Filthy Rich Prince: A Filthy Rich Billionaires Book Read online

  “No,” she gasped as his mouth closed around an aroused nipple. His fingers slipped beneath her panties, found the sensitive heart of her. She was hot and wet and embarrassed.

  “You are hot for me, Lily.”

  She gasped as he stroked her pussy. “Nico, no.”

  He stilled and lifted his head, his eyes searching hers. “Tell me to stop, right now, and I will do so. But if you don’t say the word, Lily—” He pinched her clitoris softly, eliciting the most delicious sensation. “If you don’t tell me to leave this instant, there will be no turning back, capisci? You will be mine.”

  Her lungs stopped working as she gazed up into his handsome face. He was heart-stoppingly beautiful, and he was about to make love to her. Or was he?

  “I want you to stop,” she blurted. Because if she didn’t say it, if she didn’t make him cease this sweet torture, he would humiliate her once more. She knew he would.

  Nico looked at her in disbelief. And then he swore violently. But his hand slid from her panties—

  Until she caught his wrist. She wasn’t even aware she’d done so until he looked at where she’d grabbed him.

  His voice was somewhere between a purr and a growl. “What’s it going to be, principessa?”

  He’d given her a choice. Lobbed the ball into her court—and she was messing it up badly. Her heart pounded, her vision tunneling in on the man above her. She could see nothing but him, nothing but his piercing eyes and sculpted features. But she couldn’t let him go. She didn’t want to.

  “Tell me you want me,” he commanded.

  “I-I can’t.”

  He reversed the progress of his hand, slipped between her folds again. Her eyes closed as he stroked her.

  “So wet, Lily. So ready for me. Why would you want to deny us this?”

  “You denied us first—”

  “I thought you needed more time. I thought I’d pushed you too fast. Clearly, I was wrong.”

  One finger entered her, then another. Slowly at first, then faster. Nico fucked her thoroughly with his fingers. But she wanted his dick. She just couldn’t say it. It terrified her to say it.

  “Nico—”

  He made a sound low in his throat. “Do you like this?”

  “Yesss.”

  “Do you want more?”

  “I—yes.”

  “Good, because I am through waiting, tesoro mio.”

  She moaned in protest when he lifted away from her, but he unsnapped his jeans, shoving them down just enough to free himself. Lily could only stare as his cock sprang free. He was more than ready for her. It was long, thick, and hard—and she couldn’t wait.

  Nico lowered himself onto her again, hooking his fingers into her wispy panties and dragging them down. She’d forgotten all about them while she’d devoured his body with her eyes.

  She knew this was it. He was done with preliminaries, done with the give-and-take dance that had gotten them to this point. There was no turning back now. Fear gripped her—and anticipation.

  He lifted her hips with one broad hand beneath her bottom and drove into her.

  Lily cried out from the shock of it. This was what she’d wanted from him earlier, this incredible pressure and tension, the sweet aching beauty of male possession. But not just any male—this male, this gorgeous, amazing man.

  “Lily, sei dolce come il miele,” he groaned.

  She had no idea what he’d said, but it sounded beautiful.

  “You feel so good.” His eyes were closed, his head tilted back. “I want to stay like this…”

  Lily wrapped her legs around him, lifted herself until she could catch him around the neck and pull him down to her. She had to taste him. “Kiss me,” she begged. “Please kiss me, Nico.”

  His mouth fused to hers, hot and wet, his tongue plunging into the moist recesses of her mouth to tangle with her own. He moved his hips, sliding away from her while she tried to hold him tight.

  And then he plunged forward again and her scalp tingled. Everything tingled. Every last nerve ending, every last cell. Her entire body was alive with the sensations of what he did to her. What they did to each other.

  Because Lily was not passive, not this time. She might not have had sex again until this moment, but she’d had a baby and she was no longer naïve. Her pleasure was as much her responsibility as it was his.

  She ran her hands down his sides, cupped his ass as she lifted her hips to him. Her body was ready for him though she would probably be somewhat tender when it was over. And she really didn’t care. She pushed up into each long stroke, meeting him at the top, the pressure more exquisite each time.

  “Lily,” he groaned. “What you do to me, ah Dio…”

  “Don’t stop, Nico. Please don’t…” She squeezed her eyes shut. “I can’t… can’t last… it’s been so long…”

  He growled something in Italian, something hot and dark—and then he let go of his control, fucking her harder. Soon they were both beyond restraint, slamming into each other urgently. It was raw and hot, and she loved every moment of it. She’d been a virgin the first time, but she’d had two years to think about what it would be like now. To imagine the pleasure she could feel with the right man.

  And she did feel pleasure. So much damned pleasure as she rediscovered what it felt like to have a man inside her instead of her own fingers.

  As the tempo increased, he buried his face against her neck, his breathing as ragged as her own. She could feel the crisis coming, hovering on the edge of her senses. This orgasm was going to be so much more complete than the one she’d had earlier. That had been blissful, shocking—but this, oh, this. It was going to be epic.

  Her breath caught as the first dark tendrils of it uncoiled inside her. Nico seemed to sense what was happening and angled her hips higher. The pressure changed as he stroked into her, intensifying—

  Lily exploded into a million bright lights, gasping as she fell apart. Nico followed her, his hips grinding into her, a broken groan spilling from his lips.

  A groan that sounded like her name.

  Long minutes later, he pushed away from her. She mourned the loss of him but welcomed the cool air where it flowed over her sweat-dampened body. She lay with her eyes closed, one hand flung over her face, trying to process everything that had just happened.

  In two years, she’d not felt even the slightest stirring of desire for any man. Nico was the one who’d filled her dreams, who’d starred in her fantasies, the one who’d fathered her precious child. She told herself not to make it into more than it was. It wasn’t love. You didn’t love a man because he knew how to fuck like a god. Or because he’d fathered your child during a one-night stand. Those things didn’t erase everything else that had happened.

  “Dio, Lily, you feel amazing.” Nico moved down her body. He ran his tongue across her belly and then spread his fingers over her abdomen. “These marks—are they from the pregnancy?”

  She tilted her head up. He traced a fine, silvery stretch mark. It was so fine she was surprised he’d noticed. But then it wasn’t like she’d been naked for anyone since having Danny. How would she know what a man might notice?

  “Yes.”

  He bent to trace it with his tongue. “I’m sorry I did not get to see you carrying my child.”

  The comment made tears press against the back of her eyes. Until his fingers fanned over her possessively, stroking her sensitized skin. His dark head moved up her torso, and then his mouth fastened on a distended nipple. Lily clutched him to her, the sweet tension in her body nearly unbearable.

  She hadn’t yet recovered from the last orgasm and already she wanted him again. He made her feel special, cherished. Hot and achy.

  He suckled her other nipple, advanced and covered her mouth, his tongue dipping inside to tease and torment.

  “We should move to the bed,” he murmured between long, deep kisses.

  He shucked out of his jeans, then picked her up and carried her into his room. He kisse
d her until she was putty and then took down to the bed, sliding deep inside her as she wrapped her legs around him.

  “You feel so good,” he murmured in her ear. “I want to stay like this for hours.”

  So did she.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Nico couldn’t breathe properly. Every lungful of air was filled with the sweet scent of the woman beside him. She smelled like flowers and spring rain with a hint of cinnamon.

  She smelled like the Lily he remembered.

  He gently traced the line of the sheet where it lay above the swell of her breasts. He ached with the need to lose himself in her once more, but he knew he should not demand it of her. Not again tonight.

  She lay with her head to one side, her eyes closed, her chest rising and falling evenly. They’d both fallen asleep after the second time, but now he was wide awake and wondering what he should do.

  If she’d been one of his mistresses, he’d have dressed and left her apartment. It wasn’t that he never spent the night with a woman—he often did—but just as frequently he felt the need to return to his own home and enjoy his solitude. Tonight, he wanted no such thing. He wanted more Lily.

  “Nico,” she breathed.

  “Yes, tesoro mio?”

  “I should check on Danny again—”

  “I went a little while ago. He is sound asleep. As you should be.” He threaded his fingers between hers, kissed her knuckles.

  “You’re not.”

  “I do not need much sleep.”

  “Maybe our son gets it from you then,” she said, yawning. She turned into him and he wrapped his arms around her, pressed her naked body against his. Why had he waited so long to take her to his bed? He dipped his head, touched his lips to her shoulder.

  It was far more pleasant this way. He flexed his hips against her, and her breath caught.

  “Oh…”

  “Good oh or bad oh?”

  “Definitely good. But Nico,” she said, a note of worry creeping into her voice.

  “Yes?”

  “I’m not sure I can do it again tonight. It’s, um, been a while.”

  He tried not to react, but he felt his body stiffen as he wondered exactly when the last time for her was. And who it was with. “I understand, cara.”

  “Do you?” she said, her hand resting on his cheek. “Because that felt a lot like you didn’t.”

  He turned his face into her palm and kissed it. “Has it been very long since the last time?”

  She laughed. “Yeah, two years.”

  He stilled. Blinked. She could not be telling him what he thought she was telling him. “I don’t think I heard you correctly.”

  She kissed his chin. “You did. You’re the only man I’ve ever been with.”

  A fierce feeling of satisfaction permeated his entire being. She was his. Had only ever been his. “How is this possible?” he asked. “Sei bellisima. Any man would kill to have you.”

  “I never found another one I wanted,” she said very softly.

  “You do me much honor,” he replied, uncertain what else he could say to express how grateful he was for the gift of her innocence and trust two years ago, and for her confession now. It was primitive of him, but he liked knowing he’d been the only man to taste her. To fuck her.

  She laughed. “Oh Nico, you make it sound like we’re living in the Middle Ages or something. For a man who knows how to do the things you do with your tongue, you sound awfully formal and prudish just now.”

  “Do I?” He grinned at her. “Perhaps I should remind you how wicked I can be, yes? I’m sure I can think of a few things that won’t abuse your tenderness.”

  “I’m counting on it,” she replied breathlessly as he rolled her to her back and began another thorough exploration of her delightful body.

  Lily had no idea what time she woke, but when she did she found that Nico had made her breakfast again—only this time he served it to her in bed. When she finished eating, he ran her a bath in the gorgeous sunken tub, shedding his wet clothes to join her after she playfully splashed him.

  She climbed on his lap, facing him, her legs wrapping around him. Their bodies touched everywhere, but the spot she focused on most was where his hard cock pressed against her pussy, teasing her with erotic promise. He was engorged, ready for her, yet he made no move to enter her in spite of the way she rubbed herself against him.

  His blue eyes were mischievous as he grabbed a sponge and squeezed it over her breasts.

  “Nico,” she whispered with a groan. Her nipples were tight little points that seemed to tighten even more when the air drifted over her wet body. “Stop teasing me.”

  He laughed, a low chuckle in his throat. “All in good time, my wife. Dio santo, you are beautiful when you bite your lip like that. But you will not entice me to rush this.”

  “It’s not rushing to get to the good parts.”

  He moved the sponge lower, beneath the water. When his fingertips skated over her clitoris, she gasped.

  “Beautiful,” he murmured.

  She wasn’t, but she loved to hear him say she was. It hit her suddenly that she didn’t just love what he said about her. She loved him. Nico Cavelli, the man who’d given her a sweet baby boy. The man who’d been afraid a few short days ago to pick up his son because he hadn’t wanted to do anything wrong.

  That man was a man like any other instead of just a lofty prince. He was the same man who teased her now, who made her breakfast and made love to her as if he couldn’t get enough of her.

  Her heart thumped a warning. Falling in love with him was a mistake. He would hurt her eventually, just as her father had always hurt her mother. They were too different, and she was too boring to ever capture his attention for long. He was a prince, one day a king, and she was nobody.

  “You are thinking too much, Liliana. I can see it in your eyes.”

  She tried to recover. “I’m thinking about how soon I can get you inside me.”

  But her brain was running away with so many thoughts. Nico was not like her father had been. He had honor and dignity. He loved their son, he cherished her body, and he felt deeply about many things. He was capable of loving her—but even if he didn’t, he would not abandon her to raise their son alone. He wouldn’t leave her for long stretches of time and then return and ask to be forgiven only to repeat the entire cycle in a few months or years.

  “You are insatiable, cara. I quite like it,” he said, continuing to run the sponge over her body with deliberate slowness.

  She reached beneath the water and wrapped her hand around his cock. “Do you like this?”

  He growled—and then he dropped the sponge and fused his mouth to hers. He gripped her hips and lifted her higher, until he could slide into her body. He groaned as she sank down on him. She gave the groan back to him when he thrust the rest of the way inside her.

  So good.

  “I am yours, Liliana,” he said fiercely. “Do with me what you will.”

  Hers.

  She’d never felt more powerful in her life as she began to move her hips. His head tilted back on the edge of the tub, his eyes drifted closed, and joy suffused her. She rode him slowly at first, drawing out the torment for them both. But then she needed more, so much more.

  So did he if the way he stiffened and gripped her hips was any indication. Lily moved faster, riding him like a wild thing, gasping and moaning as water sloshed over the rim of the tub. Neither of them cared enough to stop though.

  “You. Feel. So. Good,” he said. “So hot. I’ve never…”

  She wanted to know what he meant to say.

  “Nico,” she gasped as her body began to shudder. No, not yet. I want to know what you were going to say.

  Frantically, she changed the angle, slowing her thrusts as if she could stave off the inevitable. Nico’s eyes opened, burning into her. Burning for her.

  “Take me, Lily. Take all of me,” he growled. He slipped his hand between them and circled her clit with his
thumb. “I want to watch you come.”

  “Nico,” she cried as she shattered, unable to hold the tide back a moment longer.

  Her heart was full of all the things she felt in that moment and dared not say. Her feelings were too new, too raw, and she wasn’t yet sure how to deal with them—or what they meant.

  Nico held her rigid when she would have folded against him. He drove into her, drawing out the exquisite pleasure for them both. When Lily came a second time, he was with her, his groan mingling with her sharp cry.

  He held her close, his fingers dancing up and down her spine, and Lily shivered.

  “I’m sorry,” he said long moments later when her heart rate had almost returned to normal. “You make me lose control when I should know better.”

  “I’m fine, Nico. I wanted this as much as you did.”

  His gaze searched her face. “And yet you are crying.”

  Lily blinked, feeling the moisture on her cheeks for the first time. She was crying, wasn’t she? But they weren’t unhappy tears. “Everything is just so… overwhelming.”

  “Si, this is true,” he said, tucking a lock of her damp hair behind her ear. “There have been many changes for you.”

  “And for you.” She cupped his face in her hands. “I’m sorry, Nico. I should have contacted you when I found out I was pregnant. I made a mistake.”

  His gaze was troubled, but then it seemed to pass. “Perhaps we will have to make another baby, yes? A little brother or sister for Daniele.”

  Lily’s heart ached with happiness. “He would like that,” she said a touch shyly. “I would like that.”

  Maybe it was all happening so quickly, but they were married, and she was his princess. Having children was expected. Besides, she wanted them. Not too many, but three or four would be nice.

  “Would you really?”

  Her heart thumped. She knew he didn’t love her yet, but he could. Someday. “Yes.”

  Nico’s grin was genuine. “It is my solemn mission, cara. I shall rise to the occasion—just as soon as I recover from this one.”

  They returned to the city that afternoon. Lily watched helplessly as the journey seemed to weigh on Nico with every mile. The closer they got, the less he spoke, the less he smiled, the less he seemed like the same man to her. Lily concentrated on the white buildings and red roofs in the distance, her stomach churning. Maybe it wasn’t logical, but she felt as if Castello del Bianco were a tangible force drawing the life from her husband—and she didn’t know how to fix it.