Stealing Beauty Page 3

  “Would you like to see the stallion, Princess?” I growled.

  “No, thank you,” she spit back under her breath, her whole body saying otherwise.

  “I’m not sure I believe that.”

  She gasped quietly. “You can’t talk to me like this!” she hissed quietly.

  “But I think you like me talking too you like this,” I growled. My hand slid higher, pushing her gown up and letting my fingers tease over her bare thigh.

  And she moaned.

  It wasn’t loud, and it wasn’t overt, but fuck did that small little sound drive me fucking insane. My cock throbbed between my legs, my balls aching for release, and my heart skipping a beat as it fell from her lips.

  “Now I know you’re lying about wanting to see my stallion, Princess,” I growled lowly, making her gasp quietly. Her chest rose and fell quickly with her breath, and I watched as her bottom lip caught between her teeth. I took her hand and pulled it under the table to my lap, and when I rested it on my pulsing hard, thick cock, sweet little Colette whimpered.

  “This is how hard you have me, Your Highness,” I purred into her ear, my hand sliding back to her bare thigh. She moaned quietly again, her small hand resting on my thick erection. I slid my hand up higher, and higher, and her trembling and gasping little sighs became harder and harder to conceal. I didn’t care. I didn’t care if the whole fucking table knew how wild I was driving her, and how wet I was making her, right under their noses.

  But patience is a virtue.

  Suddenly, I pulled away, just before the knuckles of my hand brushed her tight, sweet, soaking wet and cotton-encased little cunt.

  Her breath came out in a trembling gasp, and her jaw dropped as she whipped her head around to stare at me. And I knew that look. It wasn’t anger, or scandal.

  It was fucking lust. Raw, barely contained lust. She swallowed heavily, her chest heaving as the flush bloomed through her cheeks.

  “Greedy girl,” I growled into her ear.

  “I was—” She glared at me, her eyes alive with fire before she suddenly, slammed her napkin down on the table and slid her chair back. She shoved her gown back down over her legs and stood abruptly.

  “Mother, may I be excused?” she muttered, making a point of keeping her eyes away from mine. I grinned at her little outburst, knowing it was just a show — knowing it just meant taking her, and having her beg me for it harder and deeper would only be sweeter.

  Maryanne frowned at her daughter’s outburst.

  “What? No, we’re still having dinner!”

  “I’m—” Colette turned and let her heated, pretend-angry glare land right on me.

  “I think I’m full.”

  Maryanne started to protest, but I stood, smiling at the table as I helped pull Colette’s chair out and took her arm, looking every bit the chivalrous gentleman, and not the barely contained beast that wanted to tear her panties off with my teeth and use them to bind her wrists behind her back as I bounced her up and down every inch of my rock-hard cock.

  “Not yet you aren’t,” I growled into her ear, making her gasp. “See you soon, Princess.”

  “Well see about that,” she spat back, swallowing thickly as her big blue eyes burned into mine.

  “I think we will,” I grinned back, holding back the growl that caught in my throat.

  Colette turned on her pretty little heel and strode from the room.

  “So, Rourke, shall we discuss the suitors’ ball?”

  I blinked, scowling momentarily at the interruption pulling me away from my Colette. I turned and smiled a plastic smile at Maryanne.

  “Yes, of course.”

  The suitors’ ball, being thrown by King Lucian over in Avlion was Maryanne’s idea of the ideal place for us to “announce” our marriage. It was a ridiculous — not to mention tacky — idea, seeing as the whole point of it was to find suitors for King Lucian’s three famously virgin daughters, Isla, Imogen, and Ilana. But Maryanne was adamant that Colette go, on my arm, of course.

  I smiled again at the queen before I turned and let my eyes linger on Colette as she made her way from the room. My gaze locked onto the sway of her hips as she walked, and my cock bulged at my pants.

  Princess Colette was going to be mine. Hell, she already was. Now it was just time to show this royal brat how mine she was.

  4

  Colette

  The second the banquet hall doors closed behind me, I ran. I ran all the way back to my room, my heart racing and my pulse skipping every other beat.

  Oh my god, who was this man? Who the hell was Rourke Cannon that he thought he could talk to me like that? More importantly, who the hell was I that I wanted him to? Who was I and where the heck had any of my sensibilities gone that him speaking those filthy things to me, and putting his hands on me, and making me…

  I slammed the door to my room shut behind me and sank against it, my pulse still galloping.

  Whoever he was, and whoever this insane version of myself was that he’d somehow lit inside of me, it didn’t matter. Whoever he was didn’t change the fact that I was absolutely soaking wet for him. It didn’t change the fact that every inch of my skin tingled with this aching heat that’d started on my knee, where he’d put his hand on me under the table. And I wanted to deny it, but the truth was, I’d wanted his hand to keep going. It was horrible, and I knew it was filthy and so wrong, but all I’d wanted back at that table was for him to keep touching me. All I’d wanted was his hand to keep moving higher until he’d gotten to exactly what he wanted.

  …Maybe that’s why I’d finally just run from the room like a crazy person, masking my pure lust for him under bratty, snide comments.

  Quickly, I grabbed my laptop and sank into my bed. I’d done it before, but now I was even more motivated to figure out who the hell Rourke was. Google gave me nothing though - only that he was obviously insanely wealthy, and that his company was involved with mining and drilling. Everything about him — the wealth, the cockiness, and the cavalier way he’d had me wrapped around his finger in seconds - made the case that he was just another rich playboy. But then, there was no evidence of that anywhere. No tabloid pictures of him with bikini models on a yacht somewhere, or living large on some tropical beach or in a casino or something.

  Nothing.

  I bit my lip and grinned before I rolled my eyes at myself. What was I, glad there were no pictures of him with other girls? Please, the man had player written all over him. Just because google hadn’t given me anything, that didn’t change who he clearly was.

  And this man was going to be my husband.

  I felt my face turn red again, thinking of his crude talking and his rough, yet completely panty-melting touch. Those hands felt so wrong touching me, and yet here I was craving them even now.

  I shivered as I stood, pushing the laptop aside and stepping into my walk-in closet. I slipped out of my evening dress, my skin tingling at the memory of Rourke’s hands on it. I squeezed my thighs together, biting my lip at the forbidden feeling that clenching them brought. Heat pooled between my legs, and I felt my pulse skip as I closed my eyes and let the naughty, forbidden fantasy of his rough hands fill my head.

  I reached for a big over-sized t-shirt for bed, but as the fantasy began to play out in my head, I let it drop. Instead, I slowly found myself moving back into my bedroom, and draping down across my bed. Heat pulsed through me as I pushed myself back into the comfort of my pillows. My hands skimmed down my body, sliding over my hips and my belly before sliding up to cup my breasts.

  Rourke.

  Arrogant? Filthy? Yes and yes. But also gorgeous, and so sinfully sexy in that forbidden, dark way that lit something wicked inside of me. I whimpered, my fingers teasing my nipples and sending shivers through me as I thought of his dark, smoky eyes, and that chiseled jawline. My hands slid down my body, and as I hooked my thumbs into my panties and started to peel them off, I imagined it was his hands doing it. In my fantasy, his hand hadn’t stopped under the dinner table. It kept going, his thick fingers skimming my pussy before he slid my panties down.

  I kicked mine away, and I whimpered contentedly as I lay back into the bed, spread my legs, and let my fingers move between them. I gasped as they found my slick, sticky wet slit, and when my thumb brushed over my clit, I moaned softly into the semi-darkness of the empty room. I let a finger ease inside, and as I curled it inside, I groaned quietly, arching my hips up and letting my clit rub against my palm.

  And I imagined it was him. I imagined it was Rourke’s strong, powerful, demanding hands playing with my little pussy and making my pulse roar in my ears as he spread my lips and eased a finger inside. There was something so damn sexy about his dark looks, and crude tongue, and the rough way he’d put his hands on me, that my body was aching for more of it even now as I played with my clit.

  My fingers moved faster, and I whimpered as I closed my eyes and let the fantasy take over. In my mind, he was pulling his pants open, and letting me see the huge bulge I’d felt in his pants. In my mind, he pulled me into his lap, letting me feel every inch of his thick cock against my eager slit — letting me feel every pulsing hard bit of him as I dripped my desire all over him.

  I gasped, my fingers rolling over my clit, and my hips arching off the bed as my body started to tense up. I moved my fingers faster, moaning louder and louder as the climax rushed up to claim me.

  “Now this is exactly what I’ve been waiting to see.”

  I shrieked, my hand flying to my mouth as I scrambled up the bed, kicking at my bed sheets as my heart leapt into my throat.

  Rourke.

  It was him, for real, and no longer in my fantasy, standing right there at the foot of my bed.

  Watching me. Seeing all of me.

  I suddenly went to yank the covers up over me, but his hand suddenly shot out and grabbed them, holding them fast.

  “Stop,” he purred, his eyes burning right into mine and his jaw clenching tight.

  And I did. For whatever reason, that deep, commanding voice of his touched something dark and hidden inside of me, and I stopped. I shivered under that gaze, my face bright red and my skin prickling into goosebumps under his intense eyes, seeing all of me. My legs curled under me, and my hands moved to cover my breath, but I didn’t pull at the covers.

  I swallowed thickly, meeting his gaze and melting under it.

  “Don’t cover yourself, Princess,” he groaned quietly, his eyes burning fiercely into mine.

  “You can’t—”

  “Tell you what to do? Yes I can,” he growled. His voice was so commanding, and so deep and velvety in my ears that it had me squeezing my legs together tightly.

  “And I think you want me to, Princess. I think you like me telling you what to do.”

  “That’s not true,” I lied, my voice soft and frail as I melted under his eyes.

  Rourke just smiled.

  “Spread those legs, Princess,” he purred.

  I blushed fiercely, my pulse racing as I squeezed my legs together and felt the thrill of knowing this was the first man to see me like this — completely bared and naked.

  Rourke turned and grabbed the heavy, high-backed chair from in front of the fireplace in my room — the one I liked to read in — and dragged it to the foot of my bed. He pulled his dinner jacket off, his crisp white shirt pulled tight across his broad, muscled chest and his sculpted shoulders. He tossed it aside and sat in the chair, his eyes never leaving mine as he steepled his hands.

  “Spread your legs, beautiful,” he growled quietly, the raw power and heat in his voice sending a pulse of need right through me.

  “Spread those legs and show me that pretty little pussy.”

  I whimpered, the heat pulsing between my thighs.

  “Keep doing what you were doing, Princess.”

  “I—”

  “Let me see that sweet, tight, gorgeous little slit. Let me see what’s going to be mine.”

  I gasped, a whimper falling from my lips as I shivered heatedly. And slowly, my gaze locked on his, I did what he said. I spread my legs, my skin tingling and my core tightening with raw heat and desire as I slowly exposed all of myself to him.

  My face beat bright red. No one had ever seen me like this. Not even close. And I knew this was wrong, and I knew I should have run screaming from the room. But there was no way that was happening. Not with the way he was looking at me like he wanted to devour me. Not with how damn soaking wet I was, and how much I wanted this. I wanted him to see me like this — to see how wet he’d made me.

  What the hell was wrong with me?

  “Touch yourself,” he growled, his eyes blazing. “Play with that sweet little pussy for me, beautiful.”

  I whimpered as I slowly let my hands drift down my body, my face bright red and my pulse roaring in my ears. This was so wrong, and yet I couldn’t say no. He was too captivating — too enticing, and too deep inside my head, pulling at my darkest fantasies and turning me into a gasping, blushing puddle.

  My eyes fell to his lap, and I bit my lip and moaned as I saw the huge bulge there. My hands drifted lower, over my belly and teasing across my hips, before I took a deep, shaky breath, and pushed them lower.

  Oh, God.

  The ecstasy flooded through my body as my fingers pushed over my clit, sending a shiver through me. I moaned quietly, my face flushed bright red in both embarrassment and desire as I rolled it under my fingers. My core tightened, and I bit my lip tighter as the pleasure rippled through me. I could feel how damn wet I was, and I knew he could see how dripping wet and slick I was from where he sat, watching me.

  I’d never even been naked around anyone like this. And yet here I was, touching myself as this gorgeous, intense, captivating man watched me with clenched jaw and piercing eyes. I felt so dirty, and so sexy like I’d never felt before. The pleasure roared through me, and when I moaned quietly, I started to lose myself in the forbidden heat of it all.

  Rourke groaned, his hand moving to his lap and curling around the huge bulge there. I moved my fingers faster as I watched with wide, unblinking eyes as he started to undo his belt, and then pull down his zipper. His hand reached inside, and slowly, he pulled his rock hard, huge cock out of his pants.

  My jaw dropped, and my pussy quivered tight as I rolled my clit under my fingers.

  Oh my God.

  His cock was gorgeous. It’s the only way I can describe what I saw, seeing a man like that for the first time. Huge, thick, pulsing, and throbbing in his hand as he slowly stroked his hand up and down. The thick, swollen head throbbed, and when a big pearly-white droplet beaded at the tip and then ran down his veined shaft, I moaned quietly.

  “You’ve never seen a man like this, have you?” Rourke growled, his voice tight as he groaned and stroked his big dick in time to my fingers rolling over my clit.

  I shook my head, whimpering a no as my mouth fell open. Lust roared through me, and my desire began to leak down my thighs and soak the sheets under me.

  “And no man has ever seen you like this, have they? No man has ever seen how fucking gorgeous you are when you’re touching yourself like this. No other man has ever seen how pretty that little pussy is.”

  “No,” I gasped, shaking my head and moaning as his words melted into my ears.

  “Good,” he growled fiercely. “And no other man ever will, Princess. This is for my eyes and my eyes only now. You are mine and mine only.”

  Rourke groaned, letting go of his big cock enough to start to tug at the buttons of his shirt. I moaned quietly, my eyes drinking him in as he slowly pulled it from his muscled torso. His grooved, chiseled muscles flexed, tattoo ink rippling across his skin as he tossed the shirt away. He slid his pants down, tugging them off and standing as my pulse roared through my veins. His body was gorgeous — muscled, hardened, and so beautiful as he moved towards me. His cock throbbed and twitched, hanging heavily between his muscled thighs as he moved towards the foot of my bed. He moved onto it, kneeling and slowly moving up the bed as my pulse beat faster and faster.

  “You’re to be my wife, Princess,” he growled quietly, his hand wrapping around his cock again, making my breath catch. “And when you are, this will be mine.”

  I cried out as he pushed my thighs apart, pushed my hand aside, and slowly ran his fingertips over my slick, soft pussy.

  Oh my God.

  No one had ever touched me there, and his hands felt like heaven. His fingers moved across me like silk, teasing my opening and spreading my soft, pink lips. He dragged one finger higher, and when it bumped over my clit, I whimpered so softly.

  “Fuck, you’re so fucking beautiful, Princess,” Rourke groaned, his thumb rolling my clit as his other hand stroked his thick cock. His muscled thighs pushed mine wide apart, my legs spread wide open for him as he gazed down on me.

  “No other man, Colette,” he murmured, his eyes locking on mine and making my heart skip a beat.

  I shook my head, moaning as he teased my body in ways I’d never felt before.

  Rourke groaned, his muscles straining as his powerful hand stroked his thick, throbbing cock. More of the white, pearly liquid beaded at the swollen head, dribbling own his shaft. A few drops dripped down onto my skin, making me whimper as his finger moved faster over my clit. I could feel the muscles of this legs tensing against my thighs, sending a thrill through me as he growled and let his gaze sear through me.

  My eyes landed on his cock and held there, my body shivering and my mouth watering as I watched him pump his big dick over me.

  “This will be yours, Princess,” he groaned, his voice tight. His thumb rolled my clit, making me cry out.

  “This is the only cock you’ll ever know. The only cock that will fill you up like nothing else ever would or will. The only cock that will fuck you the way you deserve to be fucked. The only cock that will fill that sweet little cunt with every drop of it’s cum and pump your womb full of speed.”

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