WITCHCRAFT (A Paranormal Romance) (39 page)

Me? A beautiful woman? I want to laugh in his face, but then again, no I don't. I shudder, and he finally presses his lips against mine and everything seems right. My hands grab his shirt, holding on for my life because I feel like if I let go the whole world is going to explode. How could I live outside of these kisses? They're so full of life, of energy, of happiness. I never want this to stop.

He pulls away. “Do you want me to show you how beautiful I think you are, Anne? Maybe I could have any woman in the world, but I have never had this hunger for anyone before. You're special. I don't know what it is, but you are unique. I want to devour you.” His mouth falls to my neck, his teeth sinking into my skin. He bites, hard, but it feels good more than it hurts.

“Ah,” I gasp. “Richard!”

“Moan my name louder,” he demands. He bites my neck again as his hand squeezes my ass. Then he pulls his shirt apart, the last few buttons flying off. “Moan it!”

“Richard!” I gasp for breath. His hand presses against my mound, a place no one has ever touched other than myself. “Richard, don't stop!”

When his hand slips under my panties, a finger dips between my folds. He gently rubs my pussy, pushing the lips apart to slide his fingers up and down my slit before gently penetrating me with his fingertip. It doesn't go too deep.

I'm excited and jittery about him masturbating me, pushing my panties aside and kissing me. I want his lips on me at all times, his fingers exploring every part of me.

Pushing myself towards his hand, I shudder with the pleasure his finger gives me. His thumb rubs gently against my clitoris. It feels even better than when I touch myself there. Much better. It sends tingling waves through my whole body.

I rest my head against his shoulder and let him hold me, cradle my body close to his as he manipulates my pleasure zones. He pulls my bra down, exposing one of my breasts. My nipple is hard, sticking out towards him and beckoning his mouth to engulf it. He sucks and kisses on my breast, savoring the taste of my skin on his tongue.

The finger within me moves in and out, deeper and deeper until it hits my virginity. He stops pushing it in further, instead just pleasuring me without breaking my hymen.

Without warning, he pulls his fingers out of me and shoves me against the wall. Picking me up a little, he wraps one of my legs around his torso and unzips his pants.

“Are you ready for this?”

I take a deep breath, looking up into his dark eyes before nodding my head. He pushes some hair off of my forehead and kisses my nose before pushing his hard cock into me.

It hurts a little at first, since it's dry. Once the head is covered in my juices, it slides into me with ease, and then pushes past my hymen. I gasp with pain, but the pain is gone quickly. I look up to him with tears in my eyes and then smile.

“That's the worst of it. I'm going to start thrusting a bit now.”

I nod again, and then grab his shirt at the shoulders. His penis is engulfed by my warm, moist flesh. At first I was still, letting him slowly rock into and out of me, but then I start to ride him. With my ass wiggling, we both pick up speed, driving ourselves to orgasm.

We both breathe hard, my breaths mixed with loud moans. I like sex! This is good! Especially with Richard. Something inside of me clicks over suddenly, and I feel a great release of all my stress and a wave of emotions wash over me. I orgasm around Richard's cock, just as he cums inside of me.

Still in his arms, Richard carries me over to his bed. We spend the rest of the morning there, holding each other and napping.

When I get up, I slip out from under Richard's arm and into the bathroom. Checking the mirror, my face is much different then it was before. My pale skin is back, but with a sort of glow, and I am happy. Smiling, even when my lips aren't. Something about this man feels so right, so perfect. I wish-

My phone rings, interrupting my thoughts. Stepping out of the bathroom and back into the bedroom, I answer it. “Hello?”

“Ms. Barnes?” The voice on the other end has a thick accent.

“Yes?”

“Your mother's condition has gotten worse. We need you at the hospital as soon as possible. She might be dying.”

My heart stops. Everything stops. I look to Richard, who is now awake and looking at me very concerned. The gasp I was breathing in stops halfway through. Sassy's tail stops waving, and the birds outside stop chirping. And then suddenly, everything starts again, all at once in a deafening crash of sensations. I hang up the phone, my hands coming up to my face. “I need you to drive me to the hospital.”

“Is everything okay?”

“No! Please just drive me to the hospital!”

Ah, but I haven't explained how I got to that room in the beginning, have I? I will, soon. I will tell you all the stories of the sex toys in that room, in graphic, sexy, sweaty detail.

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The Thief and the Princess

Fantasy, Erotic Romance, True Love

Cat Calloway

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With a long train swishing behind me, I hustle from table to table, trying each of the dishes before the guests arrive. Hundreds of guests, many of them eligible bachelors, are to join me for a ball – a ball where I must meet my future husband.

“Alessandria, stop picking at the food and go wash your hands,” my mother chastises me, her green eyes flashing with anger. Mother expects perfection, and I do my best to meet her standards. It's not always possible, but I do try.

I keep my waist thin, I train it with my corset, I cross stitch instead of playing with my brothers in the yard. It's dull, and I miss when I was younger and under the care of our gentle nanny, but those days are long gone and I am the eldest child. I must set an example… and be prepared for my father to die.

So I must find a husband.

It isn't awful or anything. In fact, ever since I was a child, I have dreamed of becoming a bride, and then a wife. I actually love learning how to run the castle, and having children one day will no doubt be the happiest thing to happen to me.

After washing my hands and having a young servant girl help me straighten my corset, I check my cell phone. It's nearly six in the evening, and my guests will be arriving soon.

“I see a carriage coming over the hill,” my father says, coming up behind me with his hand shading his eyes from the sun. One side of his mouth droops, a side effect from his last stroke. I try to ignore the depths of my sadness when I see how thin he has become, because he deserves better than that. I shouldn't be a mope in his last months.

“Yes, I can hear the horses. Dad… Do you think I'll meet my husband tonight?”

He looks down at me, drawing him closer to him and kissing my forehead. “You could have any man in the world, my dear. You will find your husband when the time is right. Don't rush it, and don't make the mistake of just going for the richest man, no matter what your mother says. You have no need for more money, all you need now is someone you love and who loves you.”

“Marrying for love? That's romantic, even for you.”

My father laughs, then coughs and presses a hand against his chest. “Yes, even for me. But, you will do what you want. I know how you are.”

“Alessandria Didane Davydova, princess of Erilam!”

The announcer holds my hand, helping me down the first step as I walk towards the now packed ballroom. A few cameras go off, bathing me in flashes of light. Mother not only invited royalty and socialites, but journalists and bloggers. Her greatest hope is for me to become well known around the world, so that I might put our country on the map.

Erilam is a wealthy country, with many natural resources, but we are small. Every man goes through military service to protect us from the larger countries that salivate over our gold, oil, and fertile lands. Many women join the service, too, now that it is legal for them to do so.

Though we're isolationist and nationalistic, we have been trying for years to join the EU and really make our mark on the world. That burden will rest on my head, and the head of my future husband.

I take my father's arm as I descend the stairs, and let him lead me around to introduce me to people. An English prince. A German duchess. One of the Japanese emperor's sons. No, two of his sons. All very handsome, very rich, and very charming.

A shadow slides against the farthest wall. I almost wouldn't have noticed if it hadn't darted past a window and blocked the setting sun. I look around to see who or what it might have been, but it's long gone.

Maybe I imagined it.

One of the Japanese men offers to dance with me, and I take his hand and follow him out onto the dance floor. We dance in time with the music, with my father and mother dancing next to us. My mother looks radiant in her golden gown. Father almost doesn't look sick.

I notice the shadow again, but as I go to ask him about it, my partner steps on my shoe, catching me and sending me flying! I slam into my mother, who cries out but isn't hurt.

“I'm so sorry! I'm a little clumsy, I had some wine!”

I am angry for a moment, but then I laugh, waving my hand. “It's okay! But it looks like my shoe's heel is broken. I'll go change my shoes, and then we can have a second try at a dance.”

I bow at the blushing, mortified man and run off with bare feet. A few of the other men watch as I go, staring at my feet.

Up a flight of stairs and past two portraits painted of me, I reach the door to my bedroom. Before I can step inside, though, I hear… is that muttering? Is there someone in my room?

Slowly, quietly, I twist the door knob and open my door a crack. There, in my own bedroom, standing in front of my jewels is a man clothed all in black. His hair, though, is a light blond. On his back is a black bag, which he slides off  his shoulder and opens.

Picking up the glass case that holds rubies my grandmother once wore in her tiara, he slides it gently into the bag. Next comes a pair of small diamond earrings, and a few other things. He picks and chooses his prizes ever so carefully, picking them up with deft fingers and examining them before placing them in his bag.

I press against the door a little too hard, making it creek. The thief's head whips around, looking for the source of the sound. I scramble to pull myself back as quietly as possibly, my heart pounding.

What am I to do? Should I call for the guards or deal with this myself? Surely that's not safe. Should I just let him take the jewels?

The shuffling noise comes back, signaling that he's going through the drawers now, looking for anything hidden.

I gulp, opening the door again. The thief picks up the one thing that could never be replaced: A pink diamond with a fleck of gold in the center. The symbol of my royalty, and at times the only reason my family has been able to hold power.

I can't let him have it.

“Hey!” I say, pushing the door open. The thief looks back at me, his green eyes wide with surprise. “Put all of that back, or I'll call the guards!”

The man, who I realize now is very slender and tall, gently sets down my pink diamond and turns to me. “Oh, my. I never suspected I might have a chance to meet the future queen of this beautiful country.” He bows, sweeping his arm low. His accent is American, not Erilamian. The man steps closer to me.

Stepping into my room, I shut the door behind me and cross my arms. “How did an American thief get into my castle?”

“You mean through all the chaos? If I didn't know better, I might accuse you of purposefully making it easy for someone to sneak in. Half of your guards are outside drunk. I'm surprised there aren't more people like me here.”

He moves closer to me still. He smells like chocolate and cinnamon. His hand reaches out, fingers sliding against my chin to my neck. I stand perfectly still, never having been touched like this.

As his other hand clasps around my neck, he chokes me lightly. A strange thrill comes over me, causing me to close my eyes. My mouth parts. I become to very, very warm.

“Ah, but a princess is still a woman, is she not? Would you like to become a woman before you're married?”

I say nothing. I feel trapped and wholly seduced by this man's touch, his sweet scent. He pulls me in close to his body and his long hair slides like a whisper across my face. When his mouth touches my neck for a kiss, I merely let it loll to the side. Easier access for more caresses.

“What's your name?” I pant, my hands grabbing the man's black shirt.

“Timo,” he says.

“Is...” he bites my neck, which brings me so much pleasure that I must pause, draw him closer, truly enjoy it. “Is that your real name?”

“Perhaps,” he whispers into my ear. His breath is hot, and I want to feel it all over. Mostly lower. Please move lower.

Deft fingers undo my corset. It falls to the ground, and my breasts spill out of my now loose blouse. I bite my lip as he hikes up my dress, pounds of fabric spilling around his arms, just so that he can press against my warm slit.

“Ah, a sweet princess can get wet! I guess every woman really is a whore. Are you a whore, Princess Alessandria?”

Blushing, I look down but smile through the embarrassment. No man with good breeding would dare to speak to me like that, and maybe that's exactly why I like it! Something about being called a whore, being treated like one, feels really nice.

I reach down between us, though the folds of my dress make it nearly impossible to do so, and stroke his big cock through his pants. I realize I have no clue what I'm doing, so I just wing it. “Oh, yes, Timo. I think I am a whore, and a whore knows what a whore wants.” I bat my eyelashes, trying to look seductive. If I fail, Timo doesn't let on. His smile turns a little darker, a little more mature.

“Well, then, I think I would like to know the Whore Princess better. Take off your dress and blouse, whore, and show me your body.”

I've been naked in front of the servants, but never in a sexual way. My face is burning so hot that I may catch fire, but still I pull my blouse over my head and slip the straps of my dress off my shoulders. The silk cloth slides down my thin body, sticking for a moment at my wide hips.

Timo looks at me for a long time, silently. His prick has gotten even harder through his pants, and is now making a tent of them. I giggle looking at it, but keep my eyes low while he inspects me.

“Hmm, yes, this is what a whore should look like. Do you know how a whore should stand?”

I shake my head, my hair bouncing around my shoulders.

“A true whore would bend over her bed and prepare for any man who should come across her to take her. Well? What are you waiting for?”

I bend over the edge of my bed, instinctively spreading my legs wide. His fingers tap my ass cheek, then slide down to my thigh and back up again. Again and again, he tickles my backside like this.

My slit is dripping wet and aching to me touched. I spread my arms wide across my bed and grip the sheets. “Am I a good whore, Timo?”

“Almost,” he says as he pulls his pants down and lets them drop to the floor. “A whore should never address a man by his name, only by calling him Sir or Master.”

“Yes, Sir.”

A slap across my ass makes me wince.

“Ow! Why did you do that?”

“I prefer Master.” He grunts, then rubs the head of his cock along my slit. “But you're so wet, that I think I'll forgive you. Spread your legs wider, you stupid bimbo.”

I groan at the name calling, at the hot prick against my clit, at this whole situation. I spread my legs wide, going up on my tippy toes to really show off my ass and cunt.

He suddenly thrusts forward, and I gasp loudly. It's a good thing most of the guards are drunk, or they might come in to see me being defiled. Who knows what my mother might do if she found me no longer a virgin. Who knows what my country might think.

My thighs press against the bed as he pushes himself into me. The pressure doesn't hurt, but it is a bit uncomfortable. Timo moves slowly as I grip the bed. He's very large, at least for a virgin.

The pressure inside builds and then finally he is fully within me. Reaching forward, he squeezes my nipple and makes me squeal.

He moves himself in and out of me, and doesn't stop fucking me for even a second. His stamina is impressive, his arms are strong as they hold me still.

My vision blurs as a strange and very pleasant feeling comes over me: my first climax. My mouth is wide and my eyes are glazed as I let out a long moan.

Timo flips me over and screws me from the front, his hands gripping my breasts. My legs are over his shoulders. It almost feels too good after my first orgasm.

He suddenly cries out and holds onto my hips. My pussy feels sloppy and wet, more than when I'm just horny.

“Did you?”

“Yep. A common thief just came in a whore princess. That is my gift to you, and I hope you get knocked up.” He pulls me up for a kiss, his soft lips making my head spin and my heart race. He pulls away, a strange look on his face. Like he's been betrayed, but by what?

I stare deep into Timo's eyes. He's beautiful, sexy, gorgeous… and something about him makes me very curious. A dangerous sort of curiosity.

A knock on the door sends him away from me, looking for his bag and then leaping out of the window.

“Just a moment!” I cry, scrambling to put my clothes back on. “I can't open the door for you unless you are one of my ladies, because I need my corset retied!”

A pause, and then a cough. “We will send for a lady, your highness. We just came to warn you that someone may have broken in.”

I look out the window, to the blackness of the sky freckled with stars and the big moon, and I sigh out my longing and the dregs of the pleasure Timo gave to me. “Thank you for warning me,” I say, my voice weary.