Page 61 of The Madman and his broken Princess
He shook his head with a look of incredulity. “I’m faithful to you. I can’t bear anyone’s touch but yours.”
I pursed my lips, confused, but his mouth came down on mine before I could say anything else. His tongue parted my lips as his hands held my face. Our kiss quickly morphed into something needy and almost desperate.
I tore away, breathless. We stood in the middle of the dining room, and I was entirely naked. What if staff came in?
“They wouldn’t dare to interrupt us,” Nestore rasped as his palms traveled down my cheeks over my throat until he cupped my breasts.
“I told them we would have dinner together as soon as you were home.”
A sharp knocking sounded, and the door swung open. Nestore tugged me against his chest and wrapped me in his fur coat, covering my nakedness.
Mindy’s eyes became saucer-like. “I apologize!”
She turned, horrified.
“Put the food on the table,” Nestore ordered in a low voice. “And next time, you wait before you barge in.”
“Of course, Mr. Romano.” She rushed over to the dining room table, avoiding looking our way.
The feel of Nestore’s strong body pressed up against my naked flesh made me long for his touch, but the shock of Mindy’s presence had dampened the first rush of arousal.
The moment she left, Nestore released me from his tight hold, but I remained where I was. I peered up at his face, wanting to memorize every sharp angle of it.
“This place feels cursed, but in your arms, I feel safe.”
“You are safe, and this place…” He looked around. “This place carries history.”
“It carries pain and misery, too.”
“You can fill it with better memories. In a couple of years, these walls will whisper with your moans and lustful cries, with your laughter and beautiful voice.”
I swallowed hard. “That’s what you want?”
He lowered his head and squeezed his eyes shut. “I want conflicting things, but I want you.”
The scent of food—meat and herbs, and starchy potatoes—carried over to us. My belly rumbled. I hadn’t eaten in too long, but pressed up to Nestore completely naked, I wasn’t sure if my need for nourishment trumped my desire for his touch.
“You’re hungry,” he rasped against my ear, then nipped my lobe lightly.
I shivered, my nipples puckering despite the heat of Nestore’s closeness. “What about you?”
“I’m hungry in every sense of the word.” He kissed the side of my throat. “Let me feed you, then let me feast on you.”
I nodded. That sounded like a plan I could get on board with. Nestore tugged me toward the dining table. “Shouldn’t I get dressed?” I asked.
“No. Stay as you are.” A bowl of steaming potato gnocchi, another of a stew of big meat chunks, and a serving platter of steamed chard awaited us.
Nestore sank into his chair and pulled me down on his lap. The feel of his strong thighs beneath my ass made my body flush with more heat. He put meat, gnocchi, and chard onto the plate in front of him, then speared a gnocchi, swiped it through the sauce, and brought it to my lips. I opened my mouth and closed my lips around the fluffy ball. It tasted buttery and indulgent. I hummed my pleasure, causing Nestore’s gaze to darken with hunger.
He speared a piece of meat and fed it to me next. His eyes burned with intensity as he fed me one piece after the other. Ipicked up another fork and lifted a piece of gnocchi to his mouth. “Now it’s my turn to feed you.”
“You fed me in the past,” he murmured. His hand closed around my knee, then slid higher, along my inner thigh. My lips parted when he cupped my mound and dipped a long finger between my folds and into me. He took the gnocchi from me and chewed slowly as his finger pumped into me. Despite my soreness, I was soaked. He never took his eyes off me as he fed me another bite of meat while fingering me at an unhurried pace. I leaned back, barely able to chew from the sensations coursing through me. His long finger massaged my inner wall while the heel of his hand pressed against my clit.
“Amelia,” he rasped as he pulled out his finger. He picked up a piece of gnocchi with it and brought it to his mouth, his eyes closing in pleasure as he groaned. “Your taste…”
I swallowed hard. Nestore met my gaze, then he dipped a finger into me again before he brought it to my mouth. “Taste yourself.”
I parted my lips, and he dipped his finger in. I swirled my tongue around it, marveling at the heady taste. He fed me a few more pieces of gnocchi and stew with his fingers before I felt hungry for something else.
