She heard the counselor’s voice in her head: A royal must never show fear. Never! Struggling to regain her composure, Elizabeth licked her lush red lips. She was suddenly thankful that the room was pitch-black—otherwise the perpetrator would have seen her alarm.
“What do you want?” she said sharply as she tried to pull her arm out of the man’s steely grip.
But instead of a response, a second man gripped her other wrist, stretching her arms open wide.
“No!” she cried, trying to fight the men, but her struggles were useless. She heard a third man approach her and nearly screamed as his hand slipped into the front of her silk sheath and then ripped the sheer fabric from her body.
Her nipples were cold and stiff with fright in the cool, dark room. The edges of her short wool coat swung and scraped against her generous breasts, making them grow tighter.
Determined not to give in to her fear, she said, “What do you want from me?” hoping none of the men could hear the slight tremble behind her tough words.
Apart from the sound of her ragged breathing, the room was still and silent, until the man in front answered her question by roughly stripping her slip from her hips and ripping off her wispy silk thong in one fell swoop. Dropping between her legs, he ran one thick finger over her smooth, hairless pussy and then forced open her lips with both hands, wasting no time in grinding his face into her cunt.
Elizabeth tried to struggle against his bodily onslaught, but the other two men held her wrists so tightly, all she succeeded in doing was giving the man between her legs better access to her vagina.
His tongue had found her clit and he had begun to lick it in a lazy, circular motion. Against her will, Elizabeth found her hips swaying in the same pattern as his tongue, and she couldn’t stop the moisture from seeping onto the man’s tongue.
He slipped one large, rough, long finger into her tight pussy and a moan escaped from between her lips. Her sound of pleasure echoed off of the stone walls of her sitting room and reminded her that she had to fight to get away from these men.
Her kingdom depended on her escape and survival.
If they kidnapped her for their sexual pleasure, her country would fall into disarray. She struggled in earnest again, but even though she worked out with a personal trainer two hours a day, seven days a week, in a state-of-the-art gym, her captors were far stronger than she could ever be.
The man between her legs began to suck her swollen clit into his mouth, and increased his onslaught by dipping another finger in and out of her wet, increasingly slippery, needy passage.
And then, suddenly, her wrists were freed. But before she could react, before she could break away from the mouth sucking so urgently at her pussy, her jacket was ripped from her body.
Elizabeth now stood completely naked in her red stiletto heels. Her arms were held firmly behind her back by one of the men, forcing her large breasts out in front of her.
No matter how she tried to ignore the sensations pouring through her body, Elizabeth couldn’t resist the intense pleasure being given to her by the man kneeling between her legs. He was lapping and sucking at her swollen labia with such intensity, the next time his tongue slid across her clit and then pushed hard and pointy into her cunt, her knees weakened. Unable to stop herself from wanting more, she leaned part of her body weight onto the man’s mouth. His teeth ground against her as his lips sucked greedily at her clit.
The coarse skin of another man’s hands pushed the huge, smooth globes of her breasts together and Elizabeth waited feverishly for her nipples to be squeezed and touched. Even though it was wrong, even though these men were intruders into her kingdom, they had done nothing but bring her pleasure thus far. Could she trust them?
All thoughts of mistrust or fear or escape fled her mind when one of the men rolled her nipples between his fingers with just the right pressure to even further inflame her body.
“Please!” she begged as she rubbed her breasts into the hands that held them. “Suck them!” Quickly answering her command, a hot tongue found her and began to lick first one hard point and then the other.
Elizabeth ground her pussy into the tongue of the man on the floor. “Oh yes. Oh god, yes,” she groaned as her tits were sucked and pulled in the same rhythm that two wide fingers slid in and out of her engorged lips. She clenched her inner muscles around the fingers, wishing that one of the men would feed his cock into her, knowing a hard, hot penis pumping into her would make her fast-approaching orgasm complete.
And then, as if she had uttered her prayer aloud, the man behind her put one arm around her waist and bent her forward several inches. Still keeping a firm grasp on her wrists behind her back, he began to rub his thick, hot cock between her ass cheeks.
Elizabeth tried to wriggle her vagina closer to the cock she so desperately craved, but the man between her legs was holding her hips steady between his big hands while continuing to torment her clit with his tongue, lips, and teeth.
Inflamed with desire, wanting nothing more than to be fucked hard by the large, stiff cock at her back, she assumed the voice of the Queen that she was and ordered the men to give her the ultimate pleasure that she now needed more than anything else in the world.
“Fuck me,” she said as she rubbed her slick, sensitive nipples against the stubble of the man toying with her breasts and then into his mouth, and then back out again across the stiff bristles on his cheeks.
“Fuck me hard,” she repeated, as she simultaneously pushed her clit up against the thick, hot tongue of the man between her knees and hiked her hips up so that the man behind her could get better access to her cunt.
“Fuck me now!” she demanded.
Her wishes were obeyed as the first inch of a thick cock opened up her labia and slipped into her slick warmth. “More,” she demanded and the man behind her obeyed, abruptly pushing his enormous cock in to the hilt. Tongues lapped furiously at her clit and her breasts as the cock rammed in and out of her again and again.
Gasping for air, all breath was ripped from her lungs in an incredibly powerful explosion that ripped through her body. She bucked wildly against the mouth between her legs, into the hips and cock ramming into her from behind, into the lips and tongue that felt like they were sucking every last piece of come from her body through her tits.
She fell limply into the arms of the man on the floor and it took several long moments for her to catch her breath. Finally she stood up in her heels and said, her voice no longer holding any hint of sexuality at all, “Open the drapes.”
The three men quickly moved to do her bidding and then stood before her waiting for her next command.
Sunlight streamed into the room and Elizabeth stood proudly naked before the men, enjoying the sight of their rippling muscles and huge hard-ons. She ran one red-nailed finger up a large cock still glistening with her come and said, “Excellent work, men. You may go.”
The men dressed silently while Elizabeth watched the light play over their perfect bodies. Her cunt was still throbbing from their delicious onslaught and she considered keeping one or two of the men behind for round two.
The phone rang and she quickly crossed the floor in her heels, her long legs supple and elegantly muscled, paying no attention to the appreciative glances from her sexual servants.
“Elizabeth,” she said crisply into the phone and then, “Fuck. I forgot,” slamming the phone back into its cradle.
She looked back at the men, knowing she’d have to wait until later for another glorious group fuck.
Not bothering to wash off the saliva and come on her body, she forgot all about the three men as she entered her huge, well-lit closet. She pulled another Chanel suit from the top rack and slipped into it. She ran an ivory-tipped comb through her hair, then pinned it back into a neat bun with several bobby pins. Her flawless skin needed nothing more than a light sweep of red lipstick. Pausing to inspect herself in the green and yellow suit, pleased at her tidy, only slightly flushed reflection, s
he kicked off her red spike heels, and slipped into green Manolo Blahniks adorned with four yellow straps across her arch.
Noting that her “bodyguards” had left, she grabbed her briefcase and stepped out into the dimly lit hall, closing the door behind her with a click, already having forgotten about the sexual delights from mere minutes ago.
It was time to head back into the business of being Queen.
Chapter Two
Elizabeth swept into the large courtroom. Without offering any apologies for being over an hour late to the proceedings, she strode towards the large leather chair in the front of the room, a picture of elegance and confidence in her well-tailored suit and expensive shoes. She sat down, crossing her long, supple legs sensuously.
Banging a wooden gavel down on the table before her, she said, “We may begin.”
Visitors to Magonia were always amazed when they found out that the Queen still ruled all of the court cases. Writers of history books marveled at the power that one woman had in their country, but as far as Elizabeth was concerned, being the judge and jury for every court case was a huge pain in the ass.
She derived little pleasure from listening to whiny stories from people who had stolen from a local shopkeeper, from husbands who said their wives had been unfaithful and wanted a divorce, from business partners whose joint venture had gone sour. Most of all, she hated displays of emotion in the courtroom. For a woman who had never been allowed to express even the littlest of emotions, no matter how dire the situation, she had no patience whatsoever for tears, sobs, or even sniffles, regardless of the hows, whens and whys.
Consequently, Elizabeth ruled every case quickly and efficiently. She had developed a remarkable talent of cutting straight through the bullshit to the heart of the matter. The quicker she made sense of a case, the quicker she could rule and get on with her day.
Particularly on a day such as this when her men had only served to whet her appetite and she was ready for more explosive orgasms.
The minutes crept by as she pronounced her rulings on dozens of cases. She had already read the files on each case, so she needed little additional testimony. She closed the file on her final case and began to stand up, when her court counselor slipped one more folder before her.
Elizabeth sighed loudly, but dutifully sat back down. A local man was being accused of tax evasion. She frowned and quickly read through the evidence, noting that there wasn’t nearly enough data in the file to prosecute the man. She had no doubt that it was a clear-cut case of someone trying to get back at the man for bad investment advice.
“Is Gavin Court present?” she asked in a crisp voice.
A strikingly beautiful man rose out of the final row of seats in the back of the courtroom and came forward. “Your Highness,” he said with an over-exaggerated bow.
Elizabeth was glad for her years of training at hiding her emotions. How could she have missed such a man as this sitting in her courtroom? Even with just a quick glance, she could see that he packed a powerful punch between his legs. She knew with the utmost certainty that time spent with this man would be hours upon hours of pleasure.
As was her way, Elizabeth studied him carefully, feeling that she needed to know everything about him. His hair was more black than brown and fell to his shoulders, in need of a trim. His green eyes seemed lit with an inner fire that promised naughty pleasures to anyone who should be lucky enough to lie naked beneath his gaze. His shoulders were so broad, they looked ready to burst through the linen of his shirt. And his legs were well-muscled, lovingly encased in worn blue jeans.
She considered him thoughtfully. Perhaps when this case was closed she would invite him to the castle for a night neither of them would ever forget. And yet, she couldn’t get beyond the fact that everything about his stance, the ridiculous little bow, seemed to be mocking her.
“Your accent tells me you are not from here,” she said when she had finished her perusal.
He swept her body with an intimate glance, his eyes coming back to rest on her ample breasts. Finally, having looked his fill, he bestowed a grin on her. He had decided to play the role of a charming scamp, obviously aware of the power he had over women with a mere grin. Elizabeth very much disliked the feeling that she was being played for a fool. This man obviously did not know whom he was dealing with.
Nobody got the better of Elizabeth Orleans. Nobody. No matter how good looking he was or how big his penis was.
“I used to live in California,” he said. “I moved to Magonia last year.”
“And yet you have the necessary permits to run a financial investment company within the borders of our country?”
“My mother was born here and so was I.” Giving her a sharp glance that said she wasn’t going to be able to pin anything on him, he said, “I retained my citizenship.”
“What is your plea in this case?” Elizabeth asked, her voice laced with scorn. Even though she was certain that Gavin was innocent of any crime and was even more certain that he would be a mind-blowing screw, she refused to either let him off easy or to give in to the throbbing longing between her legs. She steadfastly ignored how hot and bothered she felt. She disregarded her need to step down off the raised platform and kneel in front of him to unzip his pants, to run her tongue up and down the big, juicy length of his cock.
Gavin’s grin fell away, replaced with a hard look. “Not guilty, of course. Anyone with half a brain could see that I’ve been set up.”
Elizabeth raised one perfectly plucked eyebrow. “So the question is not whether or not you are guilty, is it Mr. Court? The question is merely whether or not I can make use of at least half of my brain?”
Gavin narrowed his eyes, then said, with obvious sarcasm. “That does seem to be the case, Your Highness.”
The onlookers in the courtroom gasped.
Elizabeth leaned back in her chair, looking like a cat who had plunged into a vat of cream. “Mr. Court, I am sorry to have to tell you that although you retained your Magonia citizenship, you have neglected to keep up with local laws. You see,” she said, leaning forward to give her soon-to-be-prisoner a generous look at her full breasts, looking not the least bit sorry, “in order for our court cases to run smoothly, the local people voted a unique law into place nearly one hundred years ago, which states, and I quote, ‘Anyone who insults a judge during a court proceeding will be automatically sentenced to eight hours locked within the stockade.’ This,” she said, with a satisfied glint in her eyes, “is to ensure that the person has ample time to think about his or her behavior.”
Elizabeth tapped one long red fingernail on the table before her. Considering what she had just told him, she was rather impressed with Gavin’s stony expression. Of course, she would never let him know that she had anything but the greatest disrespect for him. He was a man, she decided, who must be firmly put into his place.
“Have you nothing to say for yourself?” she asked him imperiously.
Gavin held his hands out to the two guards that flanked him. “I can’t think of anything I’d rather experience more than eight hours locked up in an ancient wooden stockade.” Looking disparagingly up and down Elizabeth’s well-displayed charms, his upper lip curled. “Nothing at all.”
Elizabeth felt her cheeks flame with fury. No man had ever been able to resist her sexuality, no man had ever judged her body and found her wanting. But this man had practically spat his distaste of her in front of the entire courtroom.
“Take him away!” she cried, and then immediately spun around in her chair, and disappeared through a door behind her.
* * * * *
Thirty minutes later, Elizabeth stood in the window of a guest room two stories above the stockade. She looked down upon her new prisoner, her blood heating up at the sight of his perfect physique.
His shirt had been stripped from his body and even though he stood beneath the hot midday sun with his head and arms locked into the stockade, Elizabeth could feel his pride was not lost. Not in the l
east.
Well-defined muscles across his shoulders and chest were glistening with sweat, and Elizabeth found that she longed to taste him. Even more now than in the courtroom, Elizabeth wanted this man.
Her fingers instinctively moved to play with her breasts. She unbuttoned her silk shirt until the mounds of her breasts rose up over the fine lace of her bra. As her cold fingers slipped beneath pink lace to find her hot, tight nipples, as she squeezed them between her slender thumb and forefinger, Gavin turned his head and looked directly into her eyes.
Knowing she had been caught watching him, admiring his partial nakedness, hot juices flooded her. Elizabeth squeezed her legs together while twisting her nipples within her hands, unable to stop touching herself.
She wanted to give the arrogant man something to think about during his long hours in the sun. She wanted to teach him a lesson about not treating his Queen with the proper respect. Oh yes, she wanted to show him exactly what he was missing. She moved closer to the low window and leaned forward until her breasts were just skimming the glass.
She thought she saw passion leap up into her prisoner’s eyes, and she decided to go further with her taunts, to tease him mercilessly with her luscious body. She wanted him to know that he could have had the privilege of licking the come from between her lips, had he only behaved properly in the courtroom.
Slowly, she stripped off her jacket and threw it onto the stone floor. Next, she undid the remaining buttons on her silk shirt, pulling it out from her skirt. As she shrugged the shirt off her slender shoulders, she shook her breasts and enjoyed the feeling of them jiggling wildly above the edge of her bra. Her nipples grew harder as they scraped against the lace of her bra and brushed against the cool glass on the window.
Taunting her prisoner was one of the most sensuous things she had done in a long time—her capture fantasies with her bodyguards had gotten a bit boring in the past year, she realized—and she moaned as she ran her hand down the front of her skirt to her throbbing mound and squeezed her pussy through the fabric.
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