Splintered Mirror

by Morgan Hawke

  He obligingly rocked his hips in reply, his cock sliding up and down against that tiny point. At the same time, his hand opened to cup my breast and squeezed.

  The sensation was almost electric in intensity. Carnal urgency coiled deliciously in my belly. I lifted one knee to angle my hips better, and rocked against him, deliberately seeking more.

  Grinding up against me, he pulled back, breaking the kiss with a wicked smile. “I knew you couldn’t resist me.” Before I could even think of a reply, he released my wrists and reached down with both hands, cupped my ass and lifted me just enough to raise my breasts from under the water.

  Off balance, I grabbed for his broad, wet shoulders.

  He ducked his head to capture my nipple with his lips and sucked, hard. Then he continued, rubbing and grinding his cock up against my most intimate flesh.

  A pulsing wave of carnal delight exploded in my belly, forcing loud choking gasps from my throat. I shuddered and arched under the onslaught, writhing to prolong the glorious sensations. The last vestiges of pleasure passed, and I was left decidedly limp and panting.

  Alberic stared at me, his brows up, then chuckled. “That was quick.”

  Still trembling with minor aftershocks, I looked away, my face hot. Nothing I’d ever done in the depths of the night, hidden under the covers of my small bed had ever felt that intense, that overwhelming, or that addictive. My body was already hungry for more.

  And he hadn’t even fucked me.

  I was so doomed.

  ~ Six ~

  Alberic set me back down, caught my wrists and tugged them from his shoulders. His voice whispered against my ear. “My turn.”

  I blinked at him, rather stupidly, I’ll admit. “Huh?”

  Staring straight into my eyes, he smiled and shoved both my hands under the water. “You got yours. Now, I want mine.” His thumbs pried my hands open, only to close both of them around something long, round, and firm, yet silky smooth and hot.

  He did not just...? I stared at him in utter disbelief. Unfortunately, my disbelief was short-lived. Though I couldn’t see below the steaming water’s surface, there was no mistaking what I held in my hands. I unconsciously tightened my fingers.

  Alberic’s green gaze hooded and a sigh passed his lips. “Oh yes...” He set one hand on my shoulder, the other firmly trapping my fingers around him, and licked his lips. “Just like that.”

  I tried to swallow the lump in my throat. I wanted to let go, I needed to let go, but my fingers apparently had a mind of their own, because they wouldn’t let go. I wasn’t a complete stranger to his...lower anatomy. I bathed and dressed my prince almost daily, but I’d never actually held it before.

  He leaned into me and his hips tilted back, drawing his length through my fingers under the water until the edge of the hood caught against my curled fingers. Then the cap of his cock was in my palm. He pumped forward, sliding into my grip until the short, curling hairs at his root pressed against the edge of my hand. A groan rolled from his throat. He pulled back, and pressed forward a little quicker, and harder, his breath expelling in a huff. “Nice... Very nice.” His fingers tightened on my shoulder, and he began thrusting into my hands in earnest. The subtle scent of masculine musk, of arousal, drifted from his skin. His jaw tightened and his brows drew together. His muscles tensed and flexed in stark relief. It almost looked as though he was in pain.

  It was frightening, and fascinating.

  Alberic leaned in and covered my mouth with his. His tongue delved in to sweep along mine. His chest pressed against my breasts, forcing me back against the wall of the tub. Up against my belly, his fingers tightened around mine and he started drawing my hand along his length, back and forth in swift strokes.

  My thoughts scattered and my fingers tightened, unable to think beyond the hungry kiss devouring my mouth, the needy groans in my ears, and the hot, hard, slippery length sliding along my fingers between us.

  Alberic abruptly pulled his mouth from mine and pressed hard up against me. He stiffened, his muscles going taut. His lips parted on small, choking gasps. His cock pulsed in my hand, and something hot spurted against my belly, only to fade in the water. He sighed and went limp against me.

  I blinked, not quite sure what to make of what had just happened. I should have been disgusted, or at least annoyed, but oddly, all I felt was a spark of feminine pride. My prince had found me exciting enough that he’d actually climaxed in my hand—my hand.

  Would being his bed-warmer be such a bad thing?

  I slapped the thought down with all the force I could muster. Being his bed-warmer would be a very bad thing, especially once he’d found his princess and married her. Wives were notoriously nasty toward mistresses, and princesses married to heirs of kingdoms were particularly so. Being the prince’s bed-warmer would mean a death sentence if...no, when she found out.

  That didn’t stop the cravings already coiling within me. Crap...

  The thought crossed my mind that the prince might find a princess that didn’t want sex...? I eyed my gloriously handsome prince. Nope, not in a million years. Anyone that saw him would most definitely want to sleep with him. Repeatedly.

  I was so very doomed.

  Loud banging came from the bath house door.

  I stiffened in shock.

  Alberic turned toward the door, scowling. “Damned nosy innkeeper...”

  From the other side of the bathhouse door a syrupy feminine voice called out, “Prince Alberic, are you still in there?” A high-pitched giggle followed. “Shall I wash your back for you?”

  Alberic cringed against me. “Shit.”

  I frowned. I knew that voice. “Gabriella...?” The busty redhead was a minor sorceress, and one of the prince’s most reliable informants. However, her most notable characteristic, beyond her immense bust-line and taste for sexual deviancy, was her obsession for the prince, an obsession that involved outright stalking. Any time we left the castle environs for whatever reason, sooner or later, she’d show up.

  The door handle rattled. “Let me in, my sweet prince!”

  Alberic turned toward the door with a scowl. “I’m busy!”

  A smile crept onto my face. Normally Gabriella was something of an annoyance, as she spent every waking moment sidling up to my prince, begging to be his full-time mistress instead of just his part-time spy. On top of that, her magic didn’t always work quite the way she intended. However, at that moment, I could have kissed her. With Gabriella hanging around, Alberic would have far fewer chances of cornering me, because he’d be too busy avoiding her.

  “We’ll be out in a minute!” I twisted free of Alberic’s hands and lunged for the ladder.

  Alberic grabbed for me. “Julian!”

  “Oh, is that you, Julian?”

  I dodged my prince’s hands and climbed out of the tub with all the speed I could muster, spilling water all over the raised wooden floor. “Yeah, it’s me!” I grabbed for my towel. “We’ll meet you in the taproom, Gabriella. Okay?”

  “Okay, Julian! See you there!”

  Alberic climbed out of the tub after me and whispered fiercely. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m getting dressed.” I tossed my prince’s monogrammed towel at him. “And so should you.”

  Alberic caught the towel. His eyes narrowed, and his lip curled into a scowl. “Julian, I wasn’t done...”

  I wiped down and smiled sweetly at my prince. “Your hands are starting to prune. Are you sure you want to stay in the bath?”

  Alberic’s eyes widened and he looked at his hands. “Crap.” He started scrubbing the water from his skin with his towel.

  I turned away from him to hide my smile and started dressing. One thing I could always count on was my prince’s vanity. He hated to look anything less than perfect.

  In a matter of minutes, I had my breasts wrapped in their customary cotton strips to keep them unobtrusive, and my shirt tucked into my breeches. I looped my neck-cloth around my collar, tied it into
a loose bow, then dragged on my knee-length waistcoat. I started buttoning and turned to see how my prince was doing.

  Alberic sat on the wooden bench by the tub with one knee crossed over the other, his elbow propped on his knee and his chin resting on his upraised fist. He had his ruffled shirt tucked into his black leather breeches, but hadn’t bother to tie his neck cloth or his neck laces. The ruffles on his shirt framed his smooth, muscular chest in a far too fascinating fashion. He frowned. “So that’s how you hid your breasts.”

  I scowled at him and stomped into my riding boots. “It’s not like I had an option.”

  Alberic stood up, and his lips twisted upward in a breathtakingly cruel smile. “Of course not. You are, after all, my little secret.”

  Every hair on my body stood at attention. Even worse, something deep in my belly quivered, and dampness slid from my core. I turned and bolted for the door.

  Behind me, Alberic chuckled. “Are you running away?”

  My fingers scrabbled with the lock. Yes, I was running away, and I didn’t give a damn how much of a coward that made me. I got the lock unfastened, threw open the door, and tore down the gravel path as though pursued by the hounds of hell.

  Alberic’s laughter followed me all the way to the inn’s back door.

  I slammed the door closed behind me and strode up the narrow hallway and into the main taproom on shaky legs. I was determined to go straight to my tiny room under the attic eaves and lock the door behind me.

  Halfway to the stairs on the far side of the taproom, my upper arm was grabbed with bruising force. I slipped a knife into my hand and turned.

  A half-plastered Gabriella grinned slyly with plump, bright scarlet lips. She wore a black satin gown that was corseted within an inch of her life. Her breasts spilled almost completely out of the low, ruffled neckline. The busty, blue-eyed sorceress tossed her blood-red curls and pressed her exceedingly full bosom against my arm. The multiple ruffled crinolines under the skirt that barely came to her knees were so stiff that they forced her to lean almost halfway over just to reach me. “Julian, where’s his tall, blond, and vicious highness?” The half-empty tankard in her other hand tipped toward me dangerously.

  While surreptitiously sliding the knife back into its sheath, I used the index finger of my other hand to tip the tankard more towards her. “He’ll be in any moment now.” I took a quick look over my shoulder at the hallway I’d just left.

  Lamplight glinted on long gold hair falling over broad shoulders, and my tall, handsome and frowning prince sauntered into the taproom.

  I blinked. His hair was perfectly dry, where my black mane was still dripping. I rolled my eyes. The man definitely had a witch or two among his antecedents.

  “There you are!” Gabriella shoved me away from her hard enough to very nearly throw me to the floor. She threw out her arms, tossing her tankard across the room in the process. “I’ve missed you, darling. Did you miss me?”

  Alberic rolled his eyes and set his hands on his hips. “I keep trying to, but you never let me.”

  I ducked my head and headed for the stairs.

  Alberic’s voice lashed out. “Julian!”

  I froze in my tracks, then turned slowly to face him.

  Alberic smiled, his eyes narrowed to green slits. “Fetch me a bottle of wine.” He sauntered into one of the private rooms, Gabriella cooing at his heels.

  I sighed in defeat, and turned back toward the bar.

  The next hour was spent in a small wood-walled room standing by a battered table keeping my seated prince’s wineglass full while trying to eat a bowl of stew I’d managed to grab.

  Gabriella pouted while straddling a chair at his side. “So you’re finally getting married?”

  Alberic spat a mouthful of wine and scowled at the sorceress. “What makes you think that?”

  Gabriella snorted. “Oh, come on! Like what goes on in the throne room can be hidden from me?” She shrugged. “I just didn’t hear where you were going to get married.”

  I yanked the bar towel off my arm and wiped at the wine my prince had spat all over the table. “We’re going to the kingdom of Swanstone in Lyoness.”

  “Oh!” Gabriella clapped her hands to her cheeks rather dramatically. “You’re going to the unicorn hunt?”

  Alberic frowned at Gabriella. “You know about that?”

  Gabriella stepped away from the table, threw out her arms, and twirled. “Everybody knows about the unicorn hunt!” She set her elbow on the table and smiled at Alberic. “The Princess Rosette has been refusing suitors since she came of marriageable age because of her twin sister, the Princess Blanchette.”

  “Oh?” Alberic tilted his head in a bored manner, but his gaze slid to Gabriella.

  Gabriella nodded. “It seems that Princess Rosette refused to be parted from her sister. However...!” She set one finger beside her nose. “The king declared that if Rosette didn’t choose a suitor by her eighteenth birthday, he would marry off Blanchette to the first man that offered.” She grinned. “So, Rosette declared that she would marry the first man to bring her a unicorn.” She leaned closer to the prince. “Rumor has it, that the lucky man who brings in this unicorn will not only get half the kingdom, but two princesses for the price of one! Snow White and Rose Red, isn’t it cute?”

  Alberic leaned back in his chair, his lips curling into a sour smile. “This Snow White, she doesn’t have black hair, does she?”

  I winced. The prince’s original fiancé, the one that had tried to poison him with an apple, had also been known as Snow White. She’d had hair like night, lips as red as blood, and skin as white as snow, but a heart as cold as ice.

  Gabriella shook her head, sending her blood red curls bouncing. “Blanchette is said to be a willowy platinum blonde, and Rosette a buxom and full-bodied redhead.”

  Alberic blinked. “Well now, that is interesting.”

  Gabriella grinned. “Pity you’ll miss it!”

  I stiffened in shock. “What...?”

  Gabriella plopped down on the bench and grinned at me. “Lyoness is on the other side of the northern ocean. Princess Rosette’s birthday is in two weeks. Even the fastest ship leaving today will never make it to Lyoness in time for the hunt.”

  Alberic’s eyes narrowed and his lips curled into a smile that practically dripped with malicious intent. “Two weeks is plenty of time.”

  I cringed. Oh gods, he was up to something.

  The sorceress leaned back, setting her elbows up on the table. “You could just marry me.” She fluffed her blood-red curls.

  Alberic snorted and rose from his chair. “You’re not a princess.”

  Gabriella set her hands on her ample hips and stuck out her bottom lip. “So?”

  Alberic strode for the door, waving his hand negligently. “The king wants a pedigreed princess for a daughter-in-law.” He turned to me. “Julian, I’m going to bed. Make sure to wake me at noon.”

  I nodded. “Good night, my prince.”

  Alberic strode out.

  Gabriella chased after him. “If not your wife, then how about making me your mistress?”

  I rolled my eyes. Did she have to ask that every time she saw him?

  “I have too many already.”

  I sighed. That was true enough.

  Gabriella’s voice carried very clearly from the tap room. “Then how about your love slave?”

  “Have one of those too.”

  I didn’t quite flinch.

  With a sinking heart, I gathered the three empty wine bottles, my stew bowl, and Gabriella’s tankard to deliver them to the innkeeper. My feet dragged up the stairs to my attic room. How the hell was I supposed to get my prince to Swanstone and married off in time to save my virginity? It was seriously beginning to look hopeless for me.

  Gabriella knelt in the hallway before Alberic’s door in a black lace peignoir that didn’t leave anything to the imagination at all. She was fiddling with the lock.

  Ignoring the lock-picks i
n her hands, I nodded at her. “Good night, Gabriella.”

  She jerked both hands behind her and smiled. “Good night, Julian!”

  I passed her by, biting back a smile. Gabriella would be a more than adequate distraction for my perverted prince. I unlocked and opened the door to my attic room, anticipating an undisturbed night’s sleep.

  Long fingers burrowed into the back of my collar, jerking me to a choking halt. Behind me, the door slammed shut and I was slammed back into the wall. A tall, heavy weight pressed bodily against me, knocking the air from my lungs.

  I gasped for breath, more than a bit stunned and partially blinded by both the dark and my assailant’s long hair. Even so, I managed to pull a knife from my shoulder harness.

  A soft masculine voice whispered against my ear. “Julian...”

  I knew that voice. Hell, I knew the scent of the soap perfuming my assailant’s hair. I stiffened, even more alarmed than I was before. “Prince...?”

  Alberic leaned back so that I could see his face. “Pack everything. We leave for Swanstone within the hour.”

  I blinked. “What about your belongings?”

  He turned to the side, revealing that he was dressed in his long black leather traveling coat, and his valises were already packed and piled on my bed.

  I slumped against the wall. “Oh.” So much for an undisturbed night’s sleep. I lifted my brow at my prince. “Gabriella is camped in the hallway. How do you plan to get past her?”

  Alberic smiled, and it wasn’t pretty. “We won’t need to. We’re leaving from the roof.”

  My jaw slackened. “The roof?”

  ~ Seven ~

  My golden-haired prince strode for the attic room’s only window and threw open the shutters. He leaned out, reached up then stepped up onto the windowsill and climbed upward, disappearing from my view.

  Terrified that my prince was about to fall to his death, I chased after him. “Prince, what are you doing? We are on the third floor!”