The Prince With No Heart (12 page)

“It’s a magical lack,” he said. “My mother accidentally angered a powerful fairy, who cursed me before my birth. Whatever it is that allows human beings to love, I am bereft of it. That bastard Bojik could offer you more devotion. The hell of it is -” He struggled not to betray the sudden awful wrenching inside his chest. It felt like his ribs were cracking, but he owed her this truth. “The hell of it is, I’m relatively certain I love you anyway.”

“Augustin.” Though her eyes were kind, her breath came out on a snort.

“Don’t laugh at me. You’ve no idea how much this hurts. Never really understanding what other people feel. Never being worth what they are, no matter how terrible they are. You deserve a whole man, not a shell like me.”

“I’ve never met anyone who was less a shell.”

He could see she meant it. Her sincerity shone from her. He swallowed, not wanting to say the words he felt honor bound to utter. “I’m not sure I’m capable of fidelity.”

This at last gave her pause. “Is ... is there someone else you want more than me?”

“No!” he cried, the assurance raw. “Only you. Since we met, no one else has appealed to me.” The heart he’d never thought useful for more than pumping blood stuttered in his chest. A sense of marvel spread out from it. He hadn’t wanted anyone but her, not the breakfast maid, not the beautiful princesses of Llyr. “That’s never happened to me before.” Maybe his impulsive words had been true. Maybe he did love her. The problem was he knew he was flawed. Loving her in spite of that wasn’t good enough for her. He cupped the side of her upturned face, her cheek like velvet against his palm. “I don’t think I could bear it if I ended up hurting you.”

Violet put her hand over his, her thumb sweeping gently along its side. The tingles this sent streaking to his cock were a distraction he didn’t need. He forced himself to focus on her answer.

“I love you,” she said. In spite of everything, this kicked a thrill so strongly through him his knees threatened to buckle. “I have a heart that loves and admires you almost more than I can express. Even so -” She stopped a moment to pat his chest. “Even with my heart, I cannot promise I’ll never cause you pain. That isn’t what love is, at least not that I’ve seen.”

He’d never searched a pair of eyes as he searched hers then. Could she be saying what he thought? “Would you take me then? As I am? Knowing I might fall short of what you deserve?”

“You don’t fall short, Augustin. Someday I pray you’ll know that as unshakably as I do.”

Tears welled up in his eyes. He tried to blink them away, but a few spilled over. She smiled and tiptoed up to kiss him, her arms wrapping him tightly.

Augustin groaned and embraced her back. He meant to be gentle, but that just wasn’t possible. She’d moved him too deeply. He ducked his head and kissed her like a starving man, eager hands sliding under her flaming hair.

Oh, how she humbled him. His desire spiraled upward as her hands roved his skin, the sounds she groaned into his kiss blessedly hungry. She loosed his trousers with frantic fingers, pushing them and his underthings down his legs. They were naked together then, nothing between him and the consummation that obsessed him.

When both her hands curled around and stroked his erection, no force on earth could have kept his hoarse cry inside.

“Take me,” she said. “Be the only man I remember.”

Did she honestly think he’d leave after this? That he would take her to bed and not to wife?

“Violet -”

“Please,” she said. “I’ll die if you’re not inside me in the next two seconds.”

Her begging scrambled his brain, the throb of her voice doubling the ache in his cock. The time for talking was over, unless it was
please, yes, more
. He hauled her up his body, urging her strong curved legs to part for his hips. She rubbed her breasts from side to side on his light chest hair. Her face was against his throat, her breaths panting. He set his jaw to make himself remember what they both needed. As he strode with her to the curtained bed, his shaft throbbed against the cleft of her tight bottom.

It felt hard enough to hold her up by itself.

“Please,” she said again, squirming desperately. “Hurry.”

Her sex flowed with wetness, painting his tense stomach. Groaning at the arousal that stabbed through him, he tumbled them with very little grace onto the mattress. Graceless or not, his mouth still found hers as his hand cupped her pubis hard. She was so wet she squelched when his grip contracted. Violet arched into his hold, clearly loving how his thumb dug through her delicate folds to work her swollen pearl up and down.

“Don’t do that,” she gasped even as her body thrashed in encouragement. “I want you ... inside me ... when I come.”

His body moved before his thoughts could catch up. He was over her, panting, kneeing her thighs hastily apart. Her hand wrapped the part of him that hung, thick and shuddering and crazed, nearly parallel to his belly. Her thumb rubbed the generous precum around the head. Pleasure as sharp as sparks from a flint shot along his nerves.

“Yes,” she crooned. “Give me
this
.”

He pulled her hand away, dragging it and its partner beside her head. The pillow and her gorgeous spill of hair cushioned the fists they made together. His tip nudged between her folds, not yet lined up at her gate. He tilted his pelvis the few degrees it needed for the blunt head to stopper her. The heat that welled around him drew his balls into knots.

“Violet,” he warned, wracked by such unholy lust he could hardly speak through clenched teeth. “I’m the ... only man who ever ... is going to give you
this
.”

Her eyes went wide a second before he shoved. He couldn’t hold back. He had to claim her completely or lose his mind. She let out a soft cry of shock as her maidenhead rent for him. Even then he kept going, pushing and pushing until he was seated balls deep inside of her. His neck arched with pleasure, knowing he’d hurt her but helpless not to feel good. The tight lush clasp of her around him surely had to be heaven.

“Good Lord,” she gasped a bit unsurely.

His lungs heaved in and out like a cantering stallion’s. He needed to move, to plunge in and out with the rut that was driving him. He’d spill oceans inside her pussy. He’d fuck her and fuck her until she screamed with pleasure.

Wait
, he ordered his twitching body.
Wait until she’s ready
.

She held his hands very tightly, their fingers wound together. He’d bowed his head, overwhelmed by the bliss of being inside her. Now he lifted it to look at her.

She was very flushed, her lips softly swollen from his kisses. Tiny sparkles of perspiration shone on her brow in the candlelight. He had an inkling not all of them were from pain.

“Augustin,” she said, her pupils nearly swallowing her irises. “I can feel your pulse beating in my quim.”

He had to smile at her wonder, to kiss the two cinnamon freckles on the tip of her nose. “I feel yours too, sweetheart.”

She wriggled, just a little, and nearly took his head off with ecstasy. “I think I’d like you to move now.”

He moved, and gasped, and then they both were slamming wildly into each other. This had to be the sweetest drug ever invented. The sex became a battle, each of them needing it so much. She was bruising him with her hips, and he’d never felt anything so wonderful. He had to tear their hands apart so they could hug each other, so they wouldn’t thrust so desperately in and out that her pussy disengaged from his prick. That would have been intolerable, as unthinkable as not bringing every ounce of strength to bear on fucking each other.

They rolled - him on top, then her - grunting like maddened animals. He loved watching her ride him, his hands greedy on her breasts, her nipples tight hot stones.

“I can’t come,” she moaned, her hips swiveling and thumping. “Oh God, but it feels so good.”

He shifted his angle, trying to find the spot, the friction that would push them both over. It didn’t seem to exist right then, though the pleasure of pumping into her boggled in its intensity. Adoring it as much as she did, he dug his fingers into her slamming hips.

“You,” she panted. “You on top. You’re stronger than I am.”

He rolled her before she finished asking, pushing her beneath him to do the work they fervently needed. They lay sideways along the foot of the bed, ropes creaking wildly with every thrust. Violet’s hand slapped up to grip one turned mahogany post, to keep his extremely determined thrusts from skidding both of them off the edge.

“Ah,” she cried as he took advantage of the new position to go faster. “Yes ... yes ...
Augustin!
”

The muscles of her sheath clamped down as she screamed his name. His mouth stretched to scream as well, but all that came was a gasp for air. His balls were trying to turn inside out. Completely out of control, he shoved as deeply into her as he could. His orgasm erupted. As it did, his voice unlocked on a moan, the relief so welcome it was painful. The oceans came, jetting into her, forever marking her as his. Violet sagged beneath him while he spumed, hands gently petting back his hair.

“I can’t stop,” he whispered against her ear. It was true. His cock was one raw nerve from his climax, but his hips wouldn’t stop moving. He needed more. He needed her.

Her hands slid down his sweating back to his rear. When she squeezed its muscles, he hardened up all the way again. Feeling this, she nipped his earlobe.

“Don’t stop,” she whispered as hot as fire.

He groaned and rolled her on top of him.

She smiled down at him, both hands braced on his shoulders, hair spread like a scarlet tent around them. It should have tangled or caught beneath him, but perhaps their joining had awoken new magic gifts. She certainly was resilient. He didn’t seem to have hurt her any more than she’d hurt him. That realization made him want to groan louder yet. If he couldn’t hurt her, this delirium never had to end. Her breasts swayed as she rode him, her motions gentler now but no less wonderful.

“I love you,” she said, arching down to kiss him.

He slid his hands up her front, caressing those beautiful silken hills. With the tip of each index finger, he circled her cherry-ripe nipples. The peaks were so sensitized she twitched and creamed at the light pressure.

When he spoke, his voice was as thick as smoke. “I notice you didn’t ask Bojik to remove your curse.”

“I notice you didn’t remind me to.”

He sat up so that she was riding him from his lap. “Maybe I secretly hoped we’d end up here.”

She wagged her brows at him. “Maybe I did as well.”

Happiness suffused him at her teasing, the emotion so sharp and pure he knew that if he never felt it again, he’d always remember it. In every way she was prepared to be his equal, though at the time she’d parted from Bojik, she hadn’t known Augustin would stay. Then and there, he made himself a promise. For her, he would learn to love - not by halves, not in spite of his broken state, but as completely as any human being ever had. In that moment, he couldn’t doubt he’d be true to her. She was the other half of his soul.

With the decision, the oddest sensation unfolded inside his chest. It began as a softer version of the wrenching he’d experienced earlier. It reached its culmination as the center of his being just seemed to open up. From the place that had once been empty, warmth rushed out in a sunburst. The sensation was so intense the rays should have visible.

“Why do you look like that?” Violet asked, touching the side of his face.

Augustin wrapped his arms around her. “I love you,” he said.

She laughed at his marveling tone, dropping little fairy kisses across his cheeks. To his delight, she groaned when his next thrust probed farther into her.

“Want to go faster?” he offered.

“Oh yes,” she agreed throatily.

They gave in joyously to the madness, coming shortly after with matching moans. Profound though the pleasure was, Augustin’s appetite lived on.

* * *

Violet felt like Eve with him hard and thick inside her, as if all the power in the world was hers. She could not mind that he hadn’t softened.

She was soft enough for them both.

“Sorry,” he said, fingers kneading the bruises he’d already put on her hips.

Violet didn’t mind them either. The slight pain felt good to her. Apparently Bojik’s curse gave her a strength to match her desires. She stroked his hands with hers, then slid a caress through the fine gold hairs on his forearms to the bends of his elbows. He shivered, the little tremor running up his cock into her. She creamed around it, his excitement wonderfully catching.

“I’m not sorry,” she whispered.

His look turned smoldering, blue fire glinting as his hands slid to where his hardness went into her. Slowly, gently, his thumbs stroked the place their flesh became one. His thickness twitched inside her.

“Do you like that?” she asked. “Do you like seeing yourself take me?”

He nodded and, oh, she loved seeing him at the point where he couldn’t speak, loved how the blood washed into his face and his breath came more shallowly. She moved her hands behind her, gripping him just above the knee. He tensed, but she knew it was with anticipation.

“I think I can give you a better view.”

She lifted off him in a long tease, not all the way, just until the flaring rim of the head caught where she was tightest. The length of his shaft emerged from her body, his spent seed running out of her and down him. Violet liked watching that. Those blue pulsing rivers quickened more than her heartbeat. His thumbs rode up his veins to touch her. She pushed down and shuddered at the feel of him gliding in. He filled her enough to stretch.

“Again,” he rasped. “I want to see that again.”

She obliged him and herself, leaning farther back and tightening to give him more pressure.

“Again,” he said, his voice darker.

She sank down and rose even slower than before.

“Christ,” he breathed. “You’re creaming down me. I’m going to lose my mind.”

To her surprise, he lifted her off him, pushing her back onto the blankets and pulling her knees apart. “I
have
to do this,” he said as he bent forward.