Hunting Beauty

by Madison Faye

  “Where the hell have you been?” I murmured, feeling like I was under a spell.

  Her brow wrinkled, her lips curling slightly

  “I’m not sure what you mean,” she whispered.

  “Where the hell have you been all my damn life?” I murmured.

  She smiled shyly.

  “Tell me your name.”

  She bit her lip, her hands tightening on the thin dress barely covering her nude body.

  “That’s a bit forward.”

  I raised a brow. “Forward? No, forward would be telling you you’re the most gorgeous creature I’ve ever seen. That you’re an angel. That you’ve put a spell on me, and now I can’t seem to look away.”

  She blushed, the pink blooming on her porcelain cheeks as she grinned.

  I stepped closer, and she gasped.

  “Forward, would be telling you I want to run my tongue over every inch of you until you’re begging me to stop.”

  She gasped, loudly, her face bright red. I grinned.

  Good.

  Let this little wood nymph get all flustered by me. And I could tell it wasn’t flustered in a bad way. Not in the way her cheeks glowed, and the way her hands tightened on that dress. The way her nipples poked through it.

  “So you won’t tell me your name.”

  She shook her head, her eyes never leaving mine, her breath coming in pants as I moved forward.

  “What if I made it worth your while?”

  She whimpered.

  Fuck.

  My cock grew another fucking half inch, if that was even possible at this point.

  “Worth my while?”

  “A trade,” I grinned. My hand moved towards her, and I watched her hesitate for one second, a shiver running through her body. I paused, but when her brow wrinkled, and when her hips subtly arched towards me, I knew she craved it as much as I did.

  My hand continued, until fingers brushed her bare, warm hip.

  I groaned.

  I could have grabbed her right there, spread those legs, and taken her right then. Fuck, I almost did, but this little dance was too much fun. The slow tease, the waiting until this little angel was begging me to take her. I didn’t know who the fuck she was out here — some farmer’s daughter? Just a weekend hiker? We were barely within the boundaries of King Lorne’s kingdom of Berne — wild territory, near where the insurgents were in hiding.

  I liked that she was out here — unbridled, dangerous; a wild streak I wanted to tame.

  I moved closer.

  “And how will you make it worth my while?” she asked coyly.

  “Angel,” I murmured, making her gasp as my lisp barely moved against her ear. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

  She gaped, her body arching towards me

  “I—”

  “I could start with this.”

  My lips found her neck, brushing the skin. She whimpered, and when my mouth fastened there, my tongue teasing her soft, tender skin, she moaned quietly.

  “How about now?”

  “I— I’m not sure.”

  My hand found her dress, and I pulled it. She gasped as I tore it from her hands, but she didn’t resist either, and she didn’t run. She shivered, a little moan on her lips as her body was bared to me again.

  I groaned, moving right against her. Her breasts pressed into my bare chest, nipples teasing over my skin as she moaned lowly. My hand slid over her waist, moving to cup that perfect, soft ass.

  “I— we should stop this,” she whimpered.

  “Should we?” I growled. “Says the bad little girl standing around naked in my woods?”

  She moaned. “Your woods? No, they belong to King Lorne.”

  “Under my watch though.”

  “And I wasn’t naked, I was changing.”

  “And yet here you are.”

  My hand kneaded her skin as I brought my lips to hers.

  “Tell me your name.”

  “Uh-uh.” She shook her head “I—”

  She moaned as I kissed her, hard. My tongue pressed in, seeking her as I parted her lips with mine. She whimpered, her tongue eagerly sliding over mine. I groaned as I pulled her tight little body against mine, my cock throbbing like hot iron against her bare pussy, threatening to tear its way out of my pants.

  My hand on her ass moved lower, centering. She gasped, panting hard as my hand slipped between her thighs from behind, moving until I could feel the slick, wet lips of her cunt.

  “We can’t—!” she gasped.

  “Can’t we?” I suddenly froze. “How old are you?”

  “Eighteen,” she breathed.

  I groaned as my finger pushed against her opening, and she stiffened, whimpering.

  “Tell me your name.”

  “I— I can’t.”

  “And why not?”

  She shook her head. “I just—”

  “Adele!”

  The voice cut through the woods from behind her, and we broth froze.

  “Adele, where are you?”

  Her yes darted to mine, pleading, as if asking me to stay silent.

  “I’m here!” She said quickly, her voice shaking as she called over her shoulder. Her eyes never left mine.

  I pushed my finger in deeper, watching her jaw drop and her eyes go wider.

  “Are you changed yet?” the other girl’s voice called.

  “One second!”

  “Okay, hurry up, we have to leave soon!”

  “Okay, one—”

  She moaned quietly as my my finger slipped over her hard little clit.

  “One second,” her voice trembled, her eyes darting over mine,

  “I have to to go,” she husked.

  “Where can I find you?”

  There was no way I was letting her get away like this. Not a chance unless I knew specifically where to find her.

  “You can’t,” she whispered.

  “I will,” I growled.

  She bit her lip. “You say that, but you won’t.”

  “Adele, huh?”

  She nodded.

  “Adele, let’s go!”

  “Okay!” she called over her shoulder, her eyes still locked on mine. “I— I really do have to go.”

  “I will find you if you leave,” I said, my voice a low growl and my pulse roaring in my veins.

  There was a loud sigh from her friend somewhere back in the trees.

  “Adele White, we are going to be late!”

  The world went still, and my gut dropped. With my lips by her ear, and my fingers still on her pussy, the whole fucking world stopped. And slowly, it all clicked into place.

  Adele White.

  As in, Princess Adele White.

  Also known as King Lorne’s daughter.

  Holy fuck.

  In a daze, I pulled back, my hands leaving her sweet, untouched body — her completely untouchable, off limits, eighteen year old body.

  Oh. Shit.

  “I—I’m sorry,” she whispered. “It was nice to meet you, Damon.”

  I nodded, dumbstruck. Because here I was a Captain in the Royal Guard of Berne, and I’d just had my King’s daughter naked in my arms, her lips on mine, with my fingers buried deep in her virgin pussy.

  I was a dead man, I just wasn’t in the ground yet.

  She slipped away. I watched in a daze as she pulled the dress over her body, hiding that piece of art and perfection from me as she tugged it over her head. She turned back to me.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  I just nodded, like a complete jackass, watching as she turned and scampered away, leaving me empty.

  But I’d had a taste. And now? Well now I was hooked, and princess or not, I would be finding her.

  Because I had to have more.

  Chapter 3

  Adele

  My whole body tingled. My heart pounded a million miles an hour, every nerve ending in my body on fire as the chauffeured off-road jeep we’d chartered for the hike carried us back to the pal
ace. I was sitting right next to Anya, with a driver and a guard up front, a jeep behind us with four armed guards, and another ahead with the same. And yet, I felt alone.

  I felt like I was back there in that clearing in the woods, my back to a tree and him standing in front of me, taking me.

  Damon.

  I shivered at the thought of his name, imagining his hands moving over me. I imagined him pinning me to the tree, his lips and his mouth tasting every inch of me in ways I’d never experienced.

  I blushed quickly, suddenly very much reminded that I was panty-less under my sundress.

  “Hey.”

  I glanced up to see Anya glancing at me with a funny look.

  “You okay?”

  I swallowed.

  “Yep, fine.”

  “You look a little crazy right now.”

  I shrugged. “Nope, I’m fine.”

  She eyed me but said nothing.

  “Hey, thanks for taking me out here today,” I said quickly, changing the subject. “I needed to get out.”

  “Hey, that's what I’m here for.” She grinned before she glanced at her watch. “Well that and making sure we get to your dress fitting on time.”

  “Oh, we’ll be fine,” I said aimlessly. I was having a hard time concentrating on anything, my mind still right back there with Damon.

  He knew. There at the end when Anya had called my name, I’d watched him put it together. I’d let him come close. I’d shivered and moaned when he’d put his hands on me. I’d felt my heart jump out of my chest when he’d kissed me.

  Because he was everything I’d ever fantasized about. It was like the hunky hero from a romance book had stepped out of the trees and demanded my submission, and I’d been so ready to give it. God, I’d have given him everything back there, if he’d asked.

  Or taken.

  I shivered again, squeezing my legs together under the sundress.

  But then Anya had called my name, and I saw him realize who I was. And then I’d run from the man of my actual dreams.

  I sighed.

  Anya poked me, getting my attention again. “Oh, we’ll be fine, huh?” she grinned. “Says the girl who doesn’t actually want to go to this fitting.”

  I forced a laugh, trying to push the thoughts of Damon’s fingers touching my pussy - the first time a man had touched me there ever — out of my head.

  “Relax. If we’re late, I’ll tell everyone I was having you wash my feet or fetch me wine or something.”

  “Yeah, watch it, Princess,” she tossed back as we both grinned.

  Her being my “servant” was kind of a running joke between us.

  “You sure you can’t come to this ball with me?”

  She laughed. “Hey, you’ll have fun with your cousins. Plus, I’m not actual royalty,” she rolled her “R” with a dramatic flourish.

  “Ugh, I know. Lucky. What are you going to do instead?”

  Her cheeks flushed, and she quickly turned to look out the window of the car.

  My brow arched. “Oh, now this seems juicy.”

  “Oh, it’s nothing,” she waved me off. “Just this party I got invited to.”

  “By?”

  “Hmm?”

  I sighed. “By whom. Who invited you to a party?”

  She kept her face turned, but I could see the pink blush there on her cheeks.

  “It’s nothing, Adele, honestly. Just this random invite to this random thing in town.”

  “Someone’s house?”

  “No, it’s this club—” She turned back, her lips pursed with a tight grin. “You ask a lot of questions.”

  I laughed. “Whatever it is, take me with you.”

  “Sorry girl, no can do.” She gave me sympathetic look. “The hardships of being a princess, I guess. But hey, there’ll probably be lots of hot prince-types at the ball.”

  And none of them Damon.

  None of them so rawly masculine, so gruff, so damn sexy in that panty-melting way.

  But he knew who I was. He knew now that he’d put his hands all over King Lorne’s virgin daughter. If he wasn’t fleeing the country by now, there was no way I’d ever see him again.

  If only I knew how wrong I was.

  Chapter 4

  Damon

  After that day, I was done. Everything I thought I knew? Yeah, forget it. I’d walked into the wrong woods. I’d locked eyes with, gotten too close to, and put my hands all over the wrong girl. And now I was fuckin’ cursed. Because I was damned either way.

  Princess Adele.

  I’d ask myself how the fuck I hadn’t recognized her, but it’s not like I’d have immediately realized the gorgeous, curvy, naked vixen in the woods was the damned Princess of the whole country.

  Yeah the lack of crown — that’s how I’d not recognized her.

  I could have rolled my eyes.

  Touching her had been wrong, but she hadn’t screamed. She hadn’t run away. Hell, she’d moaned when I’d put my hands on her. She’s opened her mouth for me. She’d willingly spread her legs for me, whimpering as I’d stroked my finger up and down her sweet, soft, untouched pussy.

  But that was something that’d never be. Not her, and not with me. Not with some grunt from the service. Oh, I was a Captain?

  What a joke.

  The rank was well and good when you were at my level. But for someone at her level? No, for her, a captain didn’t mean shit. I wasn’t a prince, or a king, or duke or fuckin lord, or whatever.

  Except, I’d had a taste, and I wasn’t quite sure how I’d function without the girl who’d wrecked who I was in one damn second.

  It’d been three years since the divorce. Well, divorce is a funny word when you can barely call what it was before a marriage. Shana married me thinking I was going to go into politics, like my father and his father, who’d been members of parliament and respected heads of local houses — the works. That shit wasn’t for me though, and I’d told her that from the start.

  Some women just don’t listen though.

  I’d joined the Royal Guard because I’d wanted to make a difference. Back then when I’d first enlisted, Berne wasn’t at war or anything, but the guard also acted as disaster relief, and helped with state building projects. We did go to battle, though. With all the turmoil in the middle east, and after the heads of the armed forces signed a unanimous letter to King Lorne, we’d volunteered for duty in Afghanistan. Berne was a country that mostly kept to itself of course, being so small. But tyranny is tyranny, and I was proud to have served in that desert hell.

  Shit, I was glad to go.

  Shana’d thrown a fit when I enlisted. When she found out where I was going, she’d been livid. I didn’t leave for war on a happy note, let’s say that. But I thought I’d loved her, so I’d tried to make it work. I’d called a lot when I was overseas, wrote every day, all of it.

  I even surprised her with an early trip home, skipping the last month of duty to make it home and try and work things out with the woman I’d once loved enough to marry.

  The surprise was on me, though, when I’d walked in on her on her hands and knees in our bed with our neighbor, balls deep inside of her.

  Yeah, that’d sucked, even if “balls deep” wasn’t exactly saying much with that douche.

  Another man might have made a scene. Or killed even. Me? I just decided I was done. That was it; case closed. I’d ignored her yells and shrieks, grabbed whatever shit of mine I could fit into a bag, and left.

  End of scene.

  And honestly, I was happier after that.

  There wasn’t the constant nagging to be something I wasn’t. The ink was dry on the divorce a week later, and after that, I threw everything I had into the guard. I moved rank fast, because, well, I didn’t really do anything else. I was still living in the city, but I spent every weekend working on the house on ten acres I’d bought out in the woods, building it from the ground up with my own two hands.

  Soon after, of course, the insurgency had
started — separatists from a rogue political party within Berne that wanted to secede from the country. That was one thing, but when they’d started raiding farmlands and trying to plant bombs on busses, it was time to act, and the guard stepped in.

  We had them out in the woods now, basically confined to the hills on the very edge of the country borders, which is where I’d been that day. We were camped out near the base of the hills, and since I was always good for a long hike through the woods, I’d told my junior patrolman I’d take his shift for a long patrol south of camp.

  It was hot as fuck that day, and it wasn’t long until the heat of the forest and the sun coming through the trees had me soaking with sweat. I’d stripped my shirt off, cause I could.

  That was the beauty of rank.

  I also knew about a mountain spring a few clicks away that no one knew about, which is where I’d been going when, well, when my life had changed. When I’d bumped into my porcelain skinned, dark-haired goddess. With lips like red blood and eyes like blue diamonds.

  The perfect swell of her breasts, the rosy pink of her nipples, the sweet curve of her hips, and the honeyed opening between them.

  Fuck.

  The Princess of Berne. That’s who’s she was.

  And I’d fucking fingered her. If she told anyone, I was dead — literally dead. She was so off limits, and shit, so much younger. I mean Jesus, eighteen to my thirty-five was all sorts of wrong, and I knew it.

  A lesser man might have thought seriously of deserting, and running from Berne after what’d happened today. But fuck that. I’d barely made it back to camp before my mind was set.

  Run away from the girl of my dreams?

  Run away from the woman I’d been in love with in my head before I’d even ever met her?

  Not a chance.

  Damn the consequences. I hadn’t fought in a war, and then fought insurgency back home to be a pussy. I hadn’t ranked up the fastest in Berne Royal Guard history to run away from something I wanted.

  If there were consequences to the insanity in my head — and I had no doubt there would be — then so be it. Running from this, and running from her? I’d never be able to live with myself. Because I’d seen what I wanted in life. I’d seen the woman who’d be mine.