Fantasyland 03 Fantastical (18 page)

“I’ll be okay,” I said quietly.

His eyes held mine as he murmured, “There’s
my future queen.”

Oh man!

He clicked his tongue against his teeth and
Salem proceeded. I turned forward again. Aggie chirped, “Cora, are
you sure you’re going to be all right?”

“Yes, Aggie, no worries,” I whispered to the
bird.

Tor’s arm gave me a squeeze and his thighs
gave Salem a squeeze. The horse moved gracefully from a trot, to a
canter, to a gentle gallop.

And Bellebryn got closer and closer.

Magical

I stood at the balustrade of the vast patio
jutting out from Tor’s rooms in the castle and stared at the now
dark sea filled with its ships, their lights casting long
reflections across the water.

I was brushing the moisture from my hair
after having just taken a hot, gardenia scented bath in a huge,
oval, ivory marble bathtub.

Tor’s rooms were the shit. In fact, his
entire castle was the shit. In fact, his entire princedom was the
shit. If it was amazing from the outside, it was doubly amazing on
the inside.

I’d made it through the village (which was
relatively abuzz) while sitting atop Salem and held by Tor. Nearly
everyone we saw turned and looked, smiled delightedly at Tor and
dropped into bows or curtsies.

If their eyes fell on me, though, their
faces became curious, which was okay, or they closed or went blank,
which was not so good.

I did my best to rectify Cora’s reputation
and smiled as bright a smile as I could pin on my nervous face. But
the entire ride up the winding cobblestone street I clutched Tor’s
hand.

Upon our arrival at the castle everything
went completely out-of-control. Tor’s servants, not knowing he was
coming home, descended instantly in a tizzy of excitement.

Watching them, it was clear he was
well-liked and completely respected.

It was also clear, when their eyes hit me,
Cora was not either of those things.

That didn’t matter. Aggie and I were swept
away to Tor’s rooms (when I would have liked to have had a tour of
the castle, though I didn’t share this desire). I didn’t get a
chance to do anything but catch his eyes, see him lift a chin in an
“it’s going to be just fine” gesture before I was away. And I
didn’t get the chance to say word one before I was divested of
Aggie and led into Tor’s suite.

I quickly learned that Tor’s servants had
gone all out when Cora last visited and even though she was there
for a short time and had not come back, they kept things prepared
lest she returned.

Therefore, she had clothes and toiletries at
her, and now my, disposal.

I wasn’t fond of the scent of gardenia (it
was pretty enough, but too strong) but I didn’t share this either
as a meal was silently served (the first I did not have with Tor in
ages, nevertheless, it was scrumptious, with rich sauces and lean
cuts of meat, and I was amazed they threw it together on such short
notice), a scented bath was drawn and delicate underwear and
nightclothes were laid out for me.

They had towels, not made of terry, but of
thick, soft, absorbent material that they heated on racks by a
fire. They didn’t only have bath oil but also soap, shampoo, and,
get this, conditioner. (Hurrah! No more frizz!) They even had
straight blades so I could shave my legs and armpits (this I did,
but very carefully, straight blade razors were more than a little
scary but I succeeded in nicking myself only once).

The whole place was awesome – if I didn’t
allow myself to think of the fact that the four woman who danced
attendance on me didn’t meet my eyes, said barely anything and
treated me with unfailing courtesy if not an ounce of friendliness
no matter how I tried to catch their eyes and give them a smile or
engage them in conversation.

They left me to my bath; I allowed myself to
luxuriate in it, letting the hot water soothe the kinks of the long
ride out of my muscles. I got out, toweled off and turned to my
newest outfit.

The city, castle and rooms were awesome. But
the underwear, nightgown and robe were more awesome…
by
far.

Not shorts or drawers, laid out for me were
actual panties made of pale yellow silk edged at the bottoms with
lace. They fit a bit snug (Cora of this world definitely weighed
more than a few pounds less than me) but they still looked
fantastic.

And the nightgown and robe were to-die-for.
A soft peach silk, thin straps, fitted simple bodice and a flowing
skirt that went to my ankles. Luckily the skirt was flowing but, as
with the panties, the bodice and hips of the gown fit snug
(clearly, the other Cora was also a cup size smaller than me too).
The robe was a matching sheer chiffon with a wide satin sash.

They felt great and even snug looked great
and were relatively comfortable.

So there I stood, brushing my hair with the
silver-handled brush Cora had left behind, the scent of gardenia in
my nose, the lamps and candles flickering behind me in Tor’s
bedroom (which was awesome too, decorated in royal blue, silver,
black and charcoal gray, it had a mammoth, curtained four-poster
sitting smack in the middle of the colossal room, handsome
dark-wood furniture, comfortable looking, plush sofas and chairs
scattered around, gleaming ivory marbled floors that were made less
cold by thick, intricately woven rugs littering them and warm
blue-painted walls) and I stared at the view. There was incense one
of the maids set to burning that smelled of sandalwood which
mingled nicely with the gardenia.

I was brushing my hair, taking all of this
in and I was thinking Princess Cora Goode Hawthorne was a total,
freaking idiot.

Sure, her house and the area surrounding it
were gorgeous but this, all of it, including the man that came with
it…

Total. Freaking. Idiot.

I heard a noise, turned to face the room and
stopped dead.

Tor was walking through the room completely
naked except for a black bathsheet fastened loose around his
hips.

Holy freaking
crap!

With an unsteady hand, I set the brush on
the balustrade and stared.

I’d seen his chest but that was it. I knew
he had great thighs and he was hard everywhere but now I saw he had
great calves and the indentations around his hips, the definition
of his abs, the veins drifting up his belly and down his forearms
and biceps, his jaw cleanly shaven, his long-ish, black hair wet
and slicked back.

Yowza!

I tore my eyes from him to see he’d come
through one of the many doors that led off his bedroom (I hadn’t
explored because I thought it was rude and I should ask but by the
time I could, I was alone).

What I knew was, it was not the bathroom
door.

Where had he bathed?

In his bathsheet he walked right out onto
the patio and, honest to God, he looked straight out of the movie
with the candlelit room behind him, the wispy, royal blue curtains
blowing in the light breeze and him being so damned
hawt.

I struggled to find my voice, found it and
asked, “Where did you bathe?”

His head jerked and I belatedly noticed he’d
been staring, quite intently, at my body and my words startled him
out of a reverie.

His eyes cut to my face and he answered, “My
bath.”

“You have a bath?” I asked as he got
closer.

“Yes.”

“Is it somewhere else in the castle?” I
enquired, thinking that was weird and also thinking of him walking
the vast halls of his home in a towel and leaving swooning maids in
his wake.

“No,” he replied, stopping in front of me,
his big hands going to my waist. “I have a private bath and you
have a private bath. They’re separate. I used mine…” his eyes slid
over my wet hair, “and apparently you used yours.”

We both had our own bathrooms?

Whoa. Cool!

“Cool,” I smiled up at him.

His hands slid up to my ribs. “Have you
eaten?”

“Yes, have you?”

“Yes.”

“The food was really good,” I informed
him.

“Excellent,” he replied. “Now get in my
bed.”

I blinked. “What?”

“If you don’t want me to take you on the
balcony, you need, right now, to get that beautiful arse of yours
in my bed.”

My belly dipped and my knees went weak.

Uh-oh.

“Tor,” I whispered and his fingers bit into
my ribs as his body edged an inch closer.

“Now, Cora,” he ordered low.

“Um…”

“I said now.”

I placed my hands lightly on his biceps and
suggested, “I think maybe we should take a few moments to discuss
where this is going, um… between you and me and all of the
ramifications of that, um… considering, you know, that I might be
catapulted back to my world at any time.”

“And, sweets, I think you should decide how
much you like those charming garments you’re wearing for, if you
don’t move toward my bed in three seconds while discarding them,
I’ll be ripping them off you.”

Heat hit my cheeks
and
between my
legs.

Uh-oh!

“Tor,” I whispered, “this is getting
complicated. We need to talk.”

“One.”

Oh dear.

“Honey, we might be making a huge –”

“Two.”

I stared up at him and I knew by the
determined look on his handsome face that he was, well…
determined.

And I had a strong suspicion that when
Prince Noctorno was determined to get something, he got it.

And that would include me.

And try as I might, in that instant, after
the last four days, I couldn’t find it in me not to give it to
him.

Therefore I begged, “Please don’t rip my
clothes. I like them a lot.”

“Three,” he replied, I braced but he didn’t
rip my clothes off. He dipped a shoulder and then I was up and he
was stalking to the bed.

Oh God. Now what did I do?

I had to stall in order to set some ground
rules.

I didn’t struggle but wrapped my fingers
around his waist.

God, his skin was soft but his muscles were
hard and he was warm all over.

Shit!

“I’m not sure I’m ready for this,” I told
his back.

“Don’t worry, love, I’ll get you ready.”

Oh boy.

“I think we should… oh!”

I cried out because he tossed me over his
shoulder and I landed on my back on the downy covers of his soft
bed.

He towered over me, still as a statue except
his eyes which travelled the length of me, their path burning my
skin like it was a physical thing.

Oh God, I was in trouble.

“Tor –”

“Take off your dressing gown,” he
ordered.

My brows drew together. “My –?” I started to
ask.

“Take it off, Cora, or I will and I won’t be
gentle.”

Holy crap.

I got up on my elbows. “Tor!”

He pulled off his bathsheet.

I started hyperventilating.

I was not wrong. He had great thighs. And
there was something else about him that was great too. So great,
just looking at him in all his glory, I forgot to be nervous,
scared or wonder what future lay ahead of me.

I just wanted all of that for me.

And I was going to get it. I knew this when
he fell forward, his arm coming out to control his fall, his hand
landing in the bed beside me, him landing mostly on me.

But he held his body away and he did this in
order to untie the satin sash of my robe, doing it with a
non-too-gentle yank that jerked my whole body with it.

The heat between my legs intensified and got
wet.

Or
wetter
.

Oh my.

“Uh –” I started.

“Quiet,” he ordered, shoving the chiffon
aside.

“I think –” I tried again.

“Quiet,” he repeated then yanked the
nightgown up.

Oh… my.

“Um –”

He settled on top of me.

“I don’t like this scent,” he grunted, a
hand gliding up my side. “It reminds me of the you that you used to
be. Change it.”

“Uh, okey dokey,” I whispered and
shivered.

“Put your hands on me,” he commanded, his
knee pressing between my legs.

Oh my!

“Um, okey dokey,” I whispered again and slid
my hands up his arms and around his shoulders.

God, he felt good. He smelled good too.

Sandalwood.

“You smell good.” I was whispering but he
didn’t respond.

He watched as his hand moved in, over my
ribs, it started up, I held my breath then it changed directions
and trailed down my belly.

My breath came out in a rush and then it
came fast, uneven and heavy.

I wanted him. Now. God, I suddenly ached
with it.

He didn’t even have to kiss me.

“Tor,” I breathed, his eyes came to mine and
they were burning.

I started panting.

“If you’re not wet, right now, I’ll know,”
he growled, his voice deeper, rough, husky.

“You’ll know wh… what?” I stammered.

His fingers slid inside my panties, gliding
right through the heat of me.

My neck arched, my back arched and my arms
clutched his shoulders.

“Gods,” he groaned, pressing his hard cock
against my thigh. “Sodden.”

The fingers of one of my hands slid into his
hair and I pressed into his hand between my legs as I tilted my
chin down and tried to focus on him.

“I need you,” I breathed.

His eyes flamed. “Right now?”

I nodded. “Right now.”

He needed no more coaxing. He rolled
slightly to the side and gone were my panties. Then he rolled back,
I opened my legs as he did and his hips fell through. I lifted my
knees, his hands at my hips lifted them, his mouth came to mine,
not for a kiss but it felt more intimate having his heavy, warm
breaths mingling with mine and then I felt the tip of him.