Prince of Pleasure

by Mandy M. Roth

  No. Not a wall, she thought, her mind racing.

  Wings.

  She gasped, stunned she’d been successful to such a degree. Not only that, seeing them again in the flesh meant she’d not been crazy, she’d not hallucinated or allowed an overactive imagination to guide her.

  They were real.

  She had thought she’d obtain grainy photos of something birdman-like moving far off in the distance. But here they were; birdmen, up close and personal.

  Birdmen with huge black wings that were wider than the men were tall. It took her a second to catch up with what was happening and who the men were. She’d been expecting something more bird-like and less guys-who-live-at-the-gym types, but she’d take anything. “You’re them!”

  “Sure, wench,” one said snidely, his accent thicker than the other. “I will be whatever you want me to be.”

  “Grab her!” the other shouted.

  The man seized hold of her arm roughly and discomfort found her quickly.

  “Ouch! I only want a picture,” she said, the ground suddenly moving out from under her. Lucy’s camera dropped free of her grasp and crashed to the unforgiving ground with a sickening thud that echoed deep in her chest. That camera had cost her nearly six months’ worth of tips, and she’d been so excited when she’d bought it two years back. Now it was in pieces, appearing to get farther and farther from her.

  No. It’s not moving, she thought. I am.

  For a split second, she didn’t understand what was happening. When the realization hit her, she was pretty sure she screamed, yet she couldn’t hear a sound as she was whisked high into the skies by the very birdmen she’d wanted picture proof of.

  Her thoughts didn’t instantly go to panic or even elation that her adoptive caregivers had been right, as had she. Her focus settled on one undeniable fact.

  “Holy crap! You’re real and you’re douchebags!”

  Chapter Two

  Accipitridae Realm

  Prince Rossi lounged lazily on the mounds of pillows and fine linens, one leg propped upon a golden, overstuffed pillow, leaving him lying in a rather suggestive manner on the floor. He wore nothing more than his boots and trews, and his cock was already hard and wanting free from its material restraints. He was in need of release. His balls were tight and full, and his body was sore from a day spent conditioning in the training yard.

  It was important to him and all males of his race that they keep their bodies in peak physical state. Each male was a honed fighting machine, bred from long bloodlines of brave and powerful warriors. The women of his kind were different. They were not normally warriors. They were also low in numbers.

  Bird shifters were not weak. Each of them had a place in their society and was expected to contribute. The elderly of their race, who were rare as aging happened so slowly for their kind, were treated with great respect and cared for, wanting for nothing as they enjoyed their later cycles. The young were raised by their parents, but the villagers and townspeople came together to help as well.

  Even he had to admit that despite his aversion to mating, he was pleased to see his kingdom had slowly started to see an increase in the birth rate. Their population had fallen dangerously low. Once, they’d been great in numbers, but those numbers had dwindled and the kingdom, and the realm for that matter, had seen a dramatic decrease in new births.

  Much had changed in recent times, though—for the better.

  A fledgling did not dare to disobey their mother’s rules when far from her line of sight, for the other women in the village would be sure to set the child in his place and then take him to his mother so that she may know of the wrong that was done.

  His people were so different from the humans who seemed to be steadily invading the kingdom—one mating ceremony at a time.

  He shuddered.

  Mating and humans.

  What could be worse?

  Surely, there was no fate so grave as to compare to being shackled to a human mate for all eternity. The very thought nearly sent him spiraling into a frenzy. Yet, one of his brothers had done so, as had a man so close a friend that Rossi thought of him as a brother. Kabril and Sachin had taken humans for mates. Or rather, those strange bird gods who so many prayed to had deemed the two sets matches. Rossi flinched at the idea the meddlesome gods would get to him eventually. They’d been going in order of birth to date, so he felt confident they would not bother with him for some time yet.

  At least Aeson, another of his brothers, had managed to find a woman who had some of the blood of their people in her veins.

  Habit left Rossi reaching behind him slightly, his hand meeting with the cool metal of his sword. It was nestled carefully behind him, close to his body and easy to snatch hold of, should the need arise. And with the current state of the realm, one never knew when that moment might be.

  The kingdom sat perched on the edge of all-out war. In recent weeks, Lazar, a trusted guard and advisor to the kingdom of Hawks—who also happened to be the rightful heir to the throne of the hawks’ sworn enemy—had claimed his mate and made it known that he would rise to the throne regardless what obstacles lay in his path, moving one step closer to going for what he’d been born to rule.

  Rossi liked Lazar, despite Lazar being of the falcon’s lines. The man was strong and brave, and he would one day make a great leader—perhaps even helping to bring peace between the rival kingdoms. Before that day could come, the current king of the falcons, rumored to be in the throes of madness, gripped by the stirring of the twisted, would need to be removed from power. While he steadily lost favor with his people, he still had enough pull to retain his throne, and for now was ruling his kingdom with fear and extreme aggression.

  Rossi could not imagine such a fate for the people of the hawks. They had always trusted in his family’s rule of their kingdom. None in his line had ever betrayed their own—or set their armies upon their own kind.

  Unlike the king of the falcons.

  Rossi tried to clear his mind of thoughts of war as he looked to the private entertainment he’d called for earlier in the evening. His cock twitched as he watched the women who filled the room dance and caress one another. They wore the customary garb of the women of the harems. Thin material covered their sex and their breasts. He could easily make out their nipples and he smiled as one of the woman began running her hands over another’s breasts.

  These women had seen to his needs many times over the last several cycles. They knew his likes in the bedchamber and knew the level of kink he desired. He smiled, thinking on his last visit to the human realm. He’d had a memorable encounter there, in a club that catered to fantasies. There, Rossi had watched a group of women pleasuring a man. He found he liked watching others copulate. It turned him on, lighting a fire in his groin so that when he did seek out personal pleasure, he often came hard and fierce.

  He wanted such an experience now. He wanted to watch these women being taken by another man before he joined in, fucking one senseless.

  His wants were somewhat perverse, but he cared not. He clicked his fingers, gaining the attention of the women. “Dance.”

  They shared a look with one another and some giggled as they began to do as they were bid. Rossi ran his hand over his leather-covered cock and found he was not as enraptured with their actions as he’d once been. Still, he permitted them to carry on, his thoughts drifting back to the coming war.

  So much had happened in the last few full cycles, or years as he often heard humans refer to them, that it was simply a matter of time before war was declared and the small confrontations occurring on the borders between the kingdoms turned into full-scale battles.

  Even the vultures were daring to show their faces within the boundaries of the hawks’ and the falcons’ lands. They were friend to none, enemy to all in the realm.

  Sighing, Rossi continued to stroke his cock through his trews. Soon, he would order the women to service him so that several of the females could take turns suckin
g his cock. The idea of such acts had, at one point, left him near spilling his seed. No more. Now, the acts seemed to take longer and longer to bring him pleasure, and even that pleasure was not as great as he hoped it would be.

  He watched as handmaidens danced in a circle in the center of the room, each trying to catch and keep his gaze upon them. Demanding wenches, if he did say so himself. They no longer had the attentions of the king, so they were particularly giving in the needs and wants of those in positions of power.

  Such as Rossi.

  They would suck him for hours and hours if he called for it. They would do whatever he wished of them. Harems were commonplace through the entire realm. Some even operated from taverns, giving pleasure to passing warriors.

  He was sure most of them had hopes they’d end up mating a man of means. While they were well cared for and wanted for nothing, it seemed a fantasy of most young women to want to mate.

  Women.

  He never quite understood why they’d want only one man for the rest of their lives. It made little sense to him. If unmated, they could bed any unmated male whose eye they caught. He knew how to please a woman in bed, but out of it, he found them strange creatures. He would never permit himself to be tied to one woman.

  Never.

  His brother, the king, had disbanded the official harem several years back when he’d taken a mate, but an unofficial one remained in place for the unmated males of the race who resided within the castle walls. As youngest son in the Hawk Royal Family, Rossi had no plans to take a mate anytime soon. He wanted to sow his wild oats, fuck, and be merry. There would be time for mating later, when he had even more full cycles beneath his belt. He was young yet, as far as bird shifters were concerned.

  Once he’d selected a wife, his king of a brother appeared to forget what life had been like as a single, unmated male. Now all that fell from his brother’s mouth was how much the man loved his wife, how only one woman would do for him, how no others compared.

  Nonsense.

  Drivel.

  He shuddered at the idea of commitment.

  Of family.

  Of actual responsibility.

  The idea of any sort of permanent time restriction held little appeal to him. As it stood, he could come and go as he pleased and enjoy life to the fullest. He filled in to help oversee the duties of king only when absolutely necessary and only because his other brothers had no interest in the position. Growing up, Rossi often wondered if even Kabril had interest in the throne. All the boys had seen the toll the throne took upon their father. None had been eager or power hungry.

  He envied Keonae, his brother who no longer resided within the realm. As always, he did what he pleased and answered to no one. He was hardheaded and refused to conform to what was expected of him. For all Rossi’s protests and pleas to be given less responsibility as he was not truly needed, he still assured his royal duties were seen to. Keonae cared not for those, either.

  Ah, to be so free. So unconcerned with duties.

  Rossi could only dream.

  One of the females danced closer to Rossi, her breasts jiggling under the thin material she wore. He reached up and squeezed one. Her nipple hardened in his hand. Her tongue darted out and over her lips, and he knew she’d do as he commanded. Most unmated females did. He’d bedded this one before, many times, though he couldn’t recall her name. He wasn’t sure he’d ever bothered to ask it. She fit nicely around his body and liked it rough, something he enjoyed as well.

  But, alas, his body did not seem to want a repeat performance. Surely he was broken. There could be no other explanation for it. Mayhap the moons’ pull was growing, causing his body to respond in strange ways, bringing on him the stirrings of madness.

  Chapter Three

  Lucy swatted at the man holding her, going for his face, his eyes, any part of him she could get. She’d not be a statistic—if there even was a statistic for women abducted by creatures no one believed were real. She wouldn’t be some story retold on low-budget shows broadcast on cable networks no one had heard of.

  No way.

  No how.

  “Let go of me!” she shouted.

  The man holding her laughed. “If you so wish.”

  He loosened his hold on her and she began to fall free from the protection of his embrace. A shrill cry tore from her and she clawed at him, seizing hold of him around the waist, catching herself before she would have fallen to her death. At their height from the ground, there would have been no way she could have survived. It would have been like skydiving minus the parachute.

  No thank you.

  She wasn’t going out like that. She was going to get her damn proof and live to tell the tale. She hugged the man’s waist tightly, her gaze moving up to the massive expanse of his wings. They were stunning. Too bad the guy they were hooked to was a sociopath. He pulled her higher up his body and she gulped.

  The jerk laughed. “Look, Manyer,” he said. “She wants my cock.”

  Lucy considered kneeing him in the groin—as she suspected males of any species disliked that move—but since he was the reason she wasn’t falling to her death, she resisted. Though the urge remained, Southern hospitality and ladylike behavior be dammed. She wasn’t about to be a victim of a birdman killing.

  They remained high in the sky for what felt like an eternity. She’d lost her stomach somewhere over the dotted tree line hours ago. It was cold that high, and despite her efforts to bundle up, she was not prepared for this.

  Who the hell would be?

  Shivering, she found herself pushing more at the man who had hold of her. She really could not wait to gouge his eyes out. Birdman or not, she’d take a piece of him once her feet were on solid ground.

  She lost feeling in her feet first, and then the bitter cold made its way up her legs and over her torso. Her teeth began to chatter uncontrollably and her fingers froze into their clasped state. It wasn’t long before darkness ebbed at the edges of her vision, and Lucy felt her mind slipping into a cold-induced abyss.

  She vaguely heard one of the men speaking.

  “Is it dead?” he asked.

  “Humans break so easily,” said the one holding her as if she were a mere ragdoll, insignificant in his world of being. “I would release her, but I heard a faint heartbeat. If she survives the portal crossing, we can play with her.”

  Like hell, she thought, drifting off.

  Chapter Four

  The clearing of a throat near the entranceway pulled Rossi from thoughts of taking his cock out of his wrap and ordering it into the female’s mouth. His second-to-the-eldest brother, Aeson, stood in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest and a disapproving look upon his face. A wall sconce illuminated his brother’s face at just the right angle to make Aeson appear sinister when he was anything but.

  Rossi sighed, knowing his fun had come to an end. With a wave of his hand, he motioned away the women. “What now? And please know I tire greatly of your lectures. You have become boring, brother.”

  “Kabril has expressly forbidden harems.” Aeson remained stoic in the entranceway, as if entering the room more might leave him getting harem girl on him and somehow taint him for the rest of his days. While Rossi didn’t see the issue with such a thing, the disgust coming from his brother said Aeson did not share his view. Oh, how the mighty had fallen after mating.

  He is cuckolded by his woman.

  “They are not a harem. They are dancing girls,” corrected Rossi, a mischievous smile slipping over his face. “And after all, that is what they were doing for me. Dancing.”

  Aeson exhaled so loudly it was easy to hear from Rossi’s spot on the floor. His brother was angry. Rossi nearly laughed.

  Once the last of the females was clear of the room, Aeson stormed in, coming right for Rossi. “Changing the name does not win you favor.” Aeson cuffed him behind the ear as if he were still a mere fledging.

  Rossi gave an annoyed look. While he disliked being treated in such a ma
nner, it was something he was used to as youngest brother. No matter what his age was, his brothers would always view him as a fledgling.

  “Tell me, dear, wise brother, what else am I to do with my time?” he asked, refusing to sit up. Instead, he laid back, placed his hands behind his head and stared up at the ceiling. A good deal of care had gone into its creation and Rossi wondered briefly why he’d never noticed it before. “There is no battle in need of me. Nor do I have any duties left to perform today other than fuck. You just interfered with that duty.”

  “Really, Rossi, fucking is hardly expected of you,” breathed Aeson. “Must you behave like a petulant child?”

  Rossi considered sticking his tongue out at his brother, but realized it would only prove Aeson’s charge. “What? Am I mistaken? Is there an attack upon the castle that I am unaware of that demands my attention?”

  “War is close,” warned Aeson. “Do not wish for it to come. You are young and do not fully remember the toll it took upon this kingdom.”

  “I remember,” he said softly.

  “Yet you sound as if you would welcome war again.”

  Rossi sighed. “I would.”

  Aeson stood over him, a bewildered look upon his face. “Why would you say such a thing?”

  “Do you ever feel like you are lost? That you have no direction, and that regardless which way you turn, you will pick the wrong path?” he asked, tilting his head so that he could see his brother better from his position on the floor. He disliked showing any signs of weakness, least of all doing so in front of his brother, but the feelings of despair had begun to eat away at him more and more of late.

  Aeson was quiet for what seemed like a long while. “Have you the stirrings of the mad?”

  The stirrings of the mad had claimed more than one great warrior. Rossi shook his head. “No. Nothing as grave as the stirrings.”