The Playful Prince

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The Playful Prince Page 7

by Michelle M. Pillow


  Tori didn’t move from the couch as she threw her head back in pleasure. Her fingers gripped into the soft cushion, nearly puncturing it as he touched her. A weak sound left her throat, and she wiggled her hips for attention. His fingers teased, skimming everywhere but the center heat. Fire burned a hot trail over her flesh, raging through her blood until every corner of her body and mind sizzled with longing.

  “Quinn, please,” she begged, moving to stand.

  A low growl sounded from him, making her knees weak and her heart palpitate. He pushed her back down. His fingers finally dipped between her thighs, causing her to cry out. Stroking along her soaked opening, he teased the sensitive bud he found buried in her silken folds. Then, easing a finger inside, he tested her depths, stroking firmly in a slow rhythm as she thrust herself onto his hand. She was hot, ready, nearly screaming with the agony of need.

  Quinn moved his body behind Tori, letting her feel that he’d stripped off his clothes. The heavy length of his erection pressed into her tender skin as his hands wrapped around her to grab her sensitive breasts in his palms. Her responses were pure, natural, primitive. She was confident in her body’s reaction to him, and it spurred him into a mindless web of wonder. Even more arousing was the fact she accepted his Var side without fear. She was a passionate woman, more so than he’d ever imagined.

  Edging next to her, he lightly stroked his shaft along her opening, letting her get used to the feel. To his surprise, her hips bucked back, forcing him to dip inside the rim of her body. That one feel was more than he could take. He pushed forward, burying himself to the hilt. Her muscles stretched around him, clamping down so hard he nearly lost himself.

  “Ah,” Tori cried out. Her fingers worked the couch. “Oh, Quinn, yes, yes.”

  Her hips moved, as she tried to get him to thrust. He instantly obeyed, drawing his hips back and forth as he moved within her. A tension built in her thighs, warming its way into her blood until she was screaming for release. At her cries, he only moved faster until he had her hips in his hands and was pounding so hard the slapping of their bodies echoed around them.

  Quinn grunted. Tori screamed. Their hips rocked faster and harder, seeking the release they both desperately needed.

  The tension built, nearly tearing them apart as they sought to end it. Then, suddenly, with a high-pitched yell, she began to tremble. He felt as if he was careening off a cliff. Her muscles clamped tightly around his shaft.

  Quinn’s soft shout of pleasure followed hers. He stiffened behind her and his body released heavily into her, milked by the clenching and unclenching of her feminine muscles. They held frozen, unable to move for a long time. Then, falling against her back, he sighed and began to caress her gently.

  Tori stood, turning to wrap her arms around his neck. A small sound of contentment hummed past her lips. Quinn swooped down, capturing her lips as he kissed her breath away. Then pulling back, he grinned wickedly.

  “What is your first name, Doctor Elliot? I’ve been listening for it all night.”

  Tori laughed. “Tori. It’s Tori.”

  “Well, Tori,” Quinn said, leaning forward to lick playfully at her mouth. He swept her up into his strong arms, tossing her into the air before catching her. She squealed in delight and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Let’s move this to the bed. I want to play.”

  Tori giggled, the sound strangely carefree when compared to her usual tone. Quinn bent to kiss her as he made his way across the room with tiny steps, his pants dragging around his ankles behind them.

  11

  The next morning, Quinn was grinning like a fool before he awoke. Tori had been a little wildcat, and he could honestly say he was drained. Never had he had a lover who could keep up with, and maybe even surpass him, with her need. Oh, and was she a vixen! The things she could do with her mouth he’d only dreamt about. Thinking about it, he moaned. As his shaft rose to the memory of her lips on him, he knew that he’d been wrong. He was almost drained, almost.

  She was adventurous too, allowing him to bend her however he wished without protesting. They’d both been too eager to stop and play bed games, but he was sure she’d readily agree to them. With that in mind, his hand slid next to him on the silk sheets of the bed, reaching for her.

  Quinn’s fingers met with the mattress, and he frowned. His head lifted, but not his body. Automatically, he knew she’d left him. Her presence wasn’t in the room, and he felt cold without it. A frustrated sigh left his mouth, and his head dropped on the mattress.

  Sacred cats, she is an exasperating woman!

  12

  Tori looked out over the shadowed marshes. The four scientists were led on foot by two Var guards. Both Var men looked shyly at her with curious expressions, but none smiled as boldly as before. It was almost as if their attraction to her was tempered and she couldn’t help wondering if they knew about her night together with the prince. She wasn’t ashamed of her actions but was concerned that it might affect the legitimacy of her presence there.

  They all carried large hiking packs on their backs, all except the older Simon, who carried a small bag over his shoulder. The bulk of their supplies would be brought up later that day, just as soon as they found the perfect place to camp. They were told that it was an hour of travel over rough terrain before they’d reach the caves.

  As they’d left the palace, they passed the Var city. It was nestled in the valley below the castle. The city was a bustling maze of earthen streets and large rectangular homes, whose walls and foundations were constructed of fired bricks held together by mortar. Clay pots were set outside doorsteps, some containing flowers and other native plants.

  The streets were clean and orderly. Beautiful woven rugs and blankets hung outside in the sun, drying on lines. There was less intricate tile work than inside the palace, but the city was lovely nonetheless. Many of the homes were two stories high with flat roofs and no windows. The grand design indicated that most of the Var population prospered.

  The sound of young boys playing echoed around them briefly as they passed the city, then all noise was swallowed up by the surrounding forest and marshland. Tori had caught a glimpse of the palace as they traveled. It stood tall against the blue-green sky. Square turrets reached high into the heavens, looming commandingly over the city. It was truly magnificent.

  According to their guides, they were trudging through the edge of the swamplands. The trees of the forest were enormous, bigger than the legendary redwoods on Old Earth. Tori felt dwarfed by them.

  They were told to keep their feet from the murky waters, as a poisonous snake called a givre swam freely in them. Across the swamps to the north was the Draig palace. The guards tensed slightly when she asked about the Var’s longtime enemy, but finally grudgingly admitted that the Draig had acted honorably so far, and there was nothing to make them suspect they’d cause the scientists trouble, especially since they were there to make sure the biological weapons were completely gone.

  A diffused light fell over the dense forest in a soft green haze that blended eerily with the patches of hot, steamy fog from the nearby marshes. From what Tori could tell, there wasn’t much difference between the swamps and the marshes, except that the marshes seemed void of all life. The Var appeared to use the two Old Star language words interchangeably even though she would have argued the scientific difference of marshes and swamps.

  “Be sure to clarify in your notes that they call the swamps ‘shadowed marshes’,” Vitto told Tori.

  “The Old Star language is often muddled by outlying cultures,” Simon said. “Regional dialects change it over time. I once visited a remote island on an even more remote planet that referred to good food as ‘dog shit’ and their strongest warriors as ‘pansies’. You can imagine the natural confusion when they excitedly told us to eat ‘dog shit’ and called our armed guard escorts ‘pansies’. All things considered, I think the Var speak the language rather well.”

  The marshes were an awful place. Moss
hung from treetops, unmoving in their windless isolation. The air was damp, stagnant, and filled with the rotting smell of molding plant life and animal carcasses. Even the insects seemed to have deserted the area.

  Stopping, Tori shared a concerned look with Vitto. Quietly, she said, “This doesn’t feel right.”

  Vitto nodded. Grant stopped near them, hearing her comment. He frowned, looking around as if for the first time that late morning. He’d been grumpy since he’d been pulled from Linzi’s bed, and they’d left him alone for the most part. Now, a professional light entered his eyes, turning him serious. He slowly nodded in agreement with Tori and Vitto.

  “Excuse me,” Grant said to the guards, stopping them in their progress. “Have your marshes always been like this?”

  “Have been since I can remember,” one answered.

  The other, who Tori sensed was the older, more hardened of the two, said, “You know, when I was a young boy we used to hunt here. There was wildlife all along the Western Ridges, but that was ages ago. Now this black moss grows on everything.”

  “Black moss?” Tori asked, looking around. She didn’t see any black moss.

  “Here,” the guard offered. He walked over to a stone and kicked it over. Sure enough, there was a black fungus on the bottom of it. As they watched, it slowly withered as if affected by the sunlight. Within a few seconds, it turned a dark gray.

  “That’s going to make it harder to study,” Vitto observed.

  “Hmm, not if we figure out if it’s the air or the light that affects it,” Simon put forth from behind them.

  “Come on, guys,” Tori urged. “Let’s set up camp first, and then we can begin collecting samples and mapping the cave systems.”

  “You know,” Grant allowed as they began walking again. “You never mentioned how your date with Prince Quinn went.”

  Vitto began snickering. Tori stopped. She eyed Vitto and then Grant.

  “What did you two do?” she demanded with a worried frown.

  “Nothing,” Vitto said, trying to look innocent and failing.

  “Yeah, nothing,” Grant mimicked.

  “You’d better spill it,” Tori warned.

  “They told him you were a feminist, and you hated to be treated like a lady,” Simon offered with a sheepish grin.

  Vitto and Grant laughed harder at their own joke.

  “Come on, Elliot,” Grant pleaded. “You have to tell us what happened. What did you say to the poor guy? We know you tore him apart.”

  “Come on, Tor! We’ve been dying to know.” Vitto turned his dark eyes to her in merriment.

  “Actually, you two troublemakers, he was a perfect gentleman,” Tori announced. “He brought me flowers, chocolate and a bottle of wine. It would seem some men know how to treat a lady and how not to listen to morons like you.”

  “Oh my gawd,” Grant announced. His mouth dropped open. “You got laid!”

  “Ew,” Vitto grimaced. He grabbed his ears and started wailing. “I didn’t want to hear that. My ears, my ears, they’re burning. Make it stop, mommy, make it stop!”

  Tori hit him repeatedly on the arm to make him be quiet.

  “That’s workplace abuse,” he grumbled good-naturedly. “I’ll take you up on a section eight charge.”

  “You’re an imbecile,” Tori said. “Section eight is for misappropriate use of funding. Now shut up, or I’ll tell everyone how you really got this job.”

  “You shut up or I’ll tell everyone what I used to call you when we were kids,” Vitto returned with an impish grin.

  “Do and I’ll fire you,” she teased.

  “Tori,” Vitto whined. He made a face behind her back as she walked away.

  Grant laughed and, in a little kid voice, said, “Ooooh! You’re gonna be in so much trouble, Vitto. I’m telling Doctor Elliot on you.”

  13

  “What do you mean she left?” Quinn asked his brother in the growling tone of their shared language. Kirill looked up from his long stone desk in the royal office to study his brother. He was surrounded by chairs, a couch, and rugs.

  The royal office was much like the rest of the palace with the same beautiful tile work on the walls and the same medieval castle feel to the structure. Opposite Kirill’s desk, a large barren fireplace was dwarfed by the even larger sidewall. Long banners hung on either side of it. A large woven rug of red and blue lay on the floor. Its intricate pattern was perhaps the loveliest in the palace. Next to the rug were large chairs, so deep they’d nearly swallow a person whole.

  “She insisted on going, to get started this morning. I’m having the rest of her supplies sent out after they established what she called a base camp. Why?” Kirill studied his brother curiously. “Has something happened? You seem abnormally tense. It’s unlike you.”

  “I’m fine,” Quinn grouched. He paced around the office, stopping at the fireplace to look at nothing in particular.

  “Ah, so it did not go so well last night, I take it?” Kirill asked, standing from his desk. “Did you give her the flowers?”

  “Yes.”

  “The chocolate?”

  “Yes. Yes. Yes,” Quinn insisted. “I gave her...everything.”

  “Ah,” Kirill answered then, as a knowing look came to him. He said, “Ooooh. Then you’re upset because she’s gone.”

  “Ever since you fell in love you’re really annoying, you know that,” Quinn stated with a grimace. “My mood has nothing to do with Doctor Elliot leaving. I only wish to be informed of their whereabouts for the sake of my duty. I can’t very well be the ambassador if I don’t know where the scientists are at all times, can I?”

  Kirill ignored the question and chuckled instead. “Ever since you laid eyes on the female doctor, your moods have been very unpredictable. Women will do that to you.”

  “What, you’ve been married for two days, and suddenly you’re an expert on women? This coming from the man who thought calling a woman his property was a compliment.” Quinn shook his head. It had taken Kirill a long time to come around to accepting his feelings for Ulyssa.

  “My Lyssa knows what I mean, that’s all that matters,” Kirill answered with a grin and a shrug. “I am as much her property as she is mine.”

  “I am happy for you, brother,” Quinn allowed. “She is a good woman and she will give you a fine son.”

  “Thank you.”

  Quinn moved to go.

  “Quinn,” Kirill called.

  “Yeah?”

  “You know, it wouldn’t be so terrible if you found a good woman and mated to her.” Kirill’s voice was quiet, gauging. “It does something to the inner self. I’ve never felt more whole.”

  “What would our father say to that? Two sons falling for women.” Quinn chuckled, but even as he laughed, he heard his father’s words drumming into his brain. “To be ruled by a woman is to be ruled by weakness. Kingdoms are only as strong as their rulers, and you must be strong my sons. A man cannot bow to a woman and still call himself a man. To fall for a woman is to fall for stupidity.”

  “Our father was wrong,” Kirill said softly when Quinn didn’t move, didn’t answer. “A woman’s love gives strength not weakness.”

  “Until you lose it, brother,” Quinn answered so softly Kirill couldn’t hear. He wouldn’t dampen his brother’s happiness with his own doubts about love and mating. He was glad for the king but knew such a thing as life mates and happiness wasn’t for everyone. It most likely wouldn’t be for him.

  14

  Tori looked over the campsite and nodded in approval of it. They’d managed to set up four tents on relatively flat ground. A rocky cliff rose high on one side, and the guards told her that was where the entrance to the cave system started.

  Their supplies came a couple of hours after they’d arrived, and a fifth tent was set up as a makeshift laboratory. Grant and Vitto were unpacking the equipment, and she could hear their mischievous arguing coming from inside the tent. She grinned as Vitto yelled. A loud smack soun
ded, and Grant’s cry of pain soon followed.

  “Boys,” she yelled. “Don’t make me separate you two!”

  “Yes, mom,” came their cry in unison.

  Tori chuckled and shook her head. “I’ll be right back. I’m going to climb up to the cave.”

  A rope ladder hung from the entrance. It had been there when they arrived. Testing it out, she decided that it appeared sturdy enough and began to climb.

  “Hey, be careful,” Vitto yelled beneath her.

  “I’m just checking out the entrance. I won’t be long,” she answered.

  Tori made her way to the opening and pulled herself in. She stood, her eyes glancing into the dim cave light. Grabbing a flashlight off her utility belt, she shone it around the opening. The stone was red, the color of the Qurilixen soil. Seeing a narrow tunnel at the back, she moved toward it. She had to turn sideways to get through, but she managed it with little trouble.

  The tunnel led to a large cavern. Crystal formations protruded from the ceiling from the entrance deeper into the cave. They reflected the outside light, causing spots to dance on the walls like little rainbows. Small inlets and tunnels spiraled off from the side walls. She turned off her light, not needing it. Then, grabbing a sticker off her utility belt, she peeled it back and slapped it on the wall, marking the exit with a big green circle.

  After a quick walk through, Tori left the beautiful cave. Simon had started supper on the campfire when she reached the bottom. She grinned at him as he stirred a big pot.

  “What are we having tonight?” she asked.

  “Stew,” Simon chuckled.

  “Ala something from a foil pack labeled stew,” Grant offered, holding up the empty foil pack for her to see.

  Tori laughed, before asking cautiously, “Does it look good?”

 

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