by Tl Reeve
Long minutes later, the paramedics and a female officer entered the house and helped their girl. When Stuart saw her again, she was wearing clothes. Her face was covered in blue and red bruises. Her eyes were swollen from crying. Damn, she looked beautiful. When her fingers threaded with his, he breathed a sigh of relief. He didn’t care what happened next. Darkness crept in around the edges of his vision and he gave over to it, knowing their girl was safe.
Chapter Thirteen
Three weeks later
Sabine woke up cocooned between two warm bodies. Her head lay on Kyle’s chest while Stuart spooned her from behind. She wiggled against him and heard his soft muffled moan. Again she teased him, knowing it would further arouse him, if the stiffening erection pressing the cleft of her ass was any indication. For the most part, both men had been out of commission. Lucky for Stuart, the bullet hadn’t hit his artery and Kyle’s wounds were healing nicely as well.
A devilish smile crossed her lips as a plan took root in her head. Lowering her hand while she rubbed against Stuart, she cupped an already hard Kyle, stroking his length through his sleep pants. His eye cracked open and a rough, sleep-addled groan passed his lips. “What are you doing, sweetheart?”
“Well, if I have to explain, I’m not doing it right.” She squeezed him through the material.
“Baby, you keep rubbing me, and this will be all over before we start.” Stuart ran his hand up under her shirt, cupping her breast. Goose flesh rose the second he ran his thumb over her turgid nipple and tugged on the bead. Her eyes fluttered shut, and his rough chuckle made her shiver in delight.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear she was trying to seduce us,” Kyle said, lifting his hips into her touch. “If she was a good girl, she’d have that pretty mouth of hers on my dick, sucking it.”
His scintillating words caressed her senses, forcing her eyes open as she worked the ties on the front of his pants, while pushing back at Stuart. The man grabbed her hips while she worked her other lover’s pants down, exposing him to her perusal. A small pearl of clear essence pooled at his tip. Sabine’s mouth watered. Her tongue slipped from between her lips and lapped at the drop. Kyle hissed, fisting his hand in her hair.
Gentle, feather-light caresses danced up her inner thigh and settled over her sex, zeroing in on her clit. Stuart fingered her slit while she took Kyle’s crest into her mouth. She moaned around him, rolling her hips in invitation. When his finger slipped into her pussy, she arched, swallowing more of Kyle’s cock. She could feel him stiffen under her, and his rough growl of approval caused her to grow wetter with each plunge. She lapped and sucked at her man, while her other lover finger-fucked her, adding a second then a third finger.
The slurping sound of wet play filled the room. Her breathy sighs combined with their masculine grunts of pleasure added to the inferno building inside her. Sabine pulled off Kyle long enough to remove her top, then went back to work, taking him to the back of her throat and swallowing around him. Their movements became frantic and when Stuart finally pushed his dick deep inside her quivering cunt, she let go of Kyle and her cry of unadulterated bliss bounced off the walls of the room. He filled her so completely, brushing the sensitive nerve endings hidden deep within her passage. She rolled her hips encouraging him to keep going while she sucked Kyle harder.
“Your mouth, baby,” Kyle moaned. “So fucking hot and sweet. I could get lost in you. Come ride me.”
“Are you sure,” she asked. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t, come on.” He held his hand out to her and she readily took it. “That’s my girl.”
She straddled his hips, rubbing against his hard length teasingly. Kyle’s eyes closed, and a slow, sensual smile crossed his lips. She felt whole in their arms. Although she’d been heartbroken watching her father die and wanted so badly to blame the men who surrounded her at the moment, she knew deep down, they would never do anything to hurt her. Her father had caused his own issues. No one could have saved him, but him. Sabine lifted her hips, waiting for Kyle to fill her. Stuart handed him a condom.
“Put it on me,” Kyle murmured.
Carefully, she grabbed the condom and slid it on. When it was in place, she repositioned herself, sinking down on his cock. His fingers dug into her hips as his guttural groan made her sex clench with need. She circled her hips, lifting up and down slowly at first then picking up her pace. She cried out feeling his fingers tug and pull at her stiff nipples. To her side, she watched as Stuart stroked his dick.
His chest was flushed, his eyes closed. Stuart’s hand worked his cock, keeping pace with them. A shiver of delight rippled down her spine as she rode Kyle harder. Need built deep inside her, growing and expanding until she felt like she would explode. She heard it then—another wrapper tearing—and paused. Kyle pulled her down into his arms, holding her in place.
“There was one thing we never did with you, baby. We’re going to rectify that right now. Tell me,” Stuart crooned rubbing her ass. “Can you take both of us?” The snap of a cap brought her head around and she watched as he squirted some lube onto his fingers.
Her eyes closed.
The cool press of the lube against her puckered entrance had her tensing in Kyle’s arms. “Shush,” he whispered, flexing his hips. His cock filled her once more. Sabine gave herself over to the pleasure. “Just feel us, sweetheart.”
Stuart’s finger rimmed the tight band of muscles, coating it in the lube, then pulled back and added more of the gel. On his second pass, he dipped the tip of his finger into her, fucking her slowly. She moaned, pushing back at him, taking both of them deeper. Pain and pleasure coalesced in those untried nerve endings as they came to life under his touch. Stuart continued to work her open, adding a second then third finger.
Sabine cried out.
“Shit, man. Hurry the hell up, she’s strangling me.” Kyle groaned.
“Fuck.” Stuart groaned. She felt his fingers slip from her back hole. Without delay, the tip of his cock fit against her puckered entrance and pushed forward.
Pain bloomed where he stretched the taut band of muscles. Though it burned to be stretched in such salacious ways, it was also sweet and something new brewed deep in her belly. Pleasure so intense gathered there with each roll of Stuart’s hips. “Oh God,” she moaned pressing her forehead to Kyle’s chest.
When one thrust, the other retreated. Together they worked in tandem, never giving her a chance to find their rhythm. All she could do was hold on for the ride and what a ride it was. Stuart gripped her hips, holding her still while trailing kisses down her spine. Kyle pinched and tweaked her nipples while nipping at her neck. Their cries of passion filled the room as each of them drew closer to the cataclysmic climax Sabine knew was coming.
“We won’t ever get enough of you, Sabine,” Stuart grunted. “You’re ours, always ours.” He fitted his hand between her and Kyle and rolled her clit. She saw stars. Her breath hitched and she could feel her cream slip from between her folds. He was pushing her headlong into her release and she didn’t stop it. She reveled in the feeling of them surrounding her and the absolute love she felt for both of them.
“Stuart,” she sobbed. “Please.” Her body shook from head to toe. She could feel herself tensing up, growing ever closer to that moment when she would let go and soar.
“Come, baby. Give it to us.” Stuart sucked her lobe into his mouth and she shattered. Sabine screamed their names, bucking in both men’s arms.
“Fuck yes,” Kyle barked, slamming into her twice more.
Behind her, Stuart stilled. His arms banded around her, holding her close as he grunted through his release. Long moments later, they gently pulled from her and lie next to her. In that moment, no matter what happened, she resolved that both of these men were hers. A small part of her acknowledged the love she had for both of them, but for now she was content to stay in their arms, treasuring every memory they’d make together, and never taking for granted how speci
al life really was.
***
The television played in the background as Sabine walked back into the living room. Stuart was making them lunch while Kyle was finishing up a couple of reports from the incident at the station. Her father had been buried in a quiet ceremony a few days after everyone had been released from the hospital. The media never caught wind of what he did, and she was slowly becoming okay with that.
Of course there was a part of her that wondered what if? What if she had seen the signs? What if she’d been a better daughter? Sure, she knew her father’s drug problem wasn’t her issue and no matter what, he had to be the one to accept he needed help. Yet there were times where she wondered if perhaps, she should have tried harder to see him. Glancing up at the screen, she paused. Water hoses were on full power while water trucks surrounded one of the warehouses. Backhoes and dump trucks worked in tandem to clear debris. Men wearing safety vests and hard hats supervised the teardown.
Sabine knew that building. She’d been in that building. The reporter’s voice came in loud and clear as she turned up the television. “Bob, this is what we know. Within the last couple of hours, the order was given for this particular warehouse to be torn down immediately. We’re still working on how this happened so quickly. However, what we do know is that the empty building was owned by James Claymore, alleged associated of Steffen Rutherford, found dead along with Police Chief Granger inside his Garden District home three weeks ago. The mayor’s office isn’t commenting at this time. When we have more information, we’ll bring it to you. Live at the scene of a warehouse demolition in the Warehouse District, I’m Corinne Beltran.”
Sabine stood up, dropping the controller on the floor. Her hand instantly went to her mouth. “Stuart?” She called out weakly. “Stuart?”
She watched the man come out of the kitchen, a knife in one hand and a potato in the other. “What’s wrong, baby?”
“It’s gone.”
His eyes narrowed as he moved into the living room. “What’s gone?”
“The warehouse. The city is tearing it down right now.” She still couldn’t believe what she was saying. She opened her mouth to ask the question poised on the tip of her tongue, but was cut off when Kyle came through the door.
“Hey,” he paused, frowning. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m not sure. Sabine was just telling me the warehouse is coming down,” Stuart answered, not taking his eyes off Sabine.
“Really?” Kyle crossed the room in a couple of strides and replayed the report. “Holy shit.”
“Did you hear anything at the station?” Stuart asked wrapping the potato and knife in the towel he’d had over his shoulder.
“No, nothing. I would have called home had I,” he answered coming up next to them.
Sabine relaxed, sitting back down on the couch. “I can’t believe it.” Her voice was whisper soft as she spoke.
“Couldn’t have happened to a better building, I say.” Stuart picked up the towel and headed back to the kitchen. “Lunch is in twenty.”
She watched Kyle sit down next to her and lay his hand on her knee. “You know, without that building, we would have never met you. I’m not sorry it’s gone. I’ll never be sorry about that. However, I am grateful it was there. Without this case, we would have never found the perfect person to complete us.” He leaned in, kissing her gently. “I can’t speak for Stuart when I say this, but I love you, Sabine. Always will.”
“And now you know which one of us is the mushy one,” Stuart said coming back into the living room. He held his hand out to her and she took it readily. “But he’s right this time. Without this crazy adventure, none of us would be together, and that would make our life a little duller. I love you too, Sabine.” His lips pressed to hers and she felt him smile. “Shouldn’t you have something to say back?”
Sabine laughed and nodded. “I do. I love you both as well. My heroes.”
~A Letter from TL Reeve~
Dear Readers,
Thank you for picking up a copy of Saving Their Princess. When I first saw the submission call for the Beyond Fairytale, I didn’t know what to expect. But, after receiving my Grimm tale, I couldn’t wait to dig in. Though I hit a few rough spots along the way, I have thoroughly enjoyed writing Stuart, Sabine and Kyle’s story. My hope is that you too, will enjoy their story as much as I did writing it.
So, let me know what you think. I always enjoy hearing from my fans. You can always reach me at [email protected].
Happy reading,
TL!
Beyond Fairytales
www.decadentpublishing.com
Taliasman by Anastasia Vitsky
Chapter One
Present Day
If I had been born a boy, I would have followed in my father’s footsteps and become a tradesman. Because I was a girl, he sold me instead.
“No,” Vina corrects me when I bring up the story, which is not often. She doesn’t like the facts, and I dislike her pretty lies. “Your mother agonized whether to let you go, but she knew you would be better off here. She wanted to give you a better life.”
I would call Vina on her mistruths, but she claims I still reason as a child. All of my protests to the contrary serve to prove her right, at least in her mind. Only when I agree with her does she admit I am a full-grown adult.
“You’re happy with me, aren’t you?” Vina makes me sit next to her at the formal dinners she hosts most nights, and she dresses me in rich silks with real lace. If I tell her no, she sends me to my room as punishment for what she calls my petulance. If I resist, she gives me one of her lessons in obedience. Some are painful, others pleasurable, and all serve to narrow my world and make me focus on her. How could I not, when she owns me?
“No,” Vina corrects me when I call her my owner. “I set you free, and I gave you the life you never could have had otherwise.”
When I turned nineteen, no one wanted to marry me. My mother fussed with my hope chest, if it could be called that, arranging the one cotton handkerchief as if it could attract a suitor.
“Let me stay with you,” I entreated my parents, and I won. I always did. The house needed new walls, and I wielded the power tools. Small of stature and still a child, I could carry them to the electric outlet on the neighbor’s property. As an adult, Father would have faced fines for stealing electricity.
“You’ve turned her into such a tomboy no one will want her,” Mother chided Father, and the truth stung. I could have cared for my parents into their old age, but they wanted me gone.
When a visitor arrived, unannounced, I scrubbed our last two potatoes. The striking woman in a red hooded cloak would get an entire potato to herself. Father and Mother would share the second potato, and I would boil the peelings in the leftover water for myself. My mouth watered, and I gave thanks for the visitor’s coming. I could fill my belly for the first time in months. Curious about the newcomer, I eavesdropped on the conversation. Vina punishes me now for listening, but I hadn’t learned her rules yet.
“You can’t provide for her,” the stranger said, and Father’s shoulders sagged. “She will give her youth to you, and what will happen after you die?”
If I had been a boy, the stranger would have asked me about my life. I would have learned Father’s trade, become the “& Son” of his third-generation woodworking business, and taken my rightful place as heir to the master of the house. As a girl, I cost Father a dowry he couldn’t afford to pay.
“If you aren’t offering Talia a suitor, why are you here?”
That was Mother, blunt as always. Father preferred to work with his hands, but Mother’s sharp tongue rang through the house day and night. “Charles,” she would say, “the eaves trough is crooked.” No matter how tired or hungry, my father would fix the eaves trough before Mother gave him dinner. Those nights, I darned socks with a growling stomach until Father took his first bite. When one of us wore out our only pair of socks, I unraveled the yarn, tied the frayed ends, and
knitted once more.
The stranger laid a cloth sack onto the table. The contents clinked as Father loosened the drawstring.
“Gold?” Father shouted, scraping his chair back. “Sell my daughter to a slaver? Get out of here before I break your scrawny neck!”
“How much?” Mother asked, and with those words, she sealed my fate.
If I had been a boy, Mother would have counted the coins given to marry her son. Instead, she sold me for enough gold to keep her in new silk stockings every day for the rest of her life. She no longer needed a knitter of thrice-used yarn.
Back at the palace banquet table, Vina waits for her answer. “You’re happy with me,” she repeats, and her eyebrows arch in warning. I can repeat her litany of lectures before they come from her mouth. “Instead of letting you die in uneducated squalor, I brought you to my palace where you want for nothing. I gave you food, clothes, and books. God meant for you to be mine.” When I fail to produce the expected apology and affirmation of her twisted version of events, she slides her chair backward. “Couldn’t we have one day without this discussion?”
“You bought me,” I whisper, refusing to give in. “How can you expect me to be happy?”
She pinches the skin above my left elbow.
I would run, if I had any place to hide. I would fight, if I had any weapons to wield. I would argue, if I had any listeners to hear. Instead, I edge away from her grip. Whether she dismisses her servants or allows them to watch, the outcome is always the same. I will not give gratitude for lies. “No,” I say, because refusal provokes consequences only when she listens. I lower my head, studying the tasseled fringe of the tablecloth embroidered in gold thread.
