Series: Willow Winters
Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 72146 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72146 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
I force myself to stroke slowly, though I want to speed my fist along my shaft and come. My balls are too tight. I want her too badly. And it is even worse that the innocent Princess Cora wants me.
And she wants me in such a filthy way. Roughly and savagely. I would never have considered stealing her from the palace. It’s one thing to attend court without many people taking notice of my presence. It would be another to carry the crown princess in my arms out of the castle, through the village, and away.
She may not think she means much to the people of the land, but she does.
I would give her that fantasy, however. If I could do it, I would give her the fantasy she’s having now.
I can already imagine how her lips would part as she came on my cock.
I don’t approach. I drink in the sight of her writhing under the covers. Her legs are spread so wantonly that I can almost see her pussy despite the blankets. She’s tangling herself up in them, panting with her lips slightly parted, and it takes a great deal of concentration to keep my strokes even and quiet. I cannot give myself away with a sound.
I don’t want to come before she has, either.
And Cora is fighting off her orgasm. She sighs and gasps and moans, tipping her head back on the pillow.
“Oh, not yet,” she whispers, and I nearly come at her words in spite of myself.
Cora hums and breathes deep, trying to relax, though by this point it is impossible. Her body trembles with the need for release. If I were in bed with her, I could show her what she really wants.
Perhaps he could control me in bed. Isn’t that what she said?
Princess Cora had been so forward with that joke that I know it was not really a joke. Now she’s trying her hardest to play both roles, but if I were there with her—
I could show her how pleasure is multiplied when someone else controls it. When I control it. Guilt consumes me. This is wrong. So fucking wrong.
I hold my breath, willing my own pleasure not to end too soon. I never could have imagined how fucking perfect she could be. I don’t know whether it frustrates or arouses me that we are so similar at this moment, Cora and me. We’re both trying to make it last, but she doesn’t know—she has no way to know—that one orgasm doesn’t mean there can’t be more for her. That pleasure can only intensify. That if I had her in my arms, and in my bed, I would control her just how she likes, until she’s so spent that she cannot imagine another orgasm.
Cora turns over and whimpers into the pillow, her bottom lifted under the covers and her hips rocking into her own fingers. I let myself get a little bolder, a little harder, with my strokes. My shaft is slick with precum. It’ll happen soon, whether I plan it or not, so I brace one hand against the outer wall of the castle.
“No, I can’t,” Cora mumbles into the pillow. “No, I can’t. Don’t make me. Please, I’ve never…I’ve never been touched before, no one has ever—”
“You don’t have a choice,” I whisper.
Cora cries out again, her whole body shaking as she comes. I’m watching her so closely that my own release seems like an echo of hers.
Chapter 5
Cora
When I wake in the morning, the things I did and the things I whispered seem like a dream. And for it to be that dream! Such a dark and dangerous stirring of thoughts it was.
Yet while I soak in my bath, steam rising from the rose-scented water, I understand that there is a boundary between being truly kidnapped and being stolen as part of a shared desire to create another world together.
And still, it excites me.
Alice comes to hand me a clean cloth. I take my time washing the back of my neck and my ears and my throat. She brings another pitcher of water and wets another cloth for me to wash my face. A third cloth for the rest of my body. Then she leaves me to soak some more.
My bathing room has many windows overlooking the royal forest, but they are so high that no one can see in. Even in the winter, there are enough evergreen trees to shield me from view if a hunter or guardsman were to look up.
I look down on the lands below me.
Other than a few more wrinkles in the sheets, there is no evidence of what I did last night. No one ever needs to know.
I never need to do it again, if I do not want.
But I do want. I stretch my toes against the far edge of the tub, feeling new heat gather between my legs. It is slightly different from the heat of the bathwater. I did not know I would be able to sense it.