Off-Limits to the Crown Prince

by Kali Anthony

  ‘Touch me,’ he groaned and released one breast, taking her hand in his. Guiding it between them. Clasping it tight around his hard length. He hissed in a breath as he thrust into her palm, dropping his head back, and the tendons on his neck stood out, tense and as if he were in agony. She marvelled at the feel of him, silk over steel, and at his size, which she knew on a biological level should fit her, yet on a pure female level an uncertain niggle like fear began to seed and grow.

  Fear had no place here, not tonight on her one evening allowing herself to be the princess in this fantasy. A night to give, take, indulge, before going back to real life, or her new version of it.

  His grip on her hand loosened. He left her to stroke him up and down in the rhythm he’d set, returning his attention to her nipples, which were tight and aching. She shifted under his ministrations, needing him. It would be easy to ignore the obvious, not tell him about her inexperience, but this would do a disservice to them both, and she’d allow nothing to interfere with tonight.

  She let him go and he opened his eyes, his lips apart. Eyes glazed and unfocused with pleasure.

  ‘Alessio, I...’ She hesitated when this was not the time for it. Now was the time to be bold. To take what she wanted for herself. He stopped teasing her nipples, rested his hands gently on her hips. Looked down at her with the slightest of frowns, of concern, she thought, and the warmth of realisation flooded her. She traced her hands up his body, to rest on the firm swell of his pectoral muscles, as the dark hair on his chest pricked and teased under her fingertips.

  ‘You have something to say, bella?’

  ‘I—I’ve never done this before.’

  His grip on her hips tightened and released. ‘This?’

  ‘Sex. Any of it.’

  His eyes widened a fraction. Then he wrapped his strong arms round her and drew her close into his embrace. The tears pricked at her eyes. Her virginity wasn’t something she’d ever thought much of. It simply was. A fact. A reality. She’d never believed it merited much thought, until now.

  ‘I’m your first.’ The words were muffled and hot, murmured into her hair.

  In everything.

  ‘Yes.’

  He stroked a hand up and down her spine. Light, tender brushes, and goosebumps sprinkled over her skin, as soft and warm as a spring shower.

  ‘A better man would send you to bed on your own.’

  ‘A better man wouldn’t leave me feeling like this.’ She pulled back and his arms fell loose. Hannah looked up at him. His pupils were drowning out the colour of his eyes till they were almost black. He was still hard and hot against her belly.

  ‘Like what?’ he ground out, all gravel and darkness.

  ‘Empty. Like I’m going to die if you’re not inside me. I hurt for wanting you so badly.’

  His nostrils flared, lips parted a fraction. ‘I won’t leave you. I’ll make it good for you. I promise.’

  He slipped his hand to her left nipple again. Toying with it. Harder now. A light pinch.

  ‘Do you like that?’ he murmured.

  She arched her back into him with the bright spark of pleasure rushing straight between her legs. Not so gentle then, and the slow burn between them became hotter and hotter.

  ‘Yes.’ Her voice was a sigh, nothing more.

  ‘I can take the pain away,’ he said as he eased her panties from her body till they slipped down her legs. ‘You’ll be screaming tonight from pleasure.’

  Alessio slipped his hand between their bodies, between her thighs. Gentle strokes where she needed him most. It was too much and not enough all at the same time. She moved against him, desperate for more. Desperate to be filled, to be overwhelmed by him. She couldn’t look at him now. Closed her eyes as if to hold on to the sensation so it would never end.

  Then he slowed. Slid a finger inside her. Her fingers clawed into the hard muscles of his chest as he stroked something deep in her body, making Hannah quiver and quake with a flood of heat between her legs. ‘I’ll take care of you,’ he murmured gently into her ear, kissing feather-light where his breath had stroked at her skin.

  She clung round his neck because she’d fall if she didn’t. Riding his hand like a woman who was a stranger to her.

  Her head tipped back, and his lips were on hers. Soft, passionate. She opened and let him in. Their tongues touched, tangled together. She craved for him to invade every part of her. His fingers brushing her nipple, the sense of him deep inside, thrusting with one finger, then another.

  ‘Let go, bella.’ He whispered the words against her lips before crushing them to his again, adding a thumb to brush over her clitoris in soft, insistent strokes. He was everywhere, her world. She was burning like the hottest flame, till she was sure her skin would blister with it.

  Then she came, cracked in two as if Alessio had torn her apart with pleasure. Screaming as he’d promised, in a rush of perfect, blinding heat.

  * * *

  Alessio breathed in the scent of her, the brightness of her perfume, the dark musk of her arousal, as she clenched hot and wet round his fingers. Then the weight of her arms round his neck intensified, as if her knees were giving out underneath her. He swept Hannah into his arms, her body soft and limp, her eyes glazed with arousal, a flush of colour tinting her cheeks, her chest. So beautiful in that dying blush of pleasure it almost caused him physical pain. He dropped his mouth to hers, her lips soft and yielding like the rest of her. All slick and hot and wet.

  The privilege of being granted her trust flared inside him. He silently vowed it would be good for her, better than good. He wanted these hours with her to transcend mere sex. Something to be remembered, treasured, especially given it was her first time.

  There would be no disappointing Hannah tonight. On the contrary, he feared she would be a revelation to shake the foundations of his being. He laid her gently on the covers of his bed, his body trembling with the desire to be inside her, where his fingers had been. But he would make sure tonight was about her. Her pleasure first and foremost.

  Her eyes lay closed, the beautiful lashes feathering on her cheeks. He allowed her the bliss of the comedown from her orgasm. Perhaps her first at the hands of another. Marvelled at her body, splayed with abandon on the bed before him. Settled himself between her thighs where he could smell the sweet scent of arousal, the necklace at her throat like a jewelled symbol of his possession, making this all the more erotic. He dropped his head and licked, the taste of her like a drug shooting straight into his veins, and she groaned as he toyed with her. Worshipping her in the best way he knew how.

  Her back arched from the bed as she gripped and released the covers.

  ‘Alessio... I...it’s too much.’

  He ceased his ministrations. Stroked his thumbs gently on the insides of her thighs. As much as she said it was too much, her back arched, bringing her body closer to his mouth.

  ‘Relax. You have no idea how much your body can take but I can show you. I can show you it all. Let me pleasure you,’ he murmured against her, so close to where he wanted his mouth to be it almost watered.

  ‘Yes.’ The word came like the softest of exhales, the sweetest capitulation, and he began his gentle ministrations again, the light flicking of his tongue, till she thrashed on the bed, her words indecipherable. She thrust her hand into his hair and gripped tight, the bright needles of pain causing the heat of passion to roar through him like lava in his blood. He slipped his hands under her buttocks, the whole of her trembling. Held her in place as he sucked on the tight little nub at the centre of her and relished her second scream of the evening, this time his name sung to the room.

  There was no time now for him to wait, every part of him frayed and overheating. He had to be inside her. He’d spill himself on the sheets like a teenager if he wasn’t, and soon. He reached for his bedside drawer, the condoms there. Sheathed himself with diffi
culty because he was affected by it too, this thing between them. Climbed over her and she wrapped her arms round him tight.

  ‘Do you want me inside you?’

  ‘Never more than now.’

  ‘I’ll go slowly,’ he said, a promise voiced so he’d be forced to keep it, because all he wanted was to take. Ease his own agony. But tonight was for her. He kissed her, their tongues twining together, hot, erotic, as he slid against the folds of her, testing her wetness to ensure his entry would be easy enough, even though he wished he could promise her no pain. He notched himself at Hannah’s centre, slid a bit further, a little way inside, and shut his eyes at the overwhelming pleasure of her heat enveloping only the tip of him. Worked gentle thrusts, a little deeper, deeper still, till Hannah’s kisses became harder, more insistent. Bruising. She tilted her hips and he slid all the way inside, the hitch of her breath catching as he did so. He pulled his head back to look at her, to breathe through the pleasure to ensure her own, almost losing himself to his own orgasm right there.

  ‘Good?’ Sentences were beyond him, but he needed to check on her, the desire to make sure she wasn’t hurting, that she was enjoying this, clasping at something deep inside him.

  She opened her eyes and stared deep into his. Alessio’s muscles trembled as she clenched tight and hot round him. Gripping him like the warmest silken glove, so tight it was almost his undoing.

  ‘Perfect.’ Her voice was a sigh shivering right through him. The pleasure threaded in her voice, like a plea.

  ‘Should I move?’

  ‘Move? Yes.’

  His arms rested either side of her head. He stroked his thumbs to her temples, the necklace glittering in the soft light of the room, winding the blissful fantasy of the night round him once more.

  ‘It would be my greatest pleasure.’

  He rocked into her again and her eyes fluttered shut for a moment before opening. Holding his gaze. He said it would be his greatest pleasure, but all he craved was hers. She wrapped her legs tight round him, moving with him. He lost himself in her gaze, the flush of her skin, her lips, parted as if she couldn’t take in enough air. Head thrown back and eyes glazed and far away with ecstasy. The heat of her, the scent of her around him. The sound of their bodies coming together wound him tighter and tighter. And the words left his mouth in his own language. Murmurings of ecstasy, of thanks, of truth.

  ‘I don’t understand,’ she whispered, her blinks long and slow, her body tightening even harder round his. The tingle at the base of his spine heralded that he was close, so close.

  And against all his better judgement he told her.

  ‘You are so beautiful. It is too much. The privilege of being inside you.’

  He changed his angle, went deeper. Ground his hips against her body. Her eyes widened as the bright spill of tears gleamed and threatened. Then her gaze became unfocused as she stiffened, gasped and cried out his name as she came. He plunged over the edge with her, the ecstasy tearing up his spine as if he were being struck by lightning. A blinding white flash in his head almost obliterated his consciousness. Then, as he came back to himself once the spasms subsided, all he could see was her. Tears now tracking from the corners of her eyes. The sparkling necklace at her throat. For tonight he’d allow them both the fantasy.

  ‘La mia principessa.’

  My princess.

  Reality would come soon enough.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  HANNAH SAT IN an armchair opposite Alessio’s desk as he paced the rich crimson carpet of his office, checking his watch. He was dressed today in a crisp white shirt with a vibrant lemon-yellow tie. No jacket, which she suspected counted almost as casual with him. His body was tense, every part of him bristling as he almost wore a path through the plush flooring. She wanted to put her arm on him. To tell him it was okay to simply stop. She knew he could. That he could channel his restless energy elsewhere. How she craved a repeat performance. To spend her days and nights learning about him in every way. A slide of heat wound through her, hot and tempting. She didn’t know how he could be so immune to it all, when she wanted to melt into a human-shaped puddle in her seat.

  His gaze rested on her, cool and hard. So unlike the loose, relaxed, passionate man from the night before she was almost forced to wonder whether she’d dreamt what had happened between them. Today all she saw was the ruler of Lasserno, as if the man, Alessio Arcuri, had ceased to exist.

  ‘The hospital visit is private. No press have been alerted. I hope you recognise the privilege of this invitation. The children—’

  ‘The children are not in some circus where you can watch them perform. I’m aware how vulnerable children can be.’

  She’d never use sick children as fodder, he had to realise that. Or perhaps he didn’t really know her at all. But it wasn’t about his comment. No, he was distancing himself from her. Pulling away from the night they’d shared. This morning, waking to a cold and empty bed. The loss something almost palpable, drawing tears to her eyes when she’d wanted to portray herself as a sophisticate who understood they’d had one night together and that was all it could ever be.

  ‘Sex has a way of changing things...’

  He’d warned her and he’d been right. She understood passion now, the bruising agony of it, whereas once it had been an abstract concept experienced by others. Now, to her, Alessio sprang to life in glorious colour. She knew how his body worked in ways more than the cold anatomy of him. How his muscles bunched as he moved over her. The way the cords of his neck tensed as he was close, the blissful lack of focus in his eyes as he lost himself in her body. His care for her and her pleasure. All these things she could see even now, as his back was to her. They ran through her head, causing the whole of her to run hot, as if on fire. Things which showed he was a human and not the myth he tried so hard to portray to the world.

  Yet something about the way she was being dismissed slashed at her deep inside. Though she supposed Alessio could hardly ask are you okay? if he wanted to keep what they’d done secret, given Stefano was sitting in the corner with one eyebrow cocked, watching them both. Did he know what had happened? Was it painted all over her face in the heat rising there? How was she going to keep things together at the hospital?

  She took a deep breath. She was an adult, a grown woman. Last night had been a blissful, incredible, earth-shattering experience which could never be repeated. One night. One night. She’d say that mantra till it sank in and wove itself into the fibre of her being.

  Stefano announced the cars were ready and they left, Alessio travelling alone. He always seemed alone, she realised, and perhaps that was the way it had to be as a ruler, a solitary journey. The ache of that burned in her chest as they arrived at the hospital to a back entrance with no fanfare. Hannah was introduced and welcomed as the official portrait artist, reminding her that this was her job, so she pulled out her sketch pad and her pencils from a satchel, the familiar weight of them in her hands spreading a calm through her.

  Most people at the hospital seemed to be nonplussed with a prince in their midst, as if he did this often. Maybe he did, though it surprised her that the children’s ward was such a dour place. White walls, grey floors. A few faded pictures on the wall. All the children tucked neatly into the beds, though a few brightened up when Alessio arrived, grinning at him, waving as if he were an old friend. He grinned back, greeted some by name. She turned to the doctor who’d brought them here.

  ‘They seem to know him.’

  The doctor smiled. ‘Yes. A few of the children have serious health problems and have been here for some time. His Highness is popular with them. He visits as often as his schedule allows. He’s planning works on the children’s ward soon and likes to hear their ideas.’

  Alessio talked to a sad-looking little boy wearing a cast. The soft concern on his face made him seem unrecognisable from the stern Prince in the palace he’d sho
wn to her earlier.

  ‘Have you thought about art on the walls?’

  ‘We have hopes for many things. A complete refurbishment. So little money has been spent for so long. But the children would benefit if this were a happier place.’

  Alessio now seemed to be having an intense conversation with another child’s bear. It could have been a political discussion the way he gesticulated, whilst the little girl who owned the bear giggled, brightening the mood of the room. Hannah’s heart melted at the scene, a small shred of joy in this joyless place.

  ‘The corridor on the way in would be a wonderful place for a mural. If the children were being brought into the ward, it could make them less fearful to have something fun to look at. And then in here—’ Hannah gestured to another blank wall, the ideas flowing as to the scenes she’d like to paint, the cartoon characters, the animals ‘—even bright paint colours would be a simple solution. I could jot down some colour schemes and ideas that don’t cost much money if murals won’t fit into the budget.’

  ‘Please do.’ The doctor smiled. ‘Now I should introduce His Highness to some of the newest patients here. Scusi.’

  Hannah sat in a plastic chair, far enough away so she had a perfect view of the whole room. She opened her sketch pad, lingering for a few moments on the drawing of Alessio’s hands. His questing fingers, the way they drifted across her skin. But those were thoughts she wasn’t allowed to have because there’d be no repeat of the night before. She ignored the ember glowing deep inside, one she couldn’t stoke to life again. Instead, she turned to a fresh page and began another drawing. This picture was of Alessio, holding an animated conversation with the little girl’s bear.