The Princess of the Wild

by Lorelei Orion

  In the theater, where there was a raunchy show playing—and there was no need to hear the dialog—one woman caught his attention. She was pretty and fresh, and he had never seen her face before. She had shoulder-length, flaming red hair and soft blue eyes. He made his way to her, putting on his charms.

  “Hello, there,” he greeted above the din. “What’s your name?”

  “Lisa!” she shouted, in his ear.

  “Enough talk,” he quipped. “Let’s go ...”

  He grasped her slender hand and pulled her on behind him, leading her to his room. When there, behind the closed door, he nudged her down on his bed and straddled her. He slipped her out of her frilly black dress, revealing her shapely curves. He could do this ...

  He didn’t really want to kiss her, so he settled on her breasts, instead. He tasted of their firmness, their sweetness, and was relieved when his desire stirred. She panted beneath him, eager for him, and he glided his hand down to her waiting womanhood. He caressed her, gently, and he closed his eyes, waiting to hear those contented moans.

  With a start, he realized that he was pretending that she was Skye. This girl had a strange presence—she was not his Skye.

  His desire simply fell, confirming his very worst fear.

  “Dammit—no!” he cried hoarsely. “No!”

  The girl was bewildered. He hurried off her.

  “Sorry,” he uttered. “I’ve got to get out of here ...”

  Nicholas moved from the room into the chaos beyond. He needed a moment of quietude, to escape the din, and headed for the sanctity of the beach. The beach, however, was no better, for his guests were noisily overtaking the serenity of nature. He moved down the ivory stretch of sand, ignoring the voices calling out his title, until he was finally alone.

  He paused to take in the sunset, the red and gold hues splashing upon the darkened sea. The waves sprayed and flickered, bringing a mist into his eyes. Skye used to walk here with him, with her long red-gold hair flowing and her violet-blue eyes warm. They had made love on this sand, the sky stormy, the rain pouring ...

  He had an aching within his breast, one he had never known before.

  How could she do this to him? She should know his soul.

  He knew sorrow—and then he knew anger. He wasn’t about to let a single woman control his emotions!

  With purpose, he moved back to the house, to join in on the festivities.

  He paused on the terrace, determined to put on his party face. With the falling of night, the ambiance was taking on a different tone. His guests were pairing off—in twos, or threes, or fives—eager to explore the sexuality of their bodies with one another. In the foyer, there were three women to one man, all naked and writhing and uncaring that he stood there. There was another foursome on the far lounges. He knew a wave of disgust—did he really enjoy this?

  He stepped passed all of the gratification to get another cocktail. He sipped it and glanced around at the lewdness, wondering what he was to do now. He thought of the excitement that he'd had here, when it was but Skye and him. He moved for her room ...

  When he opened her door, he had an instant ire with what he saw. Three women were there, playing with her wardrobe that he had bought for her. They were making a mockery of her apparel, theirs being gaudy and scant, and they laughed in their jesting, one trying on her flouncy golden hat.

  “Hey!” he warned, grabbing the brunette’s arm. “Get out of those!”

  “Sure!”

  The girl obeyed, wriggling out of the dress, baring her buxomly form for his taking.

  In his exasperation and his frustration, he stormed from the room. He would find Akins, and talk to him ...

  He waded through all the madness, the orgies that were everywhere around him. One male voice called out above the others.

  “Hey, Prince! Come and join us!”

  Nicholas quickly held up his hands in his decline. He would try anything once, but he didn’t need to try that to know that he wouldn’t like it. He finally found Akins in the fourteenth bedroom, but he was occupied, too.

  The Arab was in bed with two naked women who were working his tall and wiry frame.

  “Akins ...?” he uttered.

  “I’m kind of busy right now, Nicholas,” he said meaningfully.

  Nicholas nodded and shut the door.

  He moved to the foyer and stood there, stunned. Had he actually before seen the depravity that went on on his estate? Had he truly been involved in all of this? This wasn’t a place for free hearts to roam—it was a cage of iniquity, an abomination to the soul—

  In a sudden flare of rage, he flung the glass from his hand, sending it flying and breaking against the far wall.

  He hurried down the steps to his auto. They could burn the place down, for all he cared!

  He set the vehicle in motion, heading for the peace and wisdom, the comfort of his home.

  ***

  Skye woke from her nightmare in a panic, feeling a hand touching her cheek. She was surrounded by demons and they were about to use her for their play. She cried out and shot upward, and was caught within a familiar embrace. The shadows of the darkness were deep within the room, lit only by the faint moonlight that streamed through the high windows. She breathed in relief when she realized that the one holding her was Nicholas.

  “Shush,” he soothed, smoothing her hair and rocking her gently until her reality returned.

  She stiffened, realizing that it truly was Nicholas who was naked in her bed!

  He tried to kiss her, but she turned her face away.

  “No, Skye—don’t fight me,” he urged hoarsely. “I’ve got to have you.”

  Skye was powerless as he drew her into a brutal kiss, releasing his emotion for her—his anger, his fears, and his care ... She tasted the liquor on his tongue and recoiled from the bitter essence, but she knew the heat of his passion and was weakened, succumbing to him ...

  She fell back down on the bed and he slanted above her, his strong arms cradling her head, his powerful thighs against hers. Her tongue rode his with equal ardor, her will becoming lost in his domination, his commanding presence. She knew that she was being his fool again but she couldn’t care, her body aching for the mastery of his touch. She was complete when he was with her, her soul alight and her spirit free ...

  He drew away and groaned, resting his brow at her nape. She was lightheaded in the devastation of her resolve, accepting that she would again be his.

  He let out a low growl and he kissed her again, drawing her back into his fire. He glided his hand across the lace of her pink satin nightgown, across the swell of her breasts. She knew the slight trembling of his hand while he explored the straining peaks beneath the lace, as if they were fragile artwork that he must carefully treasure. His hand slid down her trim waist, over the curve of her hip, down her thigh. He was testing her, like he was looking for an answer to a mystery that only she could solve.

  His firm lips left hers and his adventurous tongue moved to her ear, down to her nape, to her waiting breast. With one hand he grasped the hem of her nightgown, and she aided him while he drew the satin up her, until he lifted it over her arms and tossed it aside. In a surge of emotion, he gathered her to him, his arms folding across her back, needing the feel of her bare breasts against his. He nudged her back to see her beauty, her soft curves glowing in the faint light of the moon. He slanted above her and kissed her again ...

  Skye’s languor deepened with his every ravenous kiss. His tongue would ravish her, and draw away, and he would take his lips away, staying near hers, and he would come at her again, sending her into another bout of maddening pleasure. It was as if he had found an acceptance of his needs, and he could freely give to her his inner self ...

  She was breathless when his lips moved down to her breast, taking in a hard and waiting peak, bringing a soft gasp from her from the intensity. He nodded slightly, as if to himself, and continued to stimulate her, moving leisurely from one peak to the other, br
inging out of her her sweet, uncontrollable sighs. She tangled her hands in his silken hair, knowing that she would be a fool not to allow this, to deny herself her desire. She felt the press of his desire at her thigh, and wasn’t sure how long she could endure, before she would sincerely plead.

  He wanted to keep her in this swelter, making her ache for him, owning her sexuality. He wanted to have her vulnerable beneath him, loving his power. His gentle fingertips and hot tongue grazed the swollen tips of her breasts, bringing them up to their fullest measure. A soft plea did escape her, but he mercilessly wanted another, to which he received one, but he wanted yet another ...

  In a burst of frustration, Skye slid her hands down to grasp him at his hips. His breath caught sharply but then he complied. He thrust himself within her, and they both were caught off guard at the fierce contact, and were swept off into the stormy and heightening waves ... She clung to his broad back and she cried out huskily when her ecstasy came—

  “Nicholas!”

  He was sent out of his control, his response violent in the tempest ...

  It took him a long while before he could catch his breath, and before he did, he took her in his arms, his hand placing her head on his breast. He smoothed her hair and he smoothed his own with his other hand, pushing his damp blond locks off his brow.

  “My God,” he uttered hoarsely. “Skye ...”

  She heard the quickness of his heart slowly becoming an even, steady beat. The sound soothed her, as did his arms that surrounded her. He was her lover again ... but her euphoria fell—he was every woman’s lover.

  Her reality came back to her in waves, making her remember the identity of who held her and what he had done. Her anger soon overtook her. She stiffened in his arms and halfheartedly tried to rise.

  He sighed, but he would not let her go.

  “Skye,” he said, matter-of-factly. “You don’t have to leave. I’ll give you your space when you want it—no strings. Just don’t deny me this.”

  She stiffened even more against him. “Don’t deny you? What woman could deny the prince?”

  He was quiet a moment before he said, “I haven’t been with another—I haven’t given myself to another since I’ve been with you.”

  She was incredulous. “You have women falling at your feet everywhere. Do you really expect me to believe you?”

  He let out a harsh, wry laugh. “Trust me.”

  Skye knew that she couldn’t trust him, after all of his lies.

  When he spoke, his voice had a very bitter tone. “Oh, that’s right. I’m so horrible and you just can’t do that.”

  After a moment, he quietly said, “Think about it, Skye.”

  He released her and she moved away from him. He rose from the bed, struggling into his clothes that he had discarded on the floor. He moved for the door, his boots in hand. He was a tall silhouette, but she sensed that the longing for her was there on his face.

  “Sweet dreams,” he whispered. “Until later.”

  He disappeared beyond the door, leaving her alone with her many confusing thoughts.

  Chapter 15

  Queen’s Palace was a wondrous place, filled with warmth, sunlight and splendor. Skye discovered this when she ventured bravely out of her suite, the morning after Nicholas had come to her bed. He was away for the day, seeing to his duties. She had happened to see him on the viewer in her drawing room while she restlessly caught up with Adriel’s news. He was at a groundbreaking in Tanzania, dedicating a new science museum for success, in the name of the Crown. He was surrounded by his excited and adoring female fans, them held back from him by his guards and portable, protective gates.

  He was the dashing and noble Prince Nicholas who she had seen on a viewer before, his smile and humor bright, his magnetism capturing every female heart. He flirted with them, with his blue-green eyes and sweet words, naming them the most beautiful of women he had ever seen. She saw through his flatteries but they didn’t, screaming and swooning, eating up his words like a pack of hungry hounds. She knew an unpleasant emotion and she deciphered it, and concluded that it was jealousy. She didn’t much care for the feeling ...

  The female reporter who interviewed him could hardly contain her enthusiasm from being in his presence. “We have heard rumors that you are number one in your class in the FAS Academy,” she said excitedly. “You did a maneuver that surpassed all of the other cadets by destroying a target that was considered to be indestructible. Is it true? How did you do it?”

  Nicholas smiled and nodded. “Yes, it’s true—heard about the academy’s decision a few days ago. It seems that they liked the originality of my idea, that no target is indestructible. I simply dropped my shields so I could get at the robotics at a high rate of speed, destroying it before it could detect my whereabouts.”

  The reporter was impressed. “But, isn’t dropping your shields dangerous? Couldn’t you have been killed?”

  Nicholas nodded. “I guess, but life itself is fraught with danger, isn’t it? I believe that if you have a worthy goal, you should stop at nothing to reach it. Goals are there for the taking, for—”

  Skye flicked the viewer off, having the satisfaction of muting him in mid-sentence. She had the distinct suspicion that he considered her to be his next target ...

  But, at least he was gone for the day, and it would be fairly safe for her to venture out.

  Skye strolled slowly down the long majestic halls, awed by the towering archways, the black marble floors—the sheer number of the ornate doors. Never in her life would she have dreamt that she would be here, in this most supreme dwelling on the planet. It was a huge estate, being seven stories tall and having over six hundred rooms, and employing over three hundred people, seeming like a small city yet somehow having a homey feel. Nicholas had been born into all of this luxury and wealth, while her riches had been the stars in the sky above. They had been raised in the opposite ends of the spectrum—which could be wherein all of their contradictions lie. He had known many walls and she had known few. Too many walls made her nervous ... but these confines weren’t so terrible ...

  As she roamed, she came upon the Hanging Gardens, one of many rooms providing the serenity of nature. The trickling waterfalls and verdant foliage made her feel right at home. She wandered there a while, reminiscing about last night ... her wondrous reunion with Nicholas, the sweet memory that wouldn’t leave her mind. She wanted to hate him still, but she had been gifted—and cursed—with an abundance of the insight of understanding.

  Nicholas had needed to wear a disguise while he went off on his sordid bouts or he would cause his family shame. He was, after all, the Prince Royal of Adriel, and all eyes were always upon him. It would be a tremendous amount of pressure, a weight he had known all of his life. But why he had felt the need to visit brothels—since he could have most any woman he wanted—she really didn’t know.

  And, why was he interested in her? Was it simply the satisfaction he found with her in bed? Truly, she wanted it to be more than that, but she didn’t dare to hope. He was, after all, a rogue at heart. She really couldn’t trust him.

  But, what would she have done if he had told her the truth that day, when he had shed his disguise? Would she have died from her shock, or would she have accepted it? She had known from the start—in the far recesses of her mind—that he was the prince, but her rationality wouldn’t allow her to see it. What she hadn’t known then, but she knew now, was that he was testing her, searching to see who she really was. Even when she had convinced him that she was a woman digging for gold, he saw through her desperate ploy, knowing her. He knew that she wouldn’t want him for his title and wealth, a threat he must have feared about often with women.

  He was, in all truth, a caring and sensitive man. He hid all that behind his quick wit and carefree manner. This side of him really was bright—a joy to know. He really was, quite honestly, exceptional.

  But he had a dark side, and he was a rogue.

  Skye left the gard
ens in an even more troubled mood than when she had entered them. She couldn’t take a breath without thinking about him, and she didn’t much like that he had overtaken her spirit, and was on his way to steal her soul ...

  “Well, hello, there!” a masculine voice said from behind her.

  Skye whirled. The Prince Royal Royce stood before her, his handsome visage beaming at her.

  “You must be Skye,” he said warmly, taking her hand into his. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  Skye remembered her common duty and swept down into a curtsy. “Your Royal Highness,” she greeted.

  “Please,” he said while she straightened. “Call me ‘Royce’. There’s no need for formalities here. I’m like my brother—don’t need all that pomp and fanfare.”

  Skye grew nervous, finding herself caught in yet another imposing royal presence. Prince Royce was blond and tall, his features similar to his brother’s, although his eyes were more the hue of green. Those eyes had a regal air and mischievous glow, and she knew instantly that he considered her to be fair game ...

  She knew about Prince Royce from the transmissions, that he was a year older than her, and that he was a charmer given to flattery. Like his older brother, the women swooned wherever he appeared. Although he lived under the shadow of his dynamic brother, he was a star in his own right. His shoulder-length blond hair was tied back in a queue, accenting his majestic cheekbones, and he wore a classy dark-blue ensemble, looking as though he was out to meet someone for a rendezvous. It would be absurd to think that his someone was she ... but still—with the way he was looking at her—she had the feeling that this meeting was not by accident.

  He still wouldn’t release her hand and she gave to him the slightest resistance, gracefully urging him, and he complied, releasing her.