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From MINE - by Jill Noelle
"Good morning," he said, his words catching as she released him and sat back on her heels.
"Good morning, Michel," she answered him solemnly, but then flashed him a mischievous grin. "Did you sleep well?"
"Mmmm...come here, you minx." Michel grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled her down into his arms. "Yes, I slept well. For an entire hour."
She snuggled against him, soft and warm and incredibly desirable. Michel took her hand and brought it down between them. "I want you. Again."
"So I feel," she said, grasping his hard cock in her fist and caressing it lightly. "Michel, we have to talk."
"Later," he said, thrusting his hips into her downward stroke.
"No. Now." She stilled, but didnt release him. "It's morning, Michel. We only have a few days. You must begin my training."
It took a moment for her words to penetrate his lust-clouded mind, but when they did, he shifted away from her touch, rolling onto his side so he could face her. "If I found a way for you to avoid it, would you still go to the king?"
She averted her gaze, but nodded. "Yes. I have to."
A wave of anger and disgust drove him from the bed, and he paced away from her, clenching his fists as he struggled to control the violent impulses that raged through his body. He wanted to break something, anything, to pound his fist into the nearest wall or into the face of his liege.
"Michel, its my duty. You know I dont have a choice."
He turned, studying her silently for a moment, wondering if she could see the pain, the revulsion he felt at the thought of her with another man, any other man, let alone the depraved and sadistic lunatic who was their king.
"Last night," he began, and then stopped. He shook his head. Last night had been a dream, not to be repeated. "Never mind. You're right."
He returned to the bed, sprawling on his back, one arm thrown across his eyes. He couldnt, wouldnt, look at her. "Finish what you started."
Several moments passed, and then he felt her move closer, smelled her essence as she bent over him, held his breath as he anticipated her touch.
"Our king has very specific tastes," he told her, keeping his voice carefully neutral. "You must be boldly aggressive, and very creative in your lovemaking."
Again, her lips touched his chest, only this time her kisses were firmer, less tentative. Struggling to detach himself from the situation, Michel continued his monologue. "He will require you to speak to him. He receives great pleasure in hearing a woman express her desire to be with him, to hear what she has planned for their time together."
Another beat of silence, and then, "I want you."
She spoke the words in a rush, her voice cracking, and Michel sighed. "I'm afraid you'll have to be a bit more convincing, Brie. Come on. Tell me what youre feeling, what you want, what you'll do to me."
"I can't."
Michel moved his arm away from his eyes and found her once again sitting back on her heels. "Sure you can."
"No, I can't. I don't know what to say. I know I know the mechanics of it all, and I know what we did last night, but I dont know what turns a man on."
"First of all, you dont need to know what turns a man on. The only thing you need to worry about -- the only thing you need to learn -- is what turns the king on."
He took her hand. "Come here. Sit on me so I can feel your hot, wet pussy."
She straddled his waist, bracing herself with her palms flat against his chest. Michel wanted to reach out and touch her, to capture her breasts in his palms, to hear her moan with desire, but he pushed those thoughts away and focused on the task at hand. "Now move. Slide your ass back and forth and rub yourself against my cock."
Gabriella slid down, and then back, caressing him with her pussy, bathing him in her slick, hot juices. Her head fell back, her lips parted, and she released a soft moan. Michel stared, transfixed by her beauty, by the wanton expression on her face. His cock twitched, and he fought the urge to thrust into her, to bury himself in her heat and forget. About Beau, about kings and kingdoms and other people's suffering. Instead, he called on his anger, using it as a shield. "Now talk to me. Tell me my hard cock feels good."
Silence, broken only by her harsh breathing as she continued to move against him.
"Gabriella. Say it. Now."
She looked at him, staring into his eyes, and he caught his breath at the passion he saw reflected in her gaze.
"Your cock feels so good against my pussy. You make me so hot...so wet. I want you. I want to take your hard cock inside me."
Fuck. Michel cleared his throat. "Now lean forward. Offer me your breasts and tell me you want to ride me."
She drifted forward, bringing her breasts to his lips. Michel captured one puckered nipple between his lips, laving it gently with the tip of his tongue.
"Oh, God. I want your cock. I want you inside me, now, please." Her ass slid back, and she squirmed against him, whimpering softly.
Michel grasped her hips, lifting her roughly and then bringing her back down, impaling her on his hard shaft. He thrust upward, hard, and she cried out, digging her nails into his chest.
"Now ride me, Gabriella. Fuck my cock."
She sat back, lifting herself up slowly, then sliding back down, awkwardly at first and then, after a few strokes, setting a rhythm that left him breathless.
"That's it, baby." He reached to caress her breasts, molding them in his palms.
"Oh, Michel, your cock feels so good. You're so big, so hard." She increased her pace, bouncing up and down, her eyes closed.
Calling on strength he hadn't known he possessed, Michel lay still, allowing her to control the moment. Their bodies slapped together with each downward stroke, and her pussy grasped his shaft, tight and hot.
"Oh, God." She gasped. "Oh, my God."
Michel felt her spasm against him, wave after rippling wave as she found her release. He grasped her waist, thrusting upward to meet her. "Tell me, Brie. Tell me what you want."
"I want you to come inside me. Please, Michel, come. Let me feel it, hot and hard."
Her words threw him over the edged, shattering his control, and he flipped her onto her back. He captured her lips, pouring all of his emotions into a kiss, swallowing her cries as he slammed into her again and again. His vision went black, and then he exploded, pumping his hips, filling her with his seed.
Mine, he thought, as he collapsed on top of her, gasping for breath. "You're mine."
What did you say?
Michel shook his head, realizing hed spoken his thoughts aloud. He nuzzled her neck, breathing in the scent of woman that was uniquely Gabriella. A sense of sadness, of longing for what could never be, washed over him, and he pulled away. He rolled into a sitting position on the edge of the bed and reached for his pants. Drawing them on, he stood and buttoned them, then reached for his shirt.
