Enslaved: A Kinky Adult Fairy Tale (Bedding the Bad Girl Book 3) Page 3

  She pushed against him, spreading herself wide to the tongue he continued to flick against her sensitized flesh. Within a few seconds she was breathless again, head thrown back, breasts arched toward the ceiling as her body tightened and her head swam.

  “Again, Calliope. Come for me again. I want to watch your—”

  “Aaron!” She gasped for air as her body clamped down with spine-bowing intensity on the thick fingers inside her.

  She trembled and shook and clutched at his hair as he withdrew his fingers and replaced them once again with his mouth, lapping at her cream with a fervor that left no doubt that he had a passion for the work.

  “I want you. Please, inside me.” She tugged at his hair, knowing she would die if he brought her to the edge again without him inside her.

  Never had she ached for a man like this. Making love with Aaron would put the awkward, hurried couplings she’d shared with Jamie to shame.

  You won’t even remember Jamie’s name. This man is your destiny, your love, the liberator of your magic and your heart.

  Calliope’s eyes flew open.

  No! It couldn’t be! But the word liberation was too much of a coincidence and this sudden explosive chemistry with a stranger was odd to say the least.

  What if what she felt for Aaron, and what he felt for her, wasn’t real? What if this passion was the side effect of her spell, another case of her magic running amok?

  Before she could warn Aaron of her fears, he was out of the bath, pressing her back onto the tiles. Her legs were already spread wide and he settled easily between them, his cock butting up against her entrance before she had time to fully prepare herself.

  “Calliope,” he cried out as he thrust inside her.

  Calliope gasped at the way he filled her, stretching her to the point of discomfort, but the discomfort only lasted a moment. Within seconds, she had adjusted to accommodate his girth and pain was the furthest thing from her mind. He slid his wide hands beneath her shoulders and bottom, cushioning her from the floor, taking the weight of their bodies as he glided in and out.

  Soon there was nothing but pleasure, nothing but the bliss of Aaron’s cock tunneling in and out of her core, his chest hot and heavy over hers, his strong arms cradling her as they mated with increasing abandon. He kissed her again as he worked between her legs, faster and faster. The taste of her on his lips made her wild. She pulled him tightly to her, plunging her tongue into his mouth, meeting his thrusts with her own.

  “I want more of you. I don’t ever want to stop,” he growled against her lips.

  She made a sound of protest as he withdrew from her body, but eagerly followed his lead as he pulled her to her feet and guided her down onto her belly on the nearby couch. She felt his heat behind her almost instantly and tilted her hips to aid his entry.

  He thrust back into her with one swift, deep stroke, bringing with him a feeling of completion, safety, and peace unlike anything she had ever known.

  “Aaron.” She whispered his name like a prayer, but she had never felt more wonderfully sinful than she did at that moment. The knowledge that he couldn’t see her face eliminated the last of her restraint and she fearlessly followed her wildest urges.

  She arched back into his thrusts, shamelessly tilting her hips and bucking back into him until the flesh on her bottom rippled. But still she pushed harder, rising onto her hands and knees, delighting when his strong hands dug into the soft flesh of her hips. She could feel her face twisted with carnal hunger, but she didn’t care, didn’t care about anything but taking her lover to the edge and freefalling beside him.

  “God, sweet, I’m going to come. I want you to—”

  Calliope drowned out his words with her cry. Her body contracted with a beautiful violence, trapping Aaron inside her as his cock began to pulse. He called her name and thrust even more deeply, so that she felt the tip of his shaft butting up against the end of her, jerking softly in a way that was almost enough to bring her over again.

  Finally, when the waves began to abate, he collapsed on top of her, but his weight was comforting, not stifling. She luxuriated in the feeling of his hard body pressed so intimately to hers and his softening cock still buried inside her, no longer able to remember what it was that had worried her before.

  It was probably nothing of such great importance.

  “I’ve never felt like that before,” Aaron said, his voice as soft as the kiss he pressed to her cheek. “You have liberated me.”

  Liberated. There it was again, that sentiment that brought all of her concerns rushing back. She had wanted her freedom from imprisonment, but surely there was no way her magic could have interpreted that to mean that the king should fall madly in lust with her?

  Could it? It didn’t make sense.

  Of course, her magic had a way of twisting her words to suit its own purposes.

  “Aaron,” she whispered, still surprised by how easily his name fell from her lips. “Do you know about the spell I cast for Princess Rosamund on her sixteenth birthday?”

  “I do.” Aaron pulled gently out of her body and settled beside her, propped on one elbow, his hand resting on her stomach in a way that was distracting.

  But that tender touch wasn’t one-tenth as distracting as the look in his eyes.

  Goddess, the way he looked at her, with such compassion, such caring. It was almost as if the man were in love with her as well as lust. But that was, of course, insane. He was a king, an experienced man, and beyond the foolishness of falling for a woman he’d bedded once and knew not at all. Only a fool would believe that the spark in his eyes was true emotion or hope that this man might feel the same way she felt, as if everything she’d longed for could be found in his arms.

  “Calliope?”

  “Yes?” she asked, breathless.

  “The spell you cast?” he urged. “What about it?”

  She blinked. How could she have forgotten so quickly? She had to hurry and explain before her thoughts clouded over again.

  “My wish for the princess was for her to always have a peaceful room of her own,” Calliope explained, hoping the example might help him understand the fickle nature of her magic. “I was seven and my mother and I had just moved to a one-room farmhouse. I never had a moment to myself so I thought that would be a wonderful gift for the princess, to always have a place where she could think her own thoughts in peace.”

  “It seems like a good gift.” The look in his eyes told her he already knew the conclusion to this story, but his touch encouraged her to go on.

  “Yes, well, somehow, my magic understood that to mean Rosamund should be lulled into an enchanted sleep, walled up in a tower, and protected from intruders by a castle determined to enchant and entrap all who dared to enter.” Her forehead wrinkled. “Only the thirteen fairies invited to the party made it out of the castle that day. Everyone else was spelled into an enchanted sleep.”

  Aaron frowned. “It’s a sad story, but you were very young.”

  “I know, but I felt terrible all the same. Before we escaped, I tried to modify the spell so that the princess could be brought back to life by the kiss of a prince who wanted to marry her. I assumed that would happen soon. She was so lovely and a princess and I had read too many romantic stories.”

  “You tried to make things right. It was an admirable thing to do.” He paused, a sadness creeping into his eyes. “I assume you know about my brother.”

  “I do, and I am so very sorry.” Calliope reached up to cup his cheek in her hand.

  The way he closed his eyes and pressed into her touch almost tore her heart from her chest. How she wished this instant connection between them was real and that the tenderness she felt for this stranger was something that came from her heart, not her capricious magic.

  “Then will you help me free him?” Aaron asked. “I’d like to leave for the Beauvielle castle tomorrow if you are able to travel. With my sword and your magic I believe—”

  “I will go with yo
u, but I cannot try to free your brother with a spell. My magic is too dangerous, too unpredictable,” Calliope insisted, guilt slicing through her chest.

  She’d liberated herself with magic, why not his brother?

  “And see what’s happened with that, Calliope,” she mumbled. “You’ve probably already enchanted one member of the—”

  Calliope broke off with a shake of her head.

  She’d spoken aloud! A quick glance at the king found him eyeing her with the wariness that always crept onto people’s faces when they realized she was not always in her right mind.

  Shame heated her cheeks as she sat up, crossing her arms at her chest as if hiding her nakedness might conceal other vulnerabilities as well.

  “Calliope, are you well?” His voice was so caring, so concerned.

  It made her hate herself all the more for poisoning his heart with false love. She hadn’t intended to hurt anyone, but that didn’t keep the damage from being done.

  “There was a healer,” Calliope said softly. “She gave me herbs. If that wasn’t a dream, I’d like some more, please.”

  “Of course,” he said, showing nothing but concern for her as she shrugged on her robe and he his clothes.

  As they left the bathing chamber and walked through the elegant halls of Torinth Castle, he didn’t mention his brother again—another sign that he wasn’t in his right mind. She might not know him as well as her infatuation with him would have her believe, but she knew enough of his reputation to know he was single-minded when it came to achieving his goals. The fact that he had been so easily diverted from his course by a show of mental instability from a woman he’d known less than an hour proved that he was under fairy enchantment.

  Now the only question that remained was what could Calliope do to remedy the situation?

  For remedy it she must, no matter the cost to her own foolish heart.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Aaron

  They had been travelling for three hours and Calliope hadn’t said a word. Not when the pavement gave way to gravel or when the gravel gave way to a dirt road passable only on horseback. She had acknowledged his comments with a nod or a smile, nothing more, until he began to dread the sound of his own voice.

  It was making Aaron feel foolish—trying to court a woman who clearly regretted their moment of passion by the bath—but still he tried, yet again, to lure her into conversation.

  “We’ll leave the truck here.” He pulled to the edge of the dirt road, leaving the key in the ignition. They were only a few miles from his country home, so there was no need to worry about the vehicle. They wouldn’t encounter even remotely dangerous territory until they had ridden several hours. “I’ve arranged for someone from my estate to meet us with horses a little farther down the trail.”

  She nodded pleasantly.

  “Are you hungry?” he asked. “Would you like to have lunch before we fetch the horses or after?”

  “Either is fine,” she said, opening the passenger’s door and alighting from the truck with the same grace with which she seemed to do everything.

  There, three words. Are you satisfied?

  Hell no, he wasn’t satisfied. Since yesterday’s interlude in the bath, nothing seemed to satisfy him. Not since Calliope had taken those damned herbs and lapsed into silence, depriving him of the chance to learn more about her now that she was awake.

  That’s how he felt, deprived, as if every second when they weren’t intimately connected was robbing him of something vital.

  “Fool,” he muttered as he slammed the driver’s side door and reached into the bed of the truck to grab the camping pack and picnic basket.

  He was a fool and as lovesick as the brother they were going to rescue. At least Johann had the excuse of youth. Aaron was nearly thirty and had no good excuse for falling for a woman he barely knew. Yes, the sex had been phenomenal, but sex was just sex. It wasn’t a reason to feel so connected to a stranger, to feel like the color had gone out of the world because she was troubled by something.

  “Would you like your shawl?” he asked, noticing the way she rubbed her bare arms as they set off down the road.

  She shook her head no and shot him the smallest of smiles.

  “My coat, then? I’m not cold.” Aaron started to shrug out of one sleeve, but she stopped him with another shake of her head and a light touch on his arm.

  Even that small touch was enough to make his cock thicken, but what else was new? Looking at her, smelling her, watching her brush her hair back over her shoulders—the slightest provocation had him hard enough to break glass. It was maddening and probably the reason he finally lost control.

  “What is it, Calliope?” He dropped the basket and pack to the ground and turned to face her. “You seemed willing to talk to me yesterday. Is bedding you the only way I’m to have the pleasure of your conversation? If so, shall I take you here in the road? Will that earn me more than a smile or a nod?”

  The shock in her wide blue eyes immediately made him regret his harsh choice of words. “I—I’m sorry,” she stammered. “I just…I thought it would be best.”

  He sighed. What was wrong with him? He had never spoken that way to a woman, not even those he paid for their services, let alone one who he cared for beyond reason.

  Beyond reason.

  There’s your problem, man. Lose your heart and your reason follows not long after.

  “No, I’m sorry. Please, forget I said anything.” After a moment of strained silence, he picked up the bags and started back down the road, ashamed of himself for acting like a madman.

  No, it was worse that that. He was acting like a teenaged girl, upset because the object of his affection wasn’t expressing her feelings.

  How far the manly had fallen.

  “I didn’t mean to make you angry.” Calliope’s voice was cautious, as if she were accustomed to dealing with people who lost their temper.

  And he had assumed he couldn’t feel any worse.

  “You didn’t. It’s my fault. I’m out of sorts.” He took her hand, resisting the urge to bring it to his mouth and kiss the tips of each of her fingers. “Please, forgive me. I shouldn’t have spoken to you that way.”

  “You’re worried about your brother. I understand.” She smiled, and his chest grew tight.

  How could he have come to crave her smiles so quickly?

  “And it was partly my fault,” she continued. “I just didn’t want to make a fool of myself.”

  “How could you make a fool of yourself? You have better manners than half the ladies in my court.” He hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off of her at dinner last night. Even the way she ate her soup was like a dance, a sensual celebration of movement that had captivated every male at the table.

  “My mother insisted I learn how to behave in case we were ever invited to serve at a royal court,” Calliope said. “Not that we would have been, with my magic being so unpredictable and my…strangeness.”

  “Your strangeness?” he asked, frowning. “I don’t understand.”

  “That’s why I try not to speak too much if I can help it.” She blushed pink across her cheeks. “There’s less chance of talking to people who aren’t there if I don’t talk much to begin with.”

  “I see,” Aaron said, wanting to throttle every person who had ever made her feel shame over something beyond her control.

  The castle physician had explained Calliope’s condition the night before. It was a malfunction of the brain—slightly more common in the Fae than humans—that could be kept at bay with a mixture of herbs and low stress levels. There was absolutely no reason for her embarrassment. If anything, the worsening of her condition was Henri’s fault for abducting her and subjecting her to miserable living conditions.

  Hell, it was a wonder she wasn’t raving nonstop after weeks in a dungeon. Just thinking of how she’d been treated was enough to make him want to strangle Henri with his bare hands. Despite the advisor’s pique over losing the chamber
s that had been his for half a century, it was best that Henri no longer lived in the castle. If Aaron had been forced to lay eyes on him on a regular basis, he didn’t know if he would be able to keep his anger in check.

  She shrugged uncomfortably. “Yes, well, that’s why—”

  “I have an aunt who can’t eat cake unless she drinks a special tea beforehand.”

  “Oh?” She blinked. “Really?”

  “She was born with an intolerance for sugar. Even with the tea, she can only eat dessert occasionally.”

  “How sad,” Calliope said, eyes wide. “I can’t imagine. I can’t resist dessert. Especially cake. If I’ve got a cake fresh out of the oven, I’ll have a slice for breakfast, a bit more after lunch, and by the time bedtime comes around I’ll have convinced myself a sliver before turning out the lights won’t hurt.”

  Aaron smiled. Even the way she talked about cake made him want to snatch her up and kiss her breathless.

  “Exactly,” he said. “But we don’t think anything of her calling for the tea before the dessert course.”

  “And why should you? I mean—” She broke off as she stopped and turned to stare at him. She took a breath, but then stopped and stared a bit more. She took another breath and held it before blowing it out through her pursed lips with a shake of her head.

  He was beginning to think she had misunderstood him when, finally, a smile stretched across her full lips.

  “You are as kind as I thought you’d be.” Despite her smile, she looked on the verge of tears as she stood on tiptoe to press a kiss to his cheek.

  Aaron slipped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer, turning his head to catch the lips that had warmed his cheek. She made a soft, eager sound as their mouths met and opened to the sweep of his tongue, meeting his slow thrusts with languid, teasing strokes of her own.

  She tasted even better than she had yesterday, so sweet and clean that his head spun and that feeling of intoxication returned. He wasn’t a man who indulged in drink, but he would gladly get drunk on Calliope’s kisses any time the opportunity presented itself.