No, he would keep her wrists tied up. He liked knowing that she was fragile and that her welfare depended entirely on him and his whims. But even more so, he had a feeling that much of her arousal stemmed from being a prisoner to him. Even though he was intent on revenge, he couldn’t bring himself to ruin her fun, especially if it meant more fun for him.
She ran hot, nipping kisses down his chest, her mouth moving lower and lower until it was almost underwater, and Gavin knew what she was offering him. Backing up into shallower water, until his cock sprang free from the water, glistening with a mixture of droplets and his pre-come, her tongue finally found purchase as her lips and mouth opened to take in his fully engorged head.
“Oh god,” he groaned as she licked and sucked at him, taking his shaft deep down her throat. Using the water as leverage, he pumped her mouth back and forth on his cock. She sucked greedily at him, like a baby to a bottle, and his fingers found her wet and plump and ready between her legs. He pushed his fingers in and out of her in the same rhythm that her lips and throat suctioned him.
In what he was sure was his final moment of sanity, he pushed her body away from his with enough force that she was sprawled up on the sandy shore. She lurched towards him, her hands still bound behind her, her eyes unable to see the beautiful mountains surrounding his private lake.
“Please,” she begged. “I’ll give you anything.”
Gavin longed to take her in his arms again, to let her be free and supple and passionate in his arms.
“Shit,” he said, unable to believe that he was about to give up on getting payback, unable to comprehend how one sweet, hot pussy and a pair of incredible tits could sway him from his course.
She fell into the water as she tried to come after him. Gavin came to her aid, scooping her up into his arms again. She was drawn like a magnet to his lips. He could feel her breath on his face as she said, “I’ll tell everyone that I was wrong. I’ll appoint you to any post, give you money, jewels.”
“No,” he growled as her breasts rose and fell against his chest. “I only want this.”
He captured her mouth in an aggressive kiss, knowing he was hurting her, but she came at him with the same intensity. He undid the ties at her wrists and her hands came up and around his back, pulling him to her in the shallow water. He ripped off her blindfold as he mounted her, desperate to see her pupils dilate and contract when her orgasm ripped through her.
With Elizabeth lying in no more than six inches of water, Gavin roughly spread her thighs open with his knees and surged into her, hard and long. Their hips bucked wildly together as Gavin got what he had been longing for, what he knew Elizabeth had wanted from the moment she laid eyes on him in the courtroom. He felt her muscles clench around him, knew that she was going to come, knew that he was about to explode in her tight, hot pussy.
He stilled, and pulled his shaft out of her until just the head rested against her folds. The world stopped spinning as she opened her startling blue eyes, bluer than any lake or cloudless sky, sparkling brighter than any gem ever had, and said, “I’m sorry, Gavin.”
With a groan, he seized her mouth again and slowly slid into her snug canal, relishing the feel of her warmth as it surrounded him, knowing that nothing else would ever compare to this moment.
She cried out and as she milked him, her inner muscles strong and pulsating, he pulled away from her lips and bent his head down and bit into her shoulder, tasting her blood on his lips as his ears roared and his cock exploded into her.
They lay panting in the shallow water, his body covering hers. Elizabeth wrapped her arms and legs around him and gave a contented sigh.
What the hell have I just done? Gavin asked himself as he came to. He was lying atop the Queen, having just spilled his seed into her, all plans for revenge gone. And what the hell am I going to do now?
Moving quickly, he pulled away from Elizabeth and stood up. She blinked up at him, her vision coming into focus on him.
“Where are we going?” she asked him as he reached for her hand to pull her up.
Ignoring the way the sunlight played off her supple skin, her golden-red hair, the tips of her huge breasts, he marched towards the house. “You’re going home.”
She pulled back on his hand and tried to dig her heels into the sand. “No.”
He whipped around. “Yes.”
She shook her head. “I don’t want to go back. I want to stay here with you.”
Her mouth had turned down into a pout and Gavin found himself almost feeling sorry for her again. No, he couldn’t let himself fall for her games. She would be the death of both of them if he let her, but especially him. She’d be fine and he’d be the one hanging from the rafters by his nuts.
Ignoring her, he headed inside and picked up the nearest phone. “Come get her, Joe,” he barked. He headed into his bedroom and grabbed a shirt and some pants from his armoire.
When he returned, she was standing, dripping and sandy, in the middle of his living room and it was as if all the fight had gone out of her. He hated to see her like that and felt guilty and mean as he handed her the clothes.
Gruffly, he said, “Put those on. My driver is going to take you back home.”
She put on his clothes and he thought she looked like a little kid playing dress up. Only this time it wasn’t all fun and games.
He didn’t want to touch her again, didn’t trust himself to be within five miles of her and not touch her again, so he was damn glad when he heard the car on the dirt and gravel driveway in front of the house.
He held open the front door for her. “Goodbye, Your Highness.”
He thought she was going to cry for a moment, but then just as quickly the softness was gone. Staring straight ahead, her shoulders straight, she walked past him, through the door, and got into the car.
Gavin told himself he was thankful that she was going to be out of his life forever. And as he arranged to leave the country on the next flight, he worked to convince himself that he was telling the truth.
Chapter Seven
Elizabeth lay in her bathtub, finally, blessedly alone. Ever since she had returned to the castle, she had been bombarded with questions from her guards, from her staff, from her counselor. It seemed that everyone and their dog had been informed of her disappearance.
After five hours of calming everyone down, after five hours of keeping her time with Gavin deep within her like a precious secret, she pled a migraine and retreated to her private quarters.
More than one of her guards had offered to accompany her to her suite, but she had been completely disinterested in their services. For the first time since she had discovered the joy of sex, she found that she could only think of one man.
Gavin Court.
She ran a soapy sponge up her legs and thought back to the pain that had pierced her after Gavin threw her out of his cabin, out of his life. Forever.
“Go home,” he had said and so, trying to salvage what was left of her pride, she got into the car without a backwards glance.
After what seemed like an endless drive, where she was sure that Gavin’s driver was going in circles, he had pulled over near what looked to be an abandoned red barn.
“This is your stop, Your Highness,” the man said, his voice lacking any inflection whatsoever.
Her head held high, she opened the door and stepped out of the car as if she were stepping out of her carriage for a royal gala. She had barely been able to keep her lips and teeth clenched together, she had been so desperate to ask questions about Gavin, so desperate to beg Joe to take her back to the only man who had ever looked into her eyes and truly seen her. Instead she held onto the last vestiges of her self-respect and said nothing.
A farmer emerged several minutes later and recognized her as the missing Queen. He called the palace and her guards came in a long black limo. More than she had ever wanted anything before, she wanted to find Gavin’s cottage, to get down on her knees and beg him to love her. What she fel
t in his arms, what she saw in his eyes, was unlike anything she had ever known.
Being with him as an equal was even more potent than being in control of her kingdom.
Pleasuring him was far more wonderful than wielding her power over anyone and everyone.
But she was the Queen and she knew what was expected of her, so she schooled her expression into one of superiority and confidence and held it that way until she felt that her face would crack under the strain.
Now, as the water in her bath grew cool, she ran her fingers down the swell of her breasts and cupped them, remembering how reverently, how single-mindedly Gavin had caressed them. Even when he was trying to punish her for locking him up in the stockade, she felt beautiful and amazing and perfect to him.
She lightly touched the mark on her shoulder that he had made on her as he came, and wished that it would never heal over, that she could have some visual reminder of him for always.
As she ran the soapy cloth between her legs, a tear escaped her and rolled slowly down her face. She threw down the cloth and dried off, too tired to masturbate, too depressed by her future, by a future without Gavin, to do anything more than take two sleeping pills and fall into bed.
Her dreams were colorful and wonderful as Gavin made love to her again and again in a field of wildflowers, and then terrible and painful, as he was taken from her and beaten while she watched him suffer, unable to help him.
She woke feverish and damp, her whole body shivering.
“I need to find him,” she whispered in the dark cold bedroom. “I can’t live without him.”
The next morning she gave instructions to her guards to find Gavin, no matter what the cost. She made it clear that they were to treat him well, to bring him to her unharmed, or they would face dire consequences.
But she hadn’t moved fast enough. All traces of Gavin Court were gone. He had left the country, moved his business, his home, everything. After a month, Elizabeth finally called off the search.
It was over. He was gone.
* * * * *
Gavin had settled in Paris and was back to business in less than twenty-four hours. He worked tirelessly at his investment strategies, grabbing an hour or two of sleep when he absolutely needed it, and eating only because Joe brought him food.
His bank account grew by leaps and bounds, but still, he couldn’t deny that something was missing.
Namely, his heart.
Even though four weeks had passed since his time with the Queen—twenty-eight endless torturous days turning into night—he had been unable to erase her from his memory. He swore he could taste her on his lips, that the sky was the color of her eyes, the sunset the exact shade of her nipples. At night he woke in the throes of wet, hot dreams, hard and throbbing, aching for her flesh to surround him.
It was no use. No matter how he tried to convince himself that he hadn’t fallen for her, he had.
He showered and finally shaved off the beard he had been growing since he had watched Joe drive her away from him.
Joe looked up from his computer in the front room. “You finally come to your senses?”
Gavin grinned, the expression unfamiliar on his face after a month of scowling. “Yup.”
“Say hi to her for me,” his trusted assistant said as he turned back to his computer.
Gavin felt a renewed spring in his step as he got ready to head back to Magonia to break into the Queen’s castle. Again.
* * * * *
Upon waking, Elizabeth decided that she had indulged her heartbreak long enough. It was time to get back to her normal routine, to the perfect order of her world before Gavin had stood up in her courtroom and sent her spinning off into a crazy, selfish whirl. And she knew just the thing that would get her back on track.
She had avoided her sexual game room ever since her return to the castle, and as she put her hand on the lever by the side of the fireplace, she felt slightly sick to her stomach. She had arranged for two of her men to meet her in ten minutes for a revival of their usual fuck-sessions—two of her guards had quit in the past month, in fact, due to her unusual celibacy since her kidnapping.
Elizabeth forced herself to walk into the room and to take off her clothes. Lying back on the ancient rack, trying to force away her memories of Gavin touching her, of Gavin taunting her, of Gavin loving her with a desperation that matched her own, she tied the blindfold over her eyes.
But she was no match for her memories. She wished she could go back to the day when he escaped from the prison, when he showed her what true passion felt like. She wished she could feel his tongue lap at her lips one more time. She wished she could explain to him why she did the things she did. But most of all, she wished she could force him to accept her apology, so that he would love her.
She could hardly bear the thought of her guards touching her, but she didn’t know any other way to ease the ache, the hole in her body and heart that Gavin had left her with.
As the minutes crept by, her anxiety rose. She couldn’t go through with it, she decided, and was about to get up off the rack and get on with her miserable day, when she heard a door open. But not the usual door.
The secret door.
Her heart racing, she lay back on the rack. He had come for her. Everything was going to be all right.
Her nipples puckered as she waited for Gavin to approach her, to touch her as only he could.
“The straps are on the table,” she said and within seconds her wrists and ankles were spread and tied to the four corners of the rack. Gavin blew lightly on her breasts and the skin across them grew impossibly tight.
“Am I hurting you?” he said, his voice gentle and easy.
Elizabeth smiled, enjoying their game more than she had enjoyed anything since Gavin had plunged his huge cock into her in the lake a month ago. “Who are you?” she asked, breathy with excitement.
Instead of answering her, Gavin’s tongue lapped in long, firm strokes from her anus to her clit again and again. Elizabeth grew slick and engorged with wanting him, her hungry flesh desperate for his cock.
On the verge of release, Gavin removed his hot mouth from her mons. Her whimpers of need were drowned out by his mouth on hers, licking and sucking at her lips, filling her with her own taste and scent.
Still kissing her, he took off her blindfold.
“I am,” he said softly as he looked deep into her eyes, seeing all the way down into her very soul, “the man who loves you.”
“I love you, too,” she whispered before his mouth claimed hers again and took her breath away.
Cupping her butt cheeks with his large, rough hands, he straddled her hips and positioned the head of his swollen cock between her spread thighs. Bending his head down, he suckled her nipples softly as he slid in an inch, then two, then harder and harder as he impaled her with his full, hard length.
And as she came beneath him in their new private game room, the Queen finally got exactly what she wanted.
THE END
About the author:
Before plunging wholeheartedly into writing erotic romance, Bella got a BA in Economics at Stanford University, worked as a marketing director, and strutted hundreds of stages as a rock star. She currently lives in Northern California with her fabulous husband, who thinks his wife is cooler than his friends’ wives, because she writes romantica.
Bella welcomes mail from readers. You can write to her c/o Ellora’s Cave Publishing at P.O. Box 787, Hudson, Ohio 44236-0787.
Also by Bella Andre:
Authors In Ecstasy
Passionate Hearts
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