Rose was amused by the sight of him, atop her, but she feigned worry. “What have you done to my dress? You careless, careless subject.”
James frowned remorsefully. “Have I offended you my queen? How ever might I make it up to you?” His fingers lightly danced over her breasts, and she could feel her nipples hardening beneath his delectable touch.
She wanted to play along with his game, but his roving hands made it hard for her to concentrate. She’d never been a queen, and never really treated like a princess. Not the haughty ones she’d read about in storybooks. “Well,” she breathed out, as he managed to delicately pull apart the entire dress so that each unbuttoned half lay beside her. “I don’t think you have offended me. I realize you’re simply overzealous in your devotion to your queen.”
He was leaning over her kissing her tummy, when he lifted his head slightly. “Devotion,” he whispered, his warm breath tantalizing her midsection, “is exactly right. I am devoted to bringing you pleasure. Do excuse my overzealousness. I live to follow your commands.”
“You’re overdressed,” Rose said, as she looked at him.
“Then I shall bare myself for you,” he said, and with a flourish, he removed his shirt, and then his knickers, revealing the gloriousness of his naked shape. His muscles rippled in the summer light, and every piece of him was taut and ready. Rose’s mouth watered as she inhaled his scent.
He slid his hand in between her legs and urged them apart, lowering his face close to her womanhood. She tipped her head forward slightly, curios. Then, she felt his warmth breath on her hairy opening, and she gasped. She closed her eyes, as she felt his tongue slide along her insides. She clenched with the pleasure of his wet, sloppy touch cradling her insides. His hands clenched her butt, pulling him to her as he stroked her insides. A breathy moan escaped her lips as her hips rocked to enjoy him better. Waves of pure pleasure roared through her body as he found new ways to make her squirm.
She panted and wiggled as he held her closer and elicited the sweet ache from her. She heard a strangled cry of passion, only to realize it was her. She’d begun to cry out with the joy of his unending touch.
He pulled his head from between her thighs and looked up at her, a wet smile on his lips. “You are the sweetest thing I ever tasted,” he said, as he moved forward, straddling her.
She kissed him, tasting, him and her, mingled, and then she felt him slide into her wetness, thick and firm. He let out a low grunt as she took him in, his hardness filling her completely. She arched her back and felt the extent of his masculinity as it titillated her insides.
He got into a steady motion, rocking back and forth with her. As he went deep inside her with bold thrusts, he buried his head in her neck, his tongue glazing it. Her whole body shivered and undulated, the pleasure rippling through her entire body. She clenched around him, her hips moving with his.
Hands caressed the top of her hair and his scent seemed to hang in the air, so strong, musky and enticing that she wanted him deeper. She arched her back and tipped her hips into him, feeling the delicious motion he knew how to inflict upon her.
Her breath was heavy and she screamed out, her lips unable to contain the carnal joy that he doled out. Her cup runneth over, her juices flowing heavy and loose as he slammed into her, deeper and deeper. So deep they were connected for eternity.
Her hands slid up his back to his shoulders, tiptoeing over his neck and into his hairline, damp with sweat. He pumped deep inside her, his rhythm quickening.
Her fingertips found his back, pressing deeply, gripping as she braced against his pounding. A low moan passed his lips, and he whispered, “You feel so good, Rose.”
He felt better.
Her body seized beneath him, and the forceful waves of pleasure kept coming, washing over her. She panted, her breath coming too quickly. She couldn’t take much more of his love pummeling. Another faint cry escaped her, and she closed her eyes to focus on the sensation, feeling her back grind into the soft blanket beneath her.
He gripped her backside, holding her cheeks tight as he pushed more fervently, his breath quickened, and his piercing thrusts intensified. Her entire body was electrified and she came beneath him, her body awash in the glow of sex. His thrusts continued to tease her, and then finally his rigid cock pulsed inside her, a thrust of cum, and he breathed out as he finished.
Looking down at her, he smiled, and kissed her on the lips. “I love you, Briar Rose,” he said as he removed himself from her, then wrapped her in his arms.
“I love you, James,” she replied, and she closed her eyes, wanting nothing more than to lie here in his arms forever.
* * *
Blissa stood over Rose and watched as the little satchel blew around the room. The servant girl had fled immediately when the empty bag rose into the sudden wind that circled the room. The servant had cried the wind was part of the evil sorceress’s curse, and Blissa wouldn’t dare disabuse her of the notion. She didn’t want the servants to be scared of Rose. To think that there was something wrong with her. Dwennon and Hilly were right. If Rose could do this in her sleep, she was indeed a powerful fairy. She needed help, though. If things got out of hand, Rose could cause injury, especially since she didn’t realize she possessed this ability.
She hated Maurelle. For years, she’d been somewhat angry, but she hadn’t veered into hatred because she thought Maurelle would soften. She thought, somehow, Maurelle would change her mind. That her cousin wouldn’t do this to her daughter. She thought that their years of friendship would count for more than one man. One man who was dead. She’d not blamed Edmund for his father’s mistakes, and it never occurred to her when she met him that Maurelle would hold it against him with such unwavering fortitude. Of course, she knew Maurelle wouldn’t be pleased when she explained who Edmund’s father was, but she had never expected the hatred Maurelle leveled at her because of her choice. And somehow she’d thought that after seventeen years, Maurelle would find happiness, become less angry and remove her curse.
To know that she hadn’t, to know that she had done this to her daughter, filled her with fury, with anger, with a lust for something she’d only ever heard of, but never actually felt: revenge. She didn’t like this new feeling, but she couldn’t get rid of it either. She took a deep breath and realized she had to act.
Blissa returned to the throne room and told Hilly and Dwennon to go back to the cottage, to go to Rose’s room and see if they could find any hints of James. Then she told Edmund she was going to sleep. If she could just contact Rose in her sleep, then she could learn more about James and perhaps get her daughter home, despite what Maurelle had done.
Chapter 15
Rose was lying in James’ arms, their bare bodies pressed against each other. “I’m so glad you’re here with me,” Rose said, then sat up to look at him
His eyes were glazed and his body seemed unusually relaxed. He looked exhausted. “Are you alright, James?”
He smiled. “I don’t think so,” he said happily, his voice whimsical, his eyes unfocused. “This woman is keeping me as her sex slave, and I might just be completely depleted.”
She frowned, then teasingly tapped his chest. “I’m serious.”
“I’m not,” he said, then sat up with her, leaning in and pressing his lips to hers for a soft, lingering kiss that made her forget her thoughts momentarily. “See, I’m fine.”
She looked at him and nodded, but there was something a bit off about him. She looked over at the sun. It was still morning. Only it couldn’t be. They’d done so much. More than they’d ever done before. Usually, the sun setting was their indication that it was time to wake up, that night was over, that they would rise soon. Only, the evening seemed to be very far away, still.
“Shouldn’t it be sunset by now?” Rose asked.
James shook his head. “I sure hope not. I’m not ready to wake up. Not yet.” He slid a hand under her breast and fondled it delicately. Rose felt a tremor of pleasure and sm
iled. She leaned back as he dipped his head and suckled her breasts. He knew just how to make her forget she had something else on her mind.
She closed her eyes and let just the feel of him overtake her. The way, he gently played his fingers down the side of her rib cage, the feather light touch sending sweet tremors through her body. His mouth made simple work of her bosom, suckling each nipple, his tongue encircling each breast as if it were his favorite sweet from the kitchen. Her body smoldered beneath his liquid strokes, and all she wanted was to lose herself in him.
Her body heated beneath his and her breath came in sultry gasps as he continued to lick her, up the collarbone, to her neck, and digging into that soft, nubile flesh at her nape. He played with that delicate skin, and she bucked beneath him as the intensity of his suckling sent waves of delicious pleasure through her. She cried out as he drove her mad with his persistent, and unforgiving bid to make her feel good. Oh. So. Good.
A nip at the ear, a tongue on the lobe. “Ah,” she breathed out, as it sent shivers through her body. And then his kiss on her lips, again. His mouth found hers. Fervent and needy, she kissed him back with full force, her hands finding his scalp, and fingertips running through his silky hair, as her mouth explored every delicious curve of his. Until finally she needed air and pulled away, gasping for a breath, but still yearning for him.
He smiled, a crooked, playful smile at her. “You’re beautiful,” he said, his hand stroking her cheek. “Cheeks as rosy as your name.”
“Rosy because of you,” she whispered back. And there was as great gleam in his eyes, as if looking at her had restored his vigor.
He tipped his head back slightly, a quick peek at the morning sun. “I feel alive when I’m with you,” he said, sliding his hand along her side until he reached her hips, where he veered inward, toward her tuft of hair beneath her hips. His fingers trailed through her forest of growth, lightly playing with her, until he reached her two luscious lower lips, and he slipped a finger inside. She was already moistening with anticipation as he nestled a finger on the soft folds of her slick flesh, and began to glide deftly along her edges. Rose’s breath hitched in her throat as the sensations seemed to travel through her body all at once, leaving her body tingling for more. James obliged, gingerly, adeptly, moving his fingers deeper inside her, quickening his pace. Her body quivered beneath him, and she spread her legs further apart and edged closer to the magic that was his hand. Her eyes closed, she tipped her head back, gulping in more air. She moaned in pleasure as James slowly toyed with her.
“I like to watch you,” he whispered. “The way your bosom heaves, the way your mouth makes that perfect little ‘o’ when you’re in ecstasy. The little frown you make when you’re ready for me, but I haven’t graced you with my presence.”
She opened her eyes and looked up at him, his eager, greedy, grin on his lips. “Did I just frown?” she asked him. “If not, I will. Because I want you, James. More than you can imagine.”
He pulled his slick fingers from her insides, and trailed them up the center of her belly, and then between her breasts and circled her right breast. “Are you sure you’re ready?” he asked, and Rose was sure her insides were desirous enough of his rigid cock that they could scream the answer for themselves.
Only, they didn’t. They wouldn’t. So, she breathed out. It was a plea, really. “Yes.”
With that, he grabbed a wrist with each of his hands, holding them down, as he positioned himself above her and his erection found its way into her warm, wet pussy.
She gasped as he entered her. The ecstasy was immediate, as if he’d put out a fire she hadn’t realized was raging so out of control. His rod dipped inside her, a slow, steady drum beat, as Rose enjoyed the deliberate strokes he delivered, each one causing her to coo with ecstasy. He leaned in and kisses her neck, doubling her pleasure as her body felt the rapturous assault on all levels. She titled her hips into him, the swipe of his cock radiating through her body, sending out waves of pure bliss.
She rocked with him as he found her breasts with his mouth, and she wanted to reciprocate, to slide her fingers down his taut body, but his hands still held tight to her wrists, locking her underneath him. She was his to pleasure, and she wouldn’t be relinquished until he had finished with her. Only, she didn’t want him to be finished with him. Every languid stroke made her yearn for another. They were powerful, and strong, and her body could feel it, the power he wielded each time he pushed inside her. It was as if he grew more exhilarated with every push.
He released her wrists, and she thrilled. A gasp escaped her lips, as he pushed hard into her, the thick, heavy stroke ripping the breath from her body. She wrapped her arms around his back, pressing her fingertips into the sinewy flesh. She felt his hands grab her ass and pull her closer to him. He wanted to be deeper, if that were even possible. Though she doubted it was, she wanted him too.
Leaning forward, she kissed his neck as she tried to pull his body closer, and he rammed harder inside her now, moving quicker. As he increased his pace, her body shuddered. His new, vigorous, punishing pace threatened to undo her. He squeezed each of her butt cheeks tighter to him, and she quivered. Her wetness enveloped him as he plunged in and out, faster, harder, determined.
The world around her seemed to quake as he rocked her body with his monstrous pace. Or perhaps only she quaked. Her breath was labored, and small, ragged gasps left her lips as he made an intense final push, flapping against her, a ramrod of thick joy as he continued his onslaught. He breathed harder, making a low gentle grunt, as he pushed hard and came inside her. Her entire body spasmed as he finished, a wave of gentle ecstasy rolling over her, and he leaned forward and kissed her.
Then he rolled beside her. “You make me whole, Rose,” he said, as he wrapped an arm around her. She nestled beside him, and closed her eyes. She couldn’t remember ever being so happy.
* * *
Peter stood at his brother’s bedside, his heart filling with sorrow. James was going to die, and there seemed to be no reasonable explanation. His mother believed it was magic. She’d heard of the princess in the neighboring kingdom being cursed into a hundred year sleep. She’d gotten so desperate, she’d sent an emissary to make the three day ride to find out if they had any advice or remedies.
Yet, there seemed to be no remedy, as there seemed to be nothing wrong, except his brother was asleep and wouldn’t wake. Only his body needed sustenance, and he wasn’t getting it because he was asleep. James was dying.
Peter looked over at the doctor who sat on the other side of James’ bed. “Any improvement?”
The doctor shook his head. “He still lives,” the doctor replied. “But I don’t have any clue how. And it won’t be for long. He hasn’t eaten or drunk anything for two weeks. His respiration grows weaker. I don’t know how he’s survived all this time, but if we don’t figure something out, he is surely lost.”
Peter looked down at his brother, so vibrant, so happy the last time they spoke. Only now, he was pale, quiet and nearly lifeless. And there was no answer for it.
* * *
Hilaria and Dwennon were seated in chairs in the queen’s private chamber. Across from them sat Blissa, regal and commanding. It was an air she rarely had about her. Not to say that she was common, but the royalty of the human kingdoms tended to believe themselves above the people and put up an invisible barrier. Blissa had never had such an air about her. She always seemed open, friendly and approachable, no matter what her visitor’s stations. And especially with fairies.
Hilaria knew something was wrong, but Blissa had yet to speak.
“Dearest child,” Hilaria said. “I know you wish to wake Rose. We are trying. We have looked everywhere for this James. Her room, her private things gave no clue where to find him, though they did mention her love for him. She meets him only in dreams.”
Blissa nodded. “I know,” she said. “I appreciate your finding this information. It has been helpful. But I think we need to do som
ething more drastic.”
Dwennon leaned forward. “How much more drastic?”
“As you know, I’ve tried to reach Rose in my own dreams, to contact her as I did when she was a child.”
“Yes,” Dwennon said. “But she doesn’t want to let you in.”
Blissa shook her head. “That’s just it, Dwennon,” she said. “I don’t believe she’s trying to keep me out. I believe she doesn’t know I’m trying. I believe the enchanted sleep can only be reached by someone else who is in an enchanted sleep.”
Dwennon began to shake his head. “You can’t do that, Blissa.”
Blissa turned to Hilaria. “Please,” she said. “I need you to put me under. I need to reach Rose. It’s the only way we can find out more about James. If we can find him, we can break the spell.”
Hilly shook her head. “Dear, I don’t know why you think I could or would do that to you, child.”
“Of course you can,” Blissa said, leaving her seat and kneeling in front of Hilly. “You’re a healing fairy. You have the power to induce an enchanted sleep for someone in a great deal of pain.”
“But you’re not …” Hilly started. Then she seemed to realize that she couldn’t finish that statement. “That’s not the kind of pain my enchanted sleep is meant to help with.”
Blissa didn’t let Hilly’s words deter her. “You’ve had sixteen years with my little girl, Hilly,” she said. “Sixteen years to experience the joy she brings, and I’ve had only stolen moments in dreams. I want to spend more time with her. I want her to live her life and not sleep away a hundred years of it. I need to reach her, to find out more about this James.”
“So you’ll be like your daughter? Stuck in an enchanted sleep and useless to all?”
Blissa shook her head. “Not useless, Hilly, finding out information.”
“And how are we to know when you’ve found the information? How are we to know when to bring you around?”
Dream Trysts: A Sleeping Beauty Story (Passion-Filled FairyTales Book 4) Page 8