The Stolen Princess (Fated Royals Book 1) Read online

Page 4


  I heard Sara’s yelp. Her pleading voice but some things are between men.

  I had come to know the fury of battle to be impenetrable, but as soon as Sara touched my shoulder, I opened my fists, as if by magic. “Bors, stop. Stop it.” Her calm yet firm voice stalled me. Her delicate touch and gentle words had more power than my long-honed instincts as a fighter, living to protect and defend. Her word was my law, and I obeyed without protest.

  Regaining my senses, I saw what I’d done. Her father lay at my feet, his nose bloodied and crooked. But he was a scrappy old fighter and he was on his feet and spitting out a tooth the next instant. “Who the hell do you think you are? She’s my daughter.” He spat the words at me with blood dripping over his lips, cracking his knuckles ready for more. “She’s my property. And I’ll do with her as I please.”

  He hit the ground two body lengths away with a thud and a grunt after my fist connected with a right hook to his left cheek. “The fuck you will,” I spat back then grabbed Sara by the hand and turned us back in the direction of town. It would take God and the King’s guard to make me leave her in that awful place.

  With that lecherous, waste of a father.

  And even then, if he made the mistake of trying to take her, it would be a battle I wouldn’t lose.

  The way Sara kept darting her eyes back over her shoulder only fueled my rage.

  The red flush that had warmed her cheeks as I kissed her earlier was gone now, replaced by a worried paleness. The anger inside me ate away at my ability to speak so I tried to show her that she was safe. I kept her small hand tight in mine and never strayed from her side as we walked back along the King’s Highway.

  We passed others, but outside of giving them a glare that had them moving as far to the other side of the road as was possible I paid them no mind; as far as I was concerned, she was the only living soul in the world.

  I was fucking enraged that she’d spent even one moment in a house with that man, a man that had the gall to call himself her father. How such a piece of shit could have given life to Sara beat the hell out of me. All I could imagine was that she took after her mother, but from what Angelica had told me that woman was no better.

  As we walked, I did my best to calm my mind. Rage does not make for clear thinking.

  I wished that I had a home of my own, somewhere I could take her, to guard her, protect her, and give her a better life. To make love to her every morning and fuck her every night.

  But I didn’t have such luxuries. All I had to offer was the clothes on my back, the bit of coin I’d saved through my years, my strength, and my wits. The only shelter I could give her was Angelica’s. It would have to do, at least for now.

  What had I done with my life? I looked down, her youth and innocence more clear now than ever as was the gap of years between us and my own jaded soul and battle scared body. Even as we walked, I was reminded of the toll my life had taken on my body. My knees ached and the stabbing pain in my left side throbbed; a souvenir from a long ago infected battle wound that had damaged me in a way that could not be undone.

  “Thank you for protecting me.” Her soft voice drifted to my ears breaking me from my dark thoughts then squeezing my hand as we neared Angelica’s cottage and the sun drifted downward on the horizon.

  She was mine. My possession. Looking after her was my job. “Don’t you dare thank me. You’ll stay in my room,” I told her, as I handed her the key in my pocket. “First one at the top of the steps.”

  She looked puzzled, then disappointed. “Come up with me. Stay close to me.”

  But I shook my head. She had no fucking idea what would happen if we were alone together in that bedroom. I’d have her on her knees and roaring in five seconds flat. “Just put my things in the hallway and I’ll have Angelica collect them later.”

  I didn’t want to worry her, but I knew I’d gotten us into some genuinely inconvenient shit: I’d assaulted her father, stolen his daughter, and now was keeping her hidden in the village whore’s house. Great. Appearances were not on our side.

  What I had just done in that fit of wild, protective rage could very well ruin her reputation as a marriageable woman. I was furious that I’d done it, but at the same time there had been no other choice. I had no regrets except one: I wasn’t good enough for her to ask her to marry me right then and there.

  She might be new to the world, but she was no fool. “You won’t come in with me to protect my reputation. Is that the idea?”

  “It is. Your chastity is your power. I’m not about to fuck with that more than I have already.”

  She looked ready to protest, but I stopped her short with a firm stare. “Listen, Sara. If your father comes looking for you, I’ll be ready. If a village mob gets word that I’ve just returned to town and all but kidnapped you, I’ll be ready. To keep you safe, I’m ready for anything.”

  She blinked a few times in quick succession, then exhaled deeply. “And where will you stay?” She asked as she clasped the key in her palm.

  From my belt, I drew my hunting knife and drove the point into an old milking bench on the porch, then sat down next to it. “Right here. On guard.”

  Afternoon turned into evening and the shadows lengthened into night. Every few hours or so, Angelica would come to check on me, bringing me an apple or a bit of bread and butter. She knew me well enough not to try to lure me inside. I was grateful to be left alone with my thoughts, like some lion licking his goddamned wounds.

  Sara, though, didn’t come down at all. I heard her voice inside, and even a brief moment of laughter between her and Angelica, but she never came out to see me. I had no right to be disappointed, either—it was my idea that I stay outside, and she was doing as she was told. But fuck how I wanted her to do what she was told in bed, with my cock in her mouth and those green eyes looking up at me like I was her fucking king.

  I imagined her lying in bed one floor above. I treasured knowing where she was and that she was safe and warm. How I fucking wished I could be in that bed beside her.

  No trouble came, but I remained vigilant. As the moon rose, I settled down on the porch floor with a blanket and a sack of barley under my head for a pillow. I’d made do with less comfort while on watch for more years than I could count.

  My thoughts were full of worries for Sara’s future and safety. Never had I felt such a sense of purpose. I remembered those ancient stories of knights at court, who promised their honor and valor to a single forbidden woman who could never return their love and devotion. It always seemed fucking crazy to me in the past. But no more.

  Though the night was cool and quiet, I knew there was no chance I’d sleep. Still, I closed my eyes for a brief moment, and as I did I heard the front door creak open.

  My lids sprung wide, and in the dim light I expected to see Angelica checking on me once more. But there, in the warm flickers of the low fire inside, was Sara.

  Goddamn it, she was heaven’s own version of beautiful. She wore what must have been one of Angelica’s nightdresses, and it hugged her tits and ass in a way that made me instantly hard. Her waist was narrow, her hips generous, full, and soft. Her tits nearly spilled out from an embroidered, low neckline, the gauzy fabric giving me a tantalizing glimpse of dark nipples beneath.

  “I don’t like that you’re out here,” she said.

  I raised up on my elbow to get a better look at her, my mouth dry as I allowed my gaze to drift along the silhouette of her thighs beneath the light material. “You’re not getting rid of me.”

  “I mean, I don’t like that you’re out here. Please, come inside. Please come to bed.” She extended her hand and knelt down to offer it to me. “With me, Bors.”

  My willpower was shot. From the instant I’d laid eyes on her, I had been denying my most basic needs. The battle that raged inside me had been fucking relentless; I was strong, but I wasn’t made of iron. I needed to know her, from the fucking inside out.

  And I needed it now.

  She
shut the bedroom door behind us, and I led her over to the bed. The room was almost pitch dark, but somehow the moonlight found her, casting an eerie glow over her pale skin. “Are you afraid?” I asked.

  “No,” she said, too quickly to be believable, her voice trembling.

  I slid my hand down her hips, making her squirm against my touch, and cupped her ass cheek hard in my palm. “You fucking should be.”

  Her emerald green eyes surrounded by dark lashes caught the moonlight and sparkled. “Take me. I want to know what it feels like to be taken. By you…”

  My cock throbbed with need for her, and I pressed it hard against her hip. “You won’t be able to stop me once I start. Tell me you understand that.”

  “I do.”

  “Say it.”

  Her breath was jagged and fearful. “I understand that you won’t be able to stop once you start.”

  I cupped her pussy and she gasped, rising onto her tiptoes, her eyes wide. She was already fucking soaked; I could feel it right through her night dress.

  “But once I ruin you, I promise I will put you back together, Sara. I will break you to make you whole.” I took her face in my hands and kissed her deeply and slowly, exploring her mouth and getting lost in her moans and sighs. It intoxicated me to know that no other man had done any of these things. Her virgin lips, her virgin moans, her virgin pussy—all of it was fucking mine.

  I slid my fingers up from her pussy, and took her nipple through the fabric, gripping it between my thumb and forefinger. “I will never hurt you more than you need to be hurt. Ever. You have my word,” I told her, and gave her tit a solid pinch.

  “Ow…” She wriggled against the pain, her eyes fluttering shut and her lips parting slightly in an ‘oh’. Her body responded and I knew in that instant that I was the luckiest motherfucker in the world.

  The tight knot of her perky nipple poked out against the semi-transparent fabric of her nightdress, and I couldn’t hold back any longer. I yanked it down off her shoulders and let it drop to the floor. There she stood in front of me, in all her perfection and glory.

  “Fuck, Sara,” I said, taking her in as my balls pulsed with seed at the sight of her. “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

  Instinctively, she laughed softly and covered her bare breasts with her forearm. I didn’t like it. Her embarrassment had no place with me. I didn’t want her modesty—I wanted her raw and unfiltered need. I guided her arm away and said, “Never do that ever again. Got it? Never cover yourself in front of me.”

  She swallowed hard and nodded.

  “Good.” I took her in again and sank down on the bed, sitting on the edge as she stood while I explored her. Here and there on her body she had small, delicate beauty marks, and I moved to kiss each one as she squirmed and giggled, making me harder still than I was already.

  There was one above her left breast, one on her right thigh, one on the rim of her bellybutton. Beneath her left breast was a slight discoloration, a birthmark, but the light was too low for me to see it clearly. Her imperfections made her even more beautiful to me. Her body was a vision, and her long dark hair set off the whiteness of her skin.

  I drew her to me with one hand on her ass, making sure my fingers dug into the crease between her ass cheek and her thigh. She gathered up my shirt and pulled it over my head. In the moonlight, she traced the scars on my shoulder and chest. “You’ve been through a lot,” she said.

  I pressed my head against her chest, and taking one breast in my hand, guided her nipple into my mouth. She let loose a soft, feline growl as I sucked, then slowly, with one finger, I parted the lips of her pussy and her body trembled with pleasure. She was soaked between her thighs. Her scent filled the room, warm…sweet and salty at the same time, like the ocean on a cool evening. I dipped my fingers into her, gently but firmly, teaching her to know her own pleasure.

  With each touch, I memorized her response. Her sounds. Committing to the never-ending search for knowledge that would lead to her pleasure.

  I was charting the path with her, where no other man had ever or would ever tread. It was a fucking honor to explore her innocence, to know it would only ever be my cock inside her, my fingers penetrating her, my tongue on her flesh. Her clit swelled with each stroke of my fingers.

  Even as I breathed in my own delusion, I knew I was treading on dangerous ground. Ground uneven and unsure for perfection like her yielding to a brute like me.

  Still, I’d lost my control. I could tell from the pattern of her breathing and the way she dug her fingernails into my shoulder that she was getting close. “You’ve never cum before, have you?”

  “No, never,” she whispered toward the ceiling, rocking back slightly on her heels. “But please, Bors. Please don’t stop…”

  The word stop had no place in the bedroom with us. “Never.” Keeping my fingers on her pussy, I guided her supple body down onto the bed.

  With my other hand I unbuckled my belt and unbuttoned my pants, freeing my rock-hard cock at last. Twisting, I pushed the pants away and rolled with her, positioning her knees on either side of my face.

  Then, kneeling before her, I gently penetrated her with my middle finger before placing my tongue on her clit. I went slow, alternating between circles around her swollen clit and using the flat of my tongue to compress it against her pubic bone. Her flavor burned through me like the devil himself was near. I’d never tasted anything so pure, so perfect. Her scent was a perfume nature created only for me.

  Her hand knitted into my hair and her back arched off the bed. I slid my other hand under her ass and placed one finger at the bud of her anus to make her know that I owned her, every fucking inch of her.

  As she got closer and closer to orgasm, I slowed my rhythm to make the intensity build. Her body said let me come, but my tongue told her not fucking yet. She poured wetness into my palm, a viscous, silky stream that made me so fucking hard I thought I might just tear her to pieces. I wanted to fucking wreck her. I wanted our cum on the sheets and her virginal blood mixed with it. But I took my time.

  Good things come to those who wait.

  With each roll of my tongue, she got closer. I added a second finger finding her magical rough spot inside and pressing my digit into it hearing her breath halt when I did. Her thighs trembled and she bit the edge of the pillow-case.

  Using slow strokes of my fingers, I stretched her walls and stimulated her from the inside, in unison with what I was doing to her with my tongue. Though she might not know the sound of her approaching orgasm, it was unmistakable. As I felt it growing near, I ate her out like a starved wolf, sucking and licking like I’d never get to taste her again. She tasted like fucking heaven. My own personal pussy heaven.

  With one final suck of her clit against my tongue, I felt her walls tighten around my fingers. She came hard and strong, roaring out my name as her body twisted up and off the bed, but I held her down. The walls of her pussy throbbed against my fingers, and she bucked and writhed, but I kept up my intensity, never slowing until I felt her body recoil and her voice break.

  Her sweet cunt was so sensitive in that moment, the pleasure became pain and it only made me harder knowing I’d taken her to this point and it would be my choice to bring her back.

  I withdrew, just far enough to wipe her pussy juices on her thigh, and then nuzzled my chin into the flesh between her openings. “You’re a fucking goddess.”

  “Oh, sweet lord above,” she panted. “What just happened?”

  As she came back to earth, I licked her clean, savoring the taste of her. She was honey-sweet at first, but salty on the finish. Fucking perfect.

  Before she had even caught her breath, she was already reaching for my cock. I growled with the pleasure of her touch as she explored my balls, softly and gently. Her tentative explorations made me all the more wild. I reached down to surround her hand in mine, showing her how hard to work my balls. She was a quick fucking study, too, and soon enough I felt a trickle
of pre-cum spill from my cock. She automatically wiped it clean with her thumb.

  “Such a fucking good girl.”

  As she stroked me, she looked up, placing her chin against the muscles of my abdomen. I dragged my thumb down her soft, wet lips. “Tell me what you want to say.”

  One blink, two. “I want you to be…” She stammered. “I want you...and me…” Her breath caught in her throat. “I don’t even know the right words.”

  “Shh,” I said, pressing my thumb to her lips, hard enough to let her feel my impatience. “Just say what you feel.”

  “I want you to be one with me. I want to know you that way.”

  I cupped my hand around hers as she encircled my cock and made her grip me tighter. “You want me inside you.”

  “Yes,” she gasped. “I want you inside me.”

  About fucking time, it was true.

  I held back my chuckle at that thought. How many hours had it been since I’d set my eyes upon her in town? And yet, the waiting had felt like years. The knowing had felt like decades. In a matter of hours, this girl had entwined herself with me in a way I’d never thought possible. In a way I could never undo.

  Reaching around, I arranged the pillows behind her head and laid her down on the bed. Beneath my palm, I felt her heart racing. Her eyes were wide, with enough fear and uncertainty to make me goddamned crazy to pump my seed into her and wipe that innocence right off her face. So, I placed my knees on the mattress and spread her legs around me. Then I placed the tip of my dick at the slick opening of her tight little cunt, happy that we’d already prepared it for what was to come.

  “Who do you belong to?” I managed, through gritted teeth.

  Her mouth opened and the sweetest words I’ve ever heard drifted from her full lips. “I belong to you. Make me yours…”

  “Oh, I will. And your sweet virgin blood on my cock will prove it…”