Secrets and Desire (Erotic Romance Bundle)

by Dalia Daudelin

  "Come on, Mel, we need to go," she commands once her sister is free and covered. Mel stays put, shaking in shock and terror. "Now, Mel!" She pulls Mel up, and the two run out the door and down a long hallway. The two run for what seems like 10 minutes, trying to reach the doors at the end of the hall.

  As they burst from those doors, they are near the forest. They stop to catch their breath, but before long Brianna is pulling her towards the forest. "We need to hide, we don't have much time." Mel follows her sister, grateful to see her and have her help. Glancing behind her, she sees Shane chasing them with two women holding guns. Before they can start shooting, the girls are in the safety of the trees.

  Their running slows as they reach the river, where they both decide to rest. They're silent for a moment, listening for their pursuers, but all is quiet. Brianna flops down and puts her feet in the cold water. Mel can't relax yet, though, waiting for someone to appear to take her away again.

  "No one's coming, Mel. Sit down and rest." Brianna says. Mel looks at the back of her baby sister's head.

  "Where's Will? And Jake?" Mel's voice quivers.

  "Will's with Mary and Nathan, they're safe," she pauses. "I don't know where Jake is."

  Mel collapses to the ground, knees too weak to hold her. "We have to go back to get him!" Brianna just shakes her head and continues to soak her feet. There's a sudden clamoring of birds in the distance that both girls turn towards, trying to see what caused it. The snap of a branch sets both girls on their feet, ready to run.

  The snapping of twigs and leaves being stepped on comes closer, and closer. Shaking, Mel moves closer to her sister. A bush rustles a bit, and from behind it a boy steps forward.

  "Jake!" Mel rushes to him, embracing him. He winces in pain. "Oh! Sorry."

  "It's fine. Where is everyone else? Are they safe?"

  "Yeah, Brianna is just over-" she looks, but Brianna is gone. Jake raises his eyebrows at her. "Maybe she went to find the others. Let's stay here and wait for them."

  "Fine by me."

  Mel helps him over to the side of the river and disappears for a few moments to pick a few apples to snack on while they wait. They eat as darkness falls. "I'm sure Brianna will be back soon," she whispers, looking away from Jake.

  "Hey," he pulls her chin so she faces him. "I was tortured. Because of you." His green eyes pierce deep into hers. She doesn't comprehend the words at first, a questioning look crossing her face. "I could have died, and now I'm on the run. Because of you! Why did you have to talk me into playing guitar a year ago? Why did you have to sing?" He shoves her away and stands up. "You ruined everyone's life, Mel."

  The tears streaming down her face are hot, but the trying day has left her with few tears at all. She rises. "How dare you, Jake."

  "Whatever, whore."

  The slap leaves Jake stunned, rubbing at the stinging red mark on his cheek. He scoffs, and sets his jaw.

  "Goodbye, Mel."

  The boy she'd loved for years, the boy she was going to make a family with, was gone in that instant. Time seemed to freeze as he burst into thousands of birds, their wings fluttering loudly and creating a gust of wind that knocks her back. She watches from the ground as the birds fly away, and she's left alone in the forest.

  The moon is high in the sky now. The stars twinkle down on the beaten and crying girl whose entire life has come crashing down on her. She is still on the bank of the river, mosquitos biting her skin and small mammals running through the tall grass. Her tears salt the earth, killing any plants they land on.

  On her feet now, she's walking down the river. Shock has taken over, but she's cold and knows she needs to find shelter. Half a mile down from where she started, she stops at a deep part of the river. Staring into its depths, her mother's lullaby comes to her again and she knows what she must do.

  Mel spots a willow tree and removes some of the thin branches from it. Removing the belt from the doctor's robe, she finds a heavy rock and ties the belt around it. Next, she kneels and ties the other side of the belt around her neck. The vines go around her wrists, and then Mel picks up the rock. It's just heavy enough to hold her head under. She wades cautiously into the center of the river. Deep sobs wrack through her, threatening to topple her before she's ready.

  Mel closes her eyes. The rock slips from her hands as she exhales. As it hits the water, there's a snap.

  Opening her eyes, Mel finds herself on the side of the river, soaking wet. She's in the arms of Shane Nikola Freude.

  "Hello, birdy. Are you ready to come with me now?"

  "Yes."

  "Do you trust me?"

  "Completely."

  The sun awakens Melanie. Her eyes flutter softly open and a smile escapes as she stretches under her silk sheets. She looks next to her, but with a frown notices her lover is gone.

  Leaving the warmth of the bed, Melanie puts on her slippers and shuffles sleepily over to the window. There was a fresh snowfall last night, the first of the year. She leaves a puff of breath on the window and draws a small heart in it. A soft knock on the door announces her help. He ducks his head in.

  "Excuse me, miss. Your husband is on his way to see you. He wants to discuss plans for today."

  "Thank you, let him in when he gets here and then stand by the door. I want you in the room as usual." She waves the man off and opens her wardrobe. A light blue cashmere sweater with gray jeans are what she lays out on her bed before stepping into a long, hot shower. In it, she warms up her voice and practices one of her songs. If her husband is on his way here, it's likely she has a concert tonight.

  She cleans off the fog on the mirror after her shower, letting down her hair and brushing it out. She's come to like the straight hair weave, though she usually prefers a loose curl. Oils go in her hair, lotions on her skin. A small dab of red lipstick on her lips and Melanie finds herself presentable enough. Wrapping herself in a robe, she walks back into her bedroom.

  Her husband is waiting there for her, on her bed. He smiles and adjusts his glasses, running his fingers through his gray hair. She squeals with joy and runs over to him, both of them flopping on the bed. The other man watches the two, still in the room just as Melanie always likes it.

  "Hello, darling." He rubs her sides as she straddles him, heat emanating from her bare pussy. She's horny and he knows it.

  "What are we doing today?" She asks him as she kisses his neck. His hands wander to her ass cheeks, and then down further. One hands strokes her soft pussy lips, a finger slipping between them rubbing against her clit. The servant watches as the two fool around, the older man fingering the younger woman's tight pussy as she humps him, her robe riding up and giving the servant a clear view of her ass and pussy. She looks behind her and grins at the tent in his pants before unbuttoning her husband's.

  Sliding down a bit, she takes his meat into her mouth, bobbing up and down on it and enjoying the manly scent. The salty precum leaks onto her tongue as she gets him nice and hard. Straddling him again, she lowers herself onto him, taking the full girth into her sopping and horny cunt before stripping off her robe so her servant can see everything.

  Bouncing up and down on the older man's dick, her servant watches her tits jiggling on her chest, her nipples hard and in need of a pinch. Every time this happens, she allows him to go to the bathroom and take care of himself. Sometimes she even forces him to let her watch. His kinky mistress turns him on so bad, and he doesn't even know why.

  He sneaks a rub on his dick while he continues to watch, diligently, as Melanie fucks herself on her husbands thick meat, her moans and cries loud and making him even more horny. He can feel his own precum soaking his pants, as she never allows him to wear underwear.

  On a few occasions, she's even spanked him or put something in his bum, a practice he enjoys greatly. The two lovers ride to an orgasm, Melanie pinching her nipples and her husband slapping her ass as she cries in ecstasy, her hips grinding down on him as he shoots his cum deep within her. A small groan, bar
ely audible, passes between his lips. Melanie heard it though, and she liked it.

  After they both cum, Melanie stays on top of her husband, who continues their conversation as if nothing happened.

  "You have an interview at 6 and a concert right after that. It's a small one, only 600 people. A birthday party." After a few moments of kissing, they both stand up.

  "Shane?" Melanie asks before he walks out the door. "What dress should I wear?"

  "How about the white one." He smiles and waves before he leaves the room. Her help scuttles in, his brown hair bouncing a bit with his steps. Melanie watches him, his green eyes darting around the room looking to pick up the clothes she's thrown about.

  She holds the white dress up to see herself in it. The lace on the shoulders adds a bit of whimsical softness. The dress always reminds her of her childhood in Texas, and the dresses her mother wore to church. It was such a tragedy when her mother died in a car accident, leaving Melanie alone to care for Brianna and William herself. "I should call Brianna later and see how she and Will are doing in Spain. Could you remind me, please, Jake?"

  The boy nods before leaving the room.

  The Thief and the Princess

  Fantasy, Erotic Romance, True Love

  Cat Calloway

  With a long train swishing behind me, I hustle from table to table, trying each of the dishes before the guests arrive. Hundreds of guests, many of them eligible bachelors, are to join me for a ball – a ball where I must meet my future husband.

  “Alessandria, stop picking at the food and go wash your hands,” my mother chastises me, her green eyes flashing with anger. Mother expects perfection, and I do my best to meet her standards. It's not always possible, but I do try.

  I keep my waist thin, I train it with my corset, I cross stitch instead of playing with my brothers in the yard. It's dull, and I miss when I was younger and under the care of our gentle nanny, but those days are long gone and I am the eldest child. I must set an example… and be prepared for my father to die.

  So I must find a husband.

  It isn't awful or anything. In fact, ever since I was a child, I have dreamed of becoming a bride, and then a wife. I actually love learning how to run the castle, and having children one day will no doubt be the happiest thing to happen to me.

  After washing my hands and having a young servant girl help me straighten my corset, I check my cell phone. It's nearly six in the evening, and my guests will be arriving soon.

  “I see a carriage coming over the hill,” my father says, coming up behind me with his hand shading his eyes from the sun. One side of his mouth droops, a side effect from his last stroke. I try to ignore the depths of my sadness when I see how thin he has become, because he deserves better than that. I shouldn't be a mope in his last months.

  “Yes, I can hear the horses. Dad… Do you think I'll meet my husband tonight?”

  He looks down at me, drawing him closer to him and kissing my forehead. “You could have any man in the world, my dear. You will find your husband when the time is right. Don't rush it, and don't make the mistake of just going for the richest man, no matter what your mother says. You have no need for more money, all you need now is someone you love and who loves you.”

  “Marrying for love? That's romantic, even for you.”

  My father laughs, then coughs and presses a hand against his chest. “Yes, even for me. But, you will do what you want. I know how you are.”

  “Alessandria Didane Davydova, princess of Erilam!”

  The announcer holds my hand, helping me down the first step as I walk towards the now packed ballroom. A few cameras go off, bathing me in flashes of light. Mother not only invited royalty and socialites, but journalists and bloggers. Her greatest hope is for me to become well known around the world, so that I might put our country on the map.

  Erilam is a wealthy country, with many natural resources, but we are small. Every man goes through military service to protect us from the larger countries that salivate over our gold, oil, and fertile lands. Many women join the service, too, now that it is legal for them to do so.

  Though we're isolationist and nationalistic, we have been trying for years to join the EU and really make our mark on the world. That burden will rest on my head, and the head of my future husband.

  I take my father's arm as I descend the stairs, and let him lead me around to introduce me to people. An English prince. A German duchess. One of the Japanese emperor's sons. No, two of his sons. All very handsome, very rich, and very charming.

  A shadow slides against the farthest wall. I almost wouldn't have noticed if it hadn't darted past a window and blocked the setting sun. I look around to see who or what it might have been, but it's long gone.

  Maybe I imagined it.

  One of the Japanese men offers to dance with me, and I take his hand and follow him out onto the dance floor. We dance in time with the music, with my father and mother dancing next to us. My mother looks radiant in her golden gown. Father almost doesn't look sick.

  I notice the shadow again, but as I go to ask him about it, my partner steps on my shoe, catching me and sending me flying! I slam into my mother, who cries out but isn't hurt.

  “I'm so sorry! I'm a little clumsy, I had some wine!”

  I am angry for a moment, but then I laugh, waving my hand. “It's okay! But it looks like my shoe's heel is broken. I'll go change my shoes, and then we can have a second try at a dance.”

  I bow at the blushing, mortified man and run off with bare feet. A few of the other men watch as I go, staring at my feet.

  Up a flight of stairs and past two portraits painted of me, I reach the door to my bedroom. Before I can step inside, though, I hear… is that muttering? Is there someone in my room?

  Slowly, quietly, I twist the door knob and open my door a crack. There, in my own bedroom, standing in front of my jewels is a man clothed all in black. His hair, though, is a light blond. On his back is a black bag, which he slides off his shoulder and opens.

  Picking up the glass case that holds rubies my grandmother once wore in her tiara, he slides it gently into the bag. Next comes a pair of small diamond earrings, and a few other things. He picks and chooses his prizes ever so carefully, picking them up with deft fingers and examining them before placing them in his bag.

  I press against the door a little too hard, making it creek. The thief's head whips around, looking for the source of the sound. I scramble to pull myself back as quietly as possibly, my heart pounding.

  What am I to do? Should I call for the guards or deal with this myself? Surely that's not safe. Should I just let him take the jewels?

  The shuffling noise comes back, signaling that he's going through the drawers now, looking for anything hidden.

  I gulp, opening the door again. The thief picks up the one thing that could never be replaced: A pink diamond with a fleck of gold in the center. The symbol of my royalty, and at times the only reason my family has been able to hold power.

  I can't let him have it.

  “Hey!” I say, pushing the door open. The thief looks back at me, his green eyes wide with surprise. “Put all of that back, or I'll call the guards!”

  The man, who I realize now is very slender and tall, gently sets down my pink diamond and turns to me. “Oh, my. I never suspected I might have a chance to meet the future queen of this beautiful country.” He bows, sweeping his arm low. His accent is American, not Erilamian. The man steps closer to me.

  Stepping into my room, I shut the door behind me and cross my arms. “How did an American thief get into my castle?”

  “You mean through all the chaos? If I didn't know better, I might accuse you of purposefully making it easy for someone to sneak in. Half of your guards are outside drunk. I'm surprised there aren't more people like me here.”

  He moves closer to me still. He smells like chocolate and cinnamon. His hand reaches out, fingers sliding against my chin to my neck. I stand perfectly still, never having be
en touched like this.

  As his other hand clasps around my neck, he chokes me lightly. A strange thrill comes over me, causing me to close my eyes. My mouth parts. I become to very, very warm.

  “Ah, but a princess is still a woman, is she not? Would you like to become a woman before you're married?”

  I say nothing. I feel trapped and wholly seduced by this man's touch, his sweet scent. He pulls me in close to his body and his long hair slides like a whisper across my face. When his mouth touches my neck for a kiss, I merely let it loll to the side. Easier access for more caresses.

  “What's your name?” I pant, my hands grabbing the man's black shirt.

  “Timo,” he says.

  “Is...” he bites my neck, which brings me so much pleasure that I must pause, draw him closer, truly enjoy it. “Is that your real name?”

  “Perhaps,” he whispers into my ear. His breath is hot, and I want to feel it all over. Mostly lower. Please move lower.

  Deft fingers undo my corset. It falls to the ground, and my breasts spill out of my now loose blouse. I bite my lip as he hikes up my dress, pounds of fabric spilling around his arms, just so that he can press against my warm slit.

  “Ah, a sweet princess can get wet! I guess every woman really is a whore. Are you a whore, Princess Alessandria?”

  Blushing, I look down but smile through the embarrassment. No man with good breeding would dare to speak to me like that, and maybe that's exactly why I like it! Something about being called a whore, being treated like one, feels really nice.

  I reach down between us, though the folds of my dress make it nearly impossible to do so, and stroke his big cock through his pants. I realize I have no clue what I'm doing, so I just wing it. “Oh, yes, Timo. I think I am a whore, and a whore knows what a whore wants.” I bat my eyelashes, trying to look seductive. If I fail, Timo doesn't let on. His smile turns a little darker, a little more mature.

  “Well, then, I think I would like to know the Whore Princess better. Take off your dress and blouse, whore, and show me your body.”