No Prince Charming

by J. C. Daniels

Michael’s hand rested on my hip, a mirror of Ren, and a breath shuddered out of me as I let him pull me so close that not even air separated us. It didn’t make me feel any better to realize he wasn’t unaffected by me.

  Against my belly, I could feel the hard, firm length of his cock. The green of his eyes glowed and he watched me as though he wished he could swallow me whole.

  Hunger. Hunger…and memories.

  I recognized both. I lived with their ache every day. It would have been easier to handle if I knew he didn’t want me. Desire hadn’t ever been the problem. He’d wanted me ages ago, and it wasn’t a surprise that he wanted me now.

  It was nothing new.

  The problem had been him not wanting me enough.

  By contrast, Ren was at my back and it was pretty damn clear he wasn’t unaffected by this either.

  I was trapped between two men—two men I’d known intimately—and I couldn’t lie and pretend I wasn’t affected.

  We moved together and I almost whimpered. It felt so good. He felt so good…Michael. Being with him, having him close felt so right.

  I closed my eyes when he dipped his head to nuzzle my neck. That didn’t help. It made it that much more intimate. I couldn’t retreat against Ren either, because if I retreated just a half an inch, Michael would move an inch closer and being more firmly pressed between them was not going to help.

  So I opened my eyes and made myself scan the crowd. I hadn’t even realized it but Michael was doing a damn fine job working us along the dance floor, which made it easier for me to scan the dancers, looking for the victims.

  I hissed out a breath between my teeth. There were a lot. It seemed as though every third or fourth person had been touched at some point—the touch of a succubus or incubus was unmistakable—a psychic shadow. Fortunately for us, it had been a light touch. Nothing deep…at least not yet.

  Somehow, Ren got lost in the crowd. Too many bodies in such a small space and, as the crowd swallowed him up, Michael took quick advantage. In the blink of an eye he had us moving to the far side of the dance floor. “Not a very graceful partner, your friend, Ren,” he said, his voice cool, dispassionate. Like he didn’t care.

  But when I lifted my head and looked at him, I saw the jealousy and anger burning inside his eyes.

  “Oh, he’s got plenty of grace. But that’s not exactly what drew me to him either,” I said, giving him a flippant smile.

  “Pardon my curiosity, but exactly what did draw you to him?” He toyed with the laces on my corset, his fingers brushing against bare skin.

  He’s your exact opposite.

  But I didn’t say that out loud.

  “He’s wicked fun in the sack for one,” I said, giving him a hard smile.

  Whatever he might have said in reply, I don’t know. The next moment, somebody came up behind me—fucking rubbing against my ass. I jolted in surprise before I could stop it. Instinctively, I reached for my knife, but then I remembered—no weapons. No way to hide much of anything in clothes that fit like a second skin.

  But Michael was already handling it. He moved me to the side and then shot his hand out, fisting it in the front of the other man’s chainmail shirt. He jerked him close and I had no trouble hearing him as he said, “Touch her again and I’ll rip your dick off and feed it to you. In pieces.”

  The guy was either stoned…or stupid. He leered at me and then looked back at Michael. “Hey, man, if you don’t want me eying your piece, why’d you bring her?”

  Michael shoved him hard enough that he went crashing to the floor, then he pulled me close, stroking my back with a possessive hand. He cupped my ass, but I couldn’t very well shove away from him without drawing any more attention to us. If such a thing was possible. Half the dancers had stopped to watch us.

  Ren emerged from the crowd, his black eyes serious, glinting with a threat.

  “Because she likes to watch,” Michael said with a wicked grin.

  The man on the floor took one look at the two of them and started scrambling away.

  There was a break in the music just then—of course. Which meant quite a few people heard his voice.

  I so do not like to watch. Blood rushed to my cheeks as people looked at me. They were all grinning, grinning at the three of us, knowledge glinting in their eyes.

  Then I lost sight of their faces because Michael was kissing me, and Ren was at my back, playing up his role as well. He seemed to be getting really into it too, damn it.

  It was actually easier to focus on Michael, easier to lower my shields just a bit and let the buzz of his jealous energy flow over me.

  But it wasn’t going to be easy for long, because he was getting into it too.

  Michael’s hand tugged sharply on my hair, angling my head up. The other gripped my hip, hauling me close. His lower body moved against mine and despite my embarrassment, despite the audience, despite the demons I could sense in the air, I couldn’t keep from responding. As I rocked against Michael, Ren rotated his hips against my ass. They echoed every movement I made, moving in tandem. A dark, vibrant rainbow of need exploded inside my head.

  Michael lifted me and I instinctively gripped his waist with my legs, arching my back. I fell back against Ren’s solid, steady heat and gasped as his hands came around me, cupping my breasts. A hard, driving rhythm started to pulse through the air and I shuddered.

  Distantly, I realized we weren’t the center of attention any more, although some people were still looking at us. But not for anything other than voyeuristic tendencies. As Michael pulled his mouth from mine and started to kiss his way down my neck, I rested my head against Ren’s shoulder, tried to concentrate.

  The job. Focus on the job.

  Concentrate. Job. Work. Demons. Innocent people. Concen—oh, shit.

  Ren had somehow worked the top of the bodice down enough that my breasts were exposed, the nipples swollen and tight. As he pinched one, Michael bit the other. Then he started to move me—back and forth—over the swollen ridge of his cock. Couldn’t think—

  To my utter shock, to my utter dismay, I realized I was this close to coming. Twisting between them, I gasped out, “Stop.”

  Ren swore. Just before he stepped away, he muttered, “Oh, come now, poppet. It was starting to get fun too.”

  But Michael was still rocking against me, stroking me, and oh…oh…

  “Stop it, Michael.”

  “We’re still being watched. Just trying to blend. We have a job to do, remember?” He kissed his way up my chest, along my collarbone. As he lowered me to my feet, he nuzzled my neck, then nipped at my earlobe. His voice was light, easy, playful. He could’ve been teasing.

  But somehow I didn’t think he was. Maybe it’s because I didn’t want him to be.

  I shuddered, whimpered. But somewhere inside me, I didn’t want to believe that—I didn’t want to believe this was just a job.

  The devil made me do it, I swear. Turning my mouth to his, I whispered against his lips, “Is that the only reason…the job?”

  “Fuck, no.” His mouth crushed against mine and even though I was no longer pinned between their bodies, even though all Michael was doing was kissing me, I knew if I didn’t stop this now, I was going to humiliate myself and come right there on the dance floor.

  Tearing my mouth away, I looked around and staggered, falling back against Ren. His arms came around him, holding me protectively.

  I closed my eyes and tried to get my body under control.

  What in the hell was I doing?

  If I didn’t know better, I’d almost swear one of the damned succubi had infected me. Hunger screamed at me. I needed this—whether I needed it because it was Michael, whether it was both of them, whether it was some fantasy I’d never even considered—I needed this.

  But it terrified me. My pride and my bruised heart couldn’t handle it. “Please stop, Michael. I…I don’t want this to happen with an audience.”

  Too late, I realized what I’d admitted.

&
nbsp; That with an audience bit? I really should have left it off.

  Seconds later, we were off the floor. Somehow, even though he’d never been here—to my knowledge—Michael managed to find some semi-private little alcove and then I was trapped between him and Ren and the two of them were rocking against me, their hands all over me. Ren muttered in my ear and for once, the wise-cracking comedian aspect was all gone and brutal, wicked hunger was all I could feel from him. Michael’s mouth was on mine and he kissed me like he was starving, dying for the taste of me.

  I felt hands at my back—whether it was Michael or Ren, I couldn’t even tell, but it took them less than a minute to strip me out of my corset.

  I’d be scandalized later. The wicked, wicked prince had always been able to make me do things I never should do. And Ren…in the past hundred years we’d spent more than one night together and he knew my body probably better than I did.

  As Ren plumped my breasts together, Michael caught one nipple in his mouth, scoring it with his teeth and then stroking the minor pain with his tongue.

  All of a sudden, I couldn’t care less that I was semi-naked and trapped between two men with hundreds of strangers just feet away.

  I didn’t care.

  I didn’t care that anybody could—and a number of people did—look in and watch as Michael dragged down the zipper of my leather pants.

  I didn’t care that anybody could see as Ren slipped his hand inside to find me completely naked underneath.

  “Naughty little princess,” Ren teased. His voice was tight with strain as he circled his thumb around my clit. “You’re not wearing any knickers.”

  I didn’t care that anybody was there to witness as Michael shoved my pants to my knees and knelt on the floor. He knocked Ren’s hand out of the way and pressed his mouth to my sex and I didn’t care.

  He brought me to climax with talented, oh-so-clever fingers and his wicked, wicked tongue. Dazed, I sagged back against Ren, certain—convinced—I could find rest in his arms, maybe a few seconds to breathe, to think.

  But as Michael rose to his feet, Ren whirled me around and then I was leaning against Michael as Ren went down on me. He went to push my knees wider but the pants at my knees prevented that and he growled against me, shoving the pants as far down as they could go. As his tongue slid along the folds between my thighs, Michael caught my face and angled it around. His mouth crushed mine and I screamed into Michael’s mouth as Ren brought me to climax.

  He kissed me like a man dying of thirst and I was the only water that could quench that thirst.

  Need echoed inside me.

  “Bloody fucking hell, darling girl…” he rasped against my lips. “I need you.”

  Need…hell, I understand that. Even after all this time, I needed him. Longed for him. I suspected I even still loved him.

  I might have even told him that if I hadn’t felt an ominous, hungry presence.

  They felt it at the same time I did. I could tell. Their bodies stiffened, only a bit, but the spike in the air could be nothing else.

  None of us let it show.

  Casually, his gestures slow and unhurried, Ren straightened, easing my pants back up, concealing my lower body. As Ren fastened them, Michael turned away and plucked my corset from the floor. He faced me just as Ren finished fastening my pants.

  As the hungry succubus lingered near the door, Michael lifted a finger and twirled it in a circle. Obediently, I turned around, presenting him my back.

  I looked into Ren’s eyes, blushing and still half in shock over what had just happened.

  This was nothing I’d ever even fantasized about and I had a pretty healthy fantasy life. Michael brought the corset around me and Ren adjusted it over my breasts, smiling down at me, heat and humor in that saturnine smile. “Stop looking so shocked, Princess. I keep thinking about how much fun it could be to shock you even more.”

  “I don’t think that’s possible,” I said, and my voice shook as I said it.

  Like he’d done so a thousand times—hell, he probably had done it a thousand times, at least—Michael had me back in my corset, his hands quick and capable.

  I turned to him, tried to figure out what we should do next. I linked my hand with Ren’s, holding onto him desperately as Michael cupped the back of my head and slanted his mouth over mine. A few seconds later, he lifted his head and gave me a wolfish smile that didn’t reflect in his grim eyes. “Come on, darling girl…let’s get out of here. You’ve had your fun, now we get to have ours.”

  Ours…

  Oh, hell. He wasn’t serious…right?

  “But…”

  He lifted a hand, placed two fingers over my lips. “Our turn,” he said. His voice was hard and flat, brooking no disobedience.

  Like I really gave a damn. He couldn’t order me around.

  And if I suspected taking a turn had anything to do with it, I wouldn’t have left unless the place was on fire.

  We needed to get out of here. The look in Michael’s eyes, grim and cold, was enough to do what no amount of orders could. It didn’t help that Ren had that same serious, flat look on his face. He was also stroking a hand down the long black duster he wore. Although I’d told him no weapons, I knew he’d have something tucked inside there and if we stayed much longer, he’d be drawing a weapon.

  Nothing made him feel secure like whipping out a machete. I knew that from experience too.

  They wanted out of here, and so did I.

  Michael was right.

  I hadn’t been prepared for this many demons in one place.

  We couldn’t handle them until we dealt with the king or queen, and first we had to find who it was.

  Besides, if we stayed here much longer, I don’t know what would happen between the three of us. Part of me yearned to find out. The rest of me knew my heart couldn’t handle anything that had to do with Michael.

  Ren—he was fine. He was safe as far as matters of the heart went. But Michael, he was a different story altogether.

  Even if matters of the heart weren’t involved, I didn’t think my inner demons could deal with that particular issue. Not in this lifetime.

  CHAPTER THREE

  I didn’t quite make it home before it hit me.

  Part of me had expected it, but it still managed to catch me off-guard.

  The memories.

  Pain.

  Fear.

  Cruel, dark laughter.

  Ren, bless his soul, didn’t say anything, and when we reached the house he kept his distance. But I stumbled halfway up the walk and when he reached out to steady me, I latched onto him and didn’t let go.

  “Shhhh…”

  He lifted me into his arms and murmured against my brow, soft and soothing words that made no sense.

  One thing about Ren, although I knew he was probably dying to ask, dying to do something other than just hold me while I battled those inner ghosts, he understood the value of silence. He had his own inner demons and if anybody could understand, it was him.

  It was close to an hour before the fear finally eased its grip and even longer before I could manage to speak.

  My corset gaped as I eased back away from him, and I shot him a look, forced a smile. “You’re such a letch,” I told him.

  Somber-eyed, he brushed my damp hair back from my face and said, “It can’t be easy to breathe in that contraption. I always hated them.”

  Since it was already half-off, I turned my back to him and let him strip it away. “I never cared for them myself, but you must admit they certainly make a statement.”

  “Indeed. They state, ‘I’m more interested in looking pretty than breathing’.”

  I cuddled back against his chest and sighed as his arms came around me.

  “This was our fault,” he murmured.

  I glanced at him, puzzled. “What?”

  “I’ve known you for nearly a century, Elle. I’ve never seen you so lost in your memories before. Bleeding hell, that wasn’t lost in you
r memories—you were drowning in them.”

  “It happens.”

  “Yes…and something set it off. Your long-lost prince and I.”

  Sighing, I absently toyed with one of the polished pewter buttons on his coat. “He’s not my prince,” I said. He never had been. He’d been claimed before I’d even met him. “And you’re wrong. It’s not your fault.”

  The men responsible were nothing but dust. Scum, not even history remembered them.

  I did though. Not their faces, or their names. But the sound of their laughter. The cruelty in their hands. The pain—

  “Don’t hand me that,” Ren bit off, his voice harsh. “I know you, Elle. I know you too well.”

  What was I supposed to say?

  I couldn’t tell him. I’d told only one other soul and that was Will. Nobody else knew. I’d prefer to keep it that way and I certainly couldn’t tell Ren. He had probably pieced together enough of it, but I’d be damned if I’d share those humiliating, horrifying memories.

  “Ren, it isn’t your fault.” I made myself look at him as I spoke. I didn’t want him blaming himself, not for my nightmares.

  A calculating look entered his eyes. I recognized it and before he even said anything I knew what he was thinking.

  “Not mine, then? How about your charming friend?” He cupped my cheek in his hand, watching me closely.

  He’d know if I lied. It wasn’t a gift of his—it was simply him. He knew me too well and I couldn’t lie to him without him knowing.

  But fortunately, I didn’t have to lie on this. Curling my fingers around his wrist, I gave him a faint smile and murmured, “You know better than that, Ren. He’s one of us.”

  “Not always. And that bastard Will has a fucking strange sense of irony. I can just see—”

  “No.” I shook my head. “Will’s a bit…unusual, but he’s not cruel.”

  A bark of laughter escaped him and he rested his head back against the couch. I didn’t even remember how we got inside the house, much less onto the couch. Sliding off his lap, I curled up next to him and watched as his laughter faded away.

  “Will…not cruel? Princess, perhaps you don’t know the man I speak of—tall chap, white hair, has the devil’s own arrogance…sound familiar?”