Fantasyland 03 Fantastical (19 page)

Then he drove inside.

Oh my God.

Magical.

I clutched him closer and arched my back
again, whispering, “Yes.”

He rode me, driving deep, his thrusts fast,
rhythmic, fantastic and through it all his eyes held mine, his lips
a whisper away, our breaths mingling.

I swung my calves in, pressing my heels into
his back to lift my hips and take more of him, my arm clutching his
shoulders, my hand fisting in his hair. I couldn’t tear my gaze
away from the beauty of his eyes and didn’t want to.

“Bloody hell, you’re exquisite,” he
murmured, lifting me higher, thrusting harder, driving deeper.

“Oh my God,” I whispered as his words and
his pounding started my sex convulsing.

I was going to come.

“Bloody hell,” he grunted.

“Tor –”

“Give it to me, Cora.”

Oh, he was going to get it all right.

“Tor!” I cried.

“Give it to me, it’s my right,” he growled,
a hand leaving my hip to fist at the back of my hair.

I gave it to him and he was right days
earlier.

It was an explosion. An orgasm the power of
which I’d never experienced before. There was no way to describe
it. It burned through me so completely, I was laid to waste and I
didn’t give that first shit that I’d be annihilated by a
climax.

I cried out loudly and clutched him closer
with every muscle in my body, my neck arching and then my face
shooting forward. I buried it in his neck and whimpered through the
pleasure.

When I was done, he tugged my hair gently,
my head fell back to the bed, his eyes caught mine again and he
kept moving inside me, his breath rough and labored, his neck
muscles straining.

I lifted my head again and kissed him,
sliding my tongue in, giving him everything I had to try to return
a little of what he’d just given to me.

His deep groan of climax drove down my
throat as his cock drove up deep inside me.

Unbe-freaking-leivable.

He took over the kiss, gentled it as he slid
in and out slowly then his lips slid down my cheek to my neck then
he kissed my earlobe and buried himself deep but stopped moving
inside me.

“Furthering your education, sweets,
that
is how a princess lets her husband fuck her,” he
murmured in my ear, my warm, languid, happy body stilled under the
heated weight of his and then I burst out laughing.

I felt his mouth disappear from my ear and I
calmed my hilarity when I felt his hand at my face, his thumb
stroking my cheek. My eyes opened to see his mouth was curved in a
small, sexy, contented smile and his eyes on me were warm.

Man oh man, it was happening. All of it.
Everything.

I was falling in love with a fairytale
prince.

Shit.

To cover my panic, I whispered, “I like your
castle.”

His small smile curved bigger. “I’m
glad.”

“And I like your rooms.”

“I’m glad about that too.”

Then it came to me.

This was the now. It was my now.

And it was a magical now.

And, fuck it, I was going to take it and I’d
worry about the later… later.

I sucked in breath then joked, “And, you
know, I’m always around should you have any further princess
instruction to impart on me.”

His smile turned lazy and so sexy, I felt it
everywhere.

“Good to know,” he murmured.

“I’m a fast learner,” I promised.

“I noticed that.”

“And it’s important, seeing as I’m a
princess, that I learn all about being a princess.”

Tor didn’t respond just brushed his thumb
across my bottom lip.

Nice.

“And,” I went on, “it’s important that I
learn to do those things well.”

“I’m a patient teacher,” he informed me.

“You didn’t seem all that patient ten
minutes ago.”

His lids lowered sending his sexy look off
the charts then his head lowered and he brushed his mouth against
mine but didn’t take his lips away when he spoke.

“I’ll be more patient next time.”

“Next time?”

“Yes, next time,” he replied, rolled so he
was on his back and I was on top of him, his hand lifted the fall
of my hair at the side of my head, gliding back so his fingers
cupped the back of my head and put pressure on, bringing my face
closer to his, “which starts right… about…” my lips touched his,
“now.”

Then he kissed me.

Then he took his time showing me another way
to be the best princess I could be.

And it was freaking
magical.

I Wasn’t Myself

I heard the sound of heavy draperies being
pulled back, bright sunlight touched my closed eyelids and I felt
my mouth curve in a satisfied smile.

Hell, if it was physically possible for me
to purr, I would do it.

I was on my belly, naked as the day I was
born. I felt the covers were up over my bottom, exposing my back
and I stretched out my arms, arched my back into the bed and opened
my eyes.

I was thinking of all my princess
instruction, and there was a lot of it, three and a half lessons
(the half was Tor going down on me and it must be said, the man
could use his mouth), and just how much I liked every nanosecond of
my lessons (and boy, did I like it) when I looked around the
massive room expecting I’d see a handsome (hopefully naked) man
letting in the light.

But I didn’t.

I saw a buxom woman wearing a kerchief on
her head, a long, white apron pinned to the front of her long dress
and a dour expression on her face.

Eek!

I yelped, yanked up the covers and whirled
to my back, lifting up to sitting.

She crossed her arms on her chest and glared
virtual daggers across the room at me.

“Uh…” Shit! “Heya,” I called.

“Your breakfast, your grace, will be served
in your sitting room,” she announced in a cold voice.

“Um… my sitting room?” I asked.

She stomped to a door and slapped a hand on
it then turned back to me.

“Sitting room,” she said on a near snap. “Of
course, I understand, it being
so long
since you’ve slept in
your husband’s bed, you’d forget.”

Oh dear.

“Uh…” I mumbled.

“I’ll leave you to dress but I’ll
speak
to you
during
breakfast
regarding any of your
instructions
for
my
staff.”

She said “my” in a highly proprietary way
leaving me to understand precisely what she meant.

They were not Cora’s staff. They probably
were Tor’s but they were definitely not Cora’s and in his absence,
whoever she was, they were also definitely hers.

“Um, okay,” I said softly.

“If you see one of
my
staff in the
meantime, I’ll ask you to
delay
in any
instructions
you might have
for them
until you can share them
with
me.
”

I was thinking Tor didn’t pay enough
attention last time Cora was there. I was thinking Tor was wrong
about just his men hating her because she didn’t warm his bed. I
was thinking Cora was an even bigger bitch than ever and that was
saying something.

“I can do that,” I replied carefully.

She nodded her head once.

“I’ve laid out your clothes. Those and
anything else you may need for your toilette,” she stomped to
another door and slapped a hand on it, “will be in your dressing
room. If you would be
so kind,
” she spat the last two words,
“ten minutes before you require it, pull the cord so we’ll know
when to serve your breakfast.”

“Sure thing,” I said quietly, she squinted
at me, sniffed then stomped out of the room wafting so much frost
in her wake, I shivered.

Then I looked around the room wondering
where the fuck Tor was.

Then I slithered around on the bed searching
the sides for my nightgown, found it, snatched it up, pulled it on
and darted to the privy off the bathroom thinking
thanks, Cora,
just what I need, another mess you’ve gotten me into.

* * * * *

As requested, ten minutes prior to needing
it, I pulled the pale blue velvet, tasseled cord in the dressing
room (a very pretty room, a lot smaller than the bedroom, painted a
soft yellow accented in pale blues, creams and lavenders with a
beautifully painted screen, a chaise lounge covered in lavender
velvet and a dressing table topped with a bunch of fancy bottles
and other fairytale land beautification detritus).

I found my time in the dressing room a
little nerve-wracking considering I didn’t entirely understand the
clothing that was laid out for me.

I mean, there was a lot of it. I couldn’t
possibly have to don it all.

Then I realized that it wasn’t one outfit,
but a selection.

I made my selection and noticed two things.
One, these clothes were of far superior quality to what I had been
wearing and two, they were very different than what I had been
wearing.

And they were exquisite.

So I made my selection. Then I perused the
bottles on the dressing table (mostly scent, not all gardenia, a
vast selection, so I picked something musky yet floral) but there
was some powder, blusher and even kohl pencils.

I dabbed on scent, decided against
attempting makeup and started dressing.

After pulling on another pair of lovely
panties (these pristine white), I put on a cream, silky, lacy
chemise and over that I pulled on a soft purple dress made of a
light, flowing silk. The scooped neckline was way low, (indeed,
without the lace of the chemise peeking over it, it would almost
show my nipples), the waistline was empire (thus accentuating my
breasts and drawing attention to the delicate lace) and the skirt
was mostly straight with a beautiful drape and a slit up the front
that also exposed the cream silk chemise. And last, the waistline
was heavily, and magnificently, embroidered in a darker purple with
hints of silver.

Then I slid my feet into deep purple satin
slippers.

Then I went to the carved box on the
dressing table where I’d seen some ribbons and hair clips and
selected a pair of clips that were filigree silver with purple
stones adorning them that looked like real amethysts. I pulled my
hair back on either side but let the back fall long and I looked in
the mirror.

I didn’t look half bad but I also didn’t
look like a fairytale princess

I guessed it would have to do.

I pinched my cheeks on the way to the
sitting room and when I arrived I found another pretty room
decorated in blues and peaches. There were comfortable chairs set
in front of a wide, arched, multi-diamond-paned window, another
chair with a round, button-topped, tassel-bottomed ottoman in a
corner and a small, round, spindly-legged table in the middle
accompanied by two chairs, their poofy, button-topped seats a plush
peach.

This table was laid with ornate silver,
china, a crystal vase holding a single, perfect peach rose and it
also held my breakfast which appeared to be French toast dusted
with powdered sugar and covered in sliced strawberries, something
rich, creamy and yummy-looking oozing out of the middle, coffee,
orange juice and a jug of water with actual
ice.

My stomach growled and my eyes shot to the
other thing in the room, the still dour-faced, buxom,
kerchief-wearing, apron-dressed woman who clearly hated me.

I pinned a bright smile on my face. “Good
morning,” I greeted and looked down at the food. “This looks –”

“If it pleases your grace,” she interrupted
me, “I’ll say what I have to say while you eat, you can give me
your instructions and I’ll take my leave.”

At her words, my step faltered and I
stopped.

Then I moved slowly to the table, pulled out
a chair and seated myself while saying softly, “Yes, please, that
sounds perfect.”

She approached the table but didn’t get too
close, either because she couldn’t stand being in the same space as
me or she thought I had the power to strike out and sink fangs into
her.

I poured coffee from a sliver service into a
china cup and she began.

“The last time you were here, your grace,
you made it very clear that our service was…
wanting,
” she
started.

Oh shit.

“
This time
,” she went on, “we will
endeavor to meet your
every whim
to your
exacting
standards.
I just require that you relate
those
standards
to me
prior
to your
expecting
them so
that I can educate
my
staff in what you will be
requiring.
That way, I won’t find
my girls
in
fits
of tears
or need to talk others out of leaving their employment
on the spot.
”

I stared up at her.

Holy crap! What on earth did the other Cora
do? Jeez!

“Um…” What could I say? “I was…” Shit! “Uh,
out of sorts last time I was here. In fact, I wasn’t…” Drat!
“Entirely myself. It seems that I caused some upset.”

“Indeed!” she replied tartly.

“Well…” I started, pulled in a deep breath
and leaned slightly toward her.

Instantly, her upper body reared back.

Yep, she thought I could strike out with my
fangs.

Yikes.

I decided to sally forth and finished, “I’m
very sorry about that.
Very
sorry. I was… it was…
unforgiveable but I want you to know, and please tell your girls,
that I am truly, very sorry.”

She blinked.

Then she rallied and snapped, “Fine. Now, do
you have any
specific
instruction?”

“Um… can I, uh… can you ask me that again in
a few days? I’d like to get my bearings.”

“With all due respect, your grace, no,” she
answered shortly. “As I explained, I would like to know exactly
what you require
before
you require it.”