by Amelia Wilde
I’m patting the last few strands into place when there’s a knock on the outer door and it swings open without anyone waiting for an answer. “Good morning,” says a woman’s voice. I’ve never seen her before but she comes into the bathroom brandishing a hair dryer.. “Mr. Prince would like you prepared for the day.”
“I’ve—I’ve already showered and brushed my teeth,” I point out.
“Yes, well, you can’t meet with him with your hair in that state,” she says. She doesn’t give her name, only pulls out the hair tie and sets out a series of tools on the bathroom countertop. This woman, whoever she is, makes quick work of my hair, drying it and pinning it back so it’s not in the way of anything. A shiver runs down my spine. In the way of what? She swipes blush over my cheeks and mascara over my eyelashes, and then steps back to survey me. “Shirt.”
“What?”
She holds out her hand. “Give me your shirt. I’ve already collected the other clothes, but Mr. Prince prefers you naked for this morning’s activities.”
I hesitate, but impatience glows in her eyes.
I think of the belt.
And then I strip off the shirt and hand it over. She doesn’t seem to notice my nakedness, but I feel it—I only had the shirt, and now I have nothing, and now I know he’s coming.
“He’ll be in shortly,” she says to me, and once the door is closed behind her I let out a slightly hysterical laugh. That’s the kind of thing people say at the doctor’s office or the hairdressers, not to a captive. And yet. Here I am, waiting for Mr. Prince.
I don’t know where to wait so I make up the bed and stand in front of it. It’s not cold enough to be uncomfortable but a cool edge to the air makes my nipples peak. Horribly, awfully, thinking about him coming through the door makes me ache in that space between my legs, makes me wet, and in the end I resort to standing with my legs slightly spread so that the evidence won’t be so obvious.
The door opens again before I’m ready.
I jump back into place and he notices the movement, dark eyes flaring. “Did you sleep well, little princess?”
“I—” He narrows his eyes. “Yes.”
“Don’t lie to me.” He stalks across the room and towers over me. “Did you or did you not sleep well?”
“I did,” I admit, and it’s shameful to admit. I slept very well. I slept like the dead, up until the moment I bolted upright and found myself—
Free.
The thought clangs around in my mind, a thousand cymbal crashes, and I blink up at him. It’s like someone has torn a veil from my eyes. All last night, I slept a dreamless sleep while a criminal slept down the hall, or didn’t sleep, it doesn’t matter. What matters is that he brought me here for a reason. And if he’s asking me questions now, then what’s to stop me from asking my own?
“How did you sleep?” I draw myself up to my full height. Never mind the fact that my tits are out on full display, as is the rest of me. What would a queen do in this situation? Not cower, probably. Not fall to the floor. She’d demand information for herself.
Heat flares in his eyes, and the corner of his mouth quirks. In that one movement I see a million possibilities. There is depth to a man who finds amusement in this, and from his expression I’m sure it’s not just a sadistic streak. His dark eyes leave mine for a single instant. “Fine.”
Fear floods my mouth, a bitter adrenaline, but I keep the expression off my face. Thank you, drama class. “I don’t believe you. You—you have smudges under your eyes, and even when you start to smile, you look like—” His expression has gone colder now. “You look like you have something on your mind. How long am I here?”
A rattle of words, one spilling out after another, and for a moment I think he might not answer me at all. His jaw works. Forever, some wild part of me thinks. Say that I’m here forever. “Until tomorrow.”
I suck in an indignant breath, shocked that he’d go to all this trouble for a few days. “Tomorrow? Where am I supposed to go tomorrow? Tell me,” I demand, and I’m careful, so careful, to keep the whine out of my voice. Cinderella would never whine. I’m still playing that part, in a way.
“Are you sure it would help you to know?”
My chest clenches. “No. But I want to know anyway.”
A grin, this one seeming like a disguise to hide something else. Hide what? I don’t know. “Such a brave little princess.”
It’s meant to be a taunt, but I swear, I hear a certain sincerity behind the words. Did something happen to him last night? Does he feel the change in the air, like some massive clock is ticking us toward an inevitable future together. “Tell me. Please.”
He lets out a breath that’s more of a sigh. “It’s very dry material. You’re here as part of a debt settlement.”
“A debt settlement?” Fresh horror trickles down my back. You can’t use people for debt settlement. Who would have done that to me? “Like for a credit-card bill?”
He laughs, and the sound makes my face heat. I resist the urge to drop my head into my hands. “Yes, like a lapsed credit card debt,” he answers, and I feel foolish, childish. “Only on a larger scale. Someone like you—” He glances away, and then I’m certain—absolutely certain—that this isn’t just a game for him.
It’s not a game for me, either.
“Then where am I supposed to go tomorrow?”
“To the devil himself.” He straightens up, and once again his fingers work at his cuffs. This man—Mr. Prince, the evil captor—is methodical when it comes to rolling up his sleeves. I’ve only been here one night but I know what it means to see him do this. It was my first lesson to learn. “Which means, little princess, that you have a choice.”
There’s another shift in the room, so strong that my skin pulls up in goose bumps. It’s like a breeze running its fingers through my hair, only there’s no breeze. “What kind of choice?”
“Me or him.”
The sensation is like being hit with a powerful wave and lifted. Carried back into an open sea, or open space. Disconnected from the world and shoved along a current that I can’t see but I can feel it, and it’s relentless, unforgiving. There’s no going back now. Maybe there was no going back from the moment that woman laid the card in front of my father. “Who is he?”
“The man who’s going to take you in exchange for debt. His name is Hades.”
All along, I thought he was a joke. I’ve heard my father talk to other people in hushed tones about the man in the mountain. I’ve heard him scoff and roll his eyes. But what I didn’t hear, or failed to notice, was that all his bravado was out of fear, not because Hades isn’t real. Oh, god, if this man, if this Mr. Prince is talking about him, then he’s very real. “You mean that? You would take me there tomorrow and—and give me away?”
He shrugs. “The contract has been signed. He doesn’t renegotiate.”
Creeping fear licks at my toes. It’ll keep rising, I know, until it covers my head. “And then what?”
A quirk of his mouth. “Things can always get worse.”
Worse than him.
I can’t fathom it. I’m the few minutes he’s been inside this room, the entire space has been drenched in his power, a dark, crackling power that settles over everything like the night.
The idea that someone worse exists...
“You or him?” My voice wobbles despite my best efforts. “What am I really deciding?”
He’s just standing there, but all of him seems coiled, ready to attack, and I wish he would. I wish he would unleash that lethal energy and do whatever horrible thing is coming next. “Who gets to ruin you.” He glances impatiently toward the window, frosted glass covered by a curtain the same color as the comforter. “Choose him, and I’ll give you to him...untouched. Choose me, and—”
“And you’ll ruin me?”
He laughs, this dark prince, and the sound fills the room, fills the world. “I won’t just ruin you. I’ll destroy you. And you’ll like it.”
The co
nfidence in his voice is the alpha and the omega, the beginning and the end. I’ll like it? My body responds to the words, nipples drawing tighter, heat increasing between my thighs. How can he see the truth at the heart of me, which is that I did like it last night? I liked the feeling of being pinned to his body and under his control. Look at him. How could anyone not be swept away by this tall, dark, and handsome man? He’s cut out of a painting, cut out of history, and I have the sudden sensation that all of this has happened before. Maybe several times.
I feel them now, the ghosts of all the girls I was before. Which is insane. It’s an insane thing to think, and it’s probably just my brain trying to protect itself from the harsh truth.
I’ve never met this man, Hades.
I have met Mr. Prince.
I know the strike of his hand and the feel of his fingers between my legs.
Things can only get worse.
“You,” I say finally, breaking the silence. “On one condition.”
He raises his eyebrows.
“I want to know what your name is.”
Another lift at the corner of his mouth, as if he can’t quite believe I’ve chosen this as my condition. That I’ve chosen him. “Maximus Prince,” he says finally. “My loved ones call me Max.”
Why not? If I’m flying off the edge of this cliff, why not go for broke? “Can I call you that?”
A dark chuckle. “No, little princess. You can’t.” He rubs his hands together, shifting his posture, and now I know the discussion is over. I’ve agreed to his terms.
I’ve agreed to be ruined.
And stupid me, I didn’t even think of what all that might mean.
I have some idea, and the idea terrifies me. I clench my teeth together to keep them from chattering with fear and impatience. It’s like the five minutes before a show begins. The longest five minutes of my life.
Excerpt for right now.
“Ruin me, then.” The moment I give my permission, some of the impatience disappears. There. I’ve committed now, though I have the nagging sense that I was always committed to this whether I knew it or not. “Do it now.”
The dark roll of his laugh makes my heart race. “So impatient, little princess. You haven’t made your final choice.”
“Is there any other choice?” I can feel my pulse in my fingertips, blood cascading through my veins, beating, beating, beating. “What else could I possibly choose? You said—”
“I said I would ruin you, yes, but there are many ways to do it. Where should we start?”
“What do you mean?” The question drops from my lips even as I know it’s a ridiculous one. I know what he means. I’m a virgin, not an idiot. I’ve seen videos and read stories. I’ve heard people talk about sex. I’ve had a few fumbles behind the auditorium. Who hasn’t? But I need him to say it. Some timid part of me, maybe the only timid part that’s left, needs him to say it.
“Mouth, pussy, or ass?” A smile, a broad one, and it’s the first I’ve seen light up his face like this. “We’ll get to all three.”
“Today?” My voice comes out in a squeak. “We’re going to do that today?”
“Tomorrow will be too late.” A casual shrug. “But if you wanted to wait, then we could see what Hades will do to you.”
The threat in his voice is raw and sharp, and there’s a tumbling feeling, like my stomach is falling into the pits of hell. He said ass. He said that. And from the look in his eyes, he meant it.
“Mouth.”
I’m a coward. I’m a little trembling coward, a shy little princess, the worst version of myself.
“Fine.” He strides forward, leaving only a few feet between us. “Then get on your knees.”
7
Maximus
The messages came early this morning. A warning—several warnings. Which means our time is short. Too short for my liking. I’d rather have spent a week with her, wrecking her thoroughly, but today is all we have. At midnight a new day begins.
I won’t wait for the day to die.
My little princess trembles by the bed, thinking that she’s doing a good job of hiding it. The set of her jaw is bolder than I would have thought, but I can see the goose bumps on her skin. I can see the way she shakes in her place, no matter how much she tries to hold still.
The command I’ve given her hangs in the air between us. “Do you need a reminder of how to obey?”
She sinks down to her knees.
“Wider than that.” I keep my tone dismissive, but the truth is—the irritating, inconvenient truth—is that I woke up this morning with a pressure in my chest like the hand of fate. “You’ll fall over when I fuck your throat if you keep your knees pressed together.”
The stolen princess edges her legs apart as if she can possibly hide the wetness gleaming there. Fuck, she likes this. She didn’t contradict me when I told her she would. Well, she won’t like all of it, but there’s a sense of pride in taking one’s pain.
I feel the future bearing down on us, hurtling toward us, as I step forward and undo my pants. Her eyes fly open wide at the sight of me, exposed for the first time to her. She swallows hard.
“Afraid now?”
She hesitates. A shallow nod. At least she’s honest. I take her chin in my hand and force her face up so those blue eyes meet mine. Nowhere to hide, little princess.
“It doesn’t matter. Open your mouth.”
She does.
I told her that this would all happen tomorrow. I told her there would be one more night under my roof.
I lied.
And as the tip of my cock presses against her pretty pink tongue, all memories of the lie fly out of my head. There’s nothing but the soft, slightly rough sensation of her tongue on mine, of her jaw trembling as she struggles to take it all in. Her hands come up on instinct to meet my thighs but I twist a hand into her hair and hold her in place. This is what it means, to be ruined. She can struggle if she wants, she can cry and scream and push away, but it’s not over until I say it’s over.
“Hold still,” I tell her, and by god, her body goes still in front of me, her grip tight on my pants. I’m in her mouth now but it’s not enough. I’m going to take her throat, too. “Open wide, little princess.”
She takes a gasping breath through her nose and that’s when I do it, thrusting in deep, all the way to the back and down. A strangled howl squeezes at my cock as she swallows and swallows, trying her best to stay alive.
It might be hell for her, but it’s heaven for me.
Tears stream down her cheeks and her nails dig in to the flesh of my thighs but she doesn’t pull back. Not a single inch. I pull out long enough to let her get a single breath, and then I’m back in, coaxing her with one hand. I’m speaking, I realize, encouraging her. That’s it, little princess, keep that throat open for my cock.
The sensation overwhelms.
It’s too much, too sensitive, and too tight. No one else has done this, I think in a haze of pleasure and ownership. No one else. I can tell, because if she had even the slightest hint of experience she wouldn’t be working so hard. Wouldn’t be crying so hard. I’m going to spill myself down her throat. Five pumps, and I’m done for.
Embarrassing.
I can’t let that happen.
I fuck her throat for another four lazy strokes before I pull out.
My princess scrambles to her feet, wiping frantically at her mouth, wiping at her tears. She can’t hide them and I don’t want her to. Perhaps she felt like I did this morning, like she was on a train that can’t be stopped, but the pressure is even more intense now. I won’t let it stop. I don’t do a damn thing but ruin her, just like I promised.
I turn her back toward me and she gasps, still panting, still catching her breath.
We don’t have time for that.
I don’t have time for that.
I want all of her, and I want it right now, and it’s all I can do not to throw her on the bed and fuck her senseless without giving her one fina
l choice. “Pussy or ass?”
“Do you want to do this?” she whispers, her words tear-soaked and delicious. “Do you really want to do this to me?”
“Fuck, yes.” I fist my hand in her hair and pull her close, breaking my cardinal rule. I don’t kiss women. I don’t allow myself the pleasure. But now I crush my mouth to hers and claim her in a harsh, licking rush. Why the fuck not? We’re already running out of time. “Yes, I want to do this to you.” The world has been torn open and there’s a kind of naked intimacy here, one that makes my skin feel like it’s on fire. This little princess has no idea that she’s seeing me in the closest thing to a vulnerable state. It’s not like me to admit that I want something.
Ever.
I only take it.
That’s the proof. I break the kiss and growl into her mouth. “Pussy or ass?”
She shivers in my grip, and there’s a drunken, heady moment when I’m really not certain which thing she’ll choose. She’s a brave little princess, and a reckless one, and just when I’m certain she’ll tell me to ruin her hymen first, she whispers, “Ass.”
I let out an animal groan. Who is she? Who is she really? I’m struck by a bolt of desire, so thick and pure that it almost takes me to my knees. I kidnapped her. I tied her up and threw her in the back of my SUV, and then when I got her here, I punished her for it. And now she’s asking me to take her asshole. She chose that.
Jesus Christ.
To unravel this woman, I’ll need more than a single day. I’ll need a thousand nights. A million.
I thrust her away from me. “Bend over the bed.”
It’s a quick walk down the hall to retrieve the lube I’ll need to fit myself into her virgin asshole and a condom for good measure.
I’m not gone thirty seconds.
And when I come back, I’m treated to the sight of a flash of naked flesh, running for the stairs.
