The Perfect Prince (4 page)

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Authors: Michelle M. Pillow

BOOK: The Perfect Prince
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Her round blue eyes were staring at him as if he were a striking serpent coming for her.
 
He didn’t move, letting her eyes look their fill. And she was looking. In fact, she was doing nothing else. If he wasn’t careful, this flushing innocent in front of him would faint dead away. Already he could see she had stopped breathing altogether.
 
Nadja stared. The muscles moved up his hair-roughened legs to form rock hard thighs and hips. Nestled beneath a treasure trail of hair, which climbed down from his flat navel, his blatant arousal began to slowly grow in size and strength.
 
“Are you pleased?” Olek asked, a deep growl forming in the tone. The words held much more meaning than before. They were a testament to his mounting desire. If she kept looking at him so intently, sucking at her bottom lip with such concentration, he would defy all the Gods and take her right here and now.
 
Nadja snapped her mouth shut and spun away. Her body swam in dizzying waves and she had to catch herself to keep from falling. Olek looked nothing like the men on her father’s operating table. They had been floppy. He was solid, massive … oh. Keeping her rounded eyes from looking at him again, she flung her hand frantically behind her.
 
Feebly, she commanded, “Get dressed. I told you I don’t have any interest in … that …thing.” 
 
“You are not pleased?” he said.
 
Nadja didn’t see his spreading grin and didn’t know that he was teasing her. A sound of distress left her throat and she had to close her eyes to keep her world from spinning. Hugging her arms to her chest, she bit her fist.
 
“Do I not please you?” he insisted when she didn’t answer right away.
 
Thinking she had hurt her future husband’s feelings somehow and knowing it wasn’t a great way to start off their possible life together, she said, “No, you’re built fine
… ah, finely built, Olek, really you are. It’s just … I don’t put much stock in these things. I think we have more important … oh!”
 
Olek couldn’t stop himself. He moved to nuzzle her delectably slender throat with his parted lips, licked at her sensitive flesh, and tried to nibble her ear. He was determined to prove her shy words wrong.
 
She shivered to feel him. Olek grinned along her neck. The little ornery devil inside him made him do it. When she fluttered so nervously, he couldn’t resist teasing her. With her body so close, he couldn’t stop from touching her. Many grand and wicked ideas filled his head.
 
Nadja belatedly jumped away, rubbing her neck to try and remove the feel of his moist kiss. It didn’t work. He knew it. She tried to deny it.
 
“Stop that, you one-track barbarian,” she fumed. Her harsh words masked her anxiety.That stopped him short.
 
Nadja glanced back at him, unable to help taking another peek. Forcing her eyes to roll in her head, her words were stunted, as she ordered, “Get dressed.”
 
“Choose,” Olek said instead. The one word was hard.
 
“I … I can’t choose, Olek,” Nadja answered, knowing he wanted her to choose him for her husband. It wasn’t fair. He couldn’t really speak until she granted him permission. The only way to grant him permission was to accept him as a husband. “Not yet.”
 
Nadja backed further away from him when he moved. Olek stepped with her, not bothering to cover himself from view. His naked body flexed as he stalked forward, powerful like a beast.
 
Nadja backed into near the side of the tent. She couldn’t escape. To her surprise, Olek didn’t jump her, but instead lifted his hand to gently stroke the backs of his fingers over her cheek and neck. His touch paused below her ear, near her racing pulse.
 
Continuing to caress her, he soothed tenderly, “Your name.” Nadja blinked. The feel of him was too much. What was her name anyway? She couldn’t remember.
 
Leaning over, he lightly kissed the corner of her lips. Nadja stiffened, not returning the embrace. Her wide eyes stared out at him. His dark green eyes closed to her as he smoothly brushed his dry lips over the length of her mouth in a tender probing. The pulse leapt beneath his gauging fingers. Olek could smell the beginnings of longing in the intoxicating perfume of her body. His arousal lurched, dying to answer the call of her loins. The heat from her breasts beckoned his hand lower to them.
 
The backs of his fingers moved to slowly trail over her collarbone, dancing along her quivering flesh. He felt her shiver and pant. Nadja slowly lowered her gaze, her lids suddenly too hard to hold up. Olek drew his fingers over her porcelain flesh, dipping over one breast, deep into the valley, and then over the second. He didn’t grab or caress, letting her get used to his closeness. She shivered anew, goose bumps rising along her skin.
 
He trailed his fingers over her skin another time, passing over one mound and then the other. When her breathing deepened and he could hear the heart hammering in her chest as if it was his own, he grew bolder. His finger slipped between her flesh and the silk of her gown. Starting at the side, he drew along the edge, dipping deeper with each passing second. As he reached the center, her nipple was already half erect, awaiting him. Olek took a deep, agonizing breath as he curled his finger around the nub and pulled it up to set over the top edge of the gown. Then, continuing on, he did the same with the other side.
 
Nadja’s eyes flitted up to him as his finger continued to curl in an aimless pattern, not touching the liberated centers again. When he had her eyes steadily caught in his, he deliberately looked down, letting her see that he watched her body’s reaction to him. His mouth parted, blowing hot breath onto her skin. Goosebumps rose on her flesh, her nipples budded to hard erection.
 
Gasping, Nadja pulled her head back from him to break the torturous contact, and closed her eyes. She knew that he would expect her to be a wife in all ways--especially in these ways--but she wasn’t ready. She had to have some questions answered first. She wouldn’t be choosing him blindly, not when the outcome was the rest of her life.
 
“Choose,” he urged her. To his disappointment, she hid the round gems of her nipples from his view, pulling her gown up with a fidgety jerk.
 
Nadja firmly put a hand to his chest, all too aware that he was still completely naked. He had kept distance between their bodies when he touched her, but she had a feeling that if she asked him he would close the space, giving her what every screaming nerve in her body seemed to want from him. It was as if her body recognized him completely and wanted him to fulfill it in every way.
 
“Put your clothes on first,” she whispered, her throat working in nervousness.
 
“Please.”
 
Olek smiled softly at her, seeing the seriousness to her eyes. He slowly nodded.
 
Nadja saw two braids were wound into his hair from temples to ends. The silken locks dipped to his shoulders, brushing back when he moved.
 
Nadja stood next to the tent wall and allowed herself one peek of his naked backside as he bent over, before forcing her gaze away. Her whole being shivered with the remnants of his fiery touch, heated to a level she had never thought capable. She held rigid, her eyes trying to focus on anything but him.
 
Gasping in astonishment, her gaze found the third corner. Nadja closed her eyes in trepidation. It was a low chair, much like an examination table, with stirrups for the feet and straps to hold them into place. A pillow sat on the floor, as if for kneeling. An open trunk of feathers and oils was behind it. She couldn’t see much else within the trunk but those two things were enough.
 
Looking at Olek, she saw he was watching her. He was again dressed as she had asked. He tilted his head to the chair in offering. She violently shook her head with a vehement, “No!”
 
Olek was playing with her. He couldn’t help it. This little creature fluttered so nervously that he imagined she might try to take flight like a hummingbird and dart away from him.
 
“Your name,” he said instead.
 
Nadja took a deep breath. This was more like it. Now that he was more fully clothed they could have a civilized conversation. That is, if her head quit spinning, and her breasts stopped their dreadful aching, and her eyes stopped trying to undress him from his loincloth.
 
Wishing her words held more force, she said, “My name is Nadja Aleksander.” 
 
What a strange way to pick a life partner, Nadja thought, trying to take a bite of Qurilixian blue bread. Her hands shook too badly, and she was forced to set the slice down. She had thought there would be more to the choosing than an actual line--like maybe a little talking or dancing as they got to know each other. She had to hand it to the Qurilixian men. They knew what they wanted and they obviously just took it.
 
A large buffet had been prepared, spread over the long, wooden table to which the brides were directed. It was a veritable feast of roasted two horned pigs, cheeses and blue bread, strange fruit, crusted pastries. Nadja even thought she saw white chocolate at the far end. It was too far for her to reach, and she was too nervous to ask one of the servants to get her some.
 
To her surprise, Morrigan chose to sit beside her. Glancing over, she followed the woman’s eyes to where she stared at the married couples feeding each other by the firelight. The brides, nervously eating in isolation, didn’t draw notice from the jovial Qurilixian couples.
 
Nadja picked up a silver goblet of wine, gratefully swallowing the sweet liquid the serving men had poured for her. The servants were fully clothed. Nadja saw that the style seemed to be long hair for both sexes. The women wore dresses of flowing material. The men wore simple tunic shirts and breeches, definitely appearing of a Medieval Earth influence.
 
“Where do you think they went off to?” Morrigan asked quietly. The woman sat next
 
Nadja, surprised the woman was speaking, quickly swallowed and opened her mouth to answer. She knew that the men went to prepare for the night’s events. Her words were cut off by a servant who filled her half-empty goblet.
 
“They go to make offering to the Gods,” the young man answered for her. Nadja lowered her goblet to the table when he’d finished filling it. The servant topped off Morrigan’s goblet, urging her to drink with a movement of his hand. The man had a thin scar across the tip of his nose. He scratched absently at it, as he answered, “They ask for blessing this night in finding a wife.”
 
“Oh,” Morrigan said. The servant again motioned for Morrigan to drink and she did so with a look of annoyance. The servant smiled and wandered off.
 
“Are you nervous?” Nadja asked in a hush, not touching her drink. She was too apprehensive about the size of her suitor and the wine was starting to affect her thinking.
 
When Morrigan didn’t answer, Nadja giggled in nervousness. “I can barely sit still. I think this drink has a lot of liquor or something in it.” 
 
Morrigan still didn’t answer, only continued to drink as she helped herself to blue bread. “Rigan,” Nadja began in a hush. This was too much. She couldn’t follow that gigantic man back to his tent. It was all wrong. He didn’t fit the picture in her head. She wouldn’t know what to do with a man like him. He was too big, too warrior like. She had expected someone small--more academic in nature. She had her fill of tough guys while living under her father’s rule.
 
Morrigan quietly looked over at Nadja’s pale face.
 
Nadja’s wide, blue eyes glanced around full of fear. Leaning forward, she bit her lips and whispered, “I’m scared. I think I’ve made a mistake. Do you think they would let me go back to the ship?”
 
“What’s wrong?” Morrigan asked, her eyes narrowing in concern. She leaned forward to hear Nadja’s frightened whisper.
 
“I.…” Nadja paused and shook her head. Her eyes teared in anguish as she thought of the invincible body of pure sinew and flesh. Hearing the sexual jokes around her and seeing the couples kissing on the throne chairs, she knew she couldn’t go through with it. Gulping, she managed weakly, “They’re very big, aren’t they?”
 
“Who, the men?” Morrigan questioned needlessly.
 
“Yes,” Nadja whispered. Swallowing over her tensely thudding heart, she began to pant. The more she thought about it, the more terrified she became. Surely a man his size would injure her. Her head began to spin. “Do you think they will … will hurt us? They seem bigger than most Earth men.”
 
Morrigan looked at the woman in surprise. “Nadja, have you been with a man before?”Nadja shook her head, embarrassed. Her father was a doctor. Every morning up until a month ago she had been given medical checks. If her virginity had been compromised he would have known and would have been livid. Whoever took it would’ve ended up at the wrong end of her father’s scalpel and she’d have been locked in punishment for the rest of her life. She’d barely even been kissed, too afraid the medic unit would report the foreign germs on her mouth.
 
“Not even a droid?” Morrigan insisted.
 
“No,” Nadja gulped. Her eyes roamed over the fluttering tents in the distance, unable to meet the woman’s probing gaze. Morrigan seemed very adept at reading people.
 
Shivering, she lied, “I was always too embarrassed to go to the clubs and try one. But I’ve seen pictures. Do you think that these guys are … shaped differently?”
 
“I haven’t given it much thought,” Morrigan admitted. “I think that galaxy law requires the species to be, uh, physically compatible before they are matched up.
 
Otherwise, the marriage would do no good. Besides, I hate to sound crass, but the whole point of this is so they can propagate their species.”
 
“I suppose,” Nadja answered, not relaxing one bit at Morrigan’s cold view of their situation. She gripped her goblet and began to gulp more of her wine. Without having to be asked, a servant was right there to refill it for her. She gulped that cup too, much to the man’s obvious pleasure.
 
“Did you ask any of the others?” Morrigan inquired when the servant had retreated down the table. “Have any of them said anything about not being with a man before? Or maybe having been with a man?”
 
Nadja was confused and shook her head in denial. “We’ve never discussed it.”
 
“It’s really not that big of a deal,” Morrigan insisted with a smile. Nadja barely saw it. “I hear several of the women have had their virginity replaced. So it can’t be that bad, can it? It hurts for a second, but no more than the series of shots we got on the way here.” “I suppose you’re right, though I hadn’t heard that,” Nadja admitted.
 
Nodding her head in agreement, she tried to calm down. It wasn’t working. She was too scared. She had to go back to the ship before it was too late. She had money in her bag and could easily pay for a return trip. Once there she could find another ship to take her somewhere else--anywhere but here.
 
“Oh!” Nadja gasped and stiffened. She was too late. The men had arrived.
 
Instantly, she picked the green-eyed barbarian out from the crowd. It was as if he sensed her, finding her along the table and coming for her directly. The wine swirled in her head and she again swore she was going deaf.
 
Where there had been silence over the festival grounds, music again filled the air.
 
Its low rhythm was as sweet as a warm spring sun and as gentle as the wind’s caressing kisses. One by one, the prospective brides fell silent. As they watched the Qurilixian bachelors in wonder, the handsome warriors made their way to stand below the tables.
 
Their eyes scanned and quickly fixed upon the woman of their choice.
 
Nadja gasped, her heart fluttering, as the green-eyed giant of a man came before her. The crystal pulsed, doing something to her will. It was like a fog descended on her brain, consuming her with liquid and fire, tearing down her inhibitions and resolve. She tried to fight it. She tried to turn away from those probing green orbs. It was no use. He was there and he was looking at her as if she already belonged to him.
 
The man leaned forward and her breath caught. When he smiled, a light-hearted ardor that drew her in, she nearly swooned. Her fingers began reaching for a drink, anything to keep her from jumping up and discovering if his lips were anything like she imagined. Her hand never made it. His mouth parted to speak and her hand fell down to the table.
 
“I am Olek, bride,” he whispered, making sure there was no mistake about why he was there. He had come to claim her. “Come.” Nadja didn’t refuse. How could she? Those eyes, they commanded her with a soft magic. She saw kindness in them and relaxed. Maybe his build meant he worked hard for a living. He could be a carpenter or a farmer. He might not be a warrior at all.
 
Thought helped to calm her fear. When he smiled his seductive smile, her fear returned tenfold.Olek took her hand in his. His warmth seeped into her suddenly chilled fingers, shooting sparks of snapping fire up her arm. She let him lead her around the edge of the table. Magic filled the air with a spellbinding force, controlling her as she dutifully followed Olek’s command. Her body shivered in anticipation, but the feeling was overshadowed by an intense fear of not being able to live up to his expectations. Surely a man like this would be used to women in his bed. Would he expect her to know what to do? Would he be ashamed of his choice when she didn’t even know how to return his kiss? She walked silently behind him. Given ample view of his strong backside, her mouth went dry and she couldn’t look away. The muscles in his hard thighs pumped with each of his graceful steps. Her eyes followed them up as his flesh dipped beneath the loincloth. She had seen naked men before when she watched her father perform surgeries.
 
She knew that men's privates came in all different shapes and sizes. She hoped this one came small. Looking at his broad shoulders, so intimidating, she swallowed. Very, very small. He took her through the campsite, past a row of pyramids. Nadja could see the other women ducking into the various tents with hardly a protest. She heard laughter drifting about on the breeze from the married couples in their own celebration. The fire still burned brilliantly. Music played faster, encouraging the couples to dance in joyous celebration.
 
Suddenly, Olek stopped next to a green tent and Nadja almost bumped into him.
 
He turned, giving her troubled expression a laughing grin. He tilted his head to the inside of the tent. Softly, the burr of his accent rolling over her in a wave, he urged, “Come, bride.” Again, she couldn’t deny him, moving to dip under the tent’s green flap, which he kindly held up for her. However, as she drew near him, she smelled the warm oil on his glistening skin, mixing with the natural scent of man. Nadja was sure this was as close as she had ever been to a conscious man before--especially one so inadequately dressed.
 
Weakly, she faltered, glancing up into his eyes. Before she knew what was happening, a strong hand was coming up to her face, gently cupping her cheek. The touch was fire to her flushed features. Her lips parted with a ragged, scared gasp. Olek took it as an invitation he wouldn’t dare to refuse.
 
Nadja almost screamed in fright when he tried to kiss her. Dodging under his arm, she darted inside the tent. Olek grinned, though his eyes were baffled. His look resembled that of a stalking beast readying to go after his prey, relishing the anticipation of the hunt.
 
He absently let the tent flap fall shut behind him as he followed her inside.
 
Nadja froze mid-step as she looked around. The red earth floor was covered completely in soft furs. It cushioned her feet beneath her slippers. Below the center point 
of the pyramid was a high platform bed, which required a step to climb onto it. Silk hung down around the sides, stirring delicately in the torchlight like soft white clouds.
 
Nadja recoiled from it as if it was covered in poison. It hit her how intimate this night really could be. Stumbling back, she bumped into a wickedly hard chest.
 
She jolted in fright, scurrying away from the solid, warm muscles. Her eyes spun, taking in the three corners. In the first, there was a bath drawn, the steaming water coming out of the basin. A sweet perfumed scent rose with it. Folded towels, bath oils, and rinses were neatly arranged at the side.
 
The next corner had a table full of chocolates, fruits, and cream sauces. One long bench with cushioned seats went along the side, resembling a couch. An earthen wine jug was set in the center. Feeling the heady consequences of the liquor she drank too much of at the feast, she turned her head away.

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