Takedown: An Enemies to Lovers Dark Romance

by Lana Hartley

  The chorus from the audience grows louder above our sexual moans, everyone wondering who will win this game. I have no idea anymore. I’m sore and sated, but Nathan’s relentless, determined to fuck me breathless.

  He flips me over on my hands and knees and has me facing the wall, directly in Vincent’s line of sight from the chair in the corner. Vincent looks impassive, studying us fucking as he sips his favorite wine, his cock still hard. Vincent pours another glass to the rim, his eyes never leaving mine, and I imagine Nathan’s cum filling me up inside just as the ruby red wine has filled up that glass.

  Nathan takes me by surprise and flips me to my back, his hips relentlessly plowing into me and never missing a single thrust inside my tight pussy. “Oh god…” I whimper, and I wrap my arms and legs around Nathan and rake my fingers through his hair as he continues to fuck me. And Vincent stands up and walks over with a glass of wine and dumps it all over my tits. The smell of the wine is a bit rank but in a nice way, and Vincent leans down to lick off my chest, and I really want to know what Nathan’s cum tastes like mixed with the wine.

  “Come…oh god…” My words are lost as the pain washes over me, and I can’t take anymore. I think there might not be an end to this. Vincent goes back over to the chair where the wine is and picks it up and pours another glass. He comes back over and sits on the edge of the bed, sipping his wine as his thumb traces circles around my pebbled nipple. He studies me with a new calm he never has before. My eyes close as exhaustion takes over. I’m very tired and sore and praying for a reprieve from Nathan’s endless fucking. I tug at his hair and cry out. Nathan’s eyes pierce me with a hard, lustful glare as he draws his cock from my pussy and shoots his cum all over my face and tits. I shut my eyes and let the wave of pain, exhaustion, pleasure all wash through me before a cold splash coats my chest. I look up at Vincent swaying panting low and dangling the now empty bottle of wine above my cum-covered tits.

  Nathan rolls to the side, and Vincent spoons against me, wedged between these two princes who are set to be my kings. We all lie there panting, sweaty, exhausted in the best most delicious way.

  “What’s the score?” Nathan actually wonders.

  “I don’t know – guess we’ll have to do it all over again.”

  The audience laughs and cheers.

  Vincent

  I wake up to find myself alone, which I suppose is for the best, if Isadora had any plans for the day. If it were up to me, I don’t think I’d ever want Isadora to leave our bed. I see that Nathan is also an early riser. Not surprising. I should join them, countries unfortunately do not govern themselves, and there are matters of state that I should attend to.

  I rise from bed and head into the shower. As the hot water washes over me, I feel strangely hopefully. Never in a million years did I think this strange alliance would work. God knows I opposed it, but my sweet Isadora is nothing like the spoiled princesses I'd encountered before. She's smart and kind and actually knows how to govern. I didn't think I could fall so easily in love, but I'd be lying if I didn't say that my desire for Isadora is more than physical. I love her, and I think that Nathan may love her as well. When I see him look at Isadora, I don't see the usual guile in his eyes. I think Isadora truly allows him to be himself. I'm not sure that I trust Nathan completely, but if he is in love with Isadora that's best for all of us. If I can't trust him, I can surely trust his love for our wife.

  I step from the shower and wrap a towel around my waist, before walking into the dressing room I now share with Nathan. He's staring into a drawer as if staring is going to make whatever he's looking for to appear. Maybe he’s trying to silently manipulate the drawer into giving up his contents. I don’t bother to hide my chuckle.

  "Lost something?" I ask. I walk to my side of the room and select a navy suit from the closet. I open the other side and start looking for a shirt.

  "My cufflinks, and I see you're finally awake," Nathan replies opening another drawer. "Over exert yourself at the Bedding Ceremony last night."

  His own yawn interrupts the barb. Though there didn’t seem to be any real animosity behind it.

  “Not a bit,” I reply, “but it looks like you might need a nap.”

  "Here they are." Nathan plucks a pair of cufflinks from the corner of the dresser. "I don't have time to sleep. I'm scheduled to have tea with our mother-in -law.”

  "Tea, why?" I ask. I’m instantly on alert. I’m willing to give Nathan the benefit of the doubt, but any meeting with the queen that I'm not attending is suspect, at best.

  Nathan turns and looks at me, considering. I suspect he’s trying to decide if he can slip out of the conversation without answering my question. I give him a stare that clearly says he won’t leave without answering my question. Nathan sighs heavily.

  "The truth?" He asks.

  “I didn’t ask the question because I wanted to hear one your colorful lies.”

  “I prefer the term elegant deceptions,” Nathan replies.

  Nathan is trying my patience. "Why?" I ask again, taking a deep breath as I button my shirt.

  “I think Ileana is up to something?” he says.

  “Up to something?” I say, raising an eyebrow.

  “Yes, I don't know what, but all of this has been too easy. So I arranged to have tea with her, so I can do a bit of investigating.”

  “I'm inclined to agree. Ileana resisted making an alliance for years, and now suddenly she changes her mind. It’s cause for concern, but if you suspect the queen of something, confront her out right.”

  “Do you expect a woman like Ileana to simply tell me she’s planning to usurp the throne?” Nathan says.

  “Of course not. And that’s exactly why I think having tea with her is a waste of time. She isn’t going to tell you anything but because you compliment her.”

  “Oh my particular set of skills consists of far more than compliments. I’ve made many reveal their secrets without realizing what they’ve done.”

  “You think you can charm the queen into a slip of the tongue.” I don't laugh in his face, but it's a near thing, a very near thing. Nathan must sense my disdain for his methods.

  “What would you prefer I do? Twist her arm and demand the truth,” Nathan says.

  “I don't twist arms, but I do prefer a direct approach.”

  “I’ve heard rumors . . . But none the less, your approach only works with an honest opponent.”

  “I’ve found properly applied force works as well on dishonest men as an honest one,” I say.

  “Yes, but more truth can be bought with fondness than fear.”

  Perhaps, for some but it takes time, and time is not always on our side. Persuasion doesn't take time if you master it. And threats lose their power if fear of death isn't behind them.”

  “Who says the threat of death isn’t behind them?”

  Nathan raises an eyebrow. “You can’t kill everyone.”

  “True,” I concede, “but sometimes death is necessary.”

  “Unfortunately that’s true, but if you don't mind, I'm going to refrain from threatening or killing the queen. It would be bad for diplomacy and no doubt get our marriage off on the wrong foot and frankly, upsetting Isadora is the last thing I want,” Nathan says, pulling on his jacket and looking away from me as though he feels he’s said too much.

  I put my shoes on and give myself a quick glance in the mirror. “You love her don’t you?”

  He turns and looks at me. “Is it so obvious?”

  “Yes, but I suspect that’s only because I love her, too. I suppose then we have something in common.”

  “It appears that we do.”

  “And would you happen to know where Isadora is this morning?” I ask.

  “I believe she said something about a calming walk in the gardens. I imagine you'll know where to find her,” Nathan says with a slight smirk.

  “I imagine I will,” I say with a smirk of my own.

  Isadora

  I walk down the g
arden path to the clearing where I first kissed Vincent. The sun is warm across my shoulders, and a light breeze blows through my hair. The feel of my silken strands against my skin reminds me of a lover's touch. I came out to the garden to clear my head. I don’t think it’s going to work. All I can think about is last night and the Bedding Ceremony.

  I sit down on one of the stone benches. It's warmed from the sun, and close my eyes trying to will my mind to think of something else. The problem is I can’t think of anything else except Vincent and Nathan. Here alone in the quiet of the garden with my eyes closed, I can practically feel Vincent's hands and hear Nathan's voice. What kind of woman am I turning into? There was a time when I would have dreaded the thought of having sex with not one but two men in front of the highest ranking members of the court. Now I feel like someone completely different.

  Dread was the furthest thing from mind when the time for the Bedding Ceremony arrived. I was eager, probably more eager than my husbands. I know it's because of Vincent and Nathan. The two of them drive me wild with desire and lust. I open my eyes and look around the lush green gardens. I know it’s more than lust. I’m falling in love with both men, and I believe they’re falling in love with me. It’s how they’ll get along with each other that has me concerned.

  Nathan and Vincent think they're so very different from one another, and on the surface they might be right, but the truth is they're very much alike. I suppose they would argue the point, but I know better. They both want the best for their countries and for me. Neither of them protested the Bedding Ceremony either, because they both certainly like to show off. Not that I blame them. Both my husband’s more than lived up to their legendary reputations, and that ceremony will be spoken of for ages. I feel strangely proud. There's something arousing about the entire court watching you fuck, but it's not just that; it was showing them that both Nathan and Vincent were devoted to my desires, my pleasures, to me. I’ve never felt quite so powerful.

  Nobody in the room could take their eyes off the three of us. Every man he in the audience was hard at the sight of my naked body. I have no doubt that the ladies of the audience grew wet looking at Vincent and Nathan. I mean, my god, it's not every day a woman sees a twelve-inch cock, well unless that woman is me. I'll be seeing two of them daily for the rest of my life. More than seeing, I laugh to myself. Maybe I should give up the idea of getting anything useful done. Maybe I should go back to bed. I know Nathan is having tea with my mother, but perhaps Vincent is still in bed.

  I remember how he looked asleep in our bed. His sculpted body mine for the taking. I think about sliding my hand under my dress, pushing my panties aside, and touching myself right now. I lift one hand up lightly brushing my fingers across my breasts. Through the thin fabric of my dress, I can feel my nipple sharpen. I remember the way Nathan's fingers felt on my body, Vincent’s lips on my skin. I bite my lip and pinch my nipple. I feel my pussy start to get wet. I lower my hand, playing with the hem of my dress. I really should be getting back to the palace, for all I know Vincent and Nathan could be killing each other. Maybe not killing but at the very least they might start arguing if I’m not there. That’s something I certainly don’t want.

  “Isadora.” I hear my name and turn. Vincent appears around the hedge. “You're finally out of bed,” I say, smiling.

  “Why didn't you wake me?” Vincent asks.

  “Because I suspect that if I woke you, we'd still be in bed,” I reply.

  Vincent smiles, a genuine one that reaches his eyes. He walks over and takes my hand, and just that alone is enough to make my pulse speed up. I stand take Vincent's hand, and together we walk deeper into the garden.

  “You're right, of course. If it were up to me, you'd probably never leave our bed.”

  “I wouldn’t be a very good princess if never got out of bed,” I laugh even though the thought of never leaving bed sounds very appealing. “Besides, my country would fall apart and so would yours.”

  “We'll let Nathan run everything.”

  “Vincent,” I say, giving him what I hope is a warning look. I’m going for mildly threatening, but the smile Vincent gives tells me I’ve missed the mark.

  “But, Isadora, I'm sure he's more than capable of running all three nations. He'll just persuade everyone to do exactly as he says.”

  I don’t miss the sarcasm in Vincent’s tone.

  “Vincent,” I say, laying a hand on his arm, “I know you and Nathan have never been close. You've never even gotten along. Do you think this can really work? Can the two of you be friends?”

  “Well, we're trying. And we do have a common interest.”

  Vincent brushes his lips across mine and I almost forget about our conversation, but I’m not entirely happy with the answer to my question.

  “Promise that you two will be friends,” I say.

  “I promise I'll try,” he says, pulling me closer, “but right now I'd like to know what you were thinking about.”

  “Why?” I ask “Did I look worried?”

  “Quite the contrary, you looked like you were thinking about something you enjoyed very much.” His eyes fall to my chest. My hard nipples obvious through the fabric of my dress.

  “I was thinking about yesterday,” I say, leading us further down the garden path.

  “I see,” Vincent says, and I hear just a trace of desire creep into his voice.

  “Yes, about the food, about the wine.” I can’t resist teasing him just a little. “About Nathan’s fingers, about your big cock.”

  His mouth quirks up at the corner. “You can do more than think about it, you know.”

  “Oh, I intend to do much more,” I say, turning to kiss him.

  Isadora

  Everyone needs their quiet time, to get their thoughts together, to take a moment from everything else—all the pressures of the world—and to just escape. Some people write poetry or make music, some people drink—Nathan—but my thing is jogging, and it’s also very healthy.

  I jog several miles then stop in the park to catch my bearings. I wonder what Isadora is doing right now. Is she with Nathan? What are they talking about? Does Nathan really care about her in the same way that I do? Or is he just trying to compete to see if he can win like he tries to win everything else?

  These thoughts make me want to run again. I run sometimes like I’m running away. Other times, I run like I’m running toward her, like I’m on some crazy feat to rescue her. There’s something about Nathan that bothers me, something troubling. I feel like he comes from a dark place, and he needs Isadora too much. She needs someone who can protect her and give her a great life, not someone who’s still battling monsters. Someone like that can drag her down.

  I jog far through the trail of the forest, but I can still see the castle off in the distance. The castle is so large and imposing it seems to be in sight no matter where I am. Bored with my run, I turn on the trail and go back the way I came.

  It’s quiet and the smell of nature surrounding me is delicious. As I approach the garden, slowing my stride to a cooling walk to slow my heart.

  "Vincent!” Isadora yelps, her spine straightening as her eyes grow wide. Her eyes roam over the sweat glistening down my t-shirt and bare arms. “You scared me. I wasn’t expecting to see you.” She reaches for me, but I step back.

  “I should go shower,” I tell her.

  “No, stay.” She moves closer and grabs my arm, my tired, sore muscle bulging beneath her small fingers. I follow her to the bench and sit down, exhaling an exhausted breath from my jog. Silence fills the air around us, the night still and calm. A firefly flutters about the garden, his bulb flickering like a child flipping a light switch on then off as he keeps playing with it.

  I look around at the breath-taking view. The way the valleys drop off, the hills, and not too far off is the pond and the horses.

  I take a deep breath and with it comes all the delicious smells of the garden. It’s such a pleasant aroma this time of night. And it’
s quiet out here. With all those diplomats, all those busy bodies, all the people who work around here, the castle–even as big as it is–can still be quite noisy.

  I just can’t deal sometimes. I don’t think the noise bothers Nathan. Nathan is noise.

  I look down at Isadora. Having her out here is so serene. It’s perfect.

  “You like it out here?” I ask her.

  “Oh sure, why wouldn’t I?”

  She looks at my chest, which is fitted in a snug blue shirt, sweat drenching every inch of the fabric. My jogging pants are gray. A prince should match, even when it’s something like a jogging suit, but I didn’t take the time this morning. I’ve been running around all day, literally, thinking about her. I was thinking about how things would be without Nathan, if it were just her and I.

  Her poised form is elegant, like an angel statue in the cemetery. Her face is perfect, her bone structure, how her cheekbones are classic strokes along her face. Her lips. I have to kiss her. Right now, there is no waiting.

  So I place my hand on her chin and gently turn her to look at me. We kiss softly in the moonlight, and fireflies above her blonde hair portray a glowing halo.

  She kicks up her little feet in her perfect shoes.

  “Do your feet hurt?” I ask.

  “Not really. Do yours?” She points. “You’ve been jogging all day.”

  “True. I’m fine.”

  “You don’t smell fine,” she teases.

  “I said I’d take a shower!” I say, and we both laugh.

  “Maybe take this off,” she says, pulling my blue shirt away from my perfect body.

  “Well, someone’s in a frisky mood!” I say, fulfilling her request and pulling my shirt off. My odour pinches the air, and I’m somewhat embarrassed. Isadora, on the other hand, smells as sweet and lovely as the garden itself.

  “I think men smell worse than woman in general.”