From A Harlot To A Princess

by Cage Thompson

  All yours, a satisfied voice murmured, and his smile broadened.

  He brushed a few strands of wild hair from her dewy face, before leaning forward to kiss her lips. He felt her jerk slightly as if electricity had shot through her too, splashing the slightly warm water against the edges before settling down again.

  Reaching out, he set the system to drain, before heading to the master bathroom to grab some towels. Placing the glass on the marble counter of the double-basined sink, he grabbed dry towels from the hidden cupboard behind the human size, wall-glass. Returning to the bedroom, he pulled back the top spread and placed a large towel on it, putting the others beside it in a neat pile.

  Rolling up the sleeves of his pristine, white shirt, he toed off his handmade, black, Italian leather loafers, before peeling off his socks and stuffing them into the shoes. Placing his warm feet on the cool tiles, he sighed appreciatively before tucking his shoes into a corner.

  Rising, he padded his way to the Jacuzzi, and gently lifted the sleeping bundle into his arms, and out of the now halved bath. He clenched his jaws when she cuddled closer, her hand falling against the open V of his shirt, and his groin tightened instantaneously. Placing her slippery body on the soft towel, he adjusted his pants, before sitting beside her and grabbing one of the hand towels. Drawing a breath, he wiped away the moisture from her forehead, and above her lips, before going lower.

  She sucked in a breath, as the soft, terry material brushed her flat nipples with a little bit of warm skin; instantly, they peaked. She swallowed, as the motion continued down her sides, and over her abdomen. A slight contraction –the tightening of her skin- began, intensifying with each stroke.

  Carter swallowed, as her skin began to take on a flushed appearance and his pants tented some more. Another rough swallow followed, because he realized that she was becoming aroused in her sleep; her erect nipples testified to that openly.

  Turning his back to her front, he reached for her feet, quickly absorbing the water on both legs with two of the hand towels. He swallowed once more as he parted her thighs and brushed the material over the low, moist curls, that covered her mound.

  She gasped when his hand slipped from the towel, as he brought it down once more, and it brushed her pearl; it instantly began swelling, which caused him to swear softly.

  Carter brought his head up to look into her hazel eyes, now liquid gold, when she grabbed his wrist as he started to remove his hand. His heart slammed frantically against the guard rails of his ribs at her expression.

  He swallowed as her delicate fingers tightened around his hand and she drew in an audible breath, something hot and steamy flashing through her flared eyes. Without breaking eye contact, she guided his fingers to her heat, drawing up and apart her legs. Now, one knee was tucked elegantly against his chest, as she somewhat timidly, ran his hand over her folds.

  She released a sharp breath at the contact, and his body jerked, as her mouth opened as her eyes rolled back, her hips raising her succulent lips to nestle against his palm.

  He looked at her steadily, his heart beating in his tongue, as she brought her eyes back to his when he didn’t take up her offer. His affixation with the increasing moisture on his fingers had caused him to freeze.

  So wet; so, so wet, was all that was going through his mind.

  The emotions in her hazel eyes caused him to gulp unsteadily, before sealing his wanton expression as a frown folded her brows into a soft V, lust stupefying her brain too much for her to realize that he was in too deep to even respond.

  Leaning forward, he placed a kiss there- right on the soft V- and then on her nose. Her nails dug into his wrist, and he sought her eyes once more. He flexed his wrist and she panted, her eyes widening when he didn’t make any other movement. By this time, lust had become like sweet poison in her slender frame; one she was itching to get more of.

  “Carter,” she begged, her throat constricting, causing him to smile.

  Coupling his index and middle fingers, he ran a straight line between her folds, and she hissed out a breath; a million bright lights lit up behind her lids, but were cut short by the consecutive stillness.

  “Always so moist, Miss Jones?” He questioned mockingly, around his tight throat, as she ground her hips against his palm, trying to get his fingers where she wanted, rather, needed them.

  ✽✽✽

  Rochelle groaned, and thrashed her head from side to side in frustration, angry tears gathering in her tear ducts when he refused to cooperate with her. “Dammit, Carter!” She hissed, her voice heavy with annoyance and pent-up need.

  “What should you say?” He questioned provokingly, his accent thickening.

  Rochelle opened her eyes, and looked at him with a frown, not registering the small beads of sweat that were beginning to pepper his brow. In her current state of cotton brain, she had no idea what he meant, or what he was asking for. Her irritation mounted, along with the sexual tension tightening her muscles.

  Did he need her to do something for him first? She wondered crossly.

  Easing up, she let go of his hand to cup the back of his head, placing a wet kiss on his lips.

  He responded unhurriedly, leisurely, teasingly, as if he was only humoring her.

  Maybe he was, and that thought only increased her ire, making her determined to raise his blood pressure as much as he had raised hers, seemingly unintentionally.

  Slanting her lips against his, she cupped his face to try to deepen the kiss. A frown pleated her brow once more, and she growled when he kept his mouth closed after she ran her tongue over his bottom lip, biting it gently as an indication at a request for entry.

  Smiling, Carter pulled back, and pushed her between her shoulder blades, causing her to fall against the pillows once more.

  “Thank you for that, sweetheart, but that will not get you what you want,” he stated crassly, before cramming both fingers between her folds.

  She cried out, and arched off the bed, her thighs quivering.

  With the same intensity, he withdrew his fingers, causing her to shout in protest of the anticlimactic emotions. “And I believe, that that is what you still want,” he murmured asininely, as he stroked her folds, her legs quaking.

  Raising a brow, he reached for her hand beside his thigh, and placed it on his large package. Her fingers automatically flexed, and he mentally hissed out a breath, stopping her with his free hand.

  “Maybe, this is what you really want, cara,” he stated suggestively, unceremonious pressing his thick fingers into her retreat once more, starting a rapid scissor motion between her walls.

  He watched as her eyes glazed over, pleased.

  She threw her head back as she arched off the bed, struggling to catch breath, her cry and words seemingly stuck in her throat. Her fingers dug into his biceps as soon as she had snatched them from beneath his hand on his groin.

  He felt the small quakes radiating through her body, and felt the added liquid around his fingers as she neared climax, her walls tightening around him. As soon as he felt the shudders intensifying, and her muscles stiffening, he withdrew his fingers, causing her to cry out, the once forgotten tears reforming in her eyes.

  “What should you say, belle?” He demanded; his jaws clenched as he mentally begged her to release them both before his control snapped.

  Fire flashed through her eyes, as she tried to strangle her anger at being denied release. “Fuck you!” She hissed, color high on her cheeks, and her breath coming in jerky puffs.

  Carter chuckled when she pulled him closer instead of pushing him away. “You could rival a houri any day, cara; especially when you look so bellicose,” he muttered, and shrugged out of her hold, drawing a small circle around her entrance with his thumb.

  Her eyes closed, and her lips trembled in anticipation, as she awaited his breach of her fissure, but he only drew a larger sphere.

  “But seriously, Rochelle; it won’t kill you to say it,” he chuckled.

  Rochel
le squeezed her lids together and groaned, fisting her hands in the sheets. Drawing a breath, she looked into his jade-colored eyes, before licking her trembling lips, now willing to beg even harder. “Carter, please; please, take me out of this misery,” she whispered, and his smile widened.

  She sucked in a breath when his fingers sank into her, her fists tightening.

  “You only had to ask, sweetheart,” he stated, as he started another rapid scissor motion that had her raising clear off the bed.

  This time, she was the one who stopped him, by closing her legs to trap his hand.

  He looked at her with a frown as she shook her head.

  “No, Carter; I need you.” He raised his eyebrow, cocking his head to one side as if expecting something else. “Please,” she breathed.

  “That’s my girl.”

  Withdrawing his hand from its overly comfortable position, he quickly divested his clothing, to kneel where his hands had once been. He gripped her hips and flipped her onto her stomach with little effort.

  “This has to be fast, baby,” he grunted, as he took in the dark, throbbing shade, of his penis.

  Arranging her on all fours, he sank the fingers of one hand into her thick head of curls, and positioned himself, before gripping her shoulder with the other. Closing his eyes, he slammed into her, and felt a kaleidoscope of sensations envelope him, as her warm muscles sucked him in, a groan escaping his lips, matching her cry, as he eased back.

  Rochelle bit back another cry at his deep penetration, as he invaded her once more. Her muscles quivered around him from the shock and spike of intense pleasure, when his scrotum slapped against her clitoris. Lost in a miasma she hadn’t anticipated his next thrust. Her palm slapped against the glass of the headboard, with an expletive from her tender lips as she fell off balance.

  Her eyes drew to the material, and her breath caught, as she stared into her wide, wild eyes, in a very clear reflector.

  Chapter Ten

  “Sometimes it isn’t dreaming, but waking up that’s the nightmare.”

  —C.A.G.E. Thompson

  ROCHELLE RELEASED A SHAKY breath, and whined slightly, when Carter withdrew to flop onto his side of the bed, pulling her along into a spoon fashion. He kissed the crown of her head and she sighed, relaxing against the warm flush of the front of his muscular body.

  “A little too rough?” He asked, when he probed her entrance, and she winced once more.

  She frowned in contemplation; her scalp still tingled where he had fisted his hand in her hair, and though she felt a little tender, it had been explosive.

  Pulling away slightly, she turned to look at him. “It was amazing,” she murmured sincerely, as he bent to kiss her forehead.

  Running his palm appreciatively up and down her abdomen, he pulled her closer. “That it was, belle,” he responded, his hand moving up to cup her breasts, causing her to arch into him, her bottom pressing against an already super-hard erection. “So tell me, since it was so pleasurable for you to see yourself orgasm, do you want to try it again?” He chuckled, and Rochelle pulled back shocked.

  “You noticed?” She gasped, looking into his green eyes, that were darkening by the second, heat radiating from every miniscule pore on his body.

  “You exploded around me when you looked into your eyes for the first time. You also used it to watch my every movement in and out of you,” he murmured, flexing his hips against her ass.

  Reaching back, she encircled his length, before running a nail over his tip, removing a bead of moisture. “And you talk about how responsive I am,” she purred, gasping, when he flexed his hips again. Laying a leg over his thigh, she positioned him by placing a hand between her legs.

  She hissed out a breath when Carter pushed up with the rest of his body, whilst his hands pushed her shoulders down, his chest hair tickling her spine.

  He arched his hips as she cried out when he tested his limits. He did it once more, and her hand flew to cup his ass, somehow both willing him to go deeper, but controlling how deep he was.

  Grabbing her hand, he placed it on the pillow before her face, and intertwined it with his so it was immovable. His message was clear: he was the only one in control.

  Easing back, he rammed into her as far as her body would allow him to go, and she cried out once more.

  “You asked for it,” he murmured hotly, against her ear, moving his hips to cram some more of his hot, thick length, into her. She hissed out a shaky breath at the fullness.

  ✽✽✽

  Present day, 2018…

  “May I have your travel documents, please?”

  Rochelle was sucked harshly out of her reverie at the young man’s request. Blinking, she handed him her papers, forgetting how, and when, she had reached the front of the line for the connecting flight. But it didn’t take much for her mind to return to wondering.

  ✽✽✽

  Ten and a half years ago, that blissful joy hadn’t lasted as long as she’d wanted to, because half an hour after Carter had slipped off to go to the office the next morning, her father had called.

  Rochelle groaned, as the ringing of a cell pierced through the thick fog of sleep. She threw out her hand to Carter’s side in a bid to make it stop, when she jerked awake. Carter’s side was empty. Groaning, she pulled her tired limbs into a sitting position and felt a piece of paper poked her back.

  Frowning, she turned and took in the sticky note stuck to the glass of the headboard.

  Just popped into the office for a few hours; hopefully, I’ll exit the building before the manager realizes I’m there to pour his problems on me. X Carter, it read.

  Smiling, she placed a wet kiss on it, and replaced it on the glass, totally forgetting about the phone, until it shrilled louder.

  Throwing back the spread, she went in search of the screaming cell. Spotting it on the chest of drawers, she snatched it up in fear of it giving out its last breath before she could answer it. Without checking the Caller ID, she answered, pressing the phone against her ear. “Rochelle Jones,” she murmured.

  “Where the fuck are you?”

  Rochelle froze momentarily, before shivers began raking her body.

  How long would you have remained asleep in this fantasy bubble? That vile voice questioned.

  Not now… She trailed off mentally. “On my way home, Father,” she whispered, swallowing shakily.

  “You better be at the house before I get there!” He snarled, causing her to flinch as he severed the connection. There was no way she was going to make it to Jamaica from Nevada before her father from Washington.

  Grabbing fresh clothes from her overnight bag collected the previous day, she ran to the bathroom for a record shower to wash away the evidence of his scent. Before half an hour had clocked out, she was on her way to the airport, forgetting to even let Carter know what had transpired.

  In less than thirty minutes, she was at the airport, having booked a ridiculously expensive ticket online, in the taxi.

  Rochelle looked down at the cell in her hand as it vibrated away while the clerk checked over her papers.

  No doubt it was Carter, she mourned internally.

  Ignoring the phone, she collected her passport, and accompanying papers, with a soft thank you, before heading to the departure lounge.

  ✽✽✽

  Carter frowned at the phone before dialing Antwan’s number.

  “Boss.” Came the crisp answer.

  “Where is she?” Carter demanded- his voice harsh from worry.

  “She’s boarding a flight heading to Miami, and then to Kingston,” Antwan stated, before listing her travel details. By the time the bodyguard had rung off, he had even known who she was sitting beside in business class.

  Leaning against the stuffed leather of his executive chair, he placed an elbow on the armrest and cupped his chin in thought.

  There was only one reason she would have left the apartment without saying anything, he thought.

  Reaching for his cell
, he dialed Tyler’s number.

  “Find out who called Rochelle in the last hour before she left,” he stated, ringing off without any greeting or salutation.

  His eyes strayed to the floor-to-ceiling wall-of-glass that gave him a clear view of the Las Vegas city. “Grace,” he murmured into the headset of the once ringing phone.

  “Your lunch meeting with the Japanese is in the next half hour; the car will be downstairs in fifteen minutes, and your grandfather is on line one,” she stated briskly.

  “Thank you, Grace,” he responded, before a long finger reached out to stab the number one on the switchboard. “Grandfather,” he opened warmly.

  “Discarded her already, Chico?” He questioned, or rather, stated.

  “No, Abuelo, she was seemingly bullied into returning home, while I was away conducting business,” he responded, glancing at his cell where Tyler’s message laid open: Percival Jones. “Two days would have never sated the hunger that I have for her,” he stated gravelly, causing the old man to chuckle.

  “Then she’s the one to hold onto, my boy,” he stated, and it was Carter’s turn to laugh.

  “Oh, I’m planning to,” he laughed.

  ✽✽✽

  Thousands of miles away, and finally on dry land hours later, Rochelle looked out the window, agitated as the police siren sounded behind her silver Land Cruiser. She hissed out an annoyed breath, and pulled up the handbrake after easing onto the shoulder of the road.

  Dark green, glossy pumps, slid from the Land Cruiser, followed by endless creamy legs. The officer swallowed when slender fingers clamped the doorjamb, to pull a breath-taking body from the expensive vehicle. The rookie swallowed shakily when his senior partner whistled, and muttered a curse word, a smile spreading across the older man’s lips.

  Rochelle rolled her eyes internally and seethed, as Officer Robinson sauntered towards her with his hand on his gun.

  “You nearly gave me a heart attack last night, Roche,” he muttered sweetly, too sweetly. “I was just checking to see if everything was still attached properly to your dainty body, and to ask you out on a date.”