by Tara Wylde
“First of all,” says Dante, “we don’t have queens in Morova. Second, he’s probably right. Have you been practicing?”
“No!” Vito barks. “Her violin goes right in the wardrobe and stays there until our next music lesson.”
I have to suppress a giggle as she pounds him one on the arm. “Snitch!”
“Besides,” Vito says, ignoring her. “I’m the one who’s going to be ruler. Right, Uncle?”
Oriana frowns deeply at that. Can’t say as I blame her – it doesn’t seem right that her brother is next in line just because he happens to have a penis. She’s a full two minutes older than him.
“Why is it that way?” she whines. “How come I can’t be ruler?”
Dante grips her with a one-armed hug. Then he turns his face to me and nods for Oriana to do the same.
“You should ask Ms. Sparks,” he says. “She’s an expert on these things.”
“Are you really?” she asks, clearly impressed.
“I guess I am. But I’m afraid you won’t like my answer to your question.”
She sighs, deflated. I get the feeling she’s run into walls like this before.
“It’s because of tradition,” she says. “Right?”
“Right,” I say with a sympathetic smile. “A bunch of people set the rules a long time ago, and they stayed the same because nobody wanted to change them.”
“But it’s not fair!” she cries with indignation only a preteen girl can muster.
Dante raises an eyebrow and grins. You can field that one, too, that look says.
“Well,” I say. “Think of it this way. Your uncle has to do a whole bunch of things like standing around and watching parades, and signing legislation, and attending dinners with dignitaries. You know, like the boring stuff you learn to do in your studies. Right?”
Oriana nods. To my surprise, so does Dante.
“Meanwhile, Emilio gets to do whatever he wants. He can go horseback riding, or he can go waterskiing on the lake, or he can just sit around and watch Netflix if he likes. Which one sounds better to you?”
She chews this over for a moment.
“Emilio!” she says, brightening. “Uncle’s job sounds boring.”
Dante’s smile widens, even as Vito’s face darkens.
“Hey!” says Vito. “No fair! I don’t want to do boring stuff! I thought being the ruler was going to be cool!”
“You thought wrong,” says Dante, gripping them both in a hug. “Now, you two run along. Ms. Sparks and I have things to do.”
Their faces droop in resignation. Suddenly, Oriana’s lights up again.
“First you have to tell us what our names mean,” she says. “Then we’ll go.”
Dante rolls his eyes in mock frustration.
“Ugh!” he moans. “All right, if that’s what it takes to get you to go away and have your lunch.”
He leans in close to Vito’s ear. “Your name means life, because your mama and papa’s lives began when you were born,” he murmurs.
Vito smiles faintly – it’s obvious he loves this, but it’s also obvious he’s not too comfortable with me being here to witness all this mushy stuff.
Dante pulls Oriana close. “Your name means golden sunrise, because the day cannot begin without you.”
She kisses his stubbled cheek, and suddenly I’m overwhelmed by the undeniable urge to grab him and kiss him myself. I’ve never wanted a man the way I want him right now. Never even understood that I was capable of wanting anyone like this.
The twins hop off his lap and bow formally before taking off at a trot up the path towards the palace. “Arrivederci!” they call in unison as they disappear around a hedge.
Dante turns to me with a sheepish grin.
“If you tell anyone what you saw, I’ll deny it,” he says. “Maria had you sign a non-disclosure agreement, yes? I have a reputation as a scoundrel to uphold.”
“Of course,” I say, nodding gravely. “Morova would fall under such a scandal.”
His grin suddenly looks more like a grimace. Did I say something wrong? Then he’s back to his old self just as quickly.
“Come,” he says, taking my hand. I swear I can feel tiny sparks as his skin touches mine again. “Let me show you my favorite part of the gardens.”
He leads me into a narrow lane protected by ten-foot-tall arborvitae shrubs standing sentinel next to the path. My heart races as we walk, hand in hand. Dante is the first man I’ve touched since I made out with Levi Hull under the bleachers at my prom almost a decade ago.
The lane opens into a small, sheltered courtyard with a statue of a woman reclining in the center. I don’t recognize it.
“It’s Minerva At Rest,” he says, as if reading my mind. “It’s an early work by Ammannati. He was fascinated by the pair of Neptune and Minerva for some reason. Very few people venture to this section of the garden, so it’s virtually unknown. I doubt you could even find it on Wikipedia.”
It’s a beautiful work; raw, but the passion behind it is undeniable.
“What an incredible find,” I say. “Thank you for showing it to me. May I ask why it’s your favorite?”
“Minerva is the goddess of wisdom. Whenever I have a dilemma I can’t solve, I come here and discuss it with her. It’s where I was headed when I ran into you.”
He looks at me wide-eyed, as if surprised at what he’s just said.
“Don’t worry,” I say. “Non-disclosure, remember?”
It would be an unforgiveable breach of protocol to ask what problem had sent him here to bend Minerva’s ear.
“Does it have something to do with what you shouted yesterday?” some idiot asks.
Oh fuck, the idiot is me. Shit shit shit, what did I just do?!
Dante’s eyes narrow, and it’s as if the world disappears and only this tiny courtyard exists.
Please don’t fire me. Please don’t fire me.
“In fact, it does,” he says. “And just like today, my chance meeting with you yesterday managed to shake me out of my funk and change my thinking, if only for a short time.”
I’m staring at him blankly now, heart hammering in my chest. My mind is reeling, trying to figure out something, anything, to say.
“You’re… welcome?” I croak.
Oh, that was fucking brilliant, Amanda. If you hurry, you can still get a seat on the red-eye back to America tonight.
I’m beginning to believe in out-of-body experiences. I swear I can feel my soul trying to squeeze its way out of me through my eyeballs and run away. Maybe I should just crumple to the ground and fake a seizure.
Before I know what’s happening, Dante closes the gap between us and grabs me by my arms. Then his lips are pressing against mine, warm and wet and electric.
Suddenly he breaks the contact and steps back, holding me at arms length, looking at me with eyes like moons.
“I’m – I’m terribly sorry,” he breathes. “That was – that was –”
“Incredible,” I finish for him, yanking him back towards me and covering his mouth with mine.
Chapter One Hundred Eighty-Five
9. DANTE
I know I’m doing the wrong thing, but I can’t stop myself.
Her full lips accept mine with an eagerness that matches my own. Our tongues meet, intensely probing and searching each other as my arms encircle her waist.
Amanda slides her arms under my shoulders and grips me even more tightly. Her breasts – those magnificent breasts that overpowered my senses when I glimpsed them full and wet yesterday – press against me, swelling through the top of her blouse.
Her response makes me throw royal manners to the wind and grip her ass through her skirt. All I want is to pull her as close to me as physically possible. She does her own part, shifting her hips to press her groin against the bulge of my erection.
“Dante,” she breathes in my ear. “Oh God…”
My mouth finds the skin of her neck as she twines her fingers through my hair, gr
ipping me tightly. My cock strains with painful pleasure against my zipper as we find a rhythm with our hips, back and forth.
I gently push her backwards a few steps into the relative privacy of the sentinel shrubs. As we leave the path, she becomes more brazen, pulling down the loose shoulders of her peasant blouse and exposing the creamy skin of her cleavage to welcome my lips. It’s soft and warm under my tongue.
My hands have a will of their own. They slide under her blouse and practiced fingers instantly release the clasp of her bra. I cup her breasts as they come free of the fabric, squeezing lightly and prompting an appreciative groan in my ear.
Amanda’s fingers clamp onto my neck as she slides her tongue into the hollow beneath my left ear, sending a thrill of anticipation down my spine. My cock throbs in response, and she grinds her mound into me even harder.
“You’re so beautiful,” I sigh.
Suddenly her tongue is back in my mouth and her hand is gripping the bulge under my pants, urgently kneading my cock and sending waves of pleasure through me. My hands reflexively grip her ass in response.
Her fingers fumble with my zipper and I open my eyes to see her staring at me, biting her lower lip.
“Amanda,” I whisper, shocked.
Her eyes are locked on mine as she begins to unbutton her blouse.
Chapter One Hundred Eighty-Six
10. AMANDA
What I’m feeling right now is the total opposite of an out-of-body experience. All I am aware of right now is my body. Rational thought is a distant memory.
If my rational brain was working, it would tell me that this can’t be real. And if it is real, this is utterly insane, that I don’t know what I’m doing, that I’m making the biggest mistake of my life.
But my body is telling me it needs to feel Dante’s skin against mine, and it won’t be denied.
I fumble frantically with the buttons on his shirt as his eyes roam over my body. I’ve never been naked in front of a man before – to have the sexiest man in the world be the first to see my body is so erotic I’m already on the verge of an orgasm.
Dante helps me unbutton with one hand and unzips his fly with the other. A moment later and I’m staring at his sculpted chest and washboard abs. He could be one of the statues in this garden, a masterpiece.
His torso is heaving in time with his breathing. So is mine. His smoldering grey eyes, like the embers of a campfire, lock onto mine for one intense moment. Then his hard cock flips free from his pants and my breath stops in my chest.
It’s the first one I’ve ever seen; so much bigger than I thought it would be. Studying hundreds of nude Renaissance statues didn’t prepare me for this.
I don’t have time to think about it because suddenly Dante’s mouth is on my nipple, his hot tongue almost burning against the delicate skin there. I have to hold onto his neck to keep from collapsing on the ground with pleasure. He scrapes his teeth along the nub, delicately but intensely, drawing an involuntary shudder from my very core.
His hands slide into the waistband of my skirt, pushing it down until it puddles around my ankles. There’s nothing left but my panties.
I couldn’t keep my hand away from his cock now if I wanted to. I reach out and snare it, gasping at the sheer heat of the skin, the unexpected contrast of softness and steel. It twitches in response to my touch and I hear Dante growl like a panther.
My God, this is really happening. I feel like I must be delirious, but there’s no mistaking the electricity coursing through me right now. Nothing has ever been so real before in my life.
Then Dante’s free hand leaves my breast and wanders down my belly. The skin there contracts into goosebumps at his touch, and my heart races in anticipation of what’s coming next.
My knees almost buckle as his fingers glide along the slick outer lips of my entrance. I have to grips his neck with my left hand for support while my right keeps a firm hold of his erection.
I’ve never been with a man in this way, but I know enough to figure out what I should be doing for him. I glide my hand up and down his shaft, stroking slowly but firmly, feeling the veins standing out against my palm.
Dante returns the favor, pressing his wet fingers against my swollen clit and sending jolts of pleasure all up my spine. My hips buck in time with his strokes, each motion increasing the pleasure, until he suddenly flattens his palm against my mound. The pressure against my clit is delicious, making me gasp in his ear
My strokes turn harder and faster, increasing the friction against his cock as our tongues find each other again. Before I realize what I’m doing, I pull him closer and stand on my tiptoes. I guide the head of his cock towards my slit and rub it against the hot wetness there.
I can’t help it; my orgasm takes over my body like a possessing spirit. When his tip finds my clit, it’s game over. The world explodes in a kaleidoscope of colors and sensations as Dante takes hold of my buttocks and supports me in place, letting me ride the waves.
“It’s so good,” I pant. “I never imagined…”
“You make me weak,” he breathes back. “I can’t hold back…”
All I want is to feel his cock deep inside me, all the way in, to feel it become one with me. I’ve waited so long for this, and this moment is so perfect…
“Dante!” a female voice cries from somewhere in the gardens. “Dante, are you here, darling?”
Chapter One Hundred Eighty-Seven
11. DANTE
The sound of my aunt’s voice is more effective than a bucket of ice water, shocking me back to reality and surprising the blood right out of my throbbing cock.
Amanda gasps and nearly falls out of my arms. God, how could I have been so irresponsible?! We’re outdoors in the middle of the day! Thank God the twins happened on when they did instead of now.
That’s right, Dante, conveniently avoid the real reason this was such a ridiculous risk. Imagine trying to pass off another woman as your wife less than two weeks after fucking a virtual stranger in your garden! The media would have a field day, not to mention the chancellor.
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper to Amanda as we scramble to get our clothes back on. “I shouldn’t have done this. It was reprehensible of me.”
“You weren’t doing it alone,” she breathes, clasping her bra and covering up her breasts. Her stunning, alabaster breasts.
Snap out of it!
Amanda manages to get her outfit back in place as I finish buttoning my shirt. Thank God I don’t have any royal functions today; otherwise, I’d be trying to tie a bowtie right now, too. At least my raging hard-on has finally gone all the way down.
She smooths her hair with her hands; luckily, she never wears make-up – it would be gilding the lily, as far as I’m concerned – so she needn’t worry about any smudges.
“How do I look?” she asks, eyes pleading.
Like I imagine an angel must look.
“Fine,” I say. “And me?”
She swallows hard.
“Same.”
“All right. Follow my lead.”
I check the lane to see if Isabella is near. We’re in luck; the coast is clear, so I take Amanda’s hand and we step into the courtyard mere seconds before my aunt rounds the corner and discovers us.
“There you are!” she cries. “Didn’t you hear me calling?”
“Hmm?” I say, turning to face her. My elbow is in one hand, supporting my chin in the other. “Oh, hello, auntie.”
Amanda smiles, hands clasped in front of her.
“I beg your pardon, Your Highness,” she says sheepishly. “The prince was indulging my curiosity about this particular statue of Minerva. I didn’t know it existed.”
Isabella is the embodiment of the term “handsome woman.” Still very attractive in late middle age, but her features are more angular than softly feminine. It gives her an air of power and sophistication. I imagine Amanda is somewhat intimidated, despite the excellent act she’s putting on.
Hell, I’m in
timidated and I grew up with the woman.
Isabella smiles and waves a dismissive hand. “No matter,” she says. “And you are?”
“Where are my manners?” I say. Where, indeed. “Duchess Isabella Steiger, please meet Amanda Sparks, from America. She’s in charge of planning my birthday celebration. Amanda, Isabella is my maternal aunt, the former regent of Morova.”
They clasp hands. “I’m well aware of your contributions to Morova,” Amanda says. “There are many who say you held the kingdom together during its greatest challenge.”
Isabella bows humbly. It’s an act – my aunt is about as humble as a professional wrestler – but she’s very good at it.
“Maria has told me all about you, dear. I’m sure Dante’s fate is in capable hands.”
She turns to me. “Assuming my nephew is kind enough to show up, of course.”
I favor her with a wincing smile. Isabella has never been one to dance around the point.
“I’ve learned my lesson, auntie,” I say, dripping with contrition. “I will not leave the palace until after the ceremony. This I swear on my honor as the defender of the realm of Morova.”
“Mm-hmm.” I don’t have any tricks she doesn’t know. “Just be there on your birthday, defender of the realm.”
It dawns on me that she was searching for me earlier, and I use it as a way to distract her from wondering why Amanda and I were out here alone.
“What can I do for you?” I ask. “You were looking for me; I assume you needed me for something?”
“Yes,” she says, looking as if she just remembered that herself. “I’m trying to find the family sword.”
Ah, yes. That fucking sword.
“Pardon me, ma’am,” says Amanda. “Maria mentioned to me that Signore Ferrare has the sword. I actually need to keep track of it myself, as it plays a key role in the birthday ceremonies.”
“Well, then,” says Isabella, cocking an elbow. “Shall we track down Carlo together? It will give us some time to discuss Dante’s birthday.”
