Royally Claimed - By Marie Donovan Page 0,49

started to shake, her mind and body reeling from his physical and verbal onslaught, but he wasn’t finished. “I want to make love to you in my house in Portugal, in my barns, my stables, my vineyards, my motorcycle, my truck, my car. Everywhere I go, I want my cock to harden as I remember how I entered you, how I pleased you. I want to remember the sound of our damp skin slapping together as I enter you, the scent of our joining, your face as you come.”

He continued murmuring to her in the soft consonants and liquid vowels of his native language, but the images he’d planted in her head were more than enough. She tossed her head back and cupped her breasts, playing with her nipples. He called out his appreciation and caressed the sensitized nub where their bodies joined. His shaft pumped inside her, hitting deeper than ever before. He kneaded her bottom, his heavy balls tightening against her, rising up to meet her.

“Ah, Julia, please…” he begged, the tendons in his neck standing out as he strained to hold back. Suddenly, she wanted his mouth on her breast and leaned forward. He eagerly captured the hard point between his lips and nipped.

The painful pleasure snapped her tenuous control and she exploded around him, her inner muscles capturing and squeezing him from root to tip. He called her name in a hoarse voice as his orgasm hit and slammed up into her, his hands gripping her around the waist as he pumped in and out of her eager body, slick and wet and as on fire for her as she was for him.

It seemed to last forever, but ended too quickly. He helped her ease off him and tucked her into his side.

Julia couldn’t help admiring his still-firm erection, dark and glossy with their juices. What would it feel like the next time? She stopped herself—she was getting too greedy for him. All his talk about bringing her to Portugal and sexing her up silly at his estate was just talk—although she would have liked to try the motorcycle. She would like to do all the things he wanted her to do, in all the places he wanted to do them. Her greedy flesh gave an unexpected throb at the idea and she shivered.

He noticed. “Cold?”

“No.” She laughed. They were both sweating, despite the cooler air under the trees. He was still hard, and his fantasy about licking him clean until he was ready to go again seemed very plausible.

A car passed on the road below, and she stiffened in alarm. “What if someone comes up here?”

He listened for a second, and then relaxed when the engine passed. “We are quite safe.” His gaze fell to her half-naked body, her nipples still hard and tight. “Although you may not be. I hear there is a sex-crazed duke wandering the islands, and he absolutely loves dark-haired beauties with perfect breasts and round, white bottoms.”

“Oh, Frank.” She pushed at his chest, inordinately pleased that he thought she had perfect breasts. As for the round, white bottom, well, she’d take that as a compliment, too. “If the duke gets caught naked in the woods, there might be a royal scandal.”

He laughed. “It has been a while since you lived in the Azores. I am a young, single man and can get away with almost anything. You’ve heard the phrase ‘Boys will be boys’?”

“Yes.” She wrinkled her nose. She’d always disliked that phrase, as well.

“The islanders would gossip if we were caught, of course, but they know a beautiful, sexy woman is staying with me on my island. I bring her to lunch and they see for themselves how I can’t keep my hands off you. It would be no surprise to them that I drag you into the woods and have my wicked, ducal way with you.” His erection, which had been fading, started to rise again.

She was getting excited again too. “Your Grace,” she teased, “I believe your wicked ways are showing again.”

“You’re right.” He shifted to his side and pulled her underneath him. “You make me insatiable, and I am going to take you again.” He settled between her thighs, his cock nudging aside her panties.

He entered her without asking, and she caught a glimpse of how his ancestors must have seduced and plundered their concubines. If they had been anything like Frank, those young women must have been as eager as Julia was to surrender.

Her knees