She laughed as more tears coursed down her face. “Okay, so... I’m saying yes. Are you saying yes?”
Wrapping her in my arms, I pulled her against me and kissed her salty cheeks. “Scarlet, it has always been yes. I’ve been in love with you for half my life.”
“Me, too.” Her green eyes shone as she gazed up at me. “I was just too chicken shit to admit it to myself.”
I shook my head. “Doesn’t matter. Do I have to ask your parents or your mates for their blessing?”
“I already did. My mates, that is. We had a meeting and talked about it. My parents have always blessed us.”
I smiled down at her, my heart swelling with happiness as I took her hands in mine. “Hey, Scarlet?”
She stood on tiptoes and circled her arms around my neck. “Yeah?”
Leaning down, I brushed my lips over hers. “You really know how to make a first date special.”
The End.
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Chasing Her Cats (excerpt)
Trigger Warning:
This is a work of fiction that contains elements that many find triggering. If you are a sensitive reader, I recommend that you return this book and do not read further. It has strong Dark Romance themes including violence and issues of consent that are purely fantasy. The authors of this work do not endorse or condone real life violence or anything short of full, informed consent.
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Itzel
Princess, Ocelot Nation
From my position behind the dense shrubbery, I eased my head up just enough to take stock of the enemy. Ducking down quickly, I flattened my back against the prickly bushes and waited, blood thudding in my ears, the darkness ominously quiet around me. When no shots came, my eyes swept back and forth along the line of crouched warriors. “Ready?” I whispered, slotting the ammunition into my blowgun.
My team followed suit. When all guns were loaded, I waved my arm to signal them to move out, and they scrambled from seated positions to crouched and ready for action.
“Charge!” I screamed, leaping to my feet and clearing the shrubs in a single bound. Battle cries rose up around us as my team barreled onto the field, and the enemy scrambled to avoid being shot. I blew the dart from my gun, swerved to miss an opponent, and kept running. I had to find another hiding spot to reload, or I’d be vulnerable to attack.
“Itzel, you devil,” Tadeu cried, leaping after me. His fingers snagged at the ends of my black hair, but I wrenched free, ignoring the sting in my scalp. I leapt over another hedge only to hear footsteps heavy in pursuit.
Shit! I kept running, swerving down a narrow, shadowy lane. It lay abandoned to the night, like everywhere else in the kingdom. No one else dared break the king’s weeknight curfew. Only the faint glow of paint on the toes of my shoes provided illumination. I darted through the streets where I’d played as a child, my footsteps echoing behind me as I ran. Pausing at the end of an alley, I flattened my back against the wall, my heart pounding with exertion.
I slid my feet from my shoes, meaning to pick them up and sneak on silently. But a pursuer’s footfalls alerted me he was near, so I abandoned my shoes and darted out into the empty street. I streaked across, digging into my pocket for the keys I’d nicked from my father’s chambers before heading out that afternoon. I doubted he’d missed them—or me—that day.
Keeping my blowgun in one hand, I shoved the circular key into the indentation on the arena’s door. The door gave way with a groan, and I flinched at the sound. Without checking for a pursuer, I slipped into the inky blackness within. Feeling my way with my bare feet, I sidestepped along the wall until I found the tunnel that led onto the arena floor. I heard the door scrape behind me, followed by loud whispers.
Shit. There were several of them.
I darted forward, praying a janitor hadn’t left a bucket or other random item in the tunnel. Hard-packed dirt greeted my feet as I reached the main floor, and a grin spread across my face. The quiet patter of my footsteps on the ground echoed off the high ceilings, but I couldn’t afford to stop now. I ran at breakneck speed across the floor, counting on the echo to throw them off.
I ran smack into a pile of hay. Bundles topples in front of me, and I went sprawling on top of them, rolling to the floor on the other side.
Heart slamming, I scrambled around into a defensive position. Lying in wait, I raised my blowgun to my mouth and inserted a paint-dart. I was ready.
A footstep sounded somewhere in the arena, the soft padding almost inaudible. I tensed, straining my eyes against the darkness, my ears against the silence ringing inside them. Not another sound.
Where were they?
Suddenly, the rustle of hay sounded just behind me. Before I could twist around, strong hands grabbed my shoulders, forcing me to the floor. I struggled, fighting to stay silent as he pressed my face into the straw.
“Gotcha,” a rough voice murmured in my ear.
“Tadeu,” I growled, bucking under him. “Took you long enough.”
He crushed his body onto mine, pinning me with his weight. “Itzi,” he purred. “Game’s up, Princess.”
“I thought you’d never catch me.”
“But I did,” he said, his calloused fingers sliding under the edge of my shirt, skimming along the band of my shorts. “Are you my prize?”
“You wish,” I said, my breath quickening as his hand slid under me, pressing against the front of my shorts. I could feel his hard length pressing against my ass as I struggled.
“Why not?” he asked. “How long are you going to make me wait?”
“We’re in an arena with at least one other player,” I said. “Not now.”
“I’m starting to think you share your father’s opinion of me,” he growled, his fingers biting into my mound.
“I don’t,” I shot back. I squirmed against his fingers, but they only worked my shorts further into me. “How could you think that?”
“Maybe a stable hand isn’t worthy of Her Grace’s cherry,” he said, slipping a skillful finger under my shorts, tapping my clit through the layer of silk beneath.
“Of course you are,” I said. “And don’t call me that.”
“Why not? You are a princess, aren’t you?”
I snorted. “Try telling my father that.”
“I don’t have to,” he said. “He reminded me just the other day.”
“What?” I asked, finally twisting my body free and rolling over to face him.
“He’s noticed that we still spend time together,” Tadeu said bitterly. “He told me we should have outgrown these games, and I shouldn’t indulge you.” He slithered onto me, pressing a thigh between mine. “And that if I had too much time on my hands, he’d send me elsewhere, where someone could keep me better occupied.”
“No,” I said, gripping the corded muscles of his arms. Tadeu was my childhood best friend, my first kiss, my first and only love. As soon as my sister took the throne, I was going to convince her to let us marry. Father had laughed at me when I’d asked, but I’d been only a child then. I hadn’t dared ask once I’d been of marriageable age. Father would never allow such a disparate match, even for a human daughter like me. My sister, however, could be persuaded.
Tadeu slipped his fingers under the edge of my shorts again, this time beneath my damp panties. “What’s it going to be, Itzi? Are you going to give it up at last, or am I going to have to dream of your tight pussy while I fuck a stable maid against the barn wall again tonight?”
“Poor tragic Tadeu,” I said. “At least yo
u get fulfillment every night.”
“I can fill you full every night,” he said, sliding his finger into me.
I gasped and arched up, stifling a cry when I saw a paint splatter glowing like stars on another player. I bit down on my lip, holding in a moan of pleasure as Tadeu’s finger pumped into my wetness faster and faster. I squeezed my knees together, increasing the pressure on my clit. He pulsed his finger inside me, and a tiny whimper escaped my throat. Seconds later, a paint dart burst on my chest.
With a cry, I released Tadeu’s hand. He chuckled and drew away, flicking on a flashlight. His accomplice, Josue, stood grinning a few paces back.
“You cheater,” I cried, punching Tadeu furiously in one solid pectoral. “You just got me going so I wouldn’t run while your partner snuck up on me.”
“I could have just held you down and called for him, but this was more fun.” He popped his finger in his mouth and sucked greedily. “Tastes like cherries.”
“Stop calling it that, or I’ll give you a taste of my fist.”
Josue was laughing his ass off. “Rejected again,” he hooted.
Tadeu stood and offered me a hand, which I slapped away. “Have fun with your stable maid tonight. Too bad you can’t get anyone better.”
“Says the woman who begged me to fuck her the day I first kissed her.”
“You’re a vulgar, horrible man.”
“The best kind to fuck.”
“Then how come we haven’t?” I shot back. It wasn’t a fair question. I was the one who had stopped it every time. I wanted Tadeu, and I wanted him to be my first. I always had. But despite my wild upbringing, where I’d run free with the kitchen boys and stable hands, as dirty as a street urchin and as seldom watched over, some of the royal attitude must have worked its way into me when I wasn’t looking.
The truth was, I wanted my father’s approval. I didn’t want to, but I did. I longed for him to one day tell me he was proud of me. To tell me I’d done something right. I knew I’d never be queen—only the first child of two shifters could rule, as only they had the ability to shift. I was a throwaway child, an extra, an ordinary human like Tadeu and the other commoners I’d grown up playing with. As a commoner, I was lucky to live in the palace at all.
And yet, it wasn’t enough. Just once, I longed for Father to smile at me the way he did at Camila. I wanted him to tell me I’d chosen well. I wanted, one day, to elevate Tadeu’s status by marrying him. I didn’t want to be another girl he fucked in the hay loft. I wanted to be his proper wife.
Proper wives did not get fucked on the arena floor where the king hired dancers and fighters and magicians to entertain him. Proper wives didn’t get fucked by stable hands. Even if they were ordinary humans, proper wives definitely didn’t get fucked as a distraction tactic during a game of paint-darts in the dark.
“I’d better get home,” I said. “I need to return the keys before Father notices they’re gone.”
“The princess needs her beauty sleep,” Josue said.
“Don’t call me that.”
“You sleep in the palace, don’t you?” Tadeu asked, throwing an arm over my shoulder. I cuddled against his muscular chest, the frustration of my near-orgasm building inside me. If only Josue hadn’t interrupted us just then. He could have had the decency to wait until I’d come before he shot me. Of course, he probably hadn’t known exactly what was going on. Or hell, maybe he did. It wasn’t like Tadeu was some kind of gentleman who wouldn’t tell his friends how much the princess liked his fingerbanging.
“Damn, my shoes are gone,” I said when we got to the alley.
Josue cracked up again.
“It’s not funny,” I said. “Someone stole my shoes.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t leave them in the street,” Tadeu said. “Besides, whoever took them probably needs them more than you.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” I said, laughing as I started back toward the palace on bare feet, along streets as familiar to me as my own bedroom. There were the stairs where I’d fallen and broken my first bone (age eight), the doorstep where I’d had my first kiss (age eleven), and the bakery where I’d been caught stealing pastries and told I was too old for such shenanigans (age fifteen).
Who was I kidding? I was the worst princess ever. Father was never going to approve of me. I might as well get it over with and at least have some fun before I shriveled up and died of sexual frustration.
I stopped at the gates and threw an arm around Tadeu’s neck. Standing on tiptoes, I gave him a thorough kiss. “I’ll give it up when you invite me over to your house and make me feel special.”
He scoffed. “The princess wants to feel special.”
“Every girl wants to feel special,” I said, pressing my breasts against his chest. “And I don’t mean special to the Ocelot Clan. I mean special to you.”
“Oh,” he said, his hands falling on my hips and his eyebrows rising. “That’s it?”
“That’s it,” I said, nipping at his chin.
“Consider it done,” he said, his voice husky. “Tomorrow night.”
“See you then, Cowboy,” I said, giving his ass a squeeze before releasing him. I watched him swagger off towards the servants’ quarters behind the stables. With a smile on my face, I turned and jogged up the steps and into the palace, hoping no one would notice my bare feet or paint-splattered shirt.
I shouldn’t have bothered. No one gave me a second glance. I slipped by Gabor, the guard at the end of the hallway, and ran toward my room on tiptoes. By now, the guards were used to me running off at all hours and coming home in all conditions, but my heart still raced until I reached my door and could relax. It wasn’t until I slid through the door of my room that I realized my absence had been noticed.
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