The King's Surprise Bride: A Royal Wedding Novella (Royal Weddings Book 2)

by Vivien Vale

  Same as before, she overtakes me, and the sight of it is a thrilling turn-on for me.

  Her face is flushed and red hot. Her hair is a mane she tosses back and forth as her eyelids flutter.

  “Right there, right there!”

  Her tight pussy contracts around my cock, and I can feel the convulsions of her whole body, spreading out from her belly in her climax. She digs her nails sharply into my butt and moans with pleasure. We kiss hard and rough, trying to subdue each other’s tongue.

  She releases the lock of her legs around my hip, and I slowly put her down. We’re both panting.

  Nicole is definitely transformed. She’s long since abandoned her former shell and dropped all her defenses. I desire her more than ever.

  “Nicole,” I stammer. “This is incredible, I’ve never…you make me…”

  She turns around and bends down at the waist with her palms pressed flat against the wall.

  She looks over her shoulder and tosses her hair to the side.

  “Dante,” she says, “we’ve made love. Now it’s time to fuck.”

  I stand behind her, stroking my cock. I tease her with my tip, rubbing it over the warm wetness of her pussy.

  “Yeah, put it in,” she begs me.

  I rhythmically drum my shaft against her pussy until she begins trembling with anticipation, spreading her legs wide. I bounce my dick on her tight ass and slap her with it, but I myself can’t take any more teasing. I ram my cock deep inside of her.

  “Oh my god, yes! Just like that!”

  I grab her by the hips, pulling her ass towards me. I’m not holding back now, I pound her so that her butt cheeks are smacking loudly against me. She pushes back against the wall to back up on my cock, driving it deep and deeper inside of her.

  “Fuck me, Dante, fuck me hard!”

  Her juice is running down her legs in streams. I rear my head back, sucking in the fresh air. It feels as if my heart is about to burst from my chest, my cock is throbbing with every heartbeat, and still, I drive it into her.

  There’s a rumbling deep in the belfry. The five bells of the Campanile begin to toll, and the deafening sound is shaking both our bodies. I see Nicole open her mouth, but I can’t hear her over the wall of sound.

  The whole top of the tower trembles. The rocking and tolling drives us both over the edge and carries us to climax and sweet release at the same time.

  As the bells go on droning, her screaming orgasm rings out over the city.

  Fuck yeah, let the whole world know: I fucking love this woman.

  Nicole

  I’m still basking in the afterglow of our lovemaking at the base and on top of the Campanile the next morning, but Dante seems to have something else on his mind.

  “Have you given Rome any more thoughts?” he asks during breakfast.

  He sips his coffee and looks at me with expectation over the rim of his cup.

  I smile back at him and pick up my own cup. Again, he has prepared my coffee the way I like it, just perfect. I love that he’s eager to see new things with me, but I’m not sure about going to Rome.

  “I don’t know,” I say truthfully. “Seeing anything with you is nothing short of amazing, Dante. But there’s so much right here in Venice—and a lot has happened in only three days.”

  Not to mention Luciano. Would the little pigeon like a change of scenery? It’s only been three days.

  What was supposed to be just a spring break for Allison and myself ended up as a thrilling adventure ride. Instead of taking Ryan as my man, I’ve married Dante.

  Or rather, Dante has made me marry him.

  “Of course,” he says sweetly, “it’s been a lot. But Nicole, aren’t you having a great time with me?”

  Thinking back to yesterday’s ecstasy at the top of the bell tower, I start blushing and quickly lean in to kiss him. We linger, caressing each other’s lips.

  “Yes, I am,” I whisper, “I’d enjoy it anywhere with you.”

  I gently stroke Luciano in my lap and feed him croissant crumbs from the breakfast table.

  “That baby pigeon adores you,” Dante says full of affection. “Just like I do.”

  “Aww, Dante,” I melt.

  But then, he softly claps his hands and gets Luciano’s attention. Dante extends his finger, Luciano looks at it and hops right on, just like that.

  “Hey,” I protest mildly, but I’m amazed at how the bird takes to him.

  Dante is so good at everything. I still can’t believe he worked as an animal rescuer in his life, among other things. But then again, everything about Dante is simply incredible.

  “Don’t take him from me,” I coo.

  Dante brings Luciano up to his face and starts necking the bird with his nose. But he comes over to my chair, places the pigeon back in my lap and kisses my forehead and hair, standing over me.

  “I’d never take anything from you that you’re not willing to give, Nicole. I hope you know that.”

  I touch his arm and smile up at him. He’s definitely proven that when he made love to me. I could feel his desire and how he put me at the center of everything to make this first time so special and extraordinary.

  He goes over to the window and looks out at the city.

  His eyes stare off into the distance, and I sense his restlessness. He’s seen so much more of the world than me, and he’s hungry for adventure.

  I know that, and I’m in love with that part of him.

  We wouldn’t be here together if he hadn’t been daring.

  But what if I’m ever not enough to satisfy that urge in him anymore? Won’t he go off chasing after the next adventure?

  He turns around and looks back at me.

  “You know Rome is called The Eternal City? The Capital of the World. I’d actually like to see it—with you, of course.”

  So he still has the proposed trip on his mind.

  “I was thinking, just three days is enough, and then we could come back here to Venice.” He opens his arms to point out our suite, the view of the city from the window.

  “I’d be interested in the Colosseum, Saint Peter’s Basilica, the Pantheon, and the Fontana di Trevi.”

  His excitement is contagious, and the thought of travel with Dante lifts me up. After all, don’t we deserve a little honeymoon, even more so under our extraordinary circumstances?

  But I notice how he’s been talking a lot about himself all of a sudden—it’s never been me, me, me before with Dante. Maybe deep down, he’s just as egotistic and self-absorbed as Ryan.

  “Nicole, what do you say?”

  He’s back at my chair and lowers himself to bring his face close to mine. He looks directly into my eyes, and it takes me back to that first kiss in masks in my suite.

  That made me feel I’d do anything for this man.

  “I say we do it,” I exclaim.

  He kisses my lips, and my insides are fluttering. I can’t wait for Dante to make love to me again.

  How can I compare Dante to Ryan? He’s nothing like my former fiancé who abandoned me and stood me up.

  No, Dante will always be there for me. Twice already he’s saved me.

  “At least there are no canals in Rome for me to fall into,” I joke.

  I get all flustered when I remember losing my virginity to him on the private gondola. He was full of lust and care. I’d get more aroused picturing it, but a doubt rises in me.

  What if I’m too inexperienced for him?

  I push myself out of the chair and settle Luciano back into the nest we’ve built for him. I dance over to Dante and sling my arms around his neck.

  “Thank you.”

  He tilts his head back in surprise.

  “What for?”

  “For being there for me. For being you.”

  I place my head on his shoulder and am happy to just hold him, but he breaks our embrace.

  “Let’s start packing for Rome then. We can leave today.”

  “Okay,” I agree reluctantly.


  We open various suitcases and bags on the bed. I start going over my wonderful new wardrobe to put together dresses and outfits for Rome.

  “How did you know my favorite colors?”

  “Isn’t a husband supposed to know these things?” he winks.

  “You probably just asked Allison,” I say. I don’t meant to, but it comes out snappy.

  He looks slightly hurt but puts on a smile and stands next to me.

  “I like the sundress you wore at the winery,” he says and brushes his hand against where he kissed me in-between my legs. Aroused, I look forward to more of his affection, but he turns to my clothes instead.

  “You’d also look beautiful in this one,” he points out. “And if we go to the opera, you could wear that.”

  “I don’t know,” I defy him. “I actually had something else in mind.”

  I’m grateful to Dante for the new wardrobe and everything he’s done. But I’m also painfully reminded of Ryan selecting my clothes for me and limiting my choices.

  “Of course,” he backs off. “You’re free to wear what you want. You should enjoy yourself, feel comfortable—and I know you look beautiful in all of these.”

  “Thank you.”

  I mean that honestly, but again, it comes out sounding wrong.

  While we fold clothes, Dante is all over the place, leafing through a guidebook and pulling up web pages on his phone. I enjoy hearing him mention restaurants and cafés, the sights of Rome, and the hidden gems of the city he intends to show me.

  But he hasn’t asked me if there’s anything in particular I want to see. It seems he’s already putting together a whole itinerary for our trip on the spot, and I feel overwhelmed.

  I need a time-out. I stop him mid-sentence by placing a finger on his chin.

  “Be right back.”

  I lock myself in the bathroom.

  Where’s Alli when I need her? She was so right about Ryan all along.

  She kept pointing out his true character, and I didn’t see it.

  Could Dante be the very same, and I just fail to notice it?

  They were friends for all these years, they must have something in common!

  I call Allison, but she doesn’t pick up. She’s busy with her friend, thinking I’m happily married and don’t need her anymore.

  And I am happy, I remind myself. Dante is sensual, loving, gentle, patient...

  We love the same things, he encourages me to explore my art, and he allows me to be who I really am, unlike Ryan.

  But isn’t he also controlling me? He kept pushing the trip to Rome quite strongly.

  Why? Rome is where Ryan cheated on me! In the end, was it just about the conquest for Dante, and now he wants to follow in Ryan’s footsteps?

  I can’t bear these thoughts and try to wash them away with cold water on my face. When I step out of the bathroom, I find Dante pacing between clothes and suitcases. When he sees me, he goes back to packing.

  But as I approach the bed, he drops a stack of shirts and meets me. He takes my face into his hands and looks me directly in the eyes.

  “Nicole,” he says, “I know something’s wrong. You must feel that something’s off. I understand a lot has happened in the past three days. Things have moved so fast that it must be upsetting to you. I have to admit, I’m a little overwhelmed myself. But every time I look at you, I’m reassured. We’re in this together.”

  He sounds as if he’s speaking from his heart, and Ryan never gave me intense looks like this.

  “So, in your own time,” Dante goes on, “whenever you’re ready, please tell me what it is. I’m here to help. Promise me you’ll tell me.”

  “I promise,” I say, but I’m confused.

  Is he being honest and sincere, or is he controlling me by making me promise?

  Right now, I’m not sure what he really feels.

  Dante

  “I’ve never had sex on a train before,” I suggest jokingly.

  Our own private compartment in first class is certainly big enough, with plush upholstery that would lend itself perfectly to the occasion. I’m only being half-serious, trying hard to get Nicole out of whatever funk she’s in. I certainly don’t know what brought this on.

  “I’m not in the mood,” Nicole replies in a flat voice.

  She’s got the box with Luciano next to her and is staring at the sleeping bird.

  “There’ll be plenty of opportunity for that in Rome,” I say and touch her knee, leaning forward. “Just like Venice; it’s a very romantic city.”

  Wink, wink.

  I study her face closely, but it’s as if the sun has suddenly hidden behind the clouds. She has been closed off to me ever since this morning.

  I know I need to give her time and space, but I’m also torn.

  Maybe there is something I can do to break this spell, and I want to at least keep trying.

  Our high-speed train is taking us in less than three hours from Rome to Venice. Right now, we’re just pulling out of picturesque Padua with its ancient arcades and city walls. I try to get Nicole interested in the world beyond the window, but she’s staring into space without taking any of it in.

  “Nicole, have I offended you?”

  She shakes her head. “No.”

  “It’s only three days. Everything we’ve left behind in Venice will be waiting for us when we return.”

  “I know.”

  “And look! Luciano looks content, like he’s enjoying the trip so far.”

  And it’s true—the baby pigeon has been a model traveler.

  She gives me a weak smile now, far from what she has given me these past days.

  I’m concerned, but I trust that eventually, I’ll draw her out again. I’ve managed to make her come out of her shell just yesterday in ways I couldn’t have imagined. We’ve had amazing sex on top of the bell tower, and it was all thanks to her trust in me and a daring confidence in herself she hasn’t shown before.

  “I know you’ll love Rome,” I try again. “I’m sure the city will inspire you. The history, the architecture, the art. We can go to the opera; it’ll be wonderful. The acoustics are supposed to be breathtaking—shivers down your spine, goosebumps on your skin.” I try appealing to her sensual side.

  She seems trapped in a loop of bad thoughts.

  She draws a sharp breath.

  “It’s just…” she begins, then sighs.

  I gesture for her to go on, hoping she’ll open up to me.

  “It’s just that everything was—is moving so fast. And here we are, adding more to it, speeding off to Rome.”

  “I just want it to be fantastic for you,” I offer.

  “And it is, Dante,” she says, and I get a glimpse of the old Nicole.

  But she clearly remains trapped in whatever spiral of thoughts is going on in her head, and I can’t draw her out or get her to share.

  I meant every word of what I said this morning. Things have moved very fast indeed, and I can only begin to understand the alternating emotions she must have been going through. From the anticipation of marrying Ryan and then being deeply disappointed by him to the new heights of pleasure we’ve reached together—what a ride.

  Whenever she’s ready, I’ll listen to her when she tells me what’s bothering her. I’ll help her through it as best as I can. In the meantime, I’ll be the loving husband I know she deserves.

  I excuse myself from our private compartment and head toward the dining car. I could just call one of the waiters for service to our seats, but I’ll take the stroll to the dining car as an opportunity to give her some space.

  I order water, juice, and coffee for us. When they arrange everything for me through a tablet, an idea pops up in my head, and I ask for a pen and pad.

  Back in our compartment, I see Nicole is holding her phone in her hands. I set down the drinks, but I don’t want to press her into telling me if she’s trying to reach someone.

  Maybe it’s Allison. It’s only natural that she’s
missing her best friend.

  It must be easier for Nicole to talk to her than me. Or is she missing Ryan?

  She can’t be thinking about that asshole! It would explain the sudden gloomy mood, but that time of her life is over now. He’s no longer here to treat her like shit.

  Instead, she has me. Can’t she see I’m totally different from Ryan?

  I curse myself in the inside for having been so insistent on seeing Rome. I just know that she’ll like it there. I had wanted to push her to new experiences.

  I didn’t mean to rush her off.

  When the train rolls through Bologna, I pick up the pen and pad.

  “Here, I thought you might wanna pass the time with a couple of sketches,” I say.

  “Thanks…thanks, Dante.”

  “We’re getting there. Only one more stop in Florence before we reach Rome.”

  “It’s okay,” she says.

  To my delight, she doesn’t discard the drawing materials. Instead, she places the pad on her lap. She opens the pen and keeps the cap poised between her lips.

  It’d be the most enchanting image of her, lost in thought, dreamily looking out the window, waiting for inspiration to come—if I didn’t feel so locked out of the scene.

  I was hoping that, if she didn’t want to talk, she’d at least feel the need to express herself visually in some way. But instead of her inner workings coming out in a sketch, all she does is doodle absentmindedly when she finally puts pen to paper.

  Before the journey comes to an end, I make one last effort.

  “Nicole, let’s play a game.”

  “Is this a sex thing?” she asks with a doubting look.

  “No, not at all. Just twenty questions. We take turns asking each other a question and answer truthfully. Any question.”

  She hesitates. “I don’t want to talk about myself right now, please.”

  “Not a problem. Then you just get to ask me.”

  “Okay, Dante,” she exhales.

  She smooths her clothes as if this were a formal interview and begins.

  I’m ready to answer anything and bare my soul to her. She remains polite and distant, as if we were complete strangers. She stays off any sensitive subjects, just asks about my time at animal rescue, my arts degree, how many countries I’ve seen.