ATasteofRome

by Lucy Felthouse

  She giggled. “Yes. I hope that is okay.”

  “Yes, yes, it’s definitely okay.” He threw all caution to the wind, slipped a hand behind her neck and pulled her toward him for a kiss. Their upper bodies, as well as their lips, melded together. Ryan reveled in the feeling of plump lips kissing his and soft breasts pushing against his chest. She brought whole new meaning to the phrase “dangerous curves”.

  Emelia opened her mouth and sneaked her tongue into his. He quickly came to the conclusion that it was a very wicked tongue too. She was no innocent, from the way she explored his mouth, tickled his gums and the insides of his lips, the way she twisted her tongue with his, slipped them sensuously together in moves that were practiced, skilled and incredibly erotic. Ryan had a very unmanly thought—that if she carried on for much longer, he was going to melt into a puddle of goo. Or perhaps, with a more masculine slant, he’d transform into a mass of writhing hormones.

  Either way, she was turning him on like crazy and he wished he could get her somewhere more private.

  It seemed she, too, was getting horny, as she pulled away from him only to move so she sat astride him, her lower legs and feet tucked behind his bottom and her floaty skirt covering their laps. Ryan decided to take advantage and slipped his hand beneath the material, caressed her thigh and waited to see her reaction—whether she’d balk or whether she’d want him to carry on. He was pretty sure he knew the answer but he wanted to check.

  The pleased moan she gave against his mouth definitely indicated that she wanted him to carry on, and he moved his hand higher, stroking her soft skin until he reached her crotch and its unmistakable heat. Emelia still hadn’t protested, so he hooked his fingers into the gusset of her knickers and pulled them to one side, then touched her bare skin.

  Now it was his turn to moan. Not only was she hot, she was wet too. Not totally slick but he’d soon rectify that. He gently slipped two fingers inside her pussy and pressed his thumb to her clit.

  Chapter Six

  Emelia purred like a contended cat. Ryan hushed her. They didn’t want to attract too much attention. They were already was past “get a room” territory. Yes, they were quite a distance from the path and the benches, but they were still in full view of anyone who happened to look in their direction.

  He kissed her again, attempting to swallow or at the very least muffle any sounds she might make as he continued to pleasure her. Curving his fingers, he pressed them against the spongy pad on the inside of her vaginal wall, rubbing it.

  Her response was to nibble at his bottom lip, her sharp teeth digging into the sensitive skin, much harder than was necessary. In response, he slipped his fingers from her cunt, pausing for effect before slicking her juices over her clit and beginning to stroke her nub in earnest. Emelia rolled her hips, urging him on, and he could only hope her skirt was hiding the worst of their sins. At least they weren’t in the Vatican Garden, running the risk of being struck down by a lightning bolt from the heavens.

  She kissed him more savagely, pushing hard against him, their teeth clashing, lips bruising. His cock was so stiff it hurt. But oddly, he didn’t mind that he wasn’t going to get any relief, not until he could sneak some time alone in the shower later, anyway. It was nice, having all his focus on someone else’s pleasure without thinking of his own.

  That wasn’t strictly true—he got pleasure from pleasuring women. Watching them writhe, hearing them moan. Their eyes rolling back in their heads, chests heaving, skin flushing—it was the best natural high he’d ever experienced, knowing he’d done that to them.

  He wanted more, wanted to taste her. It was addictive. She was addictive.

  Soon his efforts had the desired effect and Emelia’s body tensed, her breathing grew heavier, her color heightened. She twisted her face away from his, bit her own lip this time, and screwed her face up in concentration.

  Then she came. Stunted groans sounded from her throat as she attempted to prevent their escape. He plunged a finger into her core, reveling in the hard gripping-and-releasing motion her muscles made around him. He couldn’t help but wonder how it would feel around his cock. He was only human after all.

  She trembled and shook as she rode out her orgasm, and he pulled her close, pressing a kiss to her damp forehead before leaning his chin on the top of her head as he cradled her.

  The heaving of her chest finally slowed and she looked up at him with a goofy smile on her face. “Molto buono. That was very good. Grazie. Thank you.”

  Ryan realized he was learning Italian and having his ego stroked at the same time. “It was my pleasure,” he replied, truly meaning it. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

  He helped her up, pretending not to notice as she jiggled to get the crotch of her knickers back in the right place. As he handed Emelia her bag, then picked up his own, he wondered what on Earth was going to happen next. Would they simply part ways as though nothing had happened? Would she want to see him again? Did she want to drag him back to her hotel and take things further?

  The questions swam around his mind in circles and he stayed quiet, not wanting to push her into a decision one way or the other. As a result, they stood there in awkward silence for several long seconds until she sighed, reached into her bag and grabbed a pen. She took his hand and wrote her number on it before kissing his cheek. “I’m here for another two weeks,” she said, looking shy now. “If you want to see me again, just text or call me.”

  Fearing the number would sweat off or he’d forget it was there and wash his hands, he pulled his phone out and tapped the number in, saving it under her name. Now it was safe and sound. When he looked back up, she’d gone. He shook his head in disbelief. How could a girl go from being so brazen that she’d chat a guy up and get herself some digital sex to being so bashful she could barely talk to him, then run away? He wasn’t complaining, not really, because she’d saved him the job of figuring out what to do next.

  Shrugging, he put his phone away. He and Kristian hadn’t decided how much longer they were going to stay in Rome, but he was confident he’d have time to meet up with Emelia again. In fact he’d make time. He wanted to spend some more time with her and her sweet curves, preferably naked and in a bed. Or on a bed, or a floor. Whatever, as long as they were together in a private place and free to do whatever they liked.

  He checked his watch and saw he still had some time left to explore the Forum, so he had another quick drink from his bottle then headed out of the Vigna Barberiniand deeper into the complex, amazed by how varied it was, by how it was tourist attraction and beauty spot rolled into one. And apparently a really good place to pull chicks, make out with them and play with their pussies. He’d definitely be coming back here.

  He continued wandering for another couple of hours, taking lots of photos and exchanging the occasional polite smile with the people he passed. He checked the various places off his bucket list—Palatine Hill, the Arch of Septimus Severus, Temple of Saturn, Arch of Titus, the House of the Vestal Virgins and much more. He decided Romulus had picked a damn good place to found a city, one that was definitely up there amongst Europe’s greatest and most popular, and with good reason.

  After a while, Ryan grew tired and stopped appreciating the area so much, so he figured it was time to call it a day. He made his way through the sprawling ruins in search of the exit. It took a while, but as soon as he was out on the street again, his sense of direction took him to the Metro station with no trouble at all.

  Just before he headed underground, he sent Kristian a text.

  Heading back now, knackered. Dinner?

  Descending into the station, he quickly found where he needed to be and headed back to his temporary home. His phone bleeped as soon as he got back above ground, where his mobile signal returned.

  Definitely. I’ll head over and save us a table. See you in a few.

  The thought crossed Ryan’s mind that perhaps they were being a little dull using the same bar-restaurant so much, but then, why
not? The beer was good, the food was good and, most importantly, the prices were excellent. It had clearly been designed to cater for the people staying in the hostel, who were, in all reality, not flush with cash.

  He rounded the corner into the street that housed the hostel and their favorite eatery and saw Shanna and Taryn heading in the same direction. He didn’t bother trying to get their attention—he’d catch up with them in less than a minute.

  Sure enough, by the time he got into the bar, the girls were sitting with Kristian, already deep in conversation. A conversation that had his friend leaning in close to the girls and fidgeting in his seat. He could hardly wait to see what had gotten his friend so interested.

  “Hey, all,” he said, approaching the table. The girls spun around, then immediately looked relieved when they realized it was him. They beckoned him to sit down. “What’s going on?” he asked, taking a seat.

  Shanna moved her hand, revealing what was underneath. Ryan frowned at the credit-card sized and shaped item, thinking perhaps the girls had gone insane and pickpocketed someone.

  “What’s that?”

  The American girl pushed it closer and it was then he could see the writing on it. He raised an eyebrow and looked at Shanna.

  “We’re going home at the end of the week and we’ve got more cash left than we were expecting, so we decided to blow it on a hotel room. This is the key card.”

  Taryn butted in eagerly. “A private hotel room. No more sleeping in a room full of strangers, having to be well-behaved. Well, sorta well-behaved.” She tipped Ryan a cheeky wink. “If you’re willing, guys, we can do exactly what we like, all night long, until the end of the week.”

  Ryan and Kristian exchanged a glance, then turned back to the girls. “Sounds like a plan to us!”

  Ryan’s brain was already filling with the sexy possibilities and they, in turn, were making his cock fill with blood. He grinned widely and grabbed the menu, looking for the biggest meal he could find. He was going to need his energy—it was going to be a busy night.

  About Lucy Felthouse

  Lucy Felthouse is a graduate of the University of Derby, where she studied Creative Writing. During her first year, she was dared to write an erotic story—so she did. It went down a storm and she's never looked back. Lucy is multi-published across many subgenres of erotica and erotic romance and continues to try new subgenres and lengths of work in order to get all the ideas in her head onto paper, and eventually out into the world.

  Lucy welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email addresses on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.

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  Also by Lucy Felthouse

  A Taste of London

  A Taste of Paris

  Grand Slam with Lily Harlem

  Illicit Relations

  Mean Girls

  Ellora’s Cave Publishing

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  A Taste of Rome

  ISBN 9781419949012

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  A Taste of Rome Copyright © 2014 Lucy Felthouse

  Edited by Rebecca Hill

  Cover design and photography by Syneca

  Additional cover photography by shutterstock.com

  Electronic book publication March 2014

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