The Prince With No Heart (2 page)

That wasn’t a request a dutiful daughter could disobey.

Today, she wore her hair tightly braided and bound back with blue ribbons. If she didn’t, it caused more trouble than she had patience for. Wishing her current life didn’t try her patience, Violet let out a quiet sigh.

“You shouldn’t have to meet that man,” clucked her maid. Always attentive to detail, Etta pulled a finger’s breadth more ruching from the slashes in the upper pouf of Violet’s sleeve. “That ruffian isn’t fit to breathe the same air as you.”

“I’ll only make things worse if I refuse to see him,” Violet said reasonably. “If he believes he’s gaining ground with me, he’ll refrain from more attacks.”

“Sir Catallan could -”

“Sir Catallan served my parents well as an advisor, but he is too old to challenge Bojik in combat. I couldn’t bear to lose a faithful friend that way.”

Etta frowned, stepping back to survey her work. “The men of this land are cowards.”

“They aren’t cowards. They simply value their lives. Bojik is as bloodthirsty as he is ruthless. Add to that his were-wolf strength, and he’s well nigh unstoppable.”

“Your honor deserves to be defended! If your blessed father knew how his knights had failed you, he’d thrash every one of their bottoms red.”

Heart overflowing, Violet turned and kissed the cheek of her staunchest champion. “You defend me, Etta. That’s all I need to sustain my nerve.”

“Hmph.” The maid wiped angry tears from her eyes. “You have the charm bag I gave you?”

“Right here,” Violet assured her, patting her pale blue bodice.

She didn’t tell her beloved servant that the magical protection wasn’t helping. The fire Bojik had cursed her with burned inside her without surcease. Unaware that he was witch as well as were-wolf, she’d laughed at him when he first started pursuing her. No princess would roll in the hay with a commoner, even if he didn’t turn into a ravening beast every month. Bojik had been more lovesick than she’d comprehended, because next he’d offered to wed her. She’d laughed at that too, a memory that pricked her with shame today.

Enraged and mortally insulted, Bojik had snatched a single strand of hair from her head, vowing she’d beg him to swive her before the cock’s next crow. Surely enough, the following morning she’d woken with a lust bigger than the moon flaming and creaming within her sex. Pleasuring herself had not eased it, nor did the fever ever completely go away. Her nipples were tight as stones as she strode down the wooden corridor toward her enemy. The constant fluttering in her swollen pearl grew stronger with every step, the swish of her layered gown a tease against her legs. The coolness of the air on her cheeks informed her she was flushing.

Her blood knew she could get what it wanted. She only had to weaken.

If her mother had been around to witness how she’d brought this torment upon herself, Violet knew she’d have commanded her to apologize to Bojik. Arnwall’s queen had been a light of kindness and compassion to all she met. Violet had many leagues to go before she could fill her slippers.

Her only consolation was that she doubted an apology would have helped.

The were-witch Bojik awaited Violet in the great hall. The large space was built of wood, and had withstood the march of two centuries. To her who had been born here, the arching wings of the ceiling trusses were the most beautiful in the world. The tapestries of hunting scenes were frayed but lovely, the black oak floors neatly swept. Her people might be poor, but they took pride in this place they lived.

When Violet had approached close enough to speak to, Bojik drew a bouquet of wildflowers from behind his back.

“Violets for my Violet,” he said.

In that moment, she wished she could love him. If she had, perhaps she could have tamed his violence. She could not doubt his feelings for her ran deep. His hope that she would return them was as obvious as the crooked smirk that hid it.

Accept him
, her inflamed body urged.
This suffering can end today
.

She touched her bodice and remembered the terror his acts had struck in her people. Shielding them was her duty. She could not give this monster more power by making him their king.

“Thank you,” she said, taking the flowers from him. “I believe I saw a pitcher of water left on the high table.”

They walked side by side, unspeaking, down the length of the soaring room. Bojik was a young man, handsome in his rough way. His brown hair was shaggy, his eyes as dark as wet bark. His jaw was strong, and likewise his broad shoulders, which were pulled straight due to him clasping both hands behind his back. He was more than tall enough for her, though not as tall as men got. The thick muscles of his thighs looked like they could pump his rampant phallus into a girl for hours.

Stop it
, Violet ordered, wrenching her gaze from the swiftly expanding bulge it had drifted to. Sadly, she was too late. The image was already burned in her brain, the soft chamois cloth so snug around his penis she had no trouble seeing it in detail. The bulbous head was caught in his trouser leg, its size truly marvelous. Sweat broke out on her forehead, the pain between her legs savage.

“Here we are,” she said a trifle hoarsely, pouring water from the pewter pitcher into a wooden cup. “I hope your flowers don’t get drunk from the dregs of wine in this.”

“Violet,” he groaned, having heard what was in her voice. Seizing her trembling hand, he pulled it to his flat stomach. His cock was an inch away, its heat beating strongly against her wrist.

Violet flattened her other hand on his broad hard chest. “You and I must talk.”

“All you ever want to do is talk. Don’t you know how wonderful you would feel if you gave in to me? We could stay in bed for days, tupping around the clock. My beastly cock is what you need, Princess. No other man can sate the terrible itch in you.”

“Because of you! You cursed me to want you.”

Bojik smiled, his dark eyes sliding in a hot caress to her tight nipples. “I cursed you to want, Violet. That you want
me
is your own weakness.”

Her anger lent her the power to fling away. “Why do men think wanting is enough?”

“It is
not
enough, but it will do for a start.”

His voice was hard, the hurt in it muted. She refused to weaken just because he had real feelings. She crossed her arms over her pulsing breasts. “My tenants lost more sheep during the last full moon.”

“And you assume that is on my head?”

“The animals’ bellies were torn out and their hearts eaten. No other predator leaves beasts thus.”

She did not quail at his narrowed gaze, nor he at her accusation. “My wolf does what it does. I cannot be held responsible.”

“You are your wolf! If you have no control, why are
your
flocks not waning? Or are your sheep not as tasty as other men’s?”

She had pushed him too far with this, though every word was true. His hands made fists by his sides, his face reddening with temper.

“You are a woman,” he said between clenched jaws. “And women have tender hearts. For the sake of this, I wrestle with my wolf’s hunger for human flesh. Do not mistake my restraint for handing you the power to turn me into a lapdog.”

“I don’t want to turn you into anything. I want you to leave me and my folk alone!”

Fire flashed from Bojik’s eyes. Grabbing her by the shoulders, he hauled her onto her toes mere inches from his body. She tried to struggle, but his strength was greater than an ordinary man’s. Annoyed by her resistance, Bojik shook her like a child.

“No!” she insisted, slamming her knee into the one spot all men were vulnerable.

Bojik cursed but did not release her. He forced her back until she lay on the scarred old planks of the high table, her long red braid spilling to the side. One iron hand was all he needed to manacle her wrists. With them stretched above her head, he had no trouble pushing up her skirts. Tremors ran along her thighs as a draft blew through her flimsy drawers.

“We are made for each other,” he said. “How long will it take you to see that?”

He made a low pained sound as his groin notched hers, his powerful body spreading her helpless legs. Violet bit her lip to keep her own moan inside. As he rocked his cock hard against her, grunting with his pleasure, the fluid that had been gathering inside her spilled out in a hot rush.

So generous a flood could not be overlooked. Bojik groaned, his mouth crashing down on hers.

Madness overtook her at the forceful thrust of his tongue. He felt so good hitching tight to her sex, far better than her fingers or any of the toys she’d resorted to lately. Kissing him back, she writhed under him, desperate to rub herself against him as vigorously as he rubbed her. She wanted to embrace him, but he held her wrists captive. Forced to urge him by other means, she sucked his tongue more strongly into her mouth.

He gasped for air, his free hand working eagerly into the slit of her linen drawers. She groaned as he found her pussy, her wetness coating his entire palm. He twitched in reaction, and panted, and slid the tip of one finger past the wild throb of her entrance.

“This is mine,” he hissed, pressing her maidenhead. “My prick shall breach it, and you
will
have to marry me.”

Though he kissed her again at once, her mind momentarily cleared.
What am I doing?
she thought.
How did he push me into losing control this fast?
With a heroic effort, she tore her starving lips from his.

“No,” she said as firmly as she could. “I do not give you permission to take me.”

He gaped at her in disbelief, his chest heaving raggedly. For a moment, she thought he’d ravish her anyway. Slowly he released her arms and pushed back from her. She sat up to chafe the bruises blooming around her wrists, her limbs shaking violently. Her reaction wasn’t fear of him so much as shock at herself. If he’d pressed her two heartbeats longer, she’d have succumbed.

Perhaps he knew this. Grunting, he dug into his breeches to shift his engorged penis to stand knob up - to make it more comfortable, she supposed. Violet’s gaze was glued to his motions, including the pass his thumb made around the crown. The little hole must have been weeping. His thumb came away shining. Bojik brought it to his mouth and sucked. Despite the horror she should have felt, Violet only ripped her eyes away when his dark chuckle startled her.

“You are not as strong as you think,” he mocked. “For now, I accept your answer, but only because this is the last time you’ll ever say no to me.”

Violet swallowed, unable to say a word. Her pussy swam with fresh moisture, its aching emptiness pure torture. As Bojik left her sitting there with her skirts flung up and her face ablaze, she feared most heartily he spoke true.

Violet knew she had little choice. If she stayed in Arnwall, Bojik would seduce her. Perhaps not tomorrow, but presumably the day after. Because of her weakness, innocent people would never be free of him.

She crawled out of bed before the sun had risen, careful not to rouse Etta, who slept in an adjoining room. Simply dressed, she packed a handful of belongings and a supply of food. These she tied in a little sack, which she slung over her shoulder.

With these humble preparations, she left to seek her champion.

A tenant’s wagon provided concealment for the first leg of her journey down Arnwall’s rocky coast. Hidden beneath a tarp with a load of turnips, she was able to travel undetected for many miles. When she saw they’d reached the Wailing Woods, she rolled out silently. Though the forest was reputed to be haunted, its trails would lead her to dragon lands. Those wild and dangerous beasts attracted knights like flies. She hoped to convince one of the braver ones to help her - the sooner, the better. She didn’t want to think how Bojik would vent his anger once he discovered she’d run away.

Regretfully, lying still so long among those turnips, unable to make a sound, had caused her cursed arousal to collect viciously.

Her thighs were damp with the slow trickle of her cream, but she forced herself to hike up her skirts and hurry into the forest along the dirt paths she found. She believed she was moving west, though her distraction made it difficult to be sure. Each time her heels struck the earth, the impact sent vibrations running up her leg bones to her pussy. She began to run, hoping perhaps she’d come. To her dismay, she only succeeded in worsening her torture.

She moaned to herself, unable to keep it in. Luckily, no one but forest creatures were there to hear.

A clearing appeared before her, encircled by towering pines. In its center, an ancient fruit tree crouched. Her attention split, Violet cried out as a root tripped her. The fall flung her headlong onto the mossy ground, a foot from the base of the dying tree. A raven the size of a cat squawked in protest, taking flight from the gnarled branches. Violet barely noticed. Her little sack had fallen ahead of her. Her fingers fumbled to untie it.

Hurry
, she thought.
Hurry or you’ll go mad
.

She fought a knot free and thrust one arm inside. Her lower lip trickled blood where a stone had cut it, and she just didn’t care. Her favorite ivory dildo bumped her fingers, the thing so thick and long it had frightened her when she saw it among the peddler’s wares. It was lifelike and smooth as satin, with twisting veins carved on its surface. Its bottom flared like a set of ballocks. Its crown, which was slightly wider than Bojik’s, dipped inward at its center in a convincing urethra.

She’d known she had to have it, no matter what it cost.

The moment she pulled it free, she rolled onto her back, lifting her hips so she could drag up her gown. She sprawled her knees out without delay. Her drawers had a slit she could reach into. At her absolute limit, she pushed the dildo’s head half an inch inside her.

Sometimes she came just from this, but that wasn’t the case today. Her body craved full penetration, and that she could not supply. The proof she was a virgin was too valuable to destroy. Crazed with lust, she squirmed wildly around the head. All five fingers of her other hand found occupation over and around her clitoris. Up and down she rubbed, and then in a hard circle. Only this could fend off the temptation to shove the dildo all the way into her.