Functional was pretty much the only word you could use to describe  it-because it certainly hadn't been chosen with eye appeal in mind.  Flesh-coloured briefs and a flesh-coloured bra-but then the latter had  quite a tough and supportive job to do, he acknowledged.

But when the catch sprang free, it was Xaviero's turn to moan with  pleasure as her breasts tumbled out, glorious and unfettered and free.

'Porca miseria!' he groaned, staring at them in disbelief before eagerly taking them in his hands.

Cathy let her head fall back against the pillow, vaguely aware that  perhaps she should be objecting-but unable to form a single coherent  thought, because now his lips were trailing sweet fire over her breasts.

'Oh!' she gasped.

His tongue stilled for a fraction of a second and he dragged in a  shuddering breath, feeling the jerk of his erection and the hot fever of  his blood. She was as responsive as he could have hoped for-even more  responsive than she had been in his dreams. And dreams were powerful  things, he recognised-sometimes they intruded on your reality and  altered it. So that for a moment he felt he knew this woman because he  had met a version of her in the unconscious world he inhabited while  asleep. Was that why he felt so intensely turned on? Or was it simply  because his body was so hungry for a woman's touch?                       
       
           



       

Except she wasn't touching him at all-and maybe that was because she was  clad in nothing but a pair of unattractive panties while he was still  wearing his suit.

He lifted his head and brushed his mouth against hers. 'You will forgive me if I leave you for a moment?'

Cathy froze as the erotic bubble in which she had been losing herself suddenly evaporated. 'Leave me?' she echoed.

Xaviero's lips curved into a satisfied smile. Did they not say that  low-born women made the very best of all lovers-with their unaffected  passion and disregard for the convention that a woman must never be too  enthusiastic if she wanted to snare a man? He began to trail his finger  over her skin and felt her shiver in response. Because she would surely  be aware that nothing permanent could ever come from such a liaison.  Unlike the socially ambitious beauties of his past, this voluptuous  little chambermaid would have no expectations of a future with him. And  how liberating was that?

'Just while I undress,' he qualified, one lazy fingertip skating  irresistibly to circle the heavy warmth of her breast. 'I want to feel  my skin next to your skin.'

'Oh,' she said softly. Cathy's cheeks flamed with pleasure, revelling in  how those simple words could thrill her so-her lingering doubts  banished by the glorious reality of what was happening. 'What a lovely  thing to say.'

'Well, then.' Reluctantly he moved away from her pink and white body and  stood up. She was so sweet-too sweet really. He couldn't remember a  woman ever being quite so straightforward. Quickly, he stood up, kicked  off his shoes and socks and shrugged off his jacket-seeing the  aquamarine eyes watching his every move, making no attempt to hide her  expression of enjoyment. 'You want me to perform a slow striptease for  you?' he questioned unsteadily. 'Is that the kind of thing which turns  you on?'

Her cheeks suddenly grew pink again. Perform? Have the Prince slowly  remove his clothes and perhaps have second thoughts about what was about  to happen? What she wanted to happen. And would happen, she thought  fiercely-because she had never felt like this before. Never imagined  that this kind of expectant joy could ever exist-and it had banished all  her normal shyness. Why, she was lying on one of the hotel beds,  wearing nothing but a pair of panties, and she didn't even care!

She swallowed as she watched the Prince unbuttoning his shirt and  revealing a broad bare chest. Up until now she had lived her life as  she'd been taught-and where had it got her? Precisely nowhere. And yet  she had never felt for Peter what she felt for the Prince. As if she  would die if he did not quickly come over here and kiss her again.

Firmly, she pushed her conscience away-losing herself instead in the  molten gold of his eyes as he pulled off his tie and let it drop to the  floor, where it lay coiled like a silken serpent. She shook her head in  reply to his question. 'No,' she said. 'I don't want any kind of show.  I … I just … want you here again.'

'Then you shall have me,' he promised softly. 'Just as soon as I get rid  of these … ' His hand moved to his belt and then gingerly he slid the zip  of his trousers down over his aching hardness. And then, after removing  something which glinted silver in the light-something which he put down  on the bedside table-he stepped out of his trousers. And his boxer  shorts …

Cathy gasped and he smiled.

'So big, mmm?' he questioned with soft satisfaction as he climbed back  onto the bed beside her and guided her hands between his legs.

Even though Cathy baulked at such intimacy, she wanted to please him-and  after that initial touch she did not feel in the least bit shy. On the  contrary, she was longing to know him and to explore him. To acquaint  herself with every centimetre of his glowing olive flesh. Eagerly, her  fingers tiptoed over the taut silken length-but he jerked away as if  she'd scalded him.

'No,' he said fiercely, and caught hold of her hand, pressing his lips  against her wrist and feeling the wild fluttering of her pulse. 'Not  yet. Not the first time.'

She wasn't sure what he meant, but by then he had moved over her and  begun to kiss her-melting away all her questions-dissolving everything  except pure passion with the power of his kiss. It was … it was the most  wonderful thing which had ever happened to her-as if she hadn't lived  properly until that moment.

'Oh,' she moaned, her body moving restlessly beneath his as she silently communicated her growing desire.

Xaviero reached down to test her honeyed warmth, feeling her buck  beneath his fingers-thinking how passionate she was. Usually, he liked  to run through an entire repertoire of his considerable sensual  skills-something which completely captivated all his lovers. Women  thought him unselfish, and in many ways he was-although he was always  accused of holding back emotionally. But he was aware that giving them  so much pleasure was also a kind of sexual boast-an innate need to  surpass every other man that they might have known. For wasn't it the  curse of the younger royal son to always feel the need to prove himself,  in every sphere?