Taming the King Page 2

  Violet sat up, her face flushed. “I see there are a few other magic toys here. Maybe I should use them. Let’s see.” She bent over the objects. “What can this be?” She held up several large beads, strung together, the string ending in a loop. “Hmm. They look very enjoyable.” She fixed him with a teasing gaze. “I think we’ll try these. Now, roll over and lie on your stomach.” He did, but since his hands were tied, he couldn’t move very fast. She slapped him with her whip to make him go faster. This he liked, and he considered asking for more, when she took a small, dark red, glass vial and looked at it. “Hmmm. What does this say? Black cherry oil? How lovely.”

  King Henri squirmed, his hard-on pressed into the bed. Again the whip fell. Burning sting followed by burning desire. His cock quivered with need. In a minute his heart would pound right out of his chest.

  “Don’t move,” said Violet. She purred as she crawled up on the bed next to him and parted the cheeks of his buttocks with her hand. She used the cloth on him, washing him. She was thorough, and her gentle rubbing nearly drove him mad. It took all his concentration not to explode into the covers.

  When she finished, she took some black cherry oil and dribbled it down the crack of his ass. By now King Henri’s cock was as hard as it had ever been, and ached so much he could think of nothing else.

  Violet used her finger and gently tickled his ass, rubbing and pressing until, with a cry, he relaxed and let her enter him. She penetrated him with her finger, thrusting gently in and out, until he was groaning with each thrust. His balls tightened, and he thought he was just about to come.

  “Ah no, my dear King. Not right now.” Her voice teased, and with a laugh, she withdrew her finger and slapped him lightly on the rear. “Time for something new.” She took the beads and one by one, slipped them into his ass. As each fat bead popped past the ring of tight muscle and entered him, he uttered a little moan of delight. How could anything feel so good, yet hurt so much? His ass stung and his cock ached, and he thought he’d died and gone to heaven.

  Then she slipped her hand under his belly and placed the loop over his cock, making sure it went all the way down the shaft. As her hand glided down his penis, he came a little, and she used it like a cream to massage his cock.

  “Now, turn over,” she said.

  He did, terribly aware of the beads in his ass. They moved when he did, sliding against each other, moving in and out, anchored by his cock. The beads gave him a terribly full feeling, as if he had been stuffed with pleasure balls. They rolled about, tickling him from the inside. His ass tightened and his cock twitched. Lying on his stomach, he saw his penis was nearly purple with need. He groaned, thrusting his hips up, seeking release.

  But Violet shook her head. With a smile, she picked up another toy. A golden nipple ring set with sparkling diamonds. She clipped it on his right nipple, and it pinched him painfully. She leaned over and licked his other nipple, until he was torn between pleasure on one side and pain on the other. His cock throbbed, and his ass clenched rhythmically against the beads.

  Violet looked deep into his eyes. “Do you love this?” she asked.

  “Yes,” King Henri gasped.

  “Am I everything you’ve ever dreamed of?” Her nails scraped softly over his chest.

  “Oh yes,” moaned King Henri. He arched his back. “Let me come, please let me come.”

  Violet grinned wickedly. Slowly, obviously enjoying his raging need and ache, she touched his hard cock with her fingertips, just teasing him. Then, when he roared with impatience and thrust his hips into the air, she straddled him, and with her hand, she guided his cock into her swollen cunt. He could see her wetness running down her thighs, and when she had sheathed herself on him, he felt how incredibly tight and hot she was.

  He wanted to last. He wanted it to last forever. He thrust with his hips as she raised and lowered herself onto his cock. The sight of his penis plunging into her beautiful cunt turned him on no end. He managed to control himself, and was just starting to feel smug about it, when she reached down and tugged on the string attached to the beads and started drawing them out.

  As they popped out, one by one, he came. Uncontrollably, crying out, thrusting madly, King Henri felt as if he was being turned inside out by his orgasm. As each bead left his body, a jet of come accompanied it, so that he hardly knew where his cock left off and his ass began. He dragged air into his lungs and cried out hoarsely.

  Violet reached between her legs and grabbed her clit. Rubbing it, she writhed, arched her back and then she opened her knees wide, so that he could see her cunt contracting as she came.

  Her beautiful body writhed upon his sex, and then she fell forward, her hair falling like a silk shawl over his chest and shoulders. Her body still trembled. Huge shudders ran through her, shaking her from head to foot. He wanted to put his arms around her and hold her tightly but his hands were still tied. He soothed her with his voice. “Hush, there, it’s all right.” She raised her head and looked at him. Tears sparkled on the edges of her lashes, and for the first time, he thought he might understand how she felt. His cock and ass ached, and his head felt so light he thought it might float off his shoulders.

  “I’m all right. How are you?” She wiped her face with her long hair and cuddled against his shoulder. Curiously, he didn’t feel the need to beg her to untie him yet. She lay against his chest, but he was her slave. An immense tenderness swept over him.

  With a soft sigh, Violet sat up, waved her hands, and the toys disappeared, including the silken rope holding King Henri’s hands tied to the bed. As soon as he was free, he gathered Violet in his arms and said, “Will you marry me, please?”

  “Yes,” she replied.

  “And will you,” he hesitated, feeling his ears getting a bit red, “will you bring the toys back again? Especially the little whip?” he asked.

  “Of course.” She raised her eyebrows and gave him a delightful smile. “And I have lots more where those came from.”

  A short time alter, they reclined in the royal guest bathroom in the marble tub. The rose-scented water warmed them, and pink rose blossoms floated in the bath. Then Violet kissed him softly on the lips and asked, “Will you be my sex slave?”

  “Gladly, whenever you ask,” he said, and as he spoke, his cock grew hard with achy need.

  “Then you have won your reward. It’s your turn to be the master now. I will be your slave,” and Violet bowed to him, her hair trailing in the water.

  * * * * *

  Violet shivered as she spoke. Fairies never bowed to anyone, and they were never slaves. In love, they kept control at all times. For a fairy, to be tied up and submit was tantamount to deepest humiliation—but she offered herself freely, for her heart had been captured by King Henri, and now she belonged to him, body and soul.

  In truth, her heart had been captured the first time she saw him. He’d wed her cousin, and she’d been at their wedding. She’d caught sight of the tall, handsome young king and for the first time she’d felt a twinge of jealousy towards her gentle cousin. But her happiness for Summer had not been forced, and when Summer had given birth, Violet had been there, holding her hand and crying with joy when the baby appeared.

  But without warning joy turned to tragedy and Summer had died. For her cousin, Violet made a promise that bound her to the infant baby. During eighteen years she’d tended the tiny princess and watched the king as he slid deeper into a misery she was helpless to assuage. She hid behind her fairy invisibility and sometimes stole into his room. Once she’d lay down by his side as he slept, and she’d tried to soothe his troubled dreams. Always her heart and body ached for him. Now he belonged to her, and she thought she would burst with happiness. So many years of longing, of watching and waiting for a chance to share her passion with him. Now everything had to be just perfect.

  He reached over and tipped her chin up. His eyes sparkled. “I will need some things first. Get me a whip, some silken bonds, and more of those love beads. As wel
l, I would like a jar of that cherry oil.” He pointed to the bed. “Now.”

  His masterful voice sent a frisson down her spine. “Yes, Master,” she said. She concentrated, and the objects appeared on the bed. Then she climbed out of the bathtub and took a towel. Holding it out to him, she said, “Shall I dry you?”

  He nodded. “Tell me, Violet, will you become mortal when we marry, like your cousin, my wife?”

  She thought she detected fear in his voice and thought she knew why. “Have no fear for your heir, Your Highness. I will become mortal and be able to bear you a child.”

  As the words left her lips, her heart contracted in fear. She hadn’t thought about it fully yet. In truth, she must be fickle. She’d tended Lily, yes, but she’d always longed to be free. For years she had been torn between her undeclared love for Henri and the urge to return to her happy-go-lucky life in Queen Mabb’s fairy court. When she saw King Henri, she had decided upon a whim to tease him into marrying her by making her hair blonde and her eyes blue. Now the weight of her decision landed fully upon her shoulders and she nearly dropped to her knees. Mortal!

  Henri took her hands. “I can’t bear to lose you to childbirth,” he said. “My need for an heir is one thing. Your life is another. I release you from your vows. If you wish, I will find another woman to bear my children.”

  What use the fairy court without Henri? She’d lived nearby him for eighteen years now, and she knew she wanted him desperately. She wanted to cry out that she loved him, and that it didn’t matter, but at that moment a hard knocking sounded at the door and one of the pages from the palace cried, “It’s dinner time, Your Highness King Henri.”

  In the silence that followed, she could have said something, but her mind still shrank from total commitment. Sex slave, yes, but mortal wife… Shivers ran down her spine and the words she wanted to speak remained locked in her throat.

  “My Lady, I believe we should dress and go to dinner. Our conversation will wait.”

  “All right.” She hesitated. “Shall I change hair and eye color, my lord? Let me know what you prefer.”

  He frowned and picked up his silken hose from the back of the chair. “What is your real coloring, Violet?”

  “In truth, it is very close to this.”

  “Show me.”

  She nodded and spun around. When she stopped, her hair had turned glossy ebony, darker than a raven’s plumage, and her skin had the warm glow of pale amber. “I’m afraid I look nothing like my cousin.” She waited for him to ask her to change to blonde hair and blue eyes, but he cupped her chin in his hands and raised it.

  “You are like an autumn night, where all is dark and still, and a fire burns warmly in the chimney. Your eyes are the midnight sky, with stars spangling the clear night, and your hair is a black silk cloak, warm and shimmering with the firelight of your skin.” He stopped and gave a soft laugh. “I am no poet, but when I look upon you, I wish to write verses, to sing songs to your beauty.”

  She felt her cheeks heat with a blush and it astounded her. Fairies don’t blush! He chuckled again and hugged her tightly. His cock had hardened and pressed against her stomach.

  “If we don’t leave now, we’ll miss dinner,” she said.

  “You are my slave. Fall to your knees, slave, and take me in your mouth. Hurry, for I don’t want my soup to get cold.”

  She knelt down, letting her hands slide along his hard body as she descended. Once on her knees, she rubbed her cheek against his cock, then, cupping his soft balls in her hand, she tilted her head and took his balls into her mouth, sucking on them, rolling them gently with her tongue.

  Henri groaned and wrapped his hands in her hair, leaning against her for balance. His cock rose, brushing against her ear. “Take my cock in your mouth,” he ordered.

  “Yes, Master.” She curled her fingers around his balls and then slid her lips over the tip of his cock. Teasing with her tongue over the soft ridges, she waited until she tasted a salty drop of come before sliding her mouth all the way down his smooth shaft and sucking hard. After one or two long pulls, she felt his balls tighten and a rush of thick come spurt into her throat. An answering ache bloomed in her cunt and she felt moisture gather in her tender folds. But she would take her pleasure later. The thought made her nipples tingle.

  He held her head tightly, his body bent over hers as he thrust into her mouth. She used her tongue and fingers to urge him on, and soon his balls contracted and he shot his warm seed into her throat. When he finished, he stood still for a minute, breathing heavily. She licked his cock clean, then looked up at him. “Is my Master satisfied?”

  “Yes, thank you.” He helped her to her feet. “I fear we shall be late, and there is a hole in my silken hose.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “That will never do. Here, let me help.” She waved her arms and dressed the king. She’d been longing to do this for ages. Why did he insist on wearing those dreary colors? There—much better. Now he wore a simple tunic in dark blue, and a short cloak the same color trimmed in dark gray. That went better with his dark blond hair and keen blue eyes.

  He raised his eyebrows as he looked in the mirror. Then he said, “What about you?”

  She waved her arms, and a gown of darkest plum silk arrayed her. A golden cloak kept her shoulders warm, and her hair braided itself and coiled into an intricate chignon. “Shall we go?”

  They strode into the dining hall together. Violet had sent Lupin and Lily on a honeymoon far away, so she expected only to see his parents, the king and queen of Erenoth at the table. However, as they entered the room, a tall, red-haired woman stood and bowed. Violet’s blood ran cold. Marquisa, another fairy whom she’d not seen in years. Ever since her cousin died, to be exact. Marquisa held out her hand to King Henri.

  “You remember me, don’t you? I’m Marquisa. I was related to your late wife by marriage. I hear you seek a queen to bear your children.”

  “This is not the time or place to discuss that,” snapped Violet.

  Marquisa raised her eyebrows. “How thoughtless of me. I didn’t see you, Violet. Of course, you’ve come to console King Henri on the loss of his bride-to-be.”

  Henri took Marquisa’s hand and kissed it politely. Then he said, “What brings you to the kingdom of Erenoth, Lady Marquisa? For I do remember you. You came for the birth of my daughter, and left when my wife died.” His voice had a wintry chill to it, but Marquisa didn’t seem to notice.

  “I remember quite clearly the promise your wife made you agree to on her deathbed. To marry a woman who looked just like her. Did you know that if a fairy becomes mortal, she reverts to her original appearance? Violet, as you see, looks nothing like your wife, God rest her soul. However, I do.” She waved her arms in a circle and her hair turned into gold and her eyes became blue. She looked exactly as Violet’s cousin, her dear Summer Willow, had looked. Everyone gasped.

  “In fact, I could almost be your wife’s twin.” Marquisa looked smug.

  Henri had turned pale. “I don’t think…” he began. But Marquisa interrupted smoothly.

  “A deathbed wish is sacred. You are bound by your promise and you know it.” The torches flickered as a cold wind blew through the room. Marquisa’s voice had a crystalline note of triumph.

  “I hate to get involved in matters of such delicacy, but I have a suggestion.” Everyone turned to gape at Queen Daisy, Lupine’s mother. She was a stout, matronly woman with a perpetually harried air about her, as if she’d just rushed to get someplace. When everyone turned to her, she became deep red and started to fidget. “Oh dear, perhaps I oughtn’t have said anything,” she stammered.

  Violet frowned. She hadn’t spoken three words to the woman in all her life, but for some reason, she sensed Queen Daisy had something important to say. “Pray, tell us what you…”

  Marquisa cut her off with a wave of the hand. “No, mortals have no part in this discussion, dear cousin. It is between you and I, and our dear Henri.” The look she sent towards the
queen was pure poison.

  “No.” Henri narrowed his eyes at Marquisa, and even Violet quailed. When he looked like that, thunderstorms seemed tame. Marquisa took a step backwards.

  “Very well,” she said sulkily.

  “I have a talent, it’s nothing really, not magic like you fairy folk, but it was handed down to me by my mother, who got it from her mo…”

  “Get to the point,” Marquisa snarled, her long fingernails digging into the back of the chair.

  Queen Daisy fluttered her hand before her breast and said, “I can talk to the dead. A small thing, really. It’s called a séance, and sometimes I get the most amazing results that…”

  Marquisa turned as white as the damask tablecloth. “No! I won’t allow it. How dare you?”

  “Could you really talk to my dear wife?” Henri, on the other hand, looked interested. “I command that you…” He broke off, perhaps realizing whom he spoke to, or catching sight of the King’s scandalized look, he said, “Um, please Madame, I would be very interested.”

  “Very well. After dinner then. I will have Geoffrey set up the salon. Until then, I insist that we dine in peace.”

  The queen might look like a scatterbrain, decided Violet, but she most decidedly was not. Henri touched her shoulder and guided her to a chair, sitting next to her. On his other side Marquisa sat, and she leaned over close to him, showing off her low-cut robe and her impressive bosom.

  Violet longed to say something acid, like “Heavens Marquisa, are you nursing?” or “It must be hard finding a spell to keep them plumped up like that. By the way, I think one is bigger than the other.” But she said nothing. For one, Queen Daisy expected good manners, and besides, she wasn’t by nature a catty fairy. Capricious, yes, and often shallow.

  “No, you’re not!”