Hoyt, Elizabeth - The Leopard Prince2.txt
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incredibly cunning. The cage was all of one piece but separate from the
leopard within. He would’ve had to whittle the animal inside the cage.
The leopard in turn wore a miniscule chain about its neck, each link
carefully delineated. A tiny, tiny crown hung from the chain.
“It’s marvelous,” she said, “but why did you carve the leopard in a cage?”
He shrugged. “It’s enchanted, isn’t it?”
“I suppose, but—”
“I thought you’d ask me why I’m here.” He paced to the dresser.
She’d have to tell him soon, just not yet. Not while he seemed on the
verge of flight. George set the caged leopard on her knees. “No. I’m
just glad you’re with me.” She poked a finger through the bars and
gently moved the leopard’s necklace. “I’ll always be happy when you come
to me.”
“Will you?” Harry was looking down at the carved animals.
“Yes.”
“Hmm,” he murmured noncommittally. “Sometimes I’ve asked that question
of myself: Why I keep coming back when I’ve already said good-bye.”
“And do you have an answer for yourself?” George held her breath, hoping.
“No. Except that I can’t seem to stay away.”
“Maybe that’s your answer, then.”
“No. It’s too simple.” He turned to look at her. “A man should be able
to lead his life, make his decisions, in a more reasoned way. I said I
would leave you, and so I should have.”
“Really?” She set the leopard on the little table beside her bed and
propped her chin on her knees. “But then what are emotions for? The good
Lord gave them to men just as much as he gave intellectual thought.
Surely He meant us to use our feelings as well?”
He frowned. “Emotions shouldn’t hold sway over reasoned thought.”
“Why not?” George asked softly. “If the Lord gave us both, then surely
your emotion—your love of me—is just as important as what you think
about our match. Perhaps it’s more important.”
“Is it for you?” Harry began to walk back to the bed.
“Yes.” George lifted her head. “My love for you is more important than
the fears I might have of marriage or of letting a man have dominion
over me.”
“What fears are those, my lady?” He had reached her bedside again. He
stroked a finger down her cheek.
“That you might betray me with another woman.” She leaned her cheek on
his hand. “That we might eventually grow apart and even come to hate
each other.” She waited, but he didn’t try to allay her worries. She
sighed. “My own parents didn’t have a happy marriage.”
“Nor did mine.” Harry sat on the bed to take off his boots. “My mother
betrayed Da for years; perhaps for the whole of their marriage. Yet he
forgave her again and again. Until he could forgive her no more.” He
removed his coat.
“He loved her,” George said softly.
“Yes, and it made him weak and eventually led to his death.”
She could no more reassure him than he’d been able to reassure her. She
wouldn’t ever betray him with another man; she knew that. But who was to
say she wouldn’t lead to his destruction in another way? Did loving her
make Harry weak?
George studied the caged leopard. “He gets free, you know.”
He paused in unbuttoning his waistcoat and raised his eyebrows.
She held up the carving. “The Leopard Prince. He’s freed in the end.”
“Tell me.” He shrugged off the waistcoat.
She took a deep breath, and said slowly, “The young king brought the
Golden Eel to the father king, just as he had the other gifts. But the
Golden Eel was different.”
“It was ugly.” Harry started on his shirt.
“Well, yes,” George admitted. “But besides that, it could speak, and it
was wise. When the father king got it alone, it said, ‘Tush! That
weakling no more stole me than the wind did. Listen now, tell the young
king that the beautiful princess will only marry the man who wears the
golden chain with the emerald crown on it. Then you will have the man
who has done all these wonderful things. That man and no other shall be
her bridegroom.’ ”
“I’m beginning to suspect you are making parts of this fairy tale up, my
lady.” Harry tossed his shirt to a chair.
George held up her hand. “On my honor as a Maitland. This is exactly how
Cook’s aunt told it to me in the kitchen of my town house over tea and
crumpets.”
“Huh.”
She leaned back against the headboard. “So the father king marched back
to the young king and told him the Golden Eel’s words. The young king
smiled and said, ‘Oh, that’s easy enough!’ And he didn’t even have to
return home, for he’d brought the Leopard Prince with him. He went to
the Leopard Prince and said, ‘Give me that chain that hangs about your
neck.’ ” She paused a moment to watch as Harry started to unbutton his
breeches. “And what do you think the Leopard Prince said?”
He snorted. “Shove it up your”—he glanced at her—“nose?”
“No, of course not.” She frowned severely. “No one talks like that in
fairy tales.”
“Perhaps they ought.”
She ignored his mutter. “The Leopard Prince said, ‘Impossible, my liege,
for if I remove this chain, I will soon sicken and die.’The young king
replied, ‘Well, that’s a pity, for I’ve found you quite useful, but I
need the chain now, so you must give it to me at once.’And so the
Leopard Prince did.” George looked at Harry, expecting a protest, a
comment, something.
But he simply returned her gaze and removed his breeches. This made her
temporarily forget where she was in the fairy tale. She watched as he
sat on the bed beside her, quite nude.
“And?” he murmured. “Is that it? The Leopard Prince dies and the young
king marries the beautiful princess?”
George reached up and untied the black ribbon holding his queue. She ran
her fingers through his brown hair, spreading it on his shoulders. “No.”
“Then?”
“Turn around.”
Harry arched his eyebrows, but turned so his back was to her.
“The young king presented himself to the father king,” George said
quietly as she stroked her hands down his back, feeling the bumps of his
spine. “And the father king had to admit that he wore the chain
described by the Golden Eel. Reluctantly, he sent for his daughter, the
beautiful princess.” She paused to dig her thumbs into the muscles that
sloped up from his shoulders to his neck.
Harry let his head fall forward. “Ahhh.”
“But the beautiful princess took one look at the young king and started
laughing. Naturally, all the courtiers and ladies and lords and the
people who hang about a royal court just stared at the beautiful
princess. They could not understand why she laughed.” She worked her
fingers into the muscles at the back of his head.
Harry groaned.
George leaned forward and whispered in his ear as she bore down on his
shoulder muscles. “F
inally her father, the king, said, ‘What causes such
mirth, my daughter?’ And the beautiful princess said, ‘Why, the chain
doesn’t fit him!’ ”
“How can a chain not fit?” Harry mumbled over his shoulder.
“Shhh.” George pushed his head back down. “I don’t know. It probably
hung to his knees or something.” She dug her thumbs into the hills along
his spine. “Anyway, the beautiful princess looked around the court and
said, ‘There. That is the man the chain belongs to.’ And, of course, it
was the Leopard Prince—”
“What, she just picked him out of the crowd?” He twisted out of her
hands this time.
“Yes!” George placed her hands on her hips. “Yes, she just picked him
out of the crowd. He was an enchanted Leopard Prince, remember. I’m sure
he looked quite distinguished.”
“He was dying, you said.” Harry was almost surly now. “He probably
looked a right mess.”
“Well, he didn’t after the beautiful princess put the chain back on
him.” George crossed her arms. Really. Men were quite unreasonable
sometimes. “He got better right away, and the beautiful princess kissed
him, and they were married.”
“Probably it was the kiss that revived him.” Harry’s mouth quirked. He
leaned toward her. “And was the spell broken? He never turned into a
leopard again?”
She blinked. “Cook’s aunt didn’t say. I would think so, wouldn’t you? I
mean, that is the usual thing in fairy tales, the spell is broken and
they marry.”
She was frowning thoughtfully and was consequently caught off guard when
Harry lunged and captured her wrists. He pulled her hands above her head
and loomed over her menacingly. “But perhaps the princess would have
preferred that he remain a Leopard Prince.”
“Whatever do you mean?” George asked, batting her eyelashes.
“I mean”—he nibbled at her neck—“it might have been more interesting on
their wedding night.”
She squirmed under the sensations he was arousing and stifled a giggle.
“Wouldn’t that be bestiality?”
“No.” Harry took her wrists in one hand and used the other to whip off
her covers. “I’m afraid you are mistaken in that, my lady.” He flung up
her shift, exposing her nude legs. She spread them invitingly, and he
settled his hips there, making her gasp at the contact. “Bestiality,”
Harry murmured in her ear, “is congress between a human and a common
animal, such as a horse or bull or rooster. Sexual activity with a
leopard, on the other hand, is merely exotic.” He nudged his hips,
burrowing the length of his penis between her folds and touching her
just /there./
George’s eyes closed. “A rooster?”
“In theory.” He licked along her neck.
“But how could a rooster—?”
He used his free hand to pinch her nipple.
She moaned and arched beneath him, spreading her knees wider.
“You seem very interested in roosters,” he purred. Harry rubbed his
thumb over her nipple.
He hadn’t moved his hips since that first time. George tried to bump
hers up to encourage him, but his full weight lay heavily on her, and
she realized he wasn’t going to move until he wanted to. “Actually, you
could say I’m more interested in one /cock/ in particular.”
“My lady.” He raised his head, and she could see the censorious frown on
his lips. “I’m afraid I do not approve of such language.”
She felt a gush of erotic desire. “I’m sorry.” She lowered her eyelashes
demurely. “Whatever can I do to win your approval?”
There was silence.
George began to wonder if she had overstepped some boundary. But then
she glanced up and saw Harry trying to repress a smile.
He bent his head until they were nose-to-nose. “It won’t be easy to get
in my good graces again.” He flicked her nipple with a fingernail.
“No?”
“No.” Almost casually he tugged the ribbon on her chemise and pulled it
down. He cupped her breast in his hand. His palm felt incredibly hot.
“You will have to work very hard.” He flexed his hips, sliding between
her folds.
“Mmm.”
Harry stopped moving. “My lady?”
“What?” George muttered irritably. She nudged up, but he wouldn’t move.
“Pay attention.” He pinched her nipple again.
“I /am./” She opened her eyes wide to prove it.
He moved again. Agonizingly slow. She could feel the head of his
erection slipping down, almost to her entrance and then back up to kiss
her clitoris.
“You want to win my approval,” he reminded her.
“Yes.” She would have agreed to just about anything he said.
“And how are you going to do that?”
She had an inspiration. “By pleasing you, sir?”
He appeared to give that serious thought. All the while, his cock rubbed
against her and his hand fondled her breast. “Well, yes, that might be
one way to do it. Are you sure that’s the way you want to choose?”
“Oh, yes.” George nodded fervently.
“And how will you please me?” His voice had lowered to that deep tone
that meant he was very aroused.
“By tupping you, sir?”
Harry froze. She was afraid for a moment that she might have shocked him.
Then he lifted his hips. “That’ll do.” And he thrust himself into her,
hard and fast.
She felt a scream building in her throat as he pounded her into the
mattress, all trace of playfulness wiped from his face. She wrapped her
legs high over his hips, digging her heels into his buttocks. He’d let
go of her wrists, and she dragged his head down by his hair to kiss him.
Deeply. Ravenously. Desperately.
/Please, please, dear Lord, don’t let this be the last time./
He was relentless, and she could feel the explosion building within her,
but she held it off, forcing open her eyes. It was important that she
see him, that they be together at the end. His face was shining with
sweat, his nostrils flared. As she watched, his rhythm broke. She let go
of his hair to clutch at his shoulders, her entire being focused on
keeping him within her.
And she felt it, at the end.
He reared back, his hips still locked with hers. She could feel his cock
jump within her. Feel the spurt and warmth of his seed filling her. She
arched her head and gave herself over to the waves of her own release,
creaming and flooding with his. It was magnificent, like no other thing
she had ever felt, having Harry spend in her body. Tears ran down her
temples into her tangled hair. How could she ever let him go after this?
Harry suddenly shifted and tried to withdraw. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“Shhh.” George placed her fingers against his mouth, silencing his
apology. “I’m increasing.”
/Chapter Eighteen/
The word /increasing/ seemed to echo around Lady Georgina’s room,
bouncing off the china-blue walls and dainty lace bed curtains. For a
moment, Harry
thought she meant that he’d made her pregnant just now
when he’d filled her with his seed. When he’d been seduced by the force
of his orgasm and the accompanying surge of his feelings for her.
Love for his Lady Georgina.
Even knowing he had to withdraw, he’d simply been unable to resist the
moment. Unable to resist the woman.
Then sense returned. He rolled off Lady Georgina and stared at her. She
was pregnant. He felt a spurt of ridiculous anger, hurt, that all his
self-debate and worry didn’t in the end even matter.
She was pregnant.
He’d have to marry her. Whether or not he wanted to marry her. Whether
he could bring himself to let go and trust in their love. Whether he was
able to fit himself into her life, so far out of his experience. All of
that was beside the point now. Put simply, it was no longer of any
importance. He’d been trapped by his own seed and a woman’s body. He
almost felt like laughing. That least-smart part of himself had made the