Forced To Kill The Prince Read online

  “I don't think you're going to find any of that here,” Aradin says, giving me a rather overt stare. “You are a strange one. Some might call you arrogant.”

  “I'm merely confident, my prince.”

  “Confident of what?”

  “Confident that I have seen all there is to see.”

  “Ah. But you haven't seen everything. You see the masks everyone puts up. So tell me, rude woman, why is it you reject the advance of someone like Ronar?”

  He's probing, so I give him a faint smile. “That one's like an oily rat. You need only speak two sentences to him to know all there is to know.” I'm a little worried I'm laying it on too thick. There's being bold and forthright, and then there's merely being an asshole. I'm afraid I've gone straight into the realm of asshole, and I'm burning all my bridges.

  “An astute character observation. And yet you've talked to me now, for far longer than he. What do you see in me?”

  “An annoying prince with the thrill of the catch in his heart. Yet he's oddly charming for that matter. I wonder how far I must go until I insult you too much, and you leave in a huff.”

  “You likely don't have to do much more. Since I suspect you won't be happy with anything presented to you.”

  “Not entirely true. Perhaps I am happy with you, but do not wish to admit it.”

  “Hmm.” Aradin leans close. “Then perhaps I'll need to do my best to discourage you instead. Are you a virgin, lady Keen?”

  Inwardly, my heart does a spasm of triumph. If he's steering the talk here by himself, then I can grasp the reins. Carefully. Lead him into the stable. “Is that supposed to embarrass me?”

  “You're not, then.” His blue eyes twinkle, and there's a darkness in them. “A virgin would have blushed, and found what I said abhorrent.”

  “Can one not be well learned, without needing to give away her blossom?” I cringe when I say the word. It's so... dumb.

  Aradin laughs. “Blossom? I wager you've had a few men in you. The way you move your body. It reeks of sexuality.” I find it irritating, in a way, with the casual way he lingers, as if he expects to fit into the space he stands. Then there's the arrogant curl of his lips, and a faint hunger in his eyes. Maybe that hunger is one of lust, but I'm not entirely sure.

  I smile at him. Then I lean close, to whisper in his ear, tickling the blonde hair there, “Just imagine the things I might know what to do, if that was the truth. Things a little princeling like you could never dream of.” A womanizer like him should slaver at the opportunity. At the tease I'm giving him.

  I take a slow inhale, breathing in the scent of him, smoke and sweat and ash. Dragons have a different odor from men. I inhale again, fast. It's a strange mix, but it suits him. It suits the aura he holds about himself. Then, before he can bite back with any comments, no doubt a degrading one, I simply walk away.

  Here's hoping I've played it right. If I stay close to him for too long, I'm needy. If I insult him too much, he won't want anything to do with me at all.

  Gods, I hate these games. I can't wait to be rid of the court bullshit once and for all. But for now, I have to work on Aradin. And it's likely I'll have to attend a few more court sessions before I can actually seize Aradin. It won't be a goal on the very first try.

  I think.

  But I suppose I'll have to wait and see for what else happens. I liked his patience, the predatory way he examined me, but giving me the room to speak anyway. I suspect once I do sleep with him, things might go a little slower. Or faster, depending on how well I ensnare him.

  I walk along to the center of the ballroom, and I see him watching me from the shadows, his blue eyes bright.

  Chapter Three

  The door slams shut. Prince Aradin glares at me with a greedy lust, his teeth bared in a kind of snarl, just before he lunges towards me. He seizes my hair in one hand, grabs the back of my hips with the other.

  “Let's see what you've got, Keen.” He growls and places his mouth upon my neck, and thrusts my body against him, so we're flush with one another.

  You could say we're not planning to wait very long before we get to the fun part. He cornered me and offered me a lift to his home. I accepted, of course, because his home is directly in the castle, which is where all the royal family live. I accepted under the pretense of being curious, and wanting to see a big castle for myself. We sort of bit and insulted each other along the way in that slow, strange dance of tongues. He asked me some more about Ronar as well, wondering how I knew that he had that cruelty about him, trying to prise additional questions out of me. His eyes kept drifting along my body, clearly picturing what it might be like to touch, to unbutton the side of my shoulders to reveal the bare flesh underneath.

  I also got the distinct impression that he most certainly liked redheads. Twice in that carriage, he reached out to touch my hair, and sniff it. Twice I accepted, although I always acted like he was being forward, and he should know that I'm a lady.

  We didn't go through the main entrance into the castle. We went through a concealed side entrance, bundling through a stairwell, and finally entering this room.

  I had intended to ask him, in a curt way, if he actually wanted to show me the castle at all. But with his lips upon my neck, his hands burrowing into me, I gasp and attempt to push him away.

  “You're being too forward!”

  “You came here with the full intention of getting fucked,” he growls into my neck. “Don't you try to deny it. You with your flirting, your attempts to drive me crazy with those glances, that way you lick your lips...”

  My heart hammers fast. Yes, I did come here with the thought in my head that I'd be fucked. Yet, when it comes to the moment, I'm struck craven. My confidence is barely manifesting itself on the surface. When I don't respond, even though I know he would appreciate some form of dominance from my part, he lets out a chuckle.

  “You think you can show me the time of my life? You?” He seizes me hard, picks me up, and throws me on the desk. The impact bursts the air out of my lungs, even though he partially softened the blow. I lie there, dazed for a second. He tugs my legs towards him, reached into the frill of my dress, and seizes the panties there. His eyes are twin holes of darkness as he rips off the panties. So much strength. I gasp. Frightened and aroused at the same time. My heart hammers in a staccato beat. He unbuckles his black pants and reveals a huge erection under it, which I gape at in surprise, just before he presses it against my entrance. I'm slick, wet from the games of earlier, from sitting next to him, from breathing in the strong scent that wafts off his body. I'm drunk on the sight of him, and I yell in pain and pleasure as he rams that organ into me.

  It's so huge, that I'm stretching. I'm barely able to handle it. He seems to enjoy my reaction as I yell and growl, shuddering as he begins to thump away. He has to hold onto my hips to stabilize me, and my legs sway in the air, still wearing those white stockings. My dress shifts with each of his thrusts as he dives into me, and the impact stings my thighs. My cheeks are blazing, my mind is aflame, and electricity licks up and down my body, curling tight just below my stomach.

  His fingers scratch into my rear, hard, and I feel the red bloom over my skin, and let out an enraged, aroused whimper. My voice comes out as a choked growl. “Harder.” When I lock my eyes with his, and he sees the lust consuming my expression, he lets out a groan.

  “I bet you've taken many men in you before, haven't you, whore?”

  My mind's struggling to focus, though the phrase seems a little off. I don't comment on it yet, even as he slows down to painfully squeeze my breasts. Now that I think about it, when I look at the room, it doesn't seem much like a prince's room. It's more like a servant's room, with only the bare essentials in it. And are those links on the wall, just above the bed, for manacles? Seeing those links sends a shiver of delight through me.

  “Fuck me harder,” I grunt, and I know I let the accent slip. Hopefully he'll take it down to just me being aroused.

  �
�Oh, I'll fuck you alright,” Aradin says, and he pumps harder, until I feel him shiver, and something hot spurts inside me. I expect him to stop, and I gape when I realize he's still going. He's not deflating at all. He continues to cause my entire body to vibrate, to shiver under his rough touch. “So hard that you'll be begging for mercy.”

  He takes out his length then, and I feel a huge gap inside me where he filled me up, and my thighs relax slightly. I lean forward in time to see him ejaculate again, and he's aiming directly to cover my nether regions. His fluid is hot, white with a tinge of orange in it, like fire.

  “How many times do you need to come,” I pant, “before that thing goes down?”

  Aradin smiles. “Four or five times. Dragon shifters have a lot packed in there.”

  Oh Gods. Four or five times? That's a lot of orgasms. He stalks over to me then, seizes my hair with his scalp, and hisses, “Suck me off, whore.”

  The talk thrills me, though I'm confused as to whether I should allow it to thrill lady Charlotte Keen, rather than urchin Charlie. I thirst for that thing to be inside me. I open my mouth and I take it in. He tests me, and his eyes narrow.

  Yes, he knows I've done something like this before. He thrusts as I suck, my tongue swirling over the sensitive tip. I reach to stroke his balls, until he thrusts so deep into my mouth, that my gag reflex kicks into action. I actually have a pretty good control of my gag reflex, but I've also never taken anything as big as him in my mouth before. He continues to thrust, and I make my throat relax, so I can take him in as deep as I can. I don't plan to let this prince choke me. He groans when I take it all, and arch my back.

  “Yes... you do have a talent, don't you, little whore?” I continue swallowing him hard and deep, until he finally withdraws from me. I expected him to come in my mouth, and I'm a little disappointed he didn't. My throat's a little sore, but the arousal is still strong within me. I want more. I thirst for more. He reaches now to take off my dress, wriggling me out of it until my pale, naked body quivers in front of him. His eyes glaze over, before he begins to rub himself. In a few quick jerks, hot, molten liquid spills over my breasts, my stomach.

  I gasp at how dirty it is, how animalistic and brutal he's being. He then lifts my naked body off the table and throws me onto the soft bed, which I bounce on from the impact. When he crawls onto the bed as well, I seize an opportunity to take control, because strangely enough, I feel like I've had no control at all during this. He took me like a whirlwind, and I've been running on the outer lane since. He's still clothed from the top, but when I try to take off his embroidered shirt, he stops me. He doesn't stop me, however, when I push him down, so I can straddle his length and then ride him. I must look like a deranged mess right now, wild and broken with lust, but it doesn't stop me from gasping as I ride him.

  He watches how my hips move with fascination, as I go with the right angle to hit that sweet spot inside me.

  I'm not doing a good job of this. I'm losing myself in him too fast. I'm forgetting about the mission, and just focusing on the feeling of being fucked. I enjoy the pain, the scratches he gives me. I enjoy the darkness billowing out of my skin, and his strange, white and orange lifeforce dripping down my front. Like he's claimed me. Even his dirty, twisted words send a heavy thrill inside me. Every now and then though, as I swallow him up inside me, I notice his expression turn unfathomable. It's not one filled with lust, with pleasure of the moment, it's something else.

  Before I'm able to come, and I feel my body begin to shake as the moment approaches, he finally intervenes. He lurches up and forward, causing my back to hit the mattress once more. His shirt flops into my face as he leans forward, and I hear the clank of something. Then, cold iron snaps around my wrist on one side. By the time I've registered it in my near climax haze, he's anchored both my hands in manacles, which are long enough to drape against the bed.

  “You're mine now, whore,” Aradin says, his lips turning cruel. Then, he plunges that length inside me, moving so fast that his hips are a blur. Because he's rapid, sometimes he hits my sweet spot, sometimes he hits an angle that hurts, but more often than not, he hits me just right. My orgasm rages through me. It trickles over my skin and contracts my throat, so that only a whimper escapes my lips. He slows down his thrusting as I come, just enough, and he says, “So how did it feel, lady Keen? Fucking my half brother.”

  The bliss that's bubbling through me makes it hard to focus. “W-what?”

  His eyes are dark, cold pits. “How did it feel, to have my bastard brother inside you, fucking you?”

  “I...” My thoughts are hazy, slightly panicked. “I don't understand what you're talking about.”

  “Don't lie,” he hisses, those eyes now wild. His blonde hair is caked in sweat. “I know my brother hired you. He's not smart enough to get past me, though he likes to think he is. He hired you to fuck me like the good little whore you are.”

  My heart twitches in terror, just before he thrusts into me again, hard. The terror and arousal mixing in me, along with that floating orgasm creates a bizarre cocktail. The bed creaks underneath us. He leans close as he fucks me, and says, “but his plan went wrong. You won't be killing me tonight, little whore. He won't be getting that throne. And I'll be getting myself a new slave.” He grins.

  Even with this, to my shame, a second orgasm builds up in me. I should be terrified that I've been found out, but his harshness, his... cruelty is turning me on. For some fucking reason. Even though I'm now trapped, my hands are locked, and I'm probably going to die.

  His hand presses against my throat as I come again, and he lets out a gasping laugh, then a grunt as he comes again into me. His fingers squeeze tight on my windpipe, and I see stars, before he lets go, and I gasp, sucking in air. My naked body is boneless at this point. My legs loll to either side, no energy left to support them.

  “You know,” Aradin says, his hand now running both my breasts, “I think I'll keep you around, little Charlotte. I'll need those secrets from your brain, anyway, but I think... I'd like to feel a whole lot more of you. Because you were right. You are a good lay.”

  He chuckles, doing up his pants again. I'm completely stunned as he then leaves me there on the bed, naked, chained, and goes back through the door, locking it behind him.

  Then, it all comes rushing into my mind at once.

  I've been found out. My disguise wasn't good enough. Maybe I fucked up with my speech to him after all. Maybe I seemed too eager.

  The dream of five thousand golden coin clatters out of my head, just like my sense of freedom, because I'm trapped.

  Trapped, with nowhere left to go.

  Chapter Three

  Well. I can't say I'm entirely miserable about what's happening right now. A part of me didn't want to go through with the assassination anyway. Yeah, I'm a great assassin. Even for five thousand golden coins, potentially plunging the entire kingdom into chaos for the sake of a bastard dragon shifter getting on the throne is not the best choice I've made.

  They did kind of sweep me along for it, though. Part of me is annoyed about that. Ganned insisted on it being me, solely because of the fact that I'm a redhead, and passably pretty. I was fairly talented as well, though my preferred marks were not highborn bastions of society. My marks were easier things than that.

  This was my first big assassination attempt, and I barely made it past the fucking door before I got hauled in. But not before the prince had his merry little way with me.

  The worse thing is, it's exactly something I would do as well. Let someone else think they have the power, then turn the tables on them at the last moment. Watch the realization sink into their faces as they discovered they've been outconned.

  There were signs, honestly. The way he kept asking about Ronar. To the point where I wonder if Ronar himself had set me up to fall like this. Probably not. Neither of us could have suspected that he knew. My cheeks redden when I think about the sex. I shouldn't have enjoyed that as much as I did. But perhaps I
'm just a sinful bag of pleasure inside, longing for these things to be done to me. I highly doubt I'll have so much fun from it again.

  I wonder when he'll kill me. A servant comes to visit me in the night, to help me relieve myself. He sees me naked, but doesn't react. Likely one of the dragon eunuchs they have in the castle. He has his wings unfurling from his back as well, because of his weak dragon blood, only allowing him a partial transformation, a permanent disfigurement. One wing is malformed, like a twisted branch protruding out of him. The other is like a pennant, broad with white cloth. Since I don't have my special dagger on me, the one old Ganned was supposed to give to me, I think I'll have a hard time trying to punch through this guy's flesh. If I'll even manage it at all.

  Maybe I could get a lucky strike in his eye, but he's obviously been trained for combat, and he's always careful with his distance and positioning to me. I'm placed back in the room and chained again, and let out a sigh against the bed.