The Playboy Prince (Piacere Princes, Book One)
Page 24
Magdalena wasn’t keen on teasing, this morning, or waiting. Her fingers wrapped around his dick and moved in long, firm strokes. She writhed underneath him as he pushed her toward the edge of her control, and when she guided him inside the heat pulsing between her legs, he couldn’t resist any longer.
The hot wetness of her nearly undid him. He slid in deep and held himself there, adjusting to the feeling of their bodies joined together. Then Maggie tipped her hips up, inviting him deeper still, and moved against him in that agonizingly measured way that she had.
Salvy rocked inside her, his lips kissing and biting at hers. He loved the taste of her, the sensation of being inside her from his tongue to his dick. He felt her orgasm begin to build as she tightened around him and her breathing quickened. When she tumbled into bliss, gasping his name over and over as she convulsed around him, Salvy let go, too. He loved coming with her, the wonder of releasing control to her as she gave it over to him, until they collapsed together with wildly beating hearts and the smell of lust salty in the air.
Her fingers went again to his hair, making lazy arcs in the thick strands. “I think Tahiti sounds nice.”
“It’s private, too, so if we want to be far enough away that clothing is optional…” He murmured this into her chest, marveling at the way her nipples responded so quickly to the sweep of his breath. It wouldn’t be long before he was ready again, too.
“I don’t know. You might have a hard time convincing me to leave.”
He raised his head, propping his chin on the heel of his hand so that he could stare at her. “We have the rest of our lives to pick our favorite spot. Then, we’ll retire there after Elisa inherits the crown, marries a nice man, and has some children.”
She laughed, the throaty sound of it making him twitch inside her. “You’re pinning a lot of hope on a little girl who doesn’t seem to be any more interested in conforming than her wild uncle was a month ago.”
“You saved me, Maggie. From myself.”
Her fingers cupped his chin. “You saved me, too. We’re even.”
“We’re getting married in a week.”
“I know. Then, what will you do with me?”
“I have some interesting role-playing ideas, if you’re interested.”
“I’m interested.” She dipped her finger between his lips and closed her eyes as he sucked on it, flicking his tongue across the tip. “I’m interested in anything and everything, as long as you’re the one leading me through it.”
He leaned his head back and her hand fell to her belly. “You like when I play the demanding prince, is that right?”
Her gaze hooded, desire creeping back through the sated glow of a moment before. “I like it because you’re not playing at that at all. Are you.”
It wasn’t a question. He was hard as a rock again thinking about all of the ways she pleased him, all of the ways he would please her, and Salvadore shifted, rolling her away from him and tugging her ass into his crotch in one smooth movement. The gasp she let go as his fingers went back to her nipples thrilled him.
“Shall we start right now?” he whispered in her neck, the way her ass moved against his dick all the answer he needed about her readiness to play.
“Yes. Please.”
“Okay.” He put his arms around her and tugged her close, their bodies flush with desire. His lips hovered over her ear. “Love me, Magdalena Rossi. That is my demand.”
She turned slightly, enough to look into his eyes, and then kissed him full on the mouth. “Always. Is that all?”
He loved the easy teasing between them. The desire, the understanding, the history, the friendship. Salvy answered her raised eyebrow with a stern look. The smile she gave him was wicked.
They were going to miss breakfast again, after all.
THANK YOU!
Thank you for reading The Playboy Prince! I expect to release the next full length installment, The Dutiful Prince, early in 2017, and offer a FREE novella (if you’re signed up for the newsletter!) featuring Salvy and Maggie’s wedding before then. If you enjoyed this installment, please take a moment to review it - things like that are such a big help and I so appreciate your time!
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ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
You might think that by a fifteenth or sixteenth (omg I’ve lost count and am too lazy to look it up!) I would have thanked everyone there is to thank or just cut and paste these things, but you would be wrong! I never ceases to amaze me how different the process is for each book, front to back, and even when I’m thanking some of the same people they have each grown with me and my projects to the point where I’m no longer sure any of this would be possible if I lost a single one of them.
Shannon Page, thank you for stepping in and copyediting these crazy books. You know how to roll with the punches, and that’s all a writer can ask for these days.
I’ve come to realize that proofreading is one of the hardest things to get right, and that no matter how many eyeballs go on a manuscript, there are things that slip through the cracks. The team I’ve pulled together have the best eyeballs in the business, which means less distractions for the reader, and for that, I’m grateful. Thanks to Mary Ziegenhorn, Cheryl Heinrich, Diane Thede, and Diane Cleary for cleaning these up for me.
There are certain people who might not think they have much to do with this specific book, but without whom my life would be such an unholy mess that creating anything except rocking motions in the corner wouldn’t be possible. In no particular order—Denise Grover Swank, LeighAnn Kopans, Amalia Dillon, on the writing side, along with my wonderfully patient and supportive agent, Kathleen Rushall—you save me. Then there’s my family, blood and not (that includes you, Julia, Jenna, Ryan, and Emma), who put up with my nonsense and make me feel like there’s no one they would rather me be than just me. Andrea Sola, who has likely secured sainthood after nearly thirty years of friendship with me and Paul, a more patient and loving and steady love than I could have ever hoped to find—I love you both.
I love you all.
And I love you, dear readers, whose reviews and tweets and mentions and emails do more than brighten my day. They make it easy to sit down in front of the keyboard and do what I love to do—write stories—with the confidence that there are people out there who are dying to read them.
Also by LYLA PAYNE
WHITMAN UNIVERSITY
Broken at Love
By Referral Only
Be My Downfall
Staying On Top
Living the Dream
Going for Broke (published in Fifty First Times: A New Adult Anthology)
LOWCOUNTRY MYSTERIES
Not Quite Dead
Not Quite Cold
Not Quite True
Quite Curious
Not Quite Gone
Quite Precarious
Not Quite Right
Not Quite Mine
Not Quite Alive (October 11, 2016)
THE PIACERE PRINCES
The Playboy Prince
The Dutiful Prince
The Crooked Prince
Mistletoe & Mr. Right
Sleigh Bells & Second Chances
SECRETS DON’T MAKE FRIENDS
Secrets Don’t Make Friends
Secrets Don’t Make Survivors
Secrets Don’t Make Lovers (2017)
Young Adult Novels Written as TRISHA LEIGH
THE LAST YEAR
Whispers in Autumn
Winter Omens
Betrayals in Spring
Summer Ruins
THE CAVY FILES
Gypsy
Alliance
Buried
THE HISTORIANS
R
eturn Once More
Exist Once More (November, 2016)
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Lyla Payne has been publishing New Adult romance novels for a little over a year, starting with Broken at Love and continuing with the rest of the Whitman University series. She loves telling stories, discovering the little reasons people fall in love, and uncovering hidden truths in the world around us – past and present. In her spare time she cuddles her two dogs, pretends to enjoy exercising so that she can eat as much Chipotle as she wants, and harbors a deep and abiding hope that Zac Efron likes older women. She loves reading, of course, along with movies, traveling, and Irish whiskey. Lyla’s hard at work, ALWAYS, and hopes to bring you more Whitman University antics and at least one more Lowcountry ghost tale before the end of the year.
If you want to know more, please visit her at http://lylapayne.com
If you’re a fan of Young Adult fiction—science fiction or otherwise—please check out her work that’s published under the name Trisha Leigh. http://trishaleigh.com