Sarah & Vittorio (Royals of Valleria #9)

by Marianne Knightly

  He gave her a soft, slow kiss and stepped back. “Would you like the bathroom first?”

  She was dazed again. “Uh-huh.”

  He grinned.

  Damn the man!

  Chapter Six

  The ringing of his phone’s alarm woke him from his warm slumber. He turned it off, then inhaled a sharp breath; the soft scent of Sarah scored through him.

  A lovely scent first thing in the morning, or any time of day, really.

  He tilted his head and took in her sleeping form. She was an angel.

  His bell’angelo…beautiful angel.

  He brushed a thumb over her sleeping lips. He liked the feel of her full, pouty, pink lips. He’d liked the feel of them on his body the first night they’d been together, and he couldn’t wait to feel them again.

  Tonight. Whether or not they were still on the island, they’d be together.

  He adjusted his hard cock in his boxers, then pulled away from her and out of the bed. A cold shower was what he needed now.

  He showered and dressed. He left her sleeping in the bed, grabbed his phone, and made his way towards the kitchen. Victoria was nowhere to be seen, so he grabbed a croissant—fresh baked, from the looks of it—some coffee, and headed outside. The table on the deck was calling his name.

  While he ate, he spent more time on business. He’d already rearranged a number of appointments, but others were not so easily moved. Their first event after they left the island was a glitzy ball in Rome—another one of his fundraisers. She’d likely already have a ball gown, but he’d arrange one for her. It was a masquerade, after all, and he had to make sure their outfits reflected each other.

  “What are you grinning about?”

  His head turned at Sarah’s voice. She was rumpled and sleepy, both of which made her look incredibly sexy.

  She oozed sex appeal, even when she wasn’t trying.

  “Nothing important. Just some business. Would you like a coffee?”

  “I’ll get it.” She left and came back a moment later with a plate of croissants and a teacup. She put it all down on the table and sat down. “How long have you been up?”

  “Not long.”

  She was wearing the simple tee and shorts she’d worn to bed. Simple, yet insanely seductive. He’d wanted to peel it from her body slowly, kissing each inch of her skin as it was revealed.

  “Are you ready for a beach day?”

  He shifted slightly in his chair. It seemed his cock had awoken again. “Yes. You?”

  She nodded. “Nonna’s up, too. It’ll look even better if she’s seen with us—it’ll be like she approves of the match—so she’ll come, too.”

  “I didn’t realize she was awake.”

  She rolled her eyes. “She woke, saw you were awake, then came to wake me. So, it’s your fault I’m missing beauty sleep right now.”

  He grinned and leaned forward. “You’ll miss more sleep tonight, bella.”

  She paused mid-chew, then continued. “You shouldn’t say stuff like that. Nonna could overhear, you know.”

  “As if she’d mind.” He waved his phone in the air. “Would you like to hear the latest news?”

  She nearly choked on her food and finished swallowing. “Yes. I can’t believe I didn’t check myself when I got up.”

  He rubbed her back gently. “It’s nothing overly concerning. Shots of us arriving on the island have begun circulating. They know we’re here. Given enough lazing on the beach, I’m sure they’ll find us.”

  She nodded. “Okay. I’m okay. Well, let me get my bathing suit on and we can head out. Or do you want to change first?”

  Rio already had his suit on underneath his pants. He’d found the swim trunks last night while Sarah had been in the bathroom; they’d been left in their room with a note from Victoria. “No. You go. I’ll be ready when you return.”

  “Do you have a swimsuit? I thought you didn’t have anything to wear.”

  “Victoria has been very helpful in that regard.”

  “How?”

  “You’ll see.”

  She gave him a curious look but left.

  Thirty minutes later, he was still waiting patiently for Sarah to arrive.

  Time to see and be seen.

  Time to give them more to look at than two people descending from a yacht.

  “I’m ready.”

  He turned at her voice. And cursed. A lot. Inside his head, but it still counted.

  She was dressed in white. Of course she was dressed in white. A minuscule, white bikini, with a flimsy, sheer, useless cover-up.

  Thank Christ they were on a private beach, so no one could get close.

  The pictures, though, would show it all.

  Jesus.

  He stood, arms crossed over his bare chest, at the edge of the wooden walkway that led to the beach. He gave her a toe-to-top look. He noticed the light pink color on her toes, and the graceful arch of her foot in sandals. He watched those legs—fuck, were they long—as she walked towards him. Her calves were toned but her curvy thighs drew his attention. They had a little extra to them and were made to grab on to while fucking. He liked a woman with a little more to her. Sarah had more on the inside and out. It was a new experience to be with a woman like her, and he liked it.

  Maybe a little too much for what they were.

  His eyes lingered on the small thatch of white at her crotch, tied with innocent strings on her wide hips; it would be only too easy to untie them and fuck her hard on the sand. He watched her hips sway as she moved, and the slight curve to her belly that he loved and that fit perfectly against his hand. She wasn’t ashamed to show a curvy body in a bikini, and damn if that confidence didn’t make him hard—or harder—too.

  He caught the up and down movements of her breasts, their curves visible around the small white triangles covering them. They weren’t the pert, non-moving breasts of a young woman. No, they were the breasts of a woman older and more experienced with life, a little less perky but still sexy as fuck. Her nipples, brown and beautiful underneath the triangles, were just visible and pointed hard, just begging for his mouth to suck them, and suck hard. Her top was also fastened by strings, a halter-style around her neck and also tied around her back. He wouldn’t take her top off to fuck her, though. No, after her pussy was bare, he’d suck her nipple straight through the fabric, and watch her breasts jiggle as they fucked hard and fast. Maybe he’d fuck her first on the railing, maybe right here on the walkway, maybe in the hot sand or warm water.

  Or maybe he’d just toss her over his shoulder, take them straight to their room, and fuck her for hours on their bed. Her grandmother would just need to have dinner on her own that night.

  She stopped a few feet away, those few feet keeping her safe from him, for now. She tilted her head to the side and put a towel-filled hand against her hip. “What’s wrong?”

  His voice was clipped, short, and barely restrained. “Nothing.”

  “You look angry.”

  He almost laughed. “No, bella. I’m not angry.”

  She frowned slightly. “Are you sure?”

  “I’m horny, bella.”

  She blinked, then her gaze tracked down, down, down, to his erect cock. “Oh.”

  “I’d like to fuck you. Very hard. Right here. Right now.”

  She inhaled, her entire body—and fuck him, her breasts—rising slightly with the movement.

  He nodded to her outfit. “You call that a swimsuit?”

  She turned her head away, her lips pursed as if to keep from smiling. “Yes.”

  He grunted.

  She eyed his own swim trunks, European-style which meant short and slightly clingy. “You call that a swimsuit?”

  “No.”

  Her eyebrows popped up.

  He stepped forward, closer to her, because his resistance was dwindling fast. “If I had my way, my swimsuit would be my skin.”

  Her eyes raked him from head to toe, lingering again at his cock.

&
nbsp; “I’d fuck you on the beach, in the water, in any goddamn place I chose, if I had my way.”

  She clutched the towel to her body; it wouldn’t save her.

  He stepped closer still. “We’d both be naked, all the time. Available for fucking anywhere, anytime.”

  She stepped back, finally sensing the danger. “R-Rio, please.”

  He grinned deviously. “Please what? Please fuck you hard right here, right now?”

  She spluttered as she stepped back more, her body jumping when she reached the railing of the patio. She glanced wildly around. “The staff, the—I mean, we’re out in the open here.”

  He took his sunglasses off, tossed them aside. When the full hunger in his eyes met the rising arousal in hers, she staggered slightly.

  Fuck if that didn’t make him even harder.

  He closed the distance between them, his arms latching around her. Their bodies were skin-to-skin. Not exactly like they’d been that night at the castle, but only flimsy scraps of cloth separated them. They weren’t drunk now, seeking solace in the dark night. They were wide awake in the bright of day.

  One hand fisted in her hair. She’d pulled it up into a sort of messy bun, but he pulled that apart quickly. His other hand went straight to her ass. It was a little flat compared to everywhere else on her body, but there were benefits to a flat ass.

  Right now, for example, in that skimpy bikini, his hand could easily slip under the edge of the fabric to squeeze and caress.

  When she gasped, he swallowed it by taking her mouth again. Fuck, he loved her mouth. The hot, possessive taste of it. She took and took when she kissed, then gave and gave. It was a fucking dream.

  Her calf curled around his leg, her flimsy bottoms rubbing against his thick cock. His fingers on her ass slid further under the fabric and towards the slit in her cheeks; another bonus to a flatter ass: easier access. His finger slid through her ass, brushing her entry in the back.

  She moaned. The items she was still holding fell to the ground with a clatter and her arms vised around his neck.

  She liked it. His princess, his dirty fucking princess liked it.

  He rubbed her there a little more before his finger went lower, and lower, and lower, towards her slit in the front.

  She was drenched. Her pretty pussy begging for his cock, for his finger, or for his mouth. Maybe for all three. His middle finger was so close. It was moving through the wet towards heaven. He brushed her folds, and—

  “Wonderful!” a female voice called out. “You’re both ready for the beach.”

  Their bodies clenched, stilling automatically.

  Sarah’s grandmother.

  Fucking. Shit. Motherfucking, fucking shit.

  He slid his fingers away, Sarah mewing softly.

  He breathed his words, so her grandmother wouldn’t hear. “Soon, bella. That’s a promise. Now, step in front of me and hide my goddamn cock from your grandmother.”

  She smiled, clearly amused, and kissed him on the corner of his mouth. When she stepped back slightly, he let go of her hair and they adjusted their bodies to hide his erection.

  They finally looked to Victoria, who was dressed in stylish yet loose linen pants and a tunic, a broad, floppy hat, and sunglasses. In other words, beachwear that wasn’t a bathing suit.

  She was also standing there with a broad grin on her face.

  Fuck. She knew what she’d interrupted.

  “Shall we head to the beach?”

  Sarah stifled a giggle and his hands went to her waist to give her a squeeze. “Of course, Nonna. Perhaps you should lead the way.”

  “Perhaps I should. It is too fine a day to stay inside.” Victoria held up a straw beach bag that looked like the cheap kind, but a high-end version of it. “I’ve got plenty to keep me—and us—busy on the beach.”

  “Nonna, we just want to lay there.”

  Victoria nodded. “And so you shall. However, there’s no reason not to be productive while you’re lying there.”

  She turned to the house and gestured for some staff waiting—fuck, they’d probably seen him and Sarah, too—to follow.

  “Let’s head out!”

  They waited until the small army of servants—who bowed or curtsied to them on their way—carried food, furniture, and God knew what else to the beach—had left before speaking.

  “Christ.”

  Sarah still looked amused. “Nonna was probably watching us.”

  He rubbed a hand over his face. “Jesus Christ.”

  She rocked back and forth on her heels. “Just waiting for the right time to interrupt us.”

  He closed his eyes and shook his head. “Fucking Christ.”

  She giggled.

  His eyes narrowed. “Your grandmother clearly chose the wrong time.”

  Her cheeks tinged pink. “Well, that’s a matter of opinion, I suppose. I mean, I was, um, close…”

  He quirked a brow, then skimmed his finger from her collarbone, down between her breasts, and over her stomach, stopping just above her bottoms. “You were, weren’t you?”

  His finger roamed lightly over the fabric at her pussy. “You would have come around my finger, wouldn’t you? Squeezed it tight, wishing it was my cock instead.”

  He saw her body clench. It was the clench of a woman aroused, trying to keep her pussy from contracting, trying to keep all the wet inside, and trying to keep her body from squirming with need.

  “Rio.”

  He kissed her again because he just couldn’t help it. Couldn’t resist her and the breathy way she said his name when aroused. He pulled back, only to drop one last kiss, this one chaste, on her lips. “Later, bella.”

  She nodded and took a deep breath.

  “Oh, Sarah!” her grandmother called.

  She sighed. “I’m being summoned.”

  He smiled. “You do hate that.”

  She nodded.

  “Do you hate that in bed, too?”

  Her eyes widened.

  Fuck, she liked that in bed. This woman. His bella.

  He spoke softly. “Go to your grandmother, bella, before I do fuck you where you stand.”

  She nodded quickly and dropped down to pick up her fallen towel and a beach bag like her grandmother carried, but smaller.

  She was kneeling in front of him, his cock too close to her face. His erection had faded, but when she glanced at it, it started to harden again.

  Christ. He wasn’t twelve anymore. He knew how to handle it, how to suppress his cock and its needs. Unfortunately, he just didn’t seem to be able to do that around her.

  She glanced up at him, then at his cock, then back up at him, then back at his cock. She licked her lips—Christ!—then gave him a devious smile.

  He should have stepped back. He knew something was coming, knew it would make him hard as a rock again.

  But, instead of the worst devious thing he was imagining, she gave his cock, covered with his shorts, a chaste kiss of her own. When she stood, she gave his lips a similar kiss.

  He didn’t know why, but something settled deep in his gut. Something unfamiliar, yet completely welcome. Something he couldn’t quite decipher, but he knew it was something he wanted or needed, or maybe both.

  Because the moment was heavy, and his heart felt heavy—in a good way—he needed to do something to diffuse it, to make things normal again.

  So, as she stepped away, he couldn’t resist slapping her ass.

  She let out a yelp and jumped a little. When her face turned back to his, it was startled but not angry.

  Yes, his bella liked things dirty.

  “Just a preview, bella.”

  Her eyes widened, then darted around, as if she was checking if anyone had seen. Then she smiled and walked down the path to the beach.

  He watched her for a few moments—her hips and hair swaying, her ass shifting—before he took a deep breath, picked up his sunglasses and his own beach items, and followed her.

  He’d have to stay focused so
he didn’t get hard on the beach. Those were not the kind of pictures they needed the world to see.

  * * *

  Sarah hated beach chairs. Or, more particularly, she hated her beach chair.

  Why?

  Because it was made for one person. Which meant she was all the way over here and Rio was…well, he was in the chair next to her. But she couldn’t cuddle him from a completely separate chair.

  Nonna had two-person beach chairs. Her parents always used one when they came to the island. Alex and Rebecca used one, Marcello and Grace, Nate and Charlie, Cat and Eddie, Lorenzo and Lily…all of her paired-up siblings used one. Why couldn’t she?

  Considering the smirk her Nonna wore, she knew perfectly well why she couldn’t. “Nonna, I think we need to switch out chairs.”

  Nonna, who’d brought—via her servants, of course—her painting supplies, sat serenely painting the sea before her. “Oh? Is yours bothering you?”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Yes. It’s bothering me that you have forced Rio and me to use separate chairs.”

  Nonna kept on painting, her brush mixing two colors on her palette before pressing it to the canvas in bold, sweeping strokes. “It’s unseemly to use a single chair if you’re not married.”

  “It will look better in the pictures if we do. Besides, you let everyone else use one, and only Alex and Rebecca are married.”

  “So I do.” Nonna swiveled her head to Rio. “Do you mind using separate beach chairs?”

  “Yes,” Sarah cried at the same time he said, “No.”

  They both turned to stare at each other. He looked amused. She probably looked shocked.

  “Excellent.” Nonna gave them a broad smile and turned back to her canvas. “More green, I think. Yes, a bold, bright green mixed in with the blue. That’s what the sea looks like today.” She went back to dabbing and mixing her paints.

  Sarah whirled around to Rio, smacking him lightly on the shoulder. “Why did you say that?”

  Even beneath his sunglasses, she could tell his eyes were smiling because his lips were. The bastard. Why did he have to look so good? So completely and totally, unbelievably sexy and hot and addictive?