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‘What did she say?’
She lowered the cup from her mouth, the colour on her face darkening as she quietly said, ‘That a prince’s wife is a vessel for his pleasure.’
‘Lie back, close your eyes, think of Monte Cleure and let me do what I want to you?’
He didn’t think he’d ever seen such a flame cover her face, but she didn’t drop her stare from his. ‘Yes.’
‘She never told you that you should expect pleasure too?’
‘She said some women were lucky enough to receive pleasure from their husbands, but that I shouldn’t expect it or ask for it.’ She put her cup back on the saucer, her cheeks now scarlet as a contortion of expressions flittered over her face.
He removed the clattering cup and saucer from her, placed it on the antique coffee table the rest of their breakfast stuff was spread out on, and idly asked, ‘Have you ever given yourself pleasure?’
Eyes widening in shock, her hands flew to her cheeks and she shook her head shakily.
‘Don’t be embarrassed,’ he murmured, leaning into her. ‘And do not be ashamed. Pleasure isn’t shameful.’ He captured the sash around her waist and untied it one-handed. ‘Asking for pleasure isn’t shameful...’ He bent his head to capture a puckered nipple in his mouth, heard the short, soft mew. ‘But to truly know what gives you the most pleasure you need to understand the basics of what works for you.’ Loosening the towel around his waist, he kissed his way up to her mouth and stretched out on his side beside her.
Her eyes didn’t leave his face, not even when he reached for a trembling hand and placed it on her pubis, nor when he took hold of his erection.
Slowly, he moved his hand up and down his arousal. Voice thickening, he leaned his face closer to hers. ‘Do you see what I’m doing? There is nothing wrong with self-pleasure. It’s how we learn best.’
Elsbeth felt almost drugged with arousal. It was the sensuality in Amadeo’s voice...the heat in his eyes. She was almost afraid to look at what he was doing to himself.
Breathing raggedly, she lifted her head and...
Dear Lord...
He was masturbating. His gaze was fixed on her and he was masturbating.
‘You don’t have to touch yourself,’ he whispered thickly. ‘You don’t have to do anything. If this makes you uncomfortable and you want me to stop then I will stop. Do you want me to stop?’
Her head shook itself.
His mouth hovered over hers. ‘Does it excite you?’
Excite her? She’d never seen anything so erotic in her life as her giant, sexy husband pleasuring himself. She’d neverdreamedshe would find such a sight erotic.
Her heart thumping, skin inflamed, she tiptoed her fingers down to her slickness. Her index finger slipped over her swollen sex and she gasped at the shock of excitement.
He groaned. ‘Mio dio, you’re so sexy.’
She touched the swollen spot that all her pleasure emanated from again, and this time she kept her hand there.
The pleasure...heavens. So different to how it felt when Amadeo was inside her and yet, with that hooded, burning look in his eyes, somehow even more intimate. She’d never imagined he would look at her the way he was now. As if he could stare at her for a thousand years and still want to look some more.
‘Dio, you have no idea how badly I want to taste you,’ he muttered.
‘Then do it.’
Was thathervoice? It didn’t sound like her voice, but the words came from her mouth.
And that didn’t feel like her quivering body his lips caressed as he snaked his way down it, but the sensation was everywhere, a heavy, dazzling cloud embracing her, making her head spin.
At the first press of his tongue to the place she most craved it, her thoughts dissolved into the cloud. When the lightning hit, its strength made her cry out as she shattered into a billion pieces.
Elsbeth opened her eyes and her heart twisted with sadness. At some point since they’d last made love, the room had darkened. Night was falling.
At some point soon, Amadeo would leave. The weight of his arm over her belly and the leg entwined with hers would leave with him. The mouth pressed into her hair. It would all be gone.
