Stealing Beauty Page 11

  I gasped as he spun us over, pinning me to my back with my legs spread wide around his hips. Rourke kissed me hungrily, grinding deep inside of me as he swallowed my moans. He pulled out of me, stroking his cock and letting the last of his creamy white cum spurt in thick ropes across my pussy. He growled, pushing his swollen head against my skin, smearing the hot cum across my skin.

  “Your pussy looks so fucking beautiful with my cum making it messy like that,” he groaned, making me whimper as he rubbed his cock over my clit and kissed me fiercely. He kept teasing my clit, stroking his still completely-hard cock before he pushed it lower.

  “And I don’t think I’m done with you.”

  I moaned as he filled me with one stroke, his throbbing cock sliding through his sticky cum, making it trickle out from where we joined and drip down my thighs. Wet, filthy sounds filled the room and he drove in all the way, both of us moaning as he ground against my clit. He pulled back, the stickiness of both of us clinging to his hips and his slick, glistening cock before he drove back in balls-deep.

  He grabbed my legs and pushed them high so my ankles were over his shoulders. I gasped as he drove his cock deep inside, his muscles rippling as he started to fuck me all over again.

  We weren’t slow the second time, or tender. This time, he fucked me, hard. I screamed in pleasure, clawing at his arms and moaning into his lips as he buried his cock in my tight, slick pussy over and over again, until all I knew was pure, unbridled pleasure. I came again, screaming his name and begging for more as his balls slapped my ass and his cock grazed over my aching clit. His lips found my neck, and when he bit and sucked the tender skin there as he filled me with his girth, the pleasure just kept coming.

  I came again, begging him for more as he fucked me hard and deep, claiming all of me as the pleasure rippled through me. He roared, driving in all the way as he suddenly went crashing over the edge with me. His cock throbbed deep inside of me as he pumped me full of his hot, sticky seed all over again. He pulled out, his muscles clenching as he stroked his cock. Hot, thick ropes of his cum streaked across my skin, landing in thick lines across my belly and my breasts and covering my pussy and thighs.

  He slid back inside, and this time, when he rolled us onto our sides, the two of us could barely move. We lay there, panting and slowly kissing as our heartbeats came back down to earth.

  “All mine,” my husband murmured into my ear, his powerful arms circling me and pulling me tight to him.

  “All mine,” I grinned back, grabbing him tight and snuggling into him. “So what happens now?”

  “You mean now that you’re my bride?”

  I grinned. “I love the way that sounds, you know.”

  Rourke chuckled. “Now? I’m not sure.”

  “I mean, you’re a prince now, you know.”

  He chuckled. “We’ll see. Whatever my lineage is, what I am is what I’ve made myself. And really, none of that stuff matters to me, so long as I have you.”

  “And you do,” I whispered, kissing him.

  “Then what else do I need?” he smiled, kissing me tenderly. “You as my wife is all the fairytale happy ending I could want, Princess.”

  “You know, you might have to become a real prince.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah, I’ve kind of taken a shine to the way you call me Princess.”

  I grinned as he chuckled and pulled me close, kissing me deeply until he took my breath away.

  “You’ll always be my princess. And my queen. And my wife, and my heart. You’ll always be my everything, Colette.”

  “I think I can agree to that,” I whispered my heart racing as I lost myself in those eyes of his. And when his lips found mine, I tumbled completely.

  He was right. None of the rest of it mattered. We’d found our fairytale happy ending, and each other, and in the end, that’s all that ever mattered.

  Epilogue

  Rourke

  I’d never believed in fairytales. After all, my life hadn’t been horrible, but then, I’d worked hard for what I had. There’d never been magic fairies, or spells, or curses, or pumpkins turning into carriages, or woodland creatures fucking singing or anything like that.

  But then I’d met Colette, and suddenly, everything I thought I knew about the world changed. And I very quickly started to believe in fairytales, because she was my fairytale.

  The day after the suitors’ ball was one that changed everything for me. It was a day that started my new life — not just as the man I’d been, but now as something more. A husband. An equal half of a greater whole. We spent the entirety of that first day in bed, just exploring every single part of each other, until we could barely move or speak. She slept in my arms that night, and I can say without hesitation, that it was the best sleep of my life.

  I always said I’d never been and never would be royalty, but life had other plans for me. For one, finding out who my mother had really been was both earth-shattering and incredible. Sitting down with King Lucian and learning about her past, and telling him all about her life as my mother was something I could never have imagined.

  But on top of that, a few weeks after we married, Colette’s mother met a man — and this time, she met the right one. Henry was still a younger man, but he was at least slightly more age appropriate than the money-hungry pretty boys a third her age who’d been using her all those years. Henry was good for Maryanne — a painter, and a dreamer. Henry was also sober, and through him, and through finally finding real, true love again, the queen found her own sobriety.

  But the queen also found that she no longer wanted to lead a country. Actually, I think she realized she hadn’t been up to the job for years. So she stepped down, which pretty much put Colette on the throne, if she wanted it. We talked about it at length, and in the end, I knew this was something she was born to do, and there was no way I was holding her back from that.

  So my princess became my queen, and by default — yep, you got it — I became king of Cordonne.

  …Hey, I always said I was never going to be a prince, so at least I got that right, huh?

  And the truth is, I came to love the position I got swept up in. I kept my business, and still ran it as my full-time position. But then, I was also by Colette’s side as she bloomed into the beautiful, kind, powerful, and incredible Queen I could’ve always told you she’d be. Through her leadership, and my restructuring of the country’s finances, Cordonne started to blossom again.

  We were frequent guests of King Lucian and Queen Jessica, and I quickly got to know my cousins, Isla, Imogen, and Ilana quite well. They and Colette became fast friends, and me and their husbands, who they’d met that very same night at the suitors’ ball did as well.

  Some of them, it turns out, I already knew. But then, perhaps that’s a tale for another day.

  All that matters is that I’d found the girl of my dreams, I’d made her mine, and I’d won her heart. And nothing was going to take that away from us.

  A love found, a kingdom inherited, and a crown upon my head.

  …Now how's that for a fairytale ending?

  The End.

  …Once again.

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  Beasting Beauty

  Beasting Beauty

  One taste of her sweet untouched innocence, and I’ll lose all control…

  They call me a beast, though I was a prince, once. I still am, even if I’ve spent the last four years shutting myself away from the world because of the darkness inside of me.
<
br />   But royal duty has left me no choice but to attend a “suitor’s ball” in a neighboring kingdom. Finding a wife is the very last thing on my mind, until the moment I lay eyes on her - the far too sweet, far too innocent, far too untouchable Princess Isla.

  One look at those big dark eyes and luscious curves, and I need to possess her.

  One taste of those lips, and I lose control of the beast inside.

  One touch of her soft, untouched body against mine, and she belongs to me.

  Forget that she’s off-limits. Forget that she’s never been touched. Forget the darkness hanging over my head and clawing at my past. I’m claiming this princess tonight.

  First, I’ll take her as my queen. Then, I’ll take her in my bed.

  Princess Isla’s unchained the beast, and I won’t rest until I’ve claimed her in every way I can.

  *Please note that each of the Possessing Beauty books are completely standalone stories centered around one couple, with no cliffhangers.

  Beasting Beauty is a quick and filthy modern twist on a fairytale involving a dark, utterly obsessed alpha hero and enough insta-love, kindle-melting steam, and sugary-sweetness to give you the vapors. If you love over-the-top, slightly unrealistic, and wildly dirty stories, this one’s for you! HEA with NO CHEATING!

  Copyright © 2017 Madison Faye

  All rights reserved.

  Editing: Sennah Tate

  Cover: Coverlüv

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations used for review purposes.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, organizations, actual events or locales is entirely coincidental. The author acknowledges the trademark status of products referred to in this book and acknowledges that trademarks have been used without permission.

  This book is intended for mature, adult audiences only. It contains extremely sexually explicit and graphic scenes and language which may be considered offensive by some readers. This book is strictly intended for those over the age of 18.

  All sexually active characters in this work are 18 years of age or older. All acts of a sexual nature are completely consensual.

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  1

  Isla

  I gasped as the corset top tightened, glaring at my sister in the mirror.

  “You did that on purpose.”

  Ilana grinned at me, her big blue eyes twinkling mischievously as she finished pulling at the back of the dress.

  “A little.”

  I stuck my tongue out at my oldest sister as she finished lacing up the back and stood back, appraising her handiwork.

  “Well, you can thank me now, because you look hot.”

  I made a face in the mirror, glancing at the pile of dark blonde hair balanced on top of my head, the perfectly applied makeup around my dark eyes and full lips, and the — admittedly — gorgeous gown that now flowed down from my exposed shoulders like a yellow and gold chiffon waterfall.

  Okay, yes, I looked fantastic. I looked beautiful. I looked poised. I looked put together, and regal, and like a perfect porcelain doll ready to be placed on a shelf. I looked exactly how a princess should look.

  Which is exactly why I frowned at what I saw in that mirror.

  I hated having to “look the part,” and I definitely hated having to go to things like the ball tonight.

  Our father, the reigning King of Avlion, finally acquiescing to our mother’s complaints, had finally agreed that it was high time for Ilana, Imogen, and I to start finding suitable matches for marriage.

  High time indeed.

  I was eighteen already, Ilana was three years my senior, Imogen two, and we’d never even been on a normal date. Because no, chaperoned, forty-person dinners, lawn parties, and balls don’t count as dates.

  But that was changing. King Lucian, our father and lord of our kingdom, was finally looking for eligible men of the right means and pedigree to marry his daughters, and tonight’s ball was our grand unveiling. And not just us, either. There were a number of eligible princesses that were now at marrying age who’d be joining us in this ridiculously antiquated function. It was silly. I mean, we did live in a kingdom, in a castle and all of that, but that didn’t mean we had to pretend we were in King Arthur’s time or something.

  Well, tonight we did, apparently. Tonight, we’d pretend we didn’t live in the age of the internet, and dating apps, and Facebook, and instead we’d spend the evening dancing with eligible princes, to a string quartet, in gowns.

  Welcome to the 21st century, right?

  And the other thing of it was, this whole princess thing was all lost on me. On Ilana though? Well on my older sister, it fit like a freaking glove. She had the long blonde tangles, the big blue eyes, the perfect waist-to-hips ratio, the dainty demeanor — all of it. She knew when to curtsey, when to “demure” her eyes, when to use the right titles, or the right serving forks.

  In short, she was the ideal princess. I mean, honestly, the fact that I’d never walked in on her having a singalong with woodland creatures actually shocked me.

  But me? Well, let’s just say I’d never mastered the curtsey and I had no idea which fork to use, for anything. Ilana fit the part — she played the role perfectly. But I’d known young the whole “princess” thing was going to be a sticking point with me. I preferred the library to the ballroom. I preferred bare feet to heels, jeans to gowns, and a quiet night curled up with a book to one spent twirling around with handsy, rich, pompous windbags trying to marry their way into my father’s titles. Not to mention my bed.

  Yeah, no thanks.

  “You two ready to go yet?”

  Imogen stuck her head into my room. God, that dress looked amazing on her. Chartreuse green with gold trim which played off her fire-red hair perfectly and made her emerald green eyes pop.

  “Oh, c’mon, Isla, maybe try smiling tonight?”

  I rolled my eyes at both of my sisters, doing my best to hide the grin. In spite of both of them being “perfect” princesses, I knew neither of them was thrilled about all this either. It wasn’t Ilana’s fault that she’d been born blonde, and and blue eyed, and knowing when to say the right things. Just like it wasn’t Imogen’s for being born taller than either of us, with crazy long legs, perfect cheekbones, and killer wavy hair. They just both fell into the role we all had to play a little more naturally than I did.

  “Can’t we just skip this, go lock ourselves in the media room, and watch movies and stuff our faces with ice cream all night?”

  “I am so down for that,” Imogen groaned, sinking onto the corner of my bed. “Tonight is going to blow.”

  Ilana groaned. “Don’t tempt me, cause I would totally blow this off if I didn’t think mom and dad would kill us if we did.”

  I giggled. “I won’t tell if you don’t.”

  “Isla, I think dad would notice if we weren’t there tonight.”

  I made a pouty face in the mirror.

  “Besides,” Imogen sighed. “On the bright side, this is dad actually letting us date.”

  “As if it’s the seventeen hundreds, sure.”

  Ilana laughed. “Oh calm down. It could actually be fun, you know. Yeah, there are some douchey princes out there—”

  “Some?”

  She grinned, rolling her
eyes at me. “Okay, there are a lot of douchebag princes out there. But there are some hot, nice ones too.” She sighed. “And like it to not, Iz, we are of marrying age. We can’t hang out in mom and dad’s castle forever.”

  “Watch me.”

  They both giggled, and Ilana shook her head.

  “Well, that’s happening, because that’s our role to play. And it’s not like you have any prospects.”

  “I do too.”

  Ilana’s brow cocked as she glanced at Imogen. “Oh, really?”

  I held my head high, avoiding both of their smirking eyes as I turned back to feign fixing my hair in the mirror. “Yep.”

  Imogen snorted. “Like?”

  “What?”

  She finally caught my gaze in the mirror and gave me a look. “You’re dodging the question.”

  “No I’m not.”

  “Fine.” Ilana shrugged. “So who’s the lucky man then?”

  I glanced down. “Prince Aaron,” I mumbled.

  “Speak up.”

  I signed. “Prince Aaron, if you really must know.”

  My older sisters exploded in laughter. “Prince Aaron of Londaria?” Ilana’s grin was huge across her face. “Isla, that’s four kingdoms over, and you’ve met once.”

  “And he was very nice,” I snapped back.