The Prince With No Heart (9 page)

“It isn’t just that I’m a virgin. My fairy warned me we’d both go mad if you did.”

“As opposed to how sane I’m feeling now?” He cursed and rocked faster, his hand now clamped on her bottom, keeping her exactly where he wanted. Since he’d traded kissing her for breathing, she could see the veins on his neck. They stood out sharply, muscles straining as he ground himself into her. Arousing as this was to watch, it wasn’t the strongest source of her excitement.

The flare of his penis was strafing her swollen pearl, pushing the hood off and on each time he dragged over it. Sensations built within her, each one better than the last. He was so thick he really spread her labia. Eager to urge him closer, Violet slid her hands down his back to his hindquarters. These muscles were as strong as the rest of him, compact and rounded as only a fit man’s could be. Their skin was velvety, the lash marks from the trees stopping at his waist. She couldn’t seem to resist pulling his cheeks apart.

Augustin grunted when her fingertips found the tight pleats around his hole. She traced the whorl, then pushed curiously at it. A moisture that wasn’t hers sluiced from his cock onto her. She wasn’t certain, but she thought his shaft had just jerked longer.

“Do you like that?” she asked breathlessly. “Sometimes, when I’m pleasuring myself, I like to push something into me from behind.”

“Christ,” he said, but he wasn’t cursing in disapproval. He grabbed her hand and wedged it between their rubbing groins. “Wet your fingers. I want at least three of them shoved in me.”

Oh, what he did to her with his orders! She let him coat her fingers in her juices, then put her hand back where it had been. Afraid to take him completely at his word, she pushed two past his tight entrance.

“No,” he said harshly, his head dipping down to hers. “Don’t be so careful. Give me what I asked for.”

She kept her eyes on his as she did, wanting to be sure she didn’t hurt him. His pupils expanded and his breath sucked in. His passage was smooth as satin and very hot, easing around her as she pushed three fingers past the first tight inches.

“That’s it.” His voice was suddenly deeper, as if his chest had loosened with enjoyment. “Rub me all the way in and out. I like that the same way you do.”

He exhaled in pleasure as she gently pumped, his hips starting to roll into her again. That felt as good as before, but Violet had a new goal in mind.

“There’s a spot I heard about,” she panted. “Only men are supposed to have it. I don’t think my fingers are long enough to reach.”

The prince’s nearly silent chuckle shook his broad shoulders. “I know the one, princess.” He moved his left knee up and to the side, scooting her farther down him at the same time. “Try to reach now.”

She knew when she found the place because his spine stiffened like a bow and his penis pressed into her so hard she had at least half an orgasm.

He groaned something that might have been
again
. Violet decided she ought to do the same thing faster and harder. That’s what she’d have wanted in his position.

The prince seemed to agree with her choice. Proving himself more limber than she expected, he arched to her and sealed his mouth over the peak of one breast. His tongue and lips felt even better than his fingers. Hot gold wires stretched inside her as he suckled. She gave a cry and came all the way.

He moaned with her in his mouth, his pull on her nipple as basic as a child’s. Sophisticated reactions must have been beyond him. She continued to pump her fingers, working that extra gift from Eros as steadily as she could.

Finally, it was too much.

“Fuck,” he gasped, his eyes squeezing shut as his big body heaved closer. “
Augh
.”

Heat spurted up her belly at that last cry, three forceful jets that somehow drove her excitement higher. When the last jet ceased, Augustin pushed carefully off her, hanging over her on his hands and knees. Like her, he was breathing hard.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked.

She shook her head. Her hand had pulled free when he rose from her. The way he was breathing - and
flushing
- made her curl it into a fist.

“That was good,” he said, his voice so gravelly she shivered. “You made me come very strongly. You have a gift for pleasing a man.”

Violet’s nipples were hard as diamonds, throbbing violently at his words. Augustin’s gaze drifted down to them. A shadow moved beneath his belly, his recently pleasured cock stiffening. She sensed him fighting a groan.

“I want more too,” she blurted in confession.

* * *

She was going to kill him. He should have been offended by the thought that her lust was magically wound up. Pride dictated that a woman’s desire to swive him ought to be due to him. Rather than put him off, however, her affliction strengthened by tenfold the other reasons he wanted her. It had taken every shred of control he had not to shove his cock into her pussy a hundred times. The very idea obsessed him. To push himself into that tightness, to feel her juice creaming around him ...

Augustin shuddered, his back teeth grinding at the yearning that rose in him. She was too good a match for him. Walking away was no longer an option.

“Sit up,” he grated out. “Then turn around on your hands and knees.”

He had to shift back so she could move. He was painfully hard again, his erection thudding up vertical from his groin. Helpless not to touch it, he wrapped one hand around the base and squeezed.

Violet paused mid-turn, her eyes widening at what he was doing. “You’re so beautiful,” she breathed. “If it were possible for me to take you ...”

His prick hardened until it stung, fluid rolling warm from its hole. She thought this beast of his beautiful? “Violet, get into position
now
.”

She understood what he meant. She pushed her gorgeous ass in the air, bracing her upper body on her forearms. The pose was better than he’d asked for: knees spread, glistening pussy on display. The serpent’s apple could not have been this tempting. Her sex was rosy and pulsing with her desire. Arched as she was, the pouting nipples of her breasts nearly brushed the ground.

He swallowed, reminding himself she wasn’t trying to ensnare him. She trusted him to control himself.

“Violet,” he groaned, moving over her. “I’m just going to touch my tip to your entrance. I want to be sure I’m wet enough.”

They shivered in unison at the contact. She was so hot, and the little mouth kissed at him.

“Augustin -”

“I know.” He pressed his sensitive tip ever so gently into the heat of her. “You feels so nice. Just give me a few seconds.”

“Please.” Her hips wriggled as she begged, arousing him insanely. “I can’t stand it. If you stay there, I’ll beg you to come inside.”

She welled around him, and he had to tilt his head back to gasp for air. Every particle of his being screamed for him to drive into that sweet wetness.

“All right,” he panted, somehow finding the will to drag himself from the brink. “I’m backing away now.”

She whimpered as he moved his slickened crown to her anus, but the sound was neither fear nor pain. Knowing she wanted him this intensely drew a rumble of lust from him. He bent around her, one hand swallowing her pubis while the other planted on the soft moss in front of her. Her long red braid had fallen forward over her shoulder, baring her nape to him. He nuzzled her vertebrae, loving her delicacy here, how it marked her as feminine. His lips opened in a kiss, tongue licking salt from her skin. With the oddest sense that he was falling from a great height, he pressed his crown past that first ring of snug muscle.

“Oh God,” she gasped, one hand fumbling back for his hip. “Augustin, don’t stop there.”

Humor curved his mouth as he pushed in slowly; she was no more timid about this act than he was. When he’d penetrated about two inches, he withdrew the knob to just within her entrance. He knew what she was feeling: how every nerve prickled with delight, how the forbidden heat spread and tugged other places she wouldn’t think could be connected.

His knowledge of her pleasure heightened his. Sweat rolled down him as he took her in small nudges, ecstasy sparking through his penis even as he tried to make each motion as pleasurable for her as he could. He didn’t think he’d ever been this gentle. She was so little, so tight, and the last thing he wanted was to hurt her. Luckily, his body was making more lubrication, drop after drop of silky precum welling excitedly from his slit. He set a rhythm with his hand on the front of her, rubbing up and down, then circling, then squeezing her labia to her clit and rolling all three strongly together. He suspected this wasn’t a trick she did for herself. That she liked it he couldn’t doubt. Her pearl swelled to a size and firmness that enraptured him. She came the second time he compressed her folds around it.

After that, everything was easy.

Her body relaxed enough that he could stroke almost all the way in and out. He was still careful, but now he was climbing the hill with her, those sparks of pleasure no longer separate from each other. Now they accumulated, building toward a peak he suspected would be immense. Violet’s moans told him she longed to scale the heights as well. Their mutual rise felt amazing, a challenge they surmounted together. He made noises like she was killing him, but the truth could have been the opposite. It felt like life she brought him, more and more of it stuffing into his soul. His balls pulled tight, the need to spill spiking in his loins. He groaned at the realization that he didn’t have to pull out this time. He could shoot the flood that was gathering into her.

“Yes,” she urged, her voice breathy. “Yes, I’m as close as you.”

“A few more thrusts,” he said, barely able to form the words. “A few ... Oh Lord, you feel so
good
.”

She felt like satin, vised around every sensitive blazing inch. Only her pussy could have been better. Wanting her to feel just as good, he gave her mons the rolling squeeze she’d proved so fond of.

She moaned and a moment later gushed over his fingers. Her reaction was a match struck to dry tinder. He didn’t need to thrust. Her body tightened on him and tugged him into the gulf whose brink he’d been teetering on. He felt the heat of his seed rushing from his tip, felt her quiver and come again. That made him spill harder, his climax expanding and strengthening and suddenly becoming so intense he thought he understood what made his bed partners swoon.

Violet didn’t swoon. Violet let out a sound so close to a scream that his throat simply had to roar in answer.

She’d pulled another climax from him, before the previous peak finished. At last, his shaft drove all the way into her, balls shoved tight to her round bottom. Relief besieged him, fresh seed jetting from him in cannon bursts.

“Oh ... my,” she groaned, then “...
God
” on a new spasm.

He didn’t know how long they held there, straining to each other as luscious aftershocks ran through them. Long minutes certainly. He didn’t collapse, but he wanted to.

When he pulled out, she looked about to buckle. Augustin caught her before she could.

“Let me help you wash. We look like we’ve been rolling in a mud puddle.”

The brook felt even icier after they’d been so warm. Violet could have rinsed herself, but he liked doing it. Though he’d touched many women, she fascinated him. Her combination of tininess and ripe curves was different from anyone he’d caressed. He let his hands drink their fill, stroking her arms, her breasts, the adorable dip of her navel. When his thumb drew down the wet meeting of her thighs, Violet looked up at him.

Her eyes were olive beneath the trees, her lashes a dark lush red. Again, he had that sense that he was falling. His cock twitched, reminding him it could rise again. Violet’s hand lifted to his face, slender fingers brushing his lower lip. His mouth tingled as she did.

“Augustin,” she murmured.

Every day
, he thought.
I want to hear her say my name like that every day
.

He cleared his throat, abruptly uncomfortable. “You need clothes.”

One corner of her mouth jerked up.

“I know. Any sensible man would leave you naked. I would myself most days. I’m just concerned your people will throw me in the stocks if I bring you home this way.”

“You’re ... bringing me home?”

Her lips had gone round. Augustin let his breath out on a low sigh. He had a feeling he’d regret this. In fact, he was pretty sure what he said next would be his afterglow talking.

“I’m going to defeat your were-wolf for you.”

“Oh Augustin. Your highness!” She clasped her hands together before her breasts, her beautiful eyes bright with gratitude.

“I’m being practical,” he said, striving for a dismissive tone. “If I don’t give in, who knows how you’ll torture me next!”

They’d already crossed the border into Arnwall. The prince slipped out of the woods alone, returning a short while later with suitable if not fancy garments for her. Violet dragged the shirt and kirtle on gratefully, possibly a bit too conscious of Augustin watching.

“Stole them off a clothes line,” he said. “You owe one of your tenants.”

His tone was brusque, as if acceding to her wishes irritated him. Unsure of his mood and not wanting to say something to change his mind, Violet kept her mouth shut as they tramped side by side up the coastal road. A dull sweet ache pulsed in her back passage, but she did her best not to dwell on those sensations. Wallowing in arousal wouldn’t sharpen her wits.

She knew the prince was taking in his surroundings: the newly turned fields, the tidy but weathered dwellings, the occasional peasant clopping by in a cart. An hour into their journey, they stopped at a rocky overlook by the beach. A boat lay overturned on the sand below, its silvered hull awaiting repair.

Augustin’s deep blue eyes squinted out to sea, his hands clasped calmly behind him. He hadn’t stolen a shirt for himself, and the smoothly hewn expanse of his back was bare. Whatever had inspired his earlier anger, he’d released it. Together they watched the sun sparkle off the waves.