To Wed a Wicked Prince

by Jane Feather

  “Thank you, Boris,” she managed to murmur. She raised her head from Alex’s shoulder and looked around the square, well-appointed hall. Stone-flagged floor, paneled walls, silver sconces. The staircase was a curving sweep of shallow steps that led up to a galleried landing.

  Alex’s eyes followed hers upwards and he chuckled. “Yes, we’re wasting time.”

  “Everything is arranged as you ordered, Prince,” Boris said with another bow.

  “Good.” Alex nodded with ill-concealed impatience. He turned to the stairs and strode up them, holding Livia tightly against him.

  She could feel his heart beating fast against her breast and her own speeded in response. At the head of the stairs Alex strode around the gallery and stopped at a door. “Lift the latch, love, my hands are full.”

  Livia leaned sideways and lifted the latch. Alex kicked the door open and carried his burden within, kicking it shut behind him. He carried her to the bed, leaned down, and deposited her with a little thump in the middle of the coverlet. Then he stood looking down at her, his brilliant blue gaze burning as his eyes ran over her supine figure.

  Livia licked suddenly dry lips. She felt the now familiar tightening in her belly, the pulsing in her loins, but there was something else too. A tiny tremor of apprehension blossomed deep within her as she felt the intent purpose in his gaze. In a short while her body would no longer belong to herself. Alex would possess her in every sense, and while she longed for it, she also now feared it.

  “There’s nothing to be afraid of, Livia,” Alex said softly, reading the spark of uncertainty in her wide gray eyes as she looked up at him. He reached down and pulled her into a sitting position. “You can’t make love in a hat.” It was a sufficiently prosaic observation to break the intensity for a moment, and the spark of apprehension became a mere flicker and then died. Alex unpinned her hat from her curls and tossed it with a flick of his wrist onto a nearby chair. His eyes were hooded, his mouth a soft curve as he leaned over and began to take the pins from her hair, releasing the knot of curls to cascade to her shoulders. He ran his hands through the dark mass, a look of total concentration on his face.

  “How I’ve been longing to do this since I first laid eyes on you.” He slipped his hand beneath the fall of her hair to palm her scalp, and then with aching slowness he brought his mouth to hers.

  A tremor ran through her, a slow, spreading warmth, and she leaned into him, her lips parting beneath his as his tongue demanded entrance. And now that there was no need for restraint, Livia felt herself slipping away from the center of the self that she knew. She was aware only of her body. Her nipples burned against the fine lawn of her chemise beneath the tight-fitting jacket as her tongue joined in the dance with his, her own hands pushing up beneath the fair hair, feeling the shape of his head with renewed delight.

  Alex drew his head back slowly, still clasping her neck. He looked at her face, framed in her tousled curls, the gray eyes heavy and languorous with passion, her lips kiss-reddened. “Stay right there, don’t move.”

  He eased his dark silk coat off his shoulders, without taking his eyes off her. He unfastened his white silk cravat and tossed it to join his coat on the chest at the foot of the bed. His waistcoat followed, and as Livia watched in breathless suspense he unbuttoned the tiny studs of his white shirt.

  Livia had felt the muscular power in his chest and shoulders, she had inhaled the warm fragrance of his skin, but nothing had prepared her for the sight of his naked torso. He turned to throw the shirt onto the chest and the muscles rippled down his long, lean back. When he turned towards her again, she gazed in delight at the narrow waist, the trail of dark hair disappearing into the waistband of his britches, and a gleam of amusement showed for a moment in his luminous eyes as they watched her expression.

  Methodically, and without apparent haste, he took off his shoes and stockings. His fingers went to the buttons of his britches and Livia moistened her lips again. He stepped out of his britches and once again gave her his back as he put them with his other clothes on the chest.

  Livia had glimpsed his sex before when she had pleasured him, but she hadn’t really absorbed the sight. Now she drank in his back view, his firm buttocks, the slim hips, the long, muscular thighs, and the hard calves. And when he turned slowly to the bed again her eyes lingered on his concave belly and the erect flesh that rose from a curly nest of black hair.

  Clothed, the prince was a most elegant figure. Naked, he was utterly magnificent. She held out her arms to him and he leaned over her, cupping her chin in the palm of his hand, bringing his mouth to hers. “Do I please you, my love?” he murmured.

  “Oh, yes…oh, most definitely,” Livia responded in a whisper. She stroked the smooth roundness of his bare shoulder, ran her hand down his arm, exploring the feel of his hard biceps. Prince Prokov was a man-about-town, an excellent dancer, an accomplished horseman, but he had the hard, athletic body of a man who knew how to wield a sword, a man who had known combat. Of course, Livia knew he had been a soldier, but until this moment, she had thought of his military service as more ceremonial than anything else. Feeling his strength beneath her hand as she explored his body, she knew how mistaken she had been.

  “I think it’s time to even the score,” he said softly, taking her hand away from his hip, where it had been tracing the sharp, jutting bone of his pelvis. “I would look at you now, my love.”

  Bringing one knee onto the bed, he began to unfasten the braided buttons of her jacket.

  He worked quickly and slipped the unbuttoned jacket off her shoulders. Her breasts swelled softly above the lacy bodice of her chemise and her nipples were hard and dark beneath the thin material. Alex slid a finger inside the neckline of the chemise, reaching down to the erect crown of her breast.

  He slipped the straps of the chemise off her sloping shoulders and bared the opalescent mounds of her breasts. His hands cupped their fullness and his tongue traced a moist path over them, flicking insistently at her nipples. Livia gave a little gasp and he raised his head swiftly, but saw only a wondrous glow in her eyes.

  He kissed the hollow of her throat as he found the hooks of her skirt. They flew apart with the ease of temptation and he half lifted her off the bed, holding her against him as he pushed the material away from her to gather in a heap at her ankles. “Lie back and let me rid you of these boots.”

  She obeyed, falling back on the bed, lifting her legs so that he could unbutton her boots. He tossed them aside and then leaned over her again, letting his flat palm roam over her body, her warmed skin a pearly pink beneath the filmy fabric of her chemise. His flat palm stroked over her belly, pressing the white silk against her skin, molding her body with the fine material. Slowly now he ran his hand up beneath her chemise, palming the roundness of her knees, sliding up her silk-stockinged thighs. When he reached her lace-trimmed garters, he smiled.

  “I think I need to see what I’m doing now,” he murmured. He took the hem of the garment and drew it up over her thighs. Her skin leaped, and the secret recesses of her body moistened in anticipation of his touch. He unfastened her garters and unrolled her silk stockings inch by inch.

  Livia was acutely aware that a mere strip of lawn kept her from complete nakedness. Her chemise was down to her waist and up to the apex of her thighs, and the air on her bared skin was a seductive, sensual breath. “Lift up,” he instructed softly, patting her hip. She lifted her hips and he drew the last filmy shreds of covering away from her.

  And then he spoke and his words shocked her. “Stand up,” he commanded quietly. “It’s time to dress you.”

  She stared at him, uncomprehending, and he took her hands and drew her upright and off the bed. “What are you doing?” she demanded.

  “I’ll show you,” he said. “Stand still for me and let me look at you properly.” He took a step back, running a long, lascivious look from her head to her toes. “Mmm,” he murmured. “It doesn’t really need any improvement, but one or two minor
additions might add a little spice. Close your eyes now.”

  Livia was too stunned and bewildered to argue. She simply closed her eyes and waited, standing naked in the middle of the chamber. She heard him moving around, opening something, and then felt him come back to her.

  “Keep your eyes closed.” His fingers were in her hair, threading something into her curls. Her eyelids fluttered and he said again, “Keep them shut. I haven’t finished yet.”

  She felt something cold and heavy go around her neck and her hands fluttered up to feel what it was. But he seized them swiftly. “Not yet.”

  Something circled first one wrist and then the other, and then she felt a pinch on both her earlobes. “What are you doing?” she whispered.

  “In a minute,” he responded. He put his hands on her shoulders and moved her forward. “All right, now you can open your eyes.”

  Livia’s eyes flew open and her mouth opened at the same time. She gazed at her image in the long cheval glass. Stark naked in the soft lamplight, but adorned with bloodred rubies. A three-stranded collar circled her neck, a silver fillet studded with the gems twined in her curls, two ruby studs glowed in her ears, and her wrists were banded with two strands apiece.

  “Dear God,” she murmured, awed by her image. “I look like a pagan sacrifice.”

  Alex laughed. “They really do suit you. I debated between diamonds and rubies, but I think that red fire is wonderful with your hair and eyes.” He stood behind her, sliding his hands around her, holding her breasts on his palms. “Now watch,” he said.

  Livia gazed into the mirror as he began to touch her again, his hands moving over her body. She saw her nipples peak anew beneath a flickering fingertip, and saw her skin take on a soft glow as arousal built once more. Her legs shifted on the richly hued carpet as his hands cupped her pubic mound, and she leaned back against him with a soft moan. His fingers parted the curly tangle covering her sex and she saw her eyes open wide in sudden surprised delight when his knowing touch found the little nub of flesh that hardened instantly beneath his caress. It was both shockingly decadent and intensely exciting to watch her own arousal as she stood naked but for the rubies glowing against her white skin. Her eyes were heavy, her countenance somehow soft, her parted lips red and moist.

  Her buttocks and thighs tensed as the coil wound ever tighter and his touch grew more insistent, bringing her to a climax of delight that was even more powerful than the first time. She leaned back against him, her pelvis thrust forward towards the mirror, her legs opened for him. She could see the moisture gleaming on her thighs, the rosy pink of her sex, and she let her head fall back onto his shoulder and gave herself to the pulsing glory that filled her.

  Alex held her up as her knees buckled. He slid a hand beneath her knees and lifted her, carrying her swiftly to the bed. He laid her down, urgently now, his touch no longer delicate as he knelt astride her and lifted her bottom on the shelf of his palms. With one thrust he drove into her still pulsating body, moist and ready for him. His entrance was smooth, her body unresisting.

  Livia gazed up at him, still lost in those moments of glory, but she was aware that her body was on the brink of something else, something even more wonderful. On the periphery of her mind she realized she had expected pain, but there was none. A sense of fullness, of something opening deep inside her, and then only this delightful fluid rhythm.

  Alex kissed her eyelids, the corners of her mouth, easing ever deeper within as her body opened for him. And only when he felt her tighten around him, saw the tears of joy start in her eyes, did he give in to his own need. He drove hard and fast and she threw her arms up over her head in a glorious abandonment to sheer delight, her hips rising with his every thrust until it was over, and they collapsed in a sweat-soaked tangle of limbs.

  Alex rolled onto the bed beside her, one arm flung over his eyes, his heart bounding against his ribs. His other hand rested on Livia’s belly. He laughed softly and turned his head to look at her. “So, my pagan sacrifice, all bedecked in rubies, how did it feel to be laid upon the altar of love?”

  “Wonderful,” she whispered, stroking his damp hair away from his brow. “And I thank you.”

  He propped himself on one elbow and looked down at her, slipping one finger into the ruby collar encircling her throat. “You may thank me for your wedding present, if you like, but not for the loving,” he said softly. “That was a shared gift.”

  “Then I thank you for the rubies,” Livia said, holding up an arm to examine the bracelet. “I think I shall wear them every time we make love. It might not be as good if I take them off.”

  “I doubt that,” he said with a laugh. “In my experience it can only get better. But it would please me if you keep them on for the time being.”

  “Certainly, my prince.” She rolled against him, settling her head in the damp hollow of his shoulder. “But now I’m very sleepy for some reason.”

  “It’s the usual effect,” he said, moving his hand down her turned flank, coming to rest on the swell of her hips. “Sleep, then.”

  He lay listening to her breathing become slow and even as she slid into sleep. And at last he felt he could answer the question he had posed to himself at the altar that morning. Was he offering her a fair exchange? Most definitely.

  Livia lay watching Alex through half-closed eyes. He was standing by the frost-glazed window, naked, beautifully so, and quite unaware of her covert observation. It was morning but the winter light was dim, obscured by the frost on the windowpanes, and the room was lit by the fire and a branched candelabrum on the bedside table.

  Alex seemed to be looking at something outside, his hands braced on the frames at either side of the window. She had grown accustomed to his naked body in the last few days, but she still gazed greedily at the long sweep of his back, the ripple of muscle in the broad shoulders, the taut muscular buttocks, the slim thighs.

  “What are you looking at?”

  He turned from the casement as she’d hoped he would and she drank in the sight of him, her eyes lingering on his flat stomach, the broad chest and tapering hips. His sex was for the moment quiescent, nestled in the thick tangle of dark hair at the base of his belly, and she smiled a little thinking how quickly she could arouse it to upstanding life.

  “I might ask you the same question,” he said with amusement. “Do I still please you, ma’am?”

  “You know you do.” She hitched herself onto one elbow. “Come closer, there’s one little adjustment I would make to the scenery.”

  He obliged, coming to stand beside the bed, his hands resting on his hips as he looked down at her. His penis stirred and when Livia reached a lazy hand to enclose it the shaft sprang to life instantly at her touch. She chuckled with satisfaction. “Much better.”

  “Have a little pity, my dear girl, I’ve barely had time to recover from the last marathon,” he protested without much conviction. “I appear to have taken a wanton to wife.”

  “You have only yourself to blame,” Livia murmured, increasing the pressure of her stroking caresses. “You’re too expert a teacher in the arts of loving, my prince.” She edged sideways on the bed so that her head was on a level with the part of his anatomy that held her interest, and delicately flicked his penis with the tip of her tongue. The candlelight caught the rubies at her throat and set the studs in her ears afire.

  Alex tried to resist the teasing play but failed miserably. With a low groan of submission he came down on the bed beside her. “After this, you insatiable wanton, you are getting up out of that bed. I don’t think you’ve put your feet to the floor once in the last three days.”

  Livia laughed delightedly and rolled on top of him. “I feel like doing it this way,” she declared, straddling his hips, running her hands over his concave belly, a fingertip tickling his navel. Her braceleted wrists flashed fire. She pushed her fingers through the cluster of gold hair on his chest and played with his nipples before lowering her mouth to his, taking control of the ki
ss, nibbling on his lips, demanding entrance with her tongue.

  Alex held her hips firmly as she kissed him deeply, and when she guided him inside her open, welcoming body he moved his hand to touch her at the exquisitely sensitive point of their fusion. Her body bucked with the jolt of sensation and she bit her lip, leaning back to hold her ankles as she moved her hips in a circle around him.

  She wanted it to last but the fever of passion was too high and greedily she reached for the heights, giving herself to the knowing touch of his fingers until she fell through the bottom of the world with a cry of triumph.

  Alex pulled her down on top of him, holding her tightly, their sweat mingling as the pulsing aftermath of shared climax slowed and ceased. He reached down and patted her bottom. “It’s time to get up now, my love, and reenter the world. There are things to do.”

  Livia groaned and rolled sideways onto the bed. “I need to sleep again. Such an extremity of pleasure exhausts me.”

  “Then sleep for a few moments.” Alex swung himself out of bed, enviably energized after that bout of activity. “I’m going to order a bath and a late breakfast.”

  But Livia had closed her eyes and was already drifting into the trancelike sleep that always followed their lovemaking.

  Alex shook his head in mock exasperation and pulled on a brocade dressing gown as he went to the door. He opened it and called for Boris, who appeared on the landing in a very few moments.

  “Yes, Your Highness?”

  “A bath, in fact two baths. One for the princess in here, and one for me in my dressing room. Send the maid up to attend to the princess; you may assist me. Oh, and tell the cook to prepare breakfast. We’ll take it in the dining room.”

  “Yes, sir.” Boris turned back to the stairs to execute his commissions. It had been three days since his master had brought his bride to the lodge, and in those three days neither of them had set foot outside the bedchamber.