The Dare Collection September 2018. Stefanie London
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step out of my shoes and let her lower my pants and briefs to the floor. Then I step out of those as well.
“Oh!” she says, staring at my erection. Then, “Oh.” This time with less shock and something more like reverence. “Can I...touch it?”
I chuckle, grateful for her act of levity, even if she didn’t mean it.
“Here,” I say, taking her hand and wrapping it around my shaft. I growl at the feel of her gripping me, and her mouth falls open in a perfect O.
“What now?” she asks, her voice cracking on the second word.
“Stroke it,” I demand. “From the root all the way to the top, keeping the pressure firm.”
She obeys, teasing me as she moves achingly slow until she reaches the tip, precome leaking onto my sensitive skin. As if she’s done it a hundred times before, she swirls her thumb over my slick skin.
“Fucking hell, Princess,” I grind out over gritted teeth. “Are you sure you haven’t done this before?”
She lets out a nervous laugh, and her dark eyes meet mine. “It’s instinct, I guess. And something about you makes me feel at ease.” She slides down over my length and repeats the movement again. Then again. And Christ if I don’t think my knees are about to buckle.
“Me?” I say, my voice rough. “I make you feel at ease? The monster of a prince who isn’t even welcome in his own country? You want me to take the most precious gift you have to give?”
Because suddenly this isn’t a game anymore. It’s real. So fucking real my chest hurts. Because this woman deserves better than I could ever give.
Pleasure, yes. I have plenty of that in store. But how can that be enough for her when she knows what her future holds beyond this night?
She tugs me toward her, and before I know what is happening, I’m between her legs, my tip stroking her folds as she sucks in a series of sharp breaths.
I groan. She’s wet, warm and soft as silk. “What the fuck are you doing?”
She presses her chest to mine, squeezing my cock between her thighs.
“There’s no such thing as love at first sight,” she says, echoing her words from the Lovers’ Leap. “Take me, Damien. However you want.”
Before I can say anything in response, she tangles her fingers in my hair and pulls me to her, crushing her lips against mine.
You’re right, Princess. There’s no such thing.
Juliet
Damien feasts on me like a man possessed. Moaning, I surrender to his tongue’s wicked assault, savoring each possessive glide. His mouth is everywhere as he treats my body like a triple-scoop chocolate fudge sundae with a cherry on top. I am reduced to making halting, mewling whimpers like a lost kitten.
My entire life I have felt alone, but in this moment, I am found.
“What happens next?” I gasp as he licks up the side of my belly. “You insert your penis in my vagina and we commence procreation?”
“Procreation?” he barks out a laugh. “Jesus, Princess. Imagine taking the Nightgardin throne with an Edenvale bastard in your belly.”
I flush, reality returning for an unwelcome moment. “I’m sorry. Growing up I was never allowed to call sexual congress by any other word than procreation.”
He stands and tilts my chin so I am staring up at him dead-on with no escape. No shame either. I’m utterly naked and at his mercy, and yet feel safer than I have in years.
“We’re not having sexual congress either, my lady.”
“No?” My voice is husky.
He shakes his head and leans in, his lips pressing to my ear, nipping my sensitive skin until an enticing heat spreads down my neck, radiating to my breasts. “This is the part where you say, ‘Fuck me, Damien.’”
The word surges through my core like a jolt of electricity. “I... I don’t say such things.”
He smugly arches a single brow. “Too bad then. Because you don’t get my cock unless you ask. No, scratch that. Unless you demand it. Because tonight’s lesson is this...” He strokes the ruddy erection standing at attention between his muscular legs. “This isn’t a penis. It’s a cock. My cock. And I don’t just put it in you.”
I press my hip bones against him. “What...do you do?”
He feigns a solemn expression, but by now I know better. “Utter the secret password and you’ll discover all.”
“P-password?” I stumble.
“Fuck me, Damien.”
I lick my dry lips and avert my gaze to his biceps, perfectly sculpted and coursing with thick veins. Goose bumps pepper my skin as I mumble the words.
“I’m sorry,” he replies coolly. “I didn’t quite catch that.”
I repeat myself a fraction louder, my hands balled against my sides.
He kisses me deeply, his tongue teasing mine in leisurely, long licks. “Still not quite hearing you.”
I grab his chin and force him to look me straight in the eye. “Fuck me, Damien,” I announce, loud and clear—so much so that I don’t recognize my own voice. Because no such words would ever spill from my lips. Yet here they are. “Fuck me...hard?” I add the second part to my question on impulse, but it makes me achy and wet all the same.
He growls his approval. “Good girl.”
He scoops me into his arms before I can draw another breath and carries me to a bedroom with an impressive king-size bed.
I expect him to toss me down and ravage my body like a depraved animal.
Instead, he eases me onto the mattress as if I am a rare and delicate gift.
“You are every inch a queen.” A low rumble vibrates through his chest. His gaze full of dark promise...and something that I’d be tempted to describe as wonder.
Sweat mists my fevered skin as invisible flames fire through my belly. I know, I know, that I don’t believe in love—especially with someone I just met—but at that moment, I swear I fall for him...just a little. Enough that I’m dizzy and giddy at the thought of his hands on me again.
“What do we do now?” I ask.
“Now I get some protection so we can fuck without doing any of that procreating you are all so fond of in this realm.”
He turns and walks to his dresser, opening a top drawer. I admire his firm, masculine ass. I memorize the indents on either side of his buttocks and the way his hard quads bulge with muscle.
When he returns, he clutches a small silver square.
“How does the protection...work?” I grimace. But in this such case, I was never meant to be protected, for what queen would want protection from her king?
“Watch and learn.” He rips the corner with his teeth and removes an object that I don’t recognize. Then he places it on the edge of his...cock...and rolls it down.
“Oh, I understand!” I exclaim, catching on at last. “You are going to use that to catch all of the semen.”
His laugh is no more than a single gruff bark, but nevertheless, it’s genuine. “You’re an odd little duck, you know that?”
I raise my chin. “No one addresses me like that.” But then I drop the fake imperious routine and crack a grin. “All right, all right, you win. I am as odd a duck as there ever was. Sorry.”
“No. Never apologize.” His nostrils flare. “Your innocence, it’s a rare thing this day and age.”
“Perhaps,