Page 5 of Royal Hunt
“As much as I’d love to fuck you in plain sight of my mother’s favorite rose bushes, I don’t have the strength. This will have to do.”
His hands deftly undid his breeches, and that’s when it hit me. He really intended to fuck me on the stairs.
Wait. That hadn’t been the plan, had it? We were supposed to get caught in an embrace, not rutting like animals!
He sensed my tension and froze. His eyes were mere slits in the darkness, his hands still predatorily gripping my waist. My dress had ridden around my upper thighs, exposing most of me to the night air. A few stray hairs flew haphazardly around my face, frizzing with my sudden activity.
“What’s the matter? You look afraid now,” he asked, watching me carefully.
“I’m not afraid,” I mumbled back, reaching out and stroking him boldly with one hand. His eyes rolled back into his head, and his back arched as he thrusted up against me.
“Prove it,” he grit through clenched teeth, sweat breaking out on his brow.
His arrogance pissed me off. He knew I was desperate, and that he held the advantage over me. Well, I’d show him.
I leaned down and took him into my mouth.
The choked gasp he made was a sound I would cherish for the rest of my days. His fingers twisted in my braids and yanked painfully on them, but not enough to pull my mouth off of him. He couldn’t do it; I knew he wouldn’t.
I had a general idea of what Gregory liked, but I’d never had time to experiment. Usually my mouth on him had been enough to get the job done, but with this man, I felt like I had something to prove. Something to conquer. I wanted him to roar with pleasure.
I swirled my tongue over his tip, using his noises to guide my next action. I used my hands to touch everywhere around him, and he seemed to like that as well. I settled into a rhythm, knowing Gregory usually liked that. Slowly, I started taking him deeper. Faster.
My hair burned at the roots from his pulling, but I didn’t care. I liked it. I craved it. The pain made me feel powerful, like a warrior in battle.
“You’re not a princess, you’re a witch,” he moaned, his hips riding against me up and down, up and down. “Unfortunately for you, I’m something much worse.”
I didn’t have time to process what he’d said because he pushed me off him and hauled me up, grunting as cold sweat broke out on his forehead. I blinked at his sudden pallor, harshly reminded that he’d been vomiting and almost convulsing not five minutes ago.
“You’re not well, put me down—” I protested because it was clear he was struggling. He ignored me (as stubborn men did) and put my back up against the stone wall of the castle. In one smooth motion, he flipped my dress up in front of my face, his girth nudging against my entrance. I thought I’d be reluctant, but instead I was invigorated. Aroused beyond all reason. Uncaring about the world I lived in and if it crashed down around me.
“Regrets?” he asked, one hand trailing down my jaw. I snapped my teeth at his fingers, and his hand automatically went to my throat, squeezing.
I moaned.
“You dirty, good, little girl,” he purred in my ear, grabbing one of my legs and hauling it up in the air. I only had a second to breathe before he slammed into me to the hilt.
I couldn’t help the yelp that escaped my throat. It was nothing like it had been with Gregory, and yet at the same time it was everything. The way this man thrust into me like a crazed animal made me feel wanted and so incredibly feminine in a way I never had felt before.
He buried his nose against my throat, nuzzling my neck as he took a break from bucking against me. “I envy your future husband. You’re incredible,” he grumbled.
I struggled against him then, landing a punch to his gut before he pinned both of my hands above my head. My protests were only half-hearted though, and he knew it. I liked struggling. I liked fighting.
“Fuck you,” I snarled, and rolled my hips against him. He smashed his nose into mine, grabbing my bottom lip with his teeth and pulling. I kicked out with my leg, and he pushed me harder against the wall, forced to use his entire body to keep me pinned down.
I loved every second of it.
“Now hold on. I’m going to make you scream.”
My eyes narrowed in challenge. I dared him to try.
Then the real screaming started.
Three
The man dropped me, and we both tumbled to the ground. The dark circles under his eyes were worse, and his hands shook as we helped each other up. Gods, I was such an idiot. He’d already admitted he was sick, hadn’t he?
Another scream ripped through the night, and the man tried to stand after tucking himself back into his breeches. He made it two steps before he started retching again, dry heaves that produced nothing but still sent him to his knees.
