by Vivian Wood
His lips found mine in a kiss, setting out to prove just how wrong I really was. I melted into his embrace, and he took my mouth savagely but in a way that made me feel protected, like I was the only one that mattered, and he, the only one who could hurt me. His tongue explored the inside of my mouth, gently pushing against mine in a game of testing my limits.
Finally, he pulled back, smirking at me. The gesture made him even more ridiculously attractive, which made me sigh out loud in exasperation.
“I want to hate you,” I muttered, more to myself than to him. But he overheard me, laughing out loud and shaking his head.
“I bet you do, chérie. Such a different girl tonight than you were six months ago… I’m excited to learn more about you.”
His fingers wandered up my arm, up, up and up until they touched the hollow at the base of my throat, running his fingertips over the empty gold collar around my neck.
“I bet you’d like to see this fill up with stones,” he muttered in my ear, and I hated myself for responding to his wicked games.
“I doubt you’re able to fight this magnetism between us, or are you going to surprise me by packing your bags the first night?” he asked me with raised eyebrows, not giving me a chance to respond. His hand left my neck, and I felt the loss of it like a punch to the stomach. “I don’t think you’ll give up that easily. And I love toying with you too much to let you walk out. Come on, we’re going back. The elimination’s going to start any second now, we can’t miss it.”
His fingers wrapped possessively around my arm, lightly guiding me back to the house. When we came into view of the other guests, he let go of me, grinning mischievously and pressing a finger against his lips to remind me to keep our secret kiss just between us.
I nodded and followed him into the house, lingering just behind him. I could still feel the touch of his lips, and I licked my own to taste him, relishing the feeling.
In moments after arriving back inside, Olivier was swept up by the sea of guests and women, each one of them demanding his attention. I was left on my own, and I tried not to let it get to me, though I missed him standing by me as I made my way back into the hall. Conflicting feelings raged through my mind, making my dig my nails into the palms of my hands.
How could I let him do this to me? I had a clear goal in mind when I came to Luxuria. I needed his money. Falling in love with him wasn’t part of the plan, yet I already felt the unmistakable pull he had on me.
“There you are!”
I turned around to face Zara, whose attractive face was lit up by a big smile, illuminated by the candlelight in the expansive ballroom.
“You need to tell me everything that happened,” she gushed, and her enthusiasm got the better of me, making me grin in response. “What happened with the Prince?”
“We just talked for a while,” I told her in hushed tones.
“You’re definitely not going home tonight,” she groaned, and I silently agreed with her, though the quiet fear that Olivier might be forced to get rid of me still made my stomach tie up in knots. “But I might go. He didn’t like me that much. God, why do I have to be so boring?”
“You’re not boring,” I told her firmly. “And if Olivier can’t see that, he’s a fool.”
She giggled, giving me an astonished look and saying, “Boy, you really don’t mince your words.”
“What’s the point?” I shrugged. “I am who I am. It’s better he finds that out now than down the lane. And if he still likes me, good. If he doesn’t, he never deserved me anyway.”
Zara looked at me with newfound respect, nodding furiously when we were interrupted by the sound of light instrumental music. The elimination process was beginning.
Self-consciously, I touched my fingers to the collar around my throat, feeling the empty spots where jewels would be added if I made it long enough through the competition.
I hoped Olivier believed in our connection enough to keep me around.
All of us gathered in the hall, with the thirteen of us girls standing in the center.
He stood at the right end of the banquet hall. There was a small table next to him with a metal tray, filled with rose quartz stones that I assumed would be placed in the chosen girls’ collars.
Everything would be decided in the next few minutes, and my heart hammered in my chest. I was fairly certain he would pick me, but doubt was getting the better of me. What if he’d changed his mind? Zara had told me he’d spoken to Freya earlier. Would he pick her over me?
Olivier took a deep breath and called out the first name while my fingernails dug into the palms of my hands, eliciting a gasp of pain.
“Amber.”
A smile lit up my face and I stepped forward while the crowd muttered. My heart had slowed down, and now a triumphant glow warmed me right from the inside. He’d picked me! I thought to myself ecstatically. Me, the Westminster nobody, over all the other girls. I walked right up to him, holding my head high.
“Will you let me place this stone in your collar, Amber?” he asked in that deep gravelly voice.
“Of course,” I whispered.
He grinned at me as he took one of the stones, gently touching my neck while he placed the stone in its spot. I was shivering, trembling on the edge as his fingers brushed my skin.
My panties were wet, and I craved for him to do so much more than just touch my neck. I wanted him to grab me, kiss me in front of all those people. But at the same time, I understood why he couldn’t do that. He was the crown prince, after all.
Something passed between us while we were standing up there, barely detectible yet obvious to every single person in that ballroom. I could feel waves of displeasure coming from his mother, who was standing a little off to the side. The rest of the crowd seemed as enchanted as I was.
He showed me to the side and I hung my head, unable to hold his gaze for another second as I moved to stand with the queen. I could feel her eyes, staring at me with a burning intensity. She didn’t like me one bit, it was obvious now. I would try to convince her I wasn’t some floozy out to get her son, but I had a feeling I’d have to do a lot of convincing.
I turned my attention back to the other girls while Olivier called out another name.
“Freya.”
Jealousy bubbled in the pit of my stomach as the willowy blonde stepped forward, shooting me a triumphant glance. I hate her, I thought. I watched Olivier placing the rose quartz on her collar and tried to remain as calm as possible, but my stomach was twisted into knots with anger. When Freya was done, she came to stand next to me, purposefully bumping her shoulder into mine.
The next girl he called forward was Camilla, a young Italian girl I’d only exchanged a few words with. Two cousins followed, French girls whom I knew as the daughters of a lord. Then Monica, a gorgeous model, Violetta, a Spanish beauty, and Kendy, a stunning African beauty who carried herself with dignity none of the others had.
My eyes connected with Zara’s from across the room. I could tell she was nervous, and I offered her a reassuring smile. I hoped she’d be chosen. I’d already grown fond of her.
Olivier picked Safiya next. I’d spoken to Safiya a little, and learned she was a scholar who was intrigued by mysteries and art. After her, he picked Eva, a girl with similar hair to mine, red as a flame.
Now, only three girls remained. The tension in the room was palpable.
One was Asya, a stunningly beautiful Turkish princess who wore a sad expression every time I looked at her, but it didn’t deter from her breathtaking beauty.
The next was Stephanie, the girl the Queen had wanted Olivier to meet. It was a wonder he hadn’t called her yet. She was very obviously the Queen’s favorite, and he was pretty much forced to move her on to the next stage of the competition or risk upsetting his mother.
And then of course, Zara, whom I wanted to move forward most of all.
“Asya,” Olivier said, and the Turkish girl stepped forward, a small smile tugging at the corners o
f her lips.
It was the first time I’d seen her smile, and I realized just how much competition she would be. She was beautiful when she was sad, but when she smiled, her eyes lit up like nothing else. Olivier seemed to notice it too and whispered something in her ear as he placed the stone on her collar. She giggled, and jealousy twisted a knife in my stomach. My nerves were getting the better of me. I was starting to doubt not only Olivier’s affection for me, but my own confidence.
Maybe this whole selection was a mistake, I thought, panicking. Maybe I shouldn’t have come at all. I obviously don’t belong here.
With only two girls left, my nails dug into my palms again. Zara was surely going home. There was no way Olivier would pick her over his mother’s favorite. But when I glanced at the queen, I noticed how nervous she seemed, biting her lower lip and glancing between Stephanie and her son.
“Zara.”
The word rang out in the room, followed by the gasps and whispers of the people there as my friend triumphantly stepped forward. She accepted Olivier’s stone gracefully and came to stand next to me with bright eyes and a big grin on her face. I squeezed her hand, and we both looked at the scene unfolding before our eyes.
Big, fat tears were sliding down Stephanie’s face as Olivier said his goodbyes. He said something we couldn’t hear, and she nodded, hiccupping as the tears came in even harder.
The queen’s mouth was set in a thin line, and she rushed to Stephanie, pushing her son out of her way as she leaned down to say something to the girl.
But it was over. Olivier had made his decision, and he’d sent the girl his mother liked most home.
He turned around to face the rest of us, looking right at me. I couldn’t help the smile on my face, and my expression was mirrored in his. Twelve girls left to beat…
Chapter Six
Olivier
After the elimination ceremony, I was more than ready to go to bed. I didn’t have the energy to deal with my mother, knowing she would dispute my decision about sending Stephanie home. But what else was there for me to do? If I hadn’t sent Stephanie home, I’d risk upsetting Amber. But more importantly than that, I needed to stay true to myself, and I knew Stephanie was never meant for me.
I didn’t like timid, shy little girls who cowered under the weight of my gaze.
No, my taste was for fiery women who fought back, wanting me to push them past every limit. My taste was for girls like Amber. But at the same time, I couldn’t let her become too cocky, thinking she was at the top of the food chain. There were still plenty of other girls in the game, and I was ready to play.
I did my best to avoid the Queen on my way out of the ballroom, but the woman had eyes everywhere. Just as I was about to leave the banquet hall, she cornered me in the hallway, her long nails digging into my skin.
“Olivier!” she hissed, and I turned around to face her, mentally preparing myself for the argument I knew was looming. “Don’t you walk away from me.”
“What is it, mother?” I asked, feeling tired. “I don’t have time to argue right now.”
“Then change your decision,” she whined. “Just send one of the other girls home. That awful Amber. Send her home!”
I laughed out loud, saying, “There’s no way that’s happening, mother.”
Her mouth set in a thin line and she stared at me with such anger in her eyes it was a wonder I didn’t catch on fire from the power of her rage.
“You don’t need girls like her here,” she said dismissively, waving her hand in the air. “She’s a nuisance, and she’s getting in the way. There are so many lovely girls who are worthy of your attention. What’s so special about this Amber girl, anyway?”
I bit back the retort I was going to use, instead grinning at my mother.
“Are you done, my Queen? I’d like to go to bed.”
She huffed and puffed, but when I didn’t relent, her expression turned pleading.
“Please, at least consider keeping Stephanie,” she begged me. “She’s such a good match for you, my dear son. She would make a beautiful queen.”
“Mother, she doesn’t have the hint of a personality,” I groaned, rubbing the bridge of my nose. “She barely said two words to me. I can’t marry someone I don’t have a connection with.”
“Of course,” she hurried to say. “But she’s just a little bit shy. I’m sure she’ll come to if you just keep her around a little bit longer. Please, Olivier. I’m asking you not only as your mother, but as your Queen, too.”
“Well, you don’t get to make this decision for me,” I replied icily. “After all, I’ll be marrying the girl I choose and spending the rest of my life with her. So please, don’t make this any more difficult than it already is, mother.”
She glared at me and I could tell I’d pissed her off even more, but I didn’t have the energy to argue anymore. I just wanted to go to bed, though her rude remarks about anger made me eager to defy her further.
“Olivier.”
Just as I was about to leave, her hand wrapped around my forearm again. I turned to face her and I could tell she was desperate from the pleading look in her eyes.
“You can’t embarrass me by marrying some… commoner,” she managed to get out.
“She’s not a commoner,” I hissed. “She’s the woman I want. And if I hadn’t made a promise to father, I would have asked her to marry me a long time go.”
“But you should keep your options open,” she insisted in a hurry. “There are so many good-looking prospects here, Olivier. You should at least give some of these girls a chance!”
I sighed, and she struck while the iron was hot, delivering the words she knew would make all the difference as she touched her hand to my cheek, a gentle smile softening her harsh face.
“It’s what your father would have wanted,” she whispered.
I fought the urge to roll my eyes. She knew exactly where to strike to make it hurt the most, but I wasn’t going to let her have the pleasure of hurting me. Instead, my mouth set in a thin line and I walked away from her while she shouted my name. I didn’t want to deal with her anymore, and my resolve to pick Amber as the final girl only got stronger and stronger.
I couldn’t sleep.
My rest was restless, interrupted by countless thoughts, one prevalent need in the center of everything I did, demanding I listen to what it had to say.
Find Amber. Take Amber. Fuck Amber. Need Amber. Take her now.
After hours of tossing and turning, I deemed the voice impossible to ignore. I needed her. I needed my feisty redheaded beauty to whimper my name as she came. Only then would I be allowed to sleep.
I walked out of my room, past the guards who were half-asleep in the middle of the night. Both of them stood up straighter as I made my way past them, and I grinned at them both, slipping them some money.
“This stays between us,” I muttered, and they were eager to nod. It wasn’t even about the money. Luxuria was very traditional, and I knew a lot of people there already saw me as a ruler as opposed to my mother. Soon enough, I would become their King, but in their eyes, I already ruled them as my royal subjects.
I walked down the hallway, past sleeping guards who pretended not to see me. I entered the girls’ quarter, the scent of baby powder and vanilla following me as I found Amber’s room. I hesitated with my hand on the handle, knowing full well my mother would chastise me for what I was doing. But it had the opposite effect – instead of letting her be, it only made me more eager to have her.
Forbidden fruit always tasted the sweetest, after all.
I walked into the room quietly, closing the door behind me and standing above Amber’s bed.
She was asleep.
Her sweet, petite body was curled up in a ball in her bed, and I stared down at her sleeping form feeling my cock twitch with how much I wanted her.
I’d walked into her room unnoticed, and Amber was still blissfully unaware of my presence. I didn’t want her waking up though. It would
be so much more fun to touch her while she was sleeping. Being the prince of the castle meant I could go anywhere without it getting back to my mother. The servants feared me, especially the women, perhaps even more so than the Queen. And I’d set my sights on Amber. After the Queen had cornered me, I decided not to deny myself any longer. If I wanted Amber, Amber I would get.
My fingers were eager to touch her, stroke that pale skin and feel the softness of her tits beneath my fingertips. I loomed over the bed, knowing a single touch of my hands could cause her to wake up.
“Fucking stunning,” I muttered to myself.
She stirred in her sleep in response to my words, but didn’t wake up. I needed to touch her. It had been so long since her body had submitted to mine completely, and I was eager for more.
She was wearing nothing but a dark pink chemise adorned with lace. There were no undergarments under her clothes, the outline of her body visible under the luxurious fabric. Her nipples peaked under the sating, and her pussy was outlined perfectly by the form-fitting material.
I leaned down against her body, letting my fingers wander over her exquisite face. I touched her forehead, the dimples in her cheeks, her strong jaw and the fullness of her lips. She was heartbreakingly beautiful and I had to have her.
“My sweet chérie,” I whispered. “You’re going to be all mine soon enough.”
I let my hands wander lower, over the hollow in her throat and her slender neck, touching the sweet spots I knew would make her gasp were she awake. She was still wearing the collar, of course. I knew full well she wouldn’t be able to take it off unless she got eliminated from the selection process.
I went lower and lower, tugging on the duvet covering her sinful body and uncovering inch after inch of pale, creamy skin.
I pulled her nightgown up, and my cock hardened at the sight of her vulnerable, petite body. I was moments away from reaching into my pants and stroking my overly eager dick. Was what I was doing wrong? Was I a sick fuck for touching her when she couldn’t give me her consent? It probably was, but I didn’t give a damn. I wanted her, and nothing or no-one would be able to stop me from having my sweet princess.