Hunting Beauty

  “Play with that little pussy, baby,” Damon growled. “Touch that clit while I make this ass mine.”

  I moaned as I buried my fingers in my soaking wet slit, grinding my clit into my palm as he drove in and out of me.

  “Please,” I gasped, feeling myself tumbling towards the edge and knowing I was about to fall hard.

  “Please what, baby girl?” he groaned, his cock swelling even bigger inside my tight ass.

  “Please, I’m going to—”

  “You want to come for me? You want to come for me while I claim this ass?”

  I cried out into my sheets, whimpering and moaning uncontrollably as this dominant, older, gorgeous and rough man nailed me to the mattress. I could feel him plunging in and out, his heavy balls hitting my slick pussy with every thrust. And I knew I was going to explode at any second.

  “Come for me,” he whispered in my ear, his lips brushing that tender spot on my neck. “Come for me, little girl.”

  Everything after that was a blur. I remember screaming as I came harder than I’d ever even imagined someone could come. I remember my entire body shattering for him, exploding in pure pleasure as he grabbed my hips and buried himself to the hilt in my ass. I could feel him unleashing inside me, his hot cum pumping deep inside as the orgasm tore through me like a hurricane.

  And then I remember him kissing me, and covering me with a sheet, and pulling me tight against him as the sweetest sleep imaginable took me under.

  Chapter 7

  Damon

  I had officially crossed into the land of insane. Because this was truly madness. This was asking for trouble in the worst kind of way. Not only was she almost half my age, not only was she a damned virgin, not only was it so wrong that I’d spent the next three nights in her bed, showing her everything else but taking her virginity. No, beyond all that was the fact that she was the Princess of Berne. The. Damned. Princess.

  And I was no prince. I wasn’t remotely royalty. This wasn’t just inappropriate, this was get your fucking head chopped off. Well, maybe not really, in this day and age. Certainly court-martialed, though. Certainly jailed. Certainly get the shit beaten out of you in jail by any number of willing life-sentence motherfuckers willing to take some cash for their families from whoever might want me dead or broken.

  And yet, still I went back.

  Still I’d sneak into her room, and into her bed, and into her willing arms, and between her willing legs. She was my obsession, my drug. I was addicted to the sounds of her moans in my ears, to the way her tight little body writhed for me, and to the way she screamed my name into her pillow as I made her come.

  I showed her everything those next three nights — all of it — and she took it craving more.

  This was crazy, batshit insane wrong.

  And I didn’t care.

  I was falling in all sorts of love with this girl. I was in over my head, and I knew it. So was she, and I knew she knew it too. But we didn’t care. The feelings were too real. The realization that nothing else in this world had ever felt so damned good was too real.

  She was my everything, and as fucked up and wrong as I knew it was, I couldn’t stay away.

  I wouldn’t.

  She moaned, her thighs tightening on my head as her hand dropped to my hair. I growled into her pussy, having just woken her with my tongue pushing in deep.

  It was the fourth night of our affair, and I’d snuck in a bit later than the nights before. I slowly pulled away, grinning wolfishly up at her.

  “I’d apologize for waking you, but…” I shrugged.

  “But you’re not sorry.”

  “Not in the slightest.”

  She grinned. “I thought you might not be coming.”

  “Not a chance I wouldn’t. You fell asleep on me.”

  “Someone’s kept me up the last few nights.”

  “Someone’s going to keep you up very late tonight,” I growled, dropping my head back between her thighs.

  “Wait.”

  I paused, frowning as I glanced up at her.

  “I have to tell you something.”

  The frown deepened as I moved up next to her, my hand stroking her cheek. “Tell me.”

  “I—” She looked away. “I have to go somewhere soon.”

  “Oh?”

  “A ball.”

  She looked down, biting her lip.

  “Tell me what’s wrong, beautiful.”

  “It’s a suitors’ ball.”

  I scowled, something dark welling up inside of me.

  “I have to go,” she said glumly.

  “A suitors’ ball to find you a husband, huh?”

  Her face fell. “Don’t be mad, please? My dad’s making me go to it.” She sighed. “Well, no, actually it’s my stepmother that’s making me go.”

  “Queen Mallory.”

  Her face soured at the name. I didn’t blame her.

  Queen Mallory was King Lorne’s second wife, and the total opposite of Kathryn, Adele’s mother who’d passed away years ago. Mallory also seemed to have gotten her claws in deep with her King, and rumor had it she was pulling more strings than people were aware of.

  “Plus, it’s my uncle, King Lucian’s ball, in Avlion.”

  I was quiet, brooding at the idea of her going off to parade around in front of a bunch of pampered little bitches calling themselves princes. I knew she was mine, and I wasn’t worried about her. I was worried about them. They didn’t know she was mine. The thought of them looking at her like that, of ogling her, and trying their hand at stupid lines, or trying to dance with her?

  I growled lowly.

  “Don’t be mad,” she whispered. “Honestly, if I could not go, I would.” Her fingers slid into mine. “You know I only want you.”

  “But how can we be?” I muttered, hating the taste of the words on my tongue. “You’re royalty, Princess. And I’m most certainly not.”

  “We can make this work.”

  I shook my head and looked away, the harsh reality of this whole affair suddenly hitting me like a knife to the gut.

  “Beautiful, I don’t—”

  “I’ll only ever be yours.”

  She said it with such sincerity, with such naked honesty, that I scooped her into my arms and kissed her with everything I had.

  “And if it has to stay a secret?”

  “Then it stays a secret,” she whispered. “I’ll never marry some stupid prince just because people say I should. I’ll just have you.”

  “It’d be a scandal.”

  “Let them talk.”

  I grinned. “That’s my girl.”

  “Your girl,” she husked, slowly pushing me back and swinging one leg over me.

  I growled as she mounted me, her hands sliding down my chest, over my abs, and down to curl her fingers around my throbbing cock. She panted, raising up slightly and easing the head of me against her wet, silken opening.

  “Adele—”

  I wanted her. God help me, I wanted her. But there was a reason I hadn’t taken her virginity yet. Because I wanted it to be special for her. I didn’t want her to lose it in some hushed, whispered affair like this, hoping we weren’t “found out.” I wanted it to be perfect for her.

  “I know,” she said quietly. “I just want to try something.”

  Slowly, she eased down, and I groaned deeply as I felt her lips part around my shaft. She moved down, not taking me inside, but letting her pussy slide down the underside of my pulsing cock. She gasped, her eyes closing and her body shuddering as she moved her hands to my chest. Slowly, she started to move her hips, sliding her sweet little pussy up and down my shaft without actually taking me inside.

  But fuck did it feel like heaven.

  She moved faster, and then faster still, her eyes closing as she tossed her head back, her black hair tousled around her face. She bucked her hips, her clit rubbing up and down every inch of my cock as her moans started to fill the room. Her hands moved up to her own breasts, cupping
them, and gently twisting her nipples as I lay back and just watched this goddess ride me.

  My goddess.

  She came suddenly, her whole body shuddering as her fingers teased her nipples and her black hair fell across her face. I groaned, grabbing her soft thighs and rocking my hips up as I felt the cum explode out of me to land in hot white streaks across my abs. Adele gasped once more and then collapsed onto me, kissing me hungrily as we slowly found our breath.

  Like I said, I had officially crossed into insanity. Craziness. Madness.

  Love.

  And I’d be damned if I let her station, or a shitty wicked stepmother, or anything tell her she had to be with anyone but me.

  I held off visiting the next night, since I knew she was busy with her friend Anya, and besides, I actually had to put in some time on my report about the insurgency front lines. But two afternoons later — the day of King Lucian’s ball, I snuck back in.

  I had a present for her.

  She’d just finished getting ready, it looked like when I stepped inside. My breath caught — my jaw tightening and my cock hardening at the sight of her.

  God damn she was perfect.

  She wore a silvery gold dress that shimmered as it fell around her perfectly. Her long black hair was up in this elaborate and intricate series of twists and braids and curls, and I just stared at her until she caught me in the mirror and grinned.

  “You’re not supposed to be here in the daylight!” she whispered quickly, her eyes darting around the room with a worried look, even if she was smiling at my being there.

  “I know, Princess.” I moved towards her, my eyes hungrily drinking her in.

  “Damon—”

  “You look fucking incredible, you know.”

  She blushed, her lip catching in her teeth. “My friend Anya is right outside,” she whispered as I stepped into her, pulling her against me and letting my hands trail over her dress.

  “Just take this.”

  I stepped away and pulled the small black package out from behind me.

  “What is it?” She grinned, her eyes sparkling as she carefully took it from my hands.

  “Wear them, tonight.”

  She gave me a puzzled look.

  “What do you—”

  “Just wear them.” I grinned wolfishly at her, reveling in knowing what she didn’t. Yet.

  “Have fun tonight,” I whispered, leaning in and kissing her softly, and then harder, letting my teeth catch her lip and my tongue probe against hers before I pulled back, leaving her breathless and blushing.

  “And Princess?”

  “Yes?” she whispered.

  “Any of those prissy little princes try and get too close? I’ll kill ‘em.”

  She beamed. “Please do.”

  Chapter 8

  Adele

  Oh. My. God.

  Vibrator panties. Damon had gotten me vibrator panties.

  I almost couldn’t believe it, but then, the man who’d stolen my heart was also every bit as dirty-minded as it would take to get someone something like this. I felt my breath catch, a naughty thrill teasing through me at the feel of the them against my body.

  Of course I was wearing them, after all.

  The panties were inlaid with two smooth, golden, bulbous pieces of metal that fit snug against my clit and my ass. It was by far the naughtiest thing I’d ever worn, and that thought had me floating as I twirled my way out of my quarters and down the hall to Anya’s.

  I only knew they were vibrating because of the hilarious little drawing on the directions inside the box, but how they actually turned on, I wasn’t quite sure. In any case, they certainly made walking much more fun.

  “Wow, you look fantastic.”

  Anya turned, the tight black cocktail dress fitting her perfectly. Her chestnut hair was done up in a plain if not elegant bun, and her makeup was looking awesome, without being overly done.

  “Damn,” I whistled. “Where are you off to?”

  “Oh,” she blushed, shrugging and waving me off. “Just this thing.”

  I raised a brow. “You’re going to need to be more specific than that when you’re dressed like that.”

  She blushed even deeper, which wasn’t something I was used to seeing on my friend.

  My brows suddenly perked up. “Wait, is this that club thing you went to before?” I fronted. “Hey how is it that I haven’t grilled you on that yet?”

  “Maybe because you’ve been wrapped up in your own little secrets?”

  This time it was my turn to blush.

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  Anya rolled her eyes, smiling. “Oh, okay. So you haven’t been in this dreamy floaty mood all week? Adele White, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’d gotten laid.”

  I swallowed quickly and shook my head. “Oh, no, of course not.”

  I mean, it wasn’t technically a lie.

  “What’s his name?”

  I swallowed again, trying to will the heat from my face.

  Anya grinned. “I knew it.”

  “It’s— it’s nothing.” I shook my head, frowning.

  “So who’s the prince?”

  “No prince.”

  “Oh?”

  “No, I mean, it’s not a guy at all. You’re making things up.”

  “No I’m not.”

  I blushed.

  “And you’re a bad liar.”

  “It’s not even worth talking about,” I said with a sigh, my shoulders slumping. “It can’t be.”

  “Says who?”

  “Everyone”

  “Not a royal, I take it?”

  I shook my head.

  “And is this just for fun or…”

  “More than that,” I whispered.

  “Wow.”

  I frowned. “What?”

  “You got hooked, huh?”

  I nodded glumly.

  “Look,” Anya stepped towards me and gave me a hug. “You look great, so just go to this ball, mail it in, and we’ll figure it out when you get home.”

  I pouted. “You promise?”

  “Hey, what are servants for?”

  I grinned.

  “You look lovely, my dear.”

  I smiled. “Thanks, Dad.”

  He beamed at me, nodding slowly. “They tell you it goes fast, but how did you grow up so quickly?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Dad, stop.”

  He laughed. “Well, you certainly look ready for the ball this evening. Doesn’t she, Mallory?”

  Mallory just gave me one of her token frosty smiles before going back to whatever was so important on her phone.

  “I’ve got the helicopter ready to take you over the border to Avlion whenever you want to leave.”

  “Thanks, I—”

  The door to the throne room boomed opened.

  “You wanted to see me, sir—”

  Damon froze, his face paling as he stood like a statue three steps into my father’s the throne room.

  “Ah, Captain Hunt!” My dad gave one of his famous beaming smiles as he beckoned Damon forward. “Yes, yes, please come in.”

  Damon’s jaw twitched as his eyes darted quickly to me.

  “Do you know my daughter, the Princess Adele?”

  Damon turned to face me fully, and I could feel myself shiver under that dark gaze of his.

  “Pleasure to meet you, Your Highness,” he said stiffly, but with just enough purr to his voice that I heard it.

  “Uh, same,” I said quickly.

  “Sire, I can come back later when—”

  “Nonsense. I just wanted to see how your report was going on front.”

  Damon nodded stiffly and for the first time, I caught a real look at the military man behind the wildly sexy man I’d fallen for.

  “I’ve just finished and submitted a copy to your offices, sire. They’re caving, in short. Your idea of a peace accord in exchange for more representation in parliament seems to be agreeable to even the m
ost hardened of the secessionists.

  My dad smiled quietly.

  “Oh my plan, was it?”

  He raised a brow at Damon, who merely looked straight ahead, all formal military man.

  “Yes, sire.”

  Dad shook his head. “I seem to remember that being your idea, Captain. And a damned good one at that.”

  Damon smiled a small, quick smile. “Thank you, sire.”

  His eyes darted to mine once more, and just the quickest flicker of fire there in his eyes was enough to get me shivering with want for him.

  “I’ll leave you to your family then.”

  “Excellent work, Captain.”

  Damon bowed formally once more, before turning and striding from the room. My dad whistled and shook his head.

  “Hell of a soldier, that man.”

  “Oh, is he?”

  “Absolutely unrelenting in getting what he wants.”

  I tried to swallow the heat from my face.

  Damon had told me about him being a Captain in the Royal Guard, of course, and of the ongoing campaign he’d been on in the hills fighting the separatists. But seeing him like that, in full uniform, and in full “soldier” mode had been something new.

  Not to mention insanely sexy.

  “He’s a brute is what he is,” Mallory said with a wave of her hand. “Total savage.”

  My father sighed. “Now, my dear, it’s his job, after all.”

  I frowned. “A savage?”

  “Oh, it’s nothing you need to worry yourself with, my—”

  “He’s a killing machine is what he is,” Mallory spat, a sour look on his face. “Honestly, Lorne, the man terrifies me.”

  A knot formed in my stomach.

  “Killing machine?”

  Damon had told me a lot about himself over the last few days. I knew about his painful divorce, his desire to help and make the world a better place by enlisting in the Royal Guard. And of course I new he was in an active campaign, and I’d considered the idea that he’d shot at people. But killing machine?

  My dad frowned at Mallory before turning back to me. “Our dear Captain Hunt just has a bit of a reputation is all.”

  I chill went through me. “What sort of reputation?”