Mary Rayne

Trio of tales: erotically ever after

Red

Red, named because of the flaming color of her hair, walked into the dense, dark forest. On her arm, Red carried a picnic basket filled with all sorts of goodies for the evening. She was on the way to the house her grandmother willed her after passing away a month before. She thought a nice walk through the forest that surrounded the house would help ease the grief she felt due to her loss and remembering the good times she spent there in her childhood years.

A slight breeze blew through the trees, rustling the leaves. The birds perched in the branches above sang their musical songs. The fragrance of wild flowers floated in the air. The snap of a twig drew silence from the forest. Red stopped to listen, looking around at the thick foliage. Seeing nothing, she continued on her way only to stop again when the sound of another twig breaking sounded. This time she slowly turned in a circle.

Once turned in a complete circle she found a tall form standing before her. “Oh!” She gave a cry, her hand jerking to her chest where her heart was pounding wildly.

She’d not heard his approach.

Red’s gaze started at his booted feet, the tops tucked under the tight, black leather pants that hugged his muscular legs. Going further up, she found a black leather vest covering his chest showing a hint of chest underneath that was dusted with dark hair. Her mouth practically drooled at his powerful arms, their definition marked by tattoos on his biceps. His left arm was branded with the head of a gray wolf. His right arm brandished the full body of a wolf.

Red tore her eyes from the markings, moving them up his long neck to a chiseled jaw that held two days growth of hair. His lips formed a crooked grin. His eyes nearly took her breath away. As she gazed into them, she felt like she was drowning in the gold-flecked pools of brown. She’d never seen any quite like them, their color unique.

His hair was worn long, the dark strands, black as night, falling unruly around his face.

It finished off his wild and dangerous appearance.

“Where are you going my little pretty?”

Red nearly fainted with the harmonious low sound that drifted from his voice. It was hushed and husky, but its tone smooth.

“I…” Her voice cracked making her clear it before speaking again. “I’m going to visit my grandmother’s house.”

Red watched his heated gaze trail down her body before coming back up to meet her eyes. She suddenly felt uncomfortable with the outfit she’d decided to wear. The maroon skirt felt too short, it’s hem flaring out inches about her knees. The neckline on her sleeveless tan shirt felt too low-cut, her ample cleavage peaking out. Her calf high black boots even felt too tight under his inspection.

“What’s in the basket?” he asked.

Red licked her suddenly dry lips. Her eyes strayed to his lips, noticing the small scar over the right side of his top lip. She wanted to reach out and touch it, to trace his lips.

“Just some snacks for later.”

He nodded. “Well, I hope your visit goes well,” he said, with that irresistible half grin before continuing down the path.

Fifteen minutes later Red arrived at the small cottage that was concealed by vines and foliage creating a cozy atmosphere. But her mind was no longer thinking of the house or the comfort the forest gave her; only of the dangerously untamed man she had passed in the woods.

* * * *

Connor’s hand trembled slightly, and he felt his stomach tighten. He let out a shaky breath and steeled himself for what lay ahead. Since seeing her earlier he couldn’t get her out of his mind. The way her hair glimmered in the sun while her green eyes gleamed brightly as she looked up at him. Grasping the knob, he pushed the door silently open.

With the curtains drawn and the setting sun, the cottage was darkened, only the reddish-orange illuminated the edges of the curtains. He stood silently within the doorway allowing his eyes to adjust. Looking around, he found the hall and saw a dim flicker of light coming from the end. Soundlessly, Connor moved through the cottage after making sure the lock was secured. He didn’t favor the thought of interruptions.

The dim flicker of light continued from a room off the hall. His breath stopped as soon as he was washed with its glow. There were three candles set around the room, their golden light illuminating the room eerily. He could smell her musky scent of desire before his eyes located her. A low rumble rose from his throat as his eyes beheld her loveliness.

She lay in the center of the four-poster bed, her eyes closed, and her chest rising and falling steadily. Her face was relaxed in sleep, her thick lashes lying upon her cheeks, and her thick lush lips parted slightly. Connor let his eyes graze over her body and felt the heat rise in his body, pooling in his groin.

She lay upon her back with her red locks scattered around her head like a halo, her face turned away from where he stood. Her arms were raised and resting comfortably on the soft pillow. His gaze lowered to the black silk bra she wore and felt his groin tighten in response. The position of her arms and the silky material pushed up the abundant flesh accenting her cleavage. Lowering his gaze, they traveled over her taut stomach and small waist reaching a black garter belt. Its thin straps attached to black stockings that clung to every curve of her lean legs. She wore no panties and with her thighs slightly parted as they were, he had a perfect view of her smoothly shaved folds. Lastly, his eyes took in the pair of black stiletto heels encasing her feet as heat devoured his body.

Connor took in the sight of her, his body reacting strongly as his length strained against his pants. He ached to take her, to thrust deep into her body and rock her until she cried out in pleasure. Balling his hands into fists he took a deep breath to calm his body, only making the mistake of looking at her parted lips. They were painted red and he could almost feel them wrapped around him, her breath warm and moist as she sucked him to oblivion. His body shook as he took another breath, this one deep and cleansing to push the image from his head. It worked for a brief second before the image of her tongue lapping at one of his nipples while her nails bit into his flesh flashed clearly in his mind. Connor shook his head pushing back the image of her writhing body, his body trembling in anticipation.

He squelched the rising growl and turned his attention to the bed. It was perfect for what he had in mind. Reaching into a pocket, Connor pulled out several strips of material. He went to the nearest post at the head of the bed and secured one end to it before silently walking to the other side and doing the same with a second piece of material. With the softest touch manageable, he raised her arm a little further and secured the free end around her wrist. She shifted on the bed and gave a small moan, spurring Connor into action as he swiftly anchored the other wrist like the first.

The woman shifted again, but finding that she could not lower her arms her eyes opened and met with those of brown pools flecked with gold.

“You,” she gasped.

He placed a finger over her lips shushing her. He straightened and moved to the end of the bed to admire his catch. She stayed silent as he eyed her chest heaving with heavy breath. She watched him with hooded eyes, only a sparkle of green showing, hiding her emotions and thoughts. Her tongue darted out to wet her dry lips, making the red color glisten in the candlelight. Her body trembled slightly at the predatory look in his gaze.

“Beautiful.” He hissed softly as he removed his vest and managed to discard his boots with haste. With the stealth of a wild cat, Connor kneeled on the bed, parting her legs further more with his knees, and crawled up her body until he covered her; his leather-encased length nestled tightly against her folds.

“What exotic eyes you have.” Her voice came out thick but soft, and holding a slight tremble. His fingers gently brushed wild strands of hair from her face before brushing down her cheek.

Conner knew his hunger was blazing strong, making the gold in his eyes brighten. “All the better to view your beautiful body with.” His voice was nearly a growl.

She whimpered in response to his tone as his lips descended upon her. His lips scalded hers, their heat making her open to him with a gasp. His tongue took the opportunity to press inside her mouth, exploring, dominating. He could feel the rumble of her moans vibrate against his chest and into their joined mouths. Her scent of desire mingled with her sweet taste was slowly driving Connor mad with need.

Connor pulled away, his mouth filled with her taste but he didn’t go far. He nipped at her swollen lip, her breath coming out in small pants hitting on his own sensitive lips.

“What soft lips you have,” she breathed.

“All the better to taste your sweetness,” he answered with a crooked smirk.

She moved beneath him, the silk of her bra rubbing on his bare chest, sending a shiver down his spine. Her legs shifted and wrapped tightly around his leather clad ones, pinning him to her. The movement caused her folds to tighten around his bulge, threatening to destroy his control. He growled and attacked her neck, kissing her creamy soft skin. He caught her flesh between his teeth and marked her before moving down.

Using his strong arms to lift his upper body, Connor slid down her body as her legs loosened their hold on him.. His tongue left a trail down her throat until he reached the material that covered her breasts. His tongue dipped under the silk and lapped at the skin there. Using his teeth, he managed to uncover her right breast, shoving the bra aside. Red gasped and arched up off the bed.

With a swipe of his tongue, her nipple reacted, stiffening to a tight peak. She moaned when she felt the heat of his breath. He suckled the nipple into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the tip, pulling more blood into it. He lifted his head and gave the other nipple the same attention. Connor lowered his chest and let it brush against her erect nipples. The shock of the sensations made her cry out and her legs tighten around him.

A grin of satisfaction graced his lips as he looked down at her expression of desire. He’d managed to bring her near orgasm, and that was just the beginning.

Connor reached back and pried her legs from him so he could slide down her body until his head rested between her legs. He lifted his eyes, gazing at her luscious curves of perfection. He could see her chest heaving from her rapid breath before she lifted her hips and pushed up toward him with impatience. He knew what she wanted without words.

Lowering his eyes he pushed her legs wider, making her folds open. Her scent assaulted his senses, filling him with a groan, desperately needing a taste of her. Using a single finger he lightly ran it along the edge of her inner lips gathering her wetness.

She flinched and moaned at his touch. Her eyes were pleading for him, begging for the pleasure he could give. Her juices glistened on his finger as he brought it to his mouth.

Her musky desire tasted as sweet as her kisses.

Connor shifted his attention back to Red’s body. He bent his head and let his tongue flick her tight bud. He smiled at the curses flowing from her succulent red lips as her body jumped. She was so close.

His tongue lapped at her folds. At his first touch her hips bucked, trying to get closer to his tantalizing mouth. He growled as her taste fully filled his mouth, her juices flowing freely over his tongue and down his chin. It took very little work before Red was crying out as her orgasm hit hard. Her body arching off the bed, yet pushing her hips down hard on his mouth.

Connor quickly got off the bed as her body eased back to sated reality. He franticly shed his clothing, finally releasing his aching length. He kneeled between her legs and leaned forward capturing her mouth. She sighed pleasurably in to his dominating mouth.

“What a talented tongue you have,” she breathed in his ear when their kiss broke.

“All the better to please you with, my pretty,” Connor growled, as he entered her body with one swift thrust.

His groan mixed with her gasp as her tightness settled around him. He stilled his motions to keep his control as another orgasm wracked her body. When she calmed, Connor started slow, sliding in and out of her slick core. Her wetness slurped with his movements, the sound of their bodies rubbing together sent heated fire through his veins.

Lowering his head, Connor claimed her mouth, swallowing her whimpers. Their bodies moved as one, their pace increasing. Harsh breaths forced their kisses to end. As Red threw her head back Connor bent his head and nipped at her shoulder. Feeling her body spasm upon his embedded length, Connor could no longer hold back. With a loud animalistic growl, he threw his head back and thrust twice more before letting orgasm claim his body.

Connor’s arms gave out, causing his body to lie upon Red’s. His muscles quivered from their exertion. He could feel Red’s body trembling from the intense orgasms that had assaulted her. It was several minutes before either could move as they recovered from the storm of pleasure.

Connor was finally able to lift his body from Red’s on shaky limbs. A chill replaced the heat where their bodies had touched. Reaching up, he loosened the material still holding her wrists before drawing her into his arms, holding her close while a hand ran through her hair.

“Mmmm,” she said contently, eyes closed, a look of pure happiness filling her face. “Little Red Riding Hood never had it so good.” She sighed.

Connor chuckled and kissed her head. “I say we play French Maid next week.” Red smiled, opens her eyes, and looked up at his striking eyes. “I think that can be arranged.” Snuggling into the crook of his neck, she relaxed. “I love you, my big, bad wolf.”

“I love you, Red.”

They fell asleep feeling sated, living happily ever after…to play again.

Cynderella

Once upon a time, there lived a beautiful blonde haired child. At a young age it was evident her beauty would surpass those around her. Her features were of the finest crafted porcelain dolls, eyes as blue and clear as the sea, and lips full of shape and color.

Her mother named her Cynderella, but her father simply called her Cyn.

Cyn knew death early in life. She lost her mother when she was just a babe. In turn, her father doted on her and loved her so much that she never felt a shortage of love having lost her mother, but she lacked the feminine companionship that most daughters had. Being born to a Count, Cyn lacked for nothing, but she was not one of a spoiled nature. Her sweet, compassionate spirit radiated from her in all she did. Easily she won the affection of the staff her father had to care for her.

When Cyn was eleven, her father found love again and married the widow Anna. She brought to the marriage two daughters. The oldest, Dana, was a year older than Cyn. She had long, stringy brown hair and she appeared mousy and plain, despite her rich clothing. The younger one, Misty, was a year younger than Cyn. Misty’s hair was dark and oily looking and seemed as plain as her sister. Both girls were snobby and spoiled.

At first Cyn was excited with the thought of having a mother and sisters in her life. She eagerly looked forward to the day that her father’s bride would bring her daughters to live with them. However, soon after their arrival, Cyn quickly learned that her new family members didn’t like her. No matter how hard Cyn tried to get along with the girls or her stepmother, they treated her unkindly. It was only her father that brought real joy to her life, but that too came to an end. Because of his duties as a Count, Cyn’s father often traveled and she always dreaded his absences, but she would continue with her studies and wait patiently for his return, enduring the wrath of her stepsister’s insults and her stepmother ignoring her. She found a little comfort in the servants that she’d grown up with but they were not her father.

Four years after his marriage to her stepmother, the Count never returned home.

Thieves killed him. Poor Cyn. Her life was shattered. She had no other living relatives and was left to the care of her stepmother. For the first time in her life, Cyn felt truly alone and grieved.

Anna allowed Cyn a proper mourning period. She and her stepsisters were actually nice to Cyn while friends came to pay their sympathies to them. Cyn began to think that maybe life for the next three years, until she received her inheritance, wouldn’t be so bad after all. She had never been more wrong.

Once the mourning time was completed, Anna quickly sold off every servant in the home and hired a new cook who was stern and unfriendly. Anna stripped Cyn of all of her nice belongings, moved her to a room in the attic, and made her clean the house and wait on them as a servant. Cyn did the laundry, mending, along with anything else they could think of for her to do.

Cyn no longer wore beautiful gowns specially made for her, only drab working clothing. Often she sported dirt and soot on her skin and clothes due to her hard work.

She was made to put her long locks up and cover them with a kerchief so no one could see the golden color or soft tresses. Anna more than once threatened to cut her hair if she saw any of it in her presence.

Her stepmother cut Cyn from all life outside the walls of their home. When visitors came to call she was locked in her room out of view. At night she was locked away, only allowed out when Cook unlocked the door in the mornings so she may begin her chores. Cyn did as she was told, not once complaining, for that was her way.

She had no one to ask help from, for all she had known were no longer there to assist her. All the servants she loved had been sold and sent to far away places.

While alone in her room at night, Cyn would often open the window and look up at the sky. Watching the stars, she would allow herself to dream of a handsome Prince coming to her rescue, sweeping her off her feet, and taking her somewhere away from her dreary life of servitude. She dreamed of a man who would love and cherish her for the rest of her life. She knew they were childish dreams, but they were all she had that was truly hers.

The oldest stepsister, Dana, enticed a rich Duke into marrying her during her first season. Unknown to Cyn, Anna had split Cyn’s dowry and added it to Dana’s as incentive to her husband. Her other stepsister Misty, her contract of marriage took a bit longer. She was not chosen in her first season like her sister, but managed to get an unwitting Duke caught in a compromising position during her second season. This forced him into marrying her and the rest of Cyn’s dowry added helped for him to be more cooperative.

Cyn was glad to see them go. She was tired of their impulsive ways and thought her life would settle down and be easier. But Anna had other plans.

Shortly after Misty married Anna announced that she too would re-wed, now that her daughters were taken care of. Marques Hadenshire had been courting her for a couple of years knowing she wished for her daughters’ security to come first. It was also profitable for him, for he did not have to add his own wealth to their dowries.

Cyn was ecstatic. She was sure that Anna would allow her to have her house back and leave her be. All she wanted was her childhood home. She cared little for riches. But Cyn’s fate was not to be that kind.

Anna sold Cyn’s childhood home, stating that she no longer wanted any reminders of her horrible time in the country, and then sold Cyn to the Palace as a servant. She told Cyn that since she was not her blood, she had no obligations to her future. Anna also threatened Cyn not to tell a soul who she really was. Anna explained how no one would believe her for soon after her father died she’d spread the rumor that Cynderella had run away in grief over her father. The rumor also included that Cyderella had taken to selling her body to survive and was killed by a drunken drifter.

The girl known as Cynderella Jamison, daughter to the Count of Venshire, had been dead for over five years and her reputation in ruins.

Cyn was devastated. Once more, the life she knew had been destroyed. She had nothing left but the nickname that her father called her and her memories. Anna had even changed her last name when Cyn was sold off. Her dreams were lost and her heart ached with sadness. But Cyn was a Jamison. Not wanting to shame her father’s memory, even if no one knew who she really was, she held her head high, refusing to let her emotions show, saving the tears for when she was alone.

With one final glace at her home, Cyn was transported to the Palace the next day.

Anna wasted no time in wiping her hands free of extra responsibility. Cyn was given a small room with two other servant girls. One was a cook and the other a maid, both near her age. They became friends and helped Cyn learn her way around the Palace.

Her duties were fairly simple. Cyn was to clean the many bedrooms and prepare them for guests. She had free reign of the Palace with the exception of the East Wing where the Royal family lived. She was also to act as a maid to those Ladies who had none traveling with them. Cyn easily settled into the stable life, content with her duties, finding it was much easier than waiting upon her ever demanding stepmother and stepsisters.

Many nights Cyn snuck up to the roof of one of the towers. It was her favorite place to retreat from everyone and everything. A place where she could forget who she was and what her life had become. From there she could see out across the vast kingdom and get a clear view of the sky. Her dreams from childhood past were revived in this place.

Often she’d lie on her back and gaze up at the darkened sky, thinking of finding her love. This man would sweep her from the life of servitude she’d grown into and pamper her with kisses and caresses. The man would be handsome and loving. His body would ignite her blood with every look and touch. She would be the center of his world, protecting her from the evil that roamed the world.

While thoughts of how her man would worship her body, Cyn would reach a hand under her skirts and touch where moisture gathered in her curls. She would imagine that her fingers were his as they caressed between her folds. That it was him slipping his fingers into her heated core letting it soak them with her wetness. She would moan as she brought herself to climax, and only then would her fantasy world fade and reality invaded again.

Late one night Cyn sat on the rooftop and looked up at the cloudless star filled sky. Music from below floated up to her ears. There was a celebration that evening, for the Prince had returned home after being gone for some time. She’d prepared all the guest rooms earlier and with no other duties needed of her, she was free for the rest of the evening.

Suddenly, a bright star shot across the sky before heading right for her. Cyn gasped in surprise and stood quickly. Her mind demanded that she run but her feet were frozen where she stood. She watched fearful as the star slowed and stopped in front of her. With mouth open in shock, Cyn watched the light brighten before materializing into a beautiful young woman. Cyn yelped and stumbled back in fear, her feet finally moving freely.

“Hello Cynderella,” the woman said smilingly.

“How…how do you know my name? Who are you?”

“I’m Lena, your fairy godmother,” she answered in a sweet melodious voice.

“My what?” Cyn asked confused. She thought about pinching herself to make sure she wasn’t in some wild dream. “Ow!” she cried out when the woman reached out and gave her arm a pinch.

“You’re not dreaming, my dear. I’m here to give you your heart’s desire for one night.”

Cyn looked at the woman thinking this woman was clearly mad. She was dressed so strangely, unlike anything Cyn had ever seen before. Her skirt was way too short, going down only mid-thigh. Her top bared the woman’s stomach and there were no sleeves, only thin straps holding her shirt on. Even those of ill repute didn’t wear such scandalous clothing. Then there were the strange piercings in various places on her body. How awkward it must be to have a piercing in the bottom of her lip. Her hair was bright blonde with streaks of pink. Her face was painted with such dark colors.

Thick black lining surrounded her eyes and dark, blood red paint smeared her lips.

“Come on, dearie. We haven’t all night. Time is running out.” A wand suddenly appeared in Lena’s hand and she waved it in the air.

“Oh my…” Cyn gasped when she suddenly found herself standing in a strange room instead of the rooftop. She turned in awe and knew she’d never been in this room before. She wasn’t even sure she was still in the Palace. The furniture was made of dark wood with a royal blue spread and drapes. From the looks of it, the room belonged to a man.

“What are we doing here? Whose room is this? Are we still in the Palace?” Cyn asked, feeling uncomfortable. She knew that she should be very scared of this woman but found that as frightening as she looked, Cyn did not fear her.

“You are so full of questions tonight.” Lena sighed. “Listen up, because I’m only going through this once. Someone up there likes you and has heard your wishes. You have been granted this one night of pleasure. You are not to ask anything of the man you will meet but his name. Under no circumstances are you to tell him more than your name. You will have until sunrise to spend with him and do as you desire. Do you understand?”

Cyn was still shocked with all that had happened but managed to nod her head, her eyes still trying to absorb her surroundings.

“Good.” Lena said, while giving Cyn a more intense glance at her clothing.

“These will never work. How do you expect to seduce a man in this?” Lena tapped her bottom lip with a long blood red nail. “Hmm, let’s see. Something sexy is a definite must, along with color. This gray is not your color at all. And the hair.” She shook her head. “No, no. Something must be done with it.” Lena began rambling softly and circled Cyn, tapping her wand against a leg.

“I’ve got it!” she exclaimed, then waved her wand over Cyn’s body.

Cyn felt a ticklish tingle through her body, then a rush of cool air. She looked down and gasped, “What is this?” Her voice held wonder, having never seen such clothing before.

“This,” Lena fluffed Cyn’s hair, “will get you the night of your dreams.” Cyn rushed to the looking glass. The woman the glass revealed was a stranger to her eyes. No longer did she wear the baggy drab servant’s dress and the kerchief was gone from her long locks. Her feet were dressed in shiny black shoes with tall heels, making her taller and her legs look longer. Her legs were covered in some sort of strange black sheer hosiery that reached her mid thigh then connected to a red one-piece corset that wrapped around her torso. It was tight and stiff but made from silky soft material. A strip of material ran from the bottom of the corset, between her legs, and when she turned around, she saw that the material thinned as it set neatly between her butt cheeks before widening to form the back. The corset had no straps and its shape pushed her breasts up giving her ample cleavage a boost. Cyn’s eyes traveled up her body and found her long, golden hair flowing free, her lips painted rose red and her eyes lined with black kohl.

“This is me?” Cyn asked in disbelief. She’d never seen herself like this and found that she liked the look.

Lena rolled her eyes. “Of course. Now remember, you must be gone from here by sunrise. Use this secret corridor that will lead back to your room.” She went to the wall where a large tapestry hung and pulled it aside. Behind it was a doorway.

Cyn nodded. “Thank you.” Her voice trembled with nervousness and her eyes filled with tears.

Lena smiled. “No problem, babe. Now, have fun.” She gave Cyn a quick embrace and made a swift wave of her wand over Cyn’s stomach. In an instant Lena was gone.

Cyn blinked a couple of times, then realized she was alone. Slowly she wandered the room, her stomach knotted with excitement and nervousness. The only lighting illuminating the room came from the roaring fire and two candles near the bed. The air was filled with a musky, masculine scent; another indication that it belonged to a man.

She wondered who the man would be. Was he handsome? Surely he was. Lena wouldn’t have gone to all this trouble to put her with an unattractive man. Cyn ran her hand along the smooth wood of the bed and wondered if she had the guts to do what she’d done hundreds of times in her fantasies. Hoping to calm her anxiety, she laid on the bed and found that it was very comfortable.

* * * *

The door opened quickly then slammed shut. His massive form crossed the room to the wardrobe, mumbling and cursing softly, the shadows hiding his features. He was so involved with his thoughts he’d not seen Cyn lying on his bed.

Trevor continued his rant to himself as he stripped off his clothing. He couldn’t believe the evening he had spent with his mother. He’d thought that they would have a quiet evening together but his mother had made different plans for them. She arranged a coming home celebration then started pestering him about when he would marry.

She’d gone as far as trying to set him up with several of the young maidens invited to the celebration. He’d been home one day after being gone for five years and she was already trying to get him tied down and some grandchildren born.

* * * *

Cyn watched silently as this man jerked at his clothing. It was clear that he was upset about something. She heard words about his mother, some curses, marriage, and then more curses. He shifted closer to the fire and the light illuminated his body. His shirt was the first to go, and Cyn had to clamp her lips together, concealing her gasp.

With the mood the man was in, she wasn’t sure he’d welcome her unexpected presence.

The muscles rippled in his back and arms as he bent to remove his boots. His position gave her the perfect view of his backside with his pants hugging the curves of it tightly.

Once he’d slipped out of his pants and was completely nude, he turned to crawl into bed but froze at the sight of Cyn.

Cyn’s lips parted in surprise as this magnificent creature who stood naked before her. Never had she seen a man completely without clothing, so to see this strange man, his long length hanging between his legs, sent a shudder through her body.

“Who are you?” Trevor asked gruffly, crossing his arms over his chest, not at all trying to conceal his nakedness.

Cyn’s mouth opened to speak but the words died in her throat. His masculine beauty had rendered her speechless. She tried again, seeing the impatience in his eyes.

She didn’t want him to throw her out before she could say a word.

“I’m Cynderella,” she answered, hoping her voice didn’t sound too squeaky.

“And why is it that you are laying upon my bed?” His voice was cold even as his eyes wandered her exposed body.

“I’m here to pleasure you, m’lord.” Cyn sat up and gave what she hoped was a gentle yet sexy smile. Though she had her doubts that she could actually go through with this, she was not about to give up her one chance to fulfill a fantasy. No, she wouldn’t give up too quickly, no matter the distrust that shined in his eyes.

Trevor stepped closer, his arms lowering to his sides. “What makes you think I need pleasure on this night?” His voice had softened seeing her smile.

“All men crave pleasure, m’lord. But from the way you made your entrance, I feel you are in great need of release.” Cyn’s voice was as smooth as silk as she slipped into the role of a seductress. She practically purred at him and was surprised at how natural this suddenly felt. Could this really be her saying these things?

* * * *

A corner of Trevor’s mouth twitched as he studied this woman. Actually, it was more than his mouth that she made twitch. Her radiance vibrated in the air, and though she moved gracefully and surely, he sensed she was more innocent than she looked.

“Who was it that sent you my way, kitten?”

Cyn moved so that she was on her hands and knees, facing Trevor. “No one, m’lord. I came of my own free will.”

Trevor found himself at the foot of his bed, not remembering taking the steps to get there. He felt drawn to her, his body reacting to her mere presence. He felt the urge to touch her, smell her, taste her. His mind screamed of a bewitching, but his body refused to listen. What was it about this strange woman that held him so captivated? He hesitated only a moment at the thought of trickery. Was this something his mother set up? A way to trick him into marriage? Looking down at the beauty his thoughts fled as primal lust invaded his body.

Trevor kneeled on the bed in front of her. Cyn lifted and kneeled also. He brushed his hand through her long thick locks and sighed at the softness. He watched as her lips parted slightly. He looked into her darkening eyes. The reflecting fire made it look as if the flames consumed them, making her mysterious and desirable.

“You have beautiful hair. Where are you from?” He’d not seen hair this thick and pleasing in a long time. He’d spent the last five years traveling foreign lands. He’d gone to lands of great wealth and lands that held the lowest of scum. Women threw themselves at him when they found out he was a crowned prince but he pushed them aside. He was not interested in being trapped into marriage. There had been women of all sorts, but none that could ever compare to the woman kneeling before him. None that allowed their hair to flow loosely over their shoulders and backs. No, it was only proper to bind their tresses tightly from their face, then yell if anyone should mess so much as a strand of hair.

“M’lord, I shant tell my secrets tonight. This night is to be for you and your pleasure.” Cyn tried to distract him from asking any more questions of her.

Trevor smiled at her words.

“Well then, kitten, if that is true, you may drop the m’lord and call me Trevor.”

* * * *

Cyn looked at the exquisite man through lowered lashes. She nearly swooned as his face transformed from merely handsome to absolutely gorgeous when he smiled.

His body was divine in masculinity. His light brown eyes held a promise of delight. She lifted a hand, thankful it was not shaking, and touched his bare chest. This was the first time she’d actually touched a man this way and wanted to remember every second of it.

Her fingers began moving softly feeling the smoothness of his tawny skin.

Trevor silently watched Cyn’s face as her hands roamed his chest. She tried to conceal her reactions from him but she wasn’t sure how well she was hiding her excitement. She liked how he lay still for her, allowing her to explore his body, letting her experience him the way she wanted.

Cyn’s hands traveled down until she reached his engorged member. Lightly, she wrapped her fingers around his thickness and heard him gasp. She had read some of her stepsisters’ erotic tales they’d kept hidden. She knew of the different ways to pleasure a man and she was determined to try each and every one her memory could recall.

She released her hold on him and moved her body down, after urging him gently on his back. In the dim lighting she admired his stiff length. She reached out and touched him again, feeling the soft skin around the hard organ. She was amazed that something so soft feeling could be hard as it was.

Cyn took hold of all the fantasy images in her head for courage as she bent her head and licked the tip. She tasted the fluid seeping from him, pleased when it jerked in her hand and a deep growl sounded from him. She slid her mouth upon the hardness, letting her teeth gently graze the top while her tongue lapped along the bottom.

* * * *

Trevor gasped at the mixed sensations rushing through his body. In all his worldly travels, and all the women who’d littered his past, he’d never had one that had affected him as she. His head was swimming as blood rushed to his groin, aching for release. It had been a long while since he’d been with a woman. This last year, he’d stayed far from them after a conniving minx had almost tricked him into marriage.

Cyn’s slow assault to his stiff member had Trevor mad with desire. His fingers tangled in her hair, the softness falling around his thighs. He longed for release, to fill her with his seed. His balls tightened as his orgasm rushed upon him. He couldn’t stop it, didn’t want to. With a loud groan, Trevor shot his fluids down her open throat.

He knew he’d caught Cyn by surprise with his release but she gulped down every salty drop before using her tongue to lick away any excess. Shyly, she looked up.

Her eyes met his lust filled eyes. The brown darker than before, filled with raw hunger.

With lightening speed his arms wrapped around her and pulled Cyn up his body. She let out a small yelp of surprise but his mouth crashing to hers, quickly swallowed it. She opened her mouth willingly, allowing him entrance as their tongues began a sensual dance.

“Has anyone told you how good you are at that?” Trevor asked, breaking their kiss, his voice hoarse and breathless.

Cyn’s cheeks reddened. “No, m’lord.”

Trevor growled in desire, seeing her face flaming from the blush. How was it possible that she was even more beautiful? Lowering his head he attacked her neck with his mouth, determined to show her as much pleasure as she’d given him. He craved to hear her call his name as she fell into ecstasy.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, as his lips traveled down to her breasts while his hands pulled at the material covering them. He took but a moment to admire the delicious sight before him. Soft, creamy skin covered her firm breasts, the tips pebble hard and darkened. They begged for his attention.

She cried out when his mouth claimed a nipple. Her back arched in response as she practically purred in delight. He groaned when his hand felt the wetness of the material that covered her sweet treasure.

Trevor pulled his body back from her seeing the confusion in her eyes. “Stand up at the foot of the bed,” he ordered in a thick voice.

He watched as it took several seconds for his words to register in her mind. With slow movements she sat up and crawled to the foot of the bed then stood where he told her to. He could see that her legs trembled as they adjusted to standing again.

Trevor moved so that he kneeled on the bed before the goddess of his dreams.

He wanted to assure her that she’d done nothing wrong. His hands tenderly caressed her arms as his eyes ravaged her body. She intrigued him. One moment she gave off vibes of a hungry tigress, then the next instant he could smell the innocence rolling off of her in waves.

“You are so beautiful.” His voice was soft and filled with awe at the creature standing in front of him.

He reached up and unhooked the garter from the hose covering her legs. His hands ran up her hips and sides, searching out the stays that held the material on her body. Once all the ties were loosened, he slowly peeled the material from her skin, his lips kissing every inch as the material fell to the floor. He felt her trembling under every touch.

Trevor moved so that he kneeled on the floor and was looking up at her. He rolled down the hose on each leg, taking his time and letting her silky skin brush under his callused hands. After removing the material from her feet, he replaced the shoes that adorned them, loving how the height of them accentuated the curves of her calves.

Sitting back he gloried in her beauty. His body responded by hardening again as he looked upon this exquisite creation.

“Turn for me,” he ordered softly.

Cyn did as he wanted, moving slowly so his eyes could prowl her body. She was fully exposed to him and he felt weak at the power she held over him. Never had he felt this way with any other woman.

“Are you pleased, m’lord?” she asked, with a seductive smile. Her voice was thick and husky.

Trevor let out a harsh breath. “Greatly, my sweet kitten.” He stood and sat on the bed. “Come lie with me.”

She crawled back on the bed and lay in the middle. Trevor turned and positioned himself between her legs. He could smell her musky desire and longed to taste her. He took a finger and traced a mark that he saw nestled near her folds. It was in the shape of a heart and he gently kissed it before moving on. His tongue lapped at her folds seeking the tip of her clit that hardened under his touch.

Cyn moaned as Trevor’s tongue explored her, dipping into her drenched core, eagerly lapping up her juices. She felt the building waves of her orgasm and gyrated harder against him.

“Yes…oh Trevor…gods above…yes!” she cried out, as she climaxed and her body shuddered.

Before Cyn could come down from the high of her release she felt Trevor moved up her body and slip into her slick, hot passage. He paused but a moment, as if something blocked his path. She didn’t see the concerned look as he broke through her maidenhood.

Cyn shifted beneath him and whimpered her need. She had expected a little pain, like she’d heard her stepsisters’ talk of, but all she felt was pure bliss. She had not realized Lena had made it easier and more pleasurable for her.

Slowly, Trevor loved Cyn with his body, taking her to the edge of orgasm several times before backing off, so her ecstasy would build higher. He showed her the heights of ecstasy until she was begging and writhing beneath him, at his complete mercy, before she finally came apart under him. Only then did he allow himself to sink into his own release.

“Trevor,” Cyn whispered, her hands running through his long hair as he lay atop of her. Her legs were still wrapped around his waist keeping him inside her. “You are truly an amazing lover.” She purred in satisfaction.

He nuzzled further into her hair, inhaling her scent. “You bring out the best of me, sweet Cynderella,” he murmured.

Cyn sighed as he once more began kissing a trail upon her neck. The pleasure she felt began to consume every inch of her. Her mind could only comprehend the feel of his hands and mouth feasting upon her body. That night she was insatiable. Her desire for Trevor was strong and she felt as if she could never get enough of him. They tried every way she’d read about to pleasure her lover, who eagerly kept up with her wildness, as well as trying a few new things that she didn’t think could ever be possible.

* * * *

Too soon Cyn turned over and found the sun start its ascent into the sky. She almost wept at the thought of having to leave Trevor. In this one night she’d falling in love and never wanted to leave, but she knew she must. Briefly the thought of her attraction being part of a spell Lena cast crossed her mind. But looking down at Trevor’s peaceful face Cyn knew that it was no spell. The emotions she felt were her own and real. She turned and softly kissed Trevor.

“I love you,” she whispered on his lips, before slowly detangling herself from his embrace.

She watched as he shifted and embraced the pillow she’d used but he continued sleeping. She stood there, letting her mind memorize the sight of his body, the scent of his flesh, and the sound of his breathing. She could still feel the heat of his hands all over her body and wondered if it would disappear when she left him. With reluctance Cyn left the room by way of the secret passage Lena had shown her behind the tapestry.

It led her back to her room, but she left behind a trail of tears.

* * * *

Trevor turned and reached out to find nothing but a cold empty space next to him. His eyes opened and he sat up.

“Cyn?” he called out, but silence was his only response.

Looking down to where she’d been, he could still see the imprint of her body revealing that it had not been just a dream. He jumped out of bed and ran to the door.

Throwing it open, he stepped out into the hall calling her name. Hearing a gasp, he turned and found a maid with the look of shock on her features as he stood in the hall without his clothing. Realizing what he’d done, he growled and stepped back into his room, slamming the door behind him without a word to the servant.

Quickly, Trevor dressed and ran down the halls looking for his sweet Cynderella. When did he start thinking of her as his he wondered, as he looked out a window to the people bustling about below. He’d asked any servant he came across if they had seen a woman by his description or name but they all shook their heads and said no. Even the ones who knew Cyn did not recognize her true name and put it together with the beautiful woman Trevor had described, for they’d always seen her in her servant clothing and her hair covered, disguising her absolutely beautiful features, the ones he had only seen.

By mid-morning Trevor was very agitated. How could a person disappear like she had and no one see her? The night had been amazing. Cynderella had made him feel things that he never knew existed. She made him do things he’d never felt comfortable doing before. He’d been telling her the truth when he’d told her that she brought the best out of him.

Walking the halls and finding no trace of her, his stomach began to knot and grow nauseous at the thought of never seeing her again. Of never holding her in his arms, or touching her soft skin. He wanted her. He needed her. He…he loved her.

Trevor avoided his mother all day despite her persistence to see him. He continued his search for Cynderella throughout the castle and the village outside the Palace walls. Instead of having dinner with his mother that evening, he waited in his room, pacing the floor in hopes that she would return to him. No one but a servant checking his health came.

As he stood by the window and looked out to the cloudy sky, Trevor began to wonder if he truly only dreamed her and the night they shared. Had his mind finally been clouded with enough of his mother’s pestering that his subconscious made up a woman he could fall in love with?

He sighed and turned to go to bed when his foot hit something on the floor.

Looking down, he saw one of the black shoes Cynderella had worn the night before. He picked it up and gently caressed its smooth texture, remembering when he’d slid them off her feet and sucked on her perfectly formed toes. He sat on the bed and turned the shoe in his hands. This was proof that he had not dreamed of his beautiful kitten. Proof that she’d been in his room, in his bed with him. He set it on the pillow she’d used to rest her head and was more determined than ever to find her.

* * * *

That same night Cyn sat alone in her room brushing out her hair. All day she’d heard the other servants whispering about how strange the newly returned Prince was acting. Never been one much interested in gossip, she’d not asked what all the bother was. She went about her duties quietly, her mind rewinding all the pleasure she’d experienced the night before with the stranger.

After completing all her chores Cyn made her way up to her room. She wanted to sleep since she’d not gotten too much the night before, but she felt restless and couldn’t lie still long enough to fall asleep. Her mind kept thinking of Trevor and how wonderful her night had been. Tears gathered in her eyes as she began to wonder if what she did was a blessing or a curse.

Before meeting Trevor, Cyn had been content with her life, resigned to the fact that she would be a servant until she died, probably never to find love or a home of her own. But now she felt so cold and empty. Like she’d touched pure happiness with Trevor, only to have it torn away; leaving a gaping hole inside of her. Maybe it was better for her not to have tasted such bliss and not know how it felt to have someone hold her and make love to her.

Cyn looked to the wall that had held a door earlier that morning. Like everything else, it too was magical and had disappeared once the sun fully rose. She sighed, wishing the door would reappear to take her back to Trevor. Back to warmth. Back to love.

Wiping the tears from her cheeks, Cyn stood and looked out at the cloudy sky. It had started to rain, not a good night to go up to the roof. Having nothing else better to do, she blew out her candle and climbed into her small bed where she cried herself to sleep before those that shared her room returned.

* * * *

The sun rose brightly the next day, the sky clear of all gray, drying up all the wet land. Trevor barged into the sunroom where his mother was entertaining several ladies who had come to visit.

“Mother, I must speak with you,” Trevor demanded.

“Trevor.” The Queen was shocked and her voice held that of reprimand. Looking to her guests, she apologized. “Please forgive my son. He has been away from polite society for too long.” She turned back to her son. “What is it Trevor?”

“I’m in love and I want to marry the woman,” he announced. This got everyone’s attention and his mother’s face brightened with a smile.

“Who is this lucky girl, pray tell. Is it Serena, the Duke of Tyran’s daughter? Or maybe Tabitha, the Count’s daughter?” she inquired, as images of a grand wedding flashed in her mind.

Trevor held out the black shoe. “It is the blonde beauty who can fit this shoe.” The Queen gasped. “What? You do not know who she is but you love her? How did you get her shoe?”

“Her name is Cynderella. I met her two nights ago. She was waiting in my room.

Mother, she’s the one I want to marry. The one I love.” The Queen’s hand rose to her mouth in surprise. How could a woman who waited in a man’s room be that of good upbringing? Only tavern girls did such a thing.

Or so she heard.

“Mother, you’d love her. She makes me smile and laugh. Her hair is long and thick and as golden as the sunrise. Her beauty surpasses any I’ve seen before. Her foot fits perfectly in this shoe.”

The Queen shook her head. “Surely, my son, there are plenty of women in the Kingdom that can fit in that shoe. How can you be so certain that she will be the one?” He smiled at his mother and paid little attention to the other women in the room who started whispering quietly with each other. “I would know her anywhere. Her voice is musical and she has a heart shaped mark between her thighs. I’m calling for all the women of the Kingdom to come and see me, no matter their station. I will find her and make her my bride.” The determination in his voice was unmistakable. There would be no arguing with him. His mind was set.

The ladies in the room gasped as Trevor mentioned the mark between the mystery woman’s thighs. Being as intrigued as they were in Trevor since he stepped into the room, no one noticed the maid in the corner that had frozen since he made his appearance. It was she that gasped the loudest.

* * * *

Cyn had been terrified when Trevor entered the room. She couldn’t believe who he was. The wild, eldest son of the Queen who had returned to accept his responsibility of his father’s Kingdom. She had heard the servants speak of him from time to time, especially now since his return, but had yet to see him.

Cyn lowered her head and quickly left the room after hearing Trevor’s announcement. She ran to the kitchen where she returned the tray and then leaned against the wall, her heart pounding and stomach churning. She couldn’t believe it.

Trevor was searching for her. He wanted to marry her and only her. But who was she but a lowly servant. She didn’t even have her father’s name anymore. Everyone thought that Cynderella Jamison was dead; she was merely Cyn, simple servant with nothing to offer a future King. She felt her chest tighten and her heart break knowing that she could never have him. How could he want someone like her?

The cook approached Cyn, thinking that she looked awful pale. “Are you alright dear? You look white as a sheep. Are you feeling unwell?” She was concerned for the young girl.

Cyn shook her head and took a deep breath to calm herself. Cautiously, she went back to the sunroom. Peeking in first, she saw that Trevor no longer lingered there.

Neither did the Queen, but the other women sat and were talking animatedly about the scene they’d just witnessed. Cyn continued with her duties with trembling hands and constantly on the look out for either Trevor or the Queen to return.

As soon as she could, Cyn escaped the room and retreated to the solitude of her bedroom to cry upon her bed. She shed tears as her dreams once more melted, leaving her an empty shell inside. But not once did she regret her night with her own Prince Charming.

The Palace was all in a buzz as women from all around the Kingdom came to try on the black shoe. Several traveled from further kingdoms when they heard the tale of the Prince searching for his bride, in hopes that they be the one. It would take many days to go through them all.

Cyn tried to stay in her room as much as possible, avoiding anywhere the Prince may be, while still doing her duties. Her heart was broken and didn’t want to risk him recognizing her and having to deny that she was the one. Only at night, when she was alone and no one could see her, did she allow herself to feel the grief of another loss in her life.

* * * *

Trevor meanwhile was growing more frustrated with every woman that passed before him. If, by chance, the shoe did fit, their hair was often the wrong color, texture, or length. He had yet to check for the mark, for none had come close to her beauty.

Trevor paced the room when the last woman of the day left. He growled like a wild animal. Passing a vase, he picked it up and threw it across the room. He watched 32

Marty Rayne

as it shattered to pieces. He felt just like the vase. He was falling apart. He needed Cynderella. He craved to see her sensual smile, to feel her touch and smell her hair. She was all that filled his mind and he knew he’d not be at peace until he found her.

That night Trevor’s sleep was restless. His dreams filled of Cynderella and how she felt wrapped around him. He did not see the small brightness that entered his room and materialize beside his bed.

Lena looked down at the man and shook her head. “Men are so daft,” she whispered, and bent close to his ear. “Hey, why don’t you check the servants, dude?”

“Servants,” Trevor mumbled and turned over.

Lena rolled her eyes as if saying, d’uh. “The one you seek is here, within your walls.”

Trevor opened his eyes and looked around but Lena was already gone. Rolling over and feeling a little better, he slid back into a more peaceful sleep.

Trevor got up when the sun rose and demanded that all the female servants be brought before him. His tone and gruffness was not one to be argued with so it was done without protest. One by one, he looked into the face of each woman and had them remove the kerchiefs covering their hair.

He growled angrily and pounded his fist on a table. “Is this all the females serving here?”

“Yes, Majesty,” a young soldier answered, nervously.

A small, red-haired girl stepped out to the front and curtsied low before speaking. “Majesty,” she said softly, but it caught his attention. “There is but one left, but she is up in her room ill and was unable to come down.” Trevor sighed and looked at the young girl, her eyes staring wide in fright. He knew he’d let his frustrations and anger show too much. “Take me to her,” he said, in a softer, kinder tone.

The maid led Trevor up to Cyn’s room then knocked on the door.

“Enter,” Cyn called out, thinking it was one of her friends checking on her.

Trevor heard the voice and knew that it was her. Her voice was like a song that

filled his heart. He saw the young girl reach for the handle and stopped her.

“Thank you.” He gave her a smile and her fear eased. “Do not allow anyone to bother us, unless they risk the wrath of myself upon them.” He could clearly see that she was now worried for her friend. “It is alright. No harm will come to her,” he assured the young maid.

She curtsied and made her way down the hall to make sure no one disturbed the Prince, as he requested.

Trevor took a deep breath then entered the small servant room. His first sight was of her lying on a cot, wearing her servant’s clothing and her hair tied back. Her coloring was pale despite the bright sunlight and her eyes red, but still she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

* * * *

Cyn gasped at the sight of Trevor standing above her. “Trevor? What…how?” She couldn’t seem to get her mouth to finish the questions that ran through her mind.

He sat on the cot next to her. Reaching a hand out, he gently touched her face.

The feel of her soft skin sent shivers of want through his body.

“My sweet Cynderella. I have been looking for you since that night. Why have you not come forward, love?”

Tears gathered in her eyes as she looked at the man she loved. “I was afraid,” she admitted.

“Afraid of what, kitten?” His thumb worked circles on her cheek.

“Afraid that you wouldn’t want me once you found out what I am.” Trevor cupped her face in both his palms and looked into her sad eyes. “Kitten, you have made me feel things that I’d never felt before. Because of you, I’m ready to settle down and do what is expected of me. You have shown me that love does exist out there, that it doesn’t matter who I am or who you are. I love you. I see my whole world in a new light, one that can only be right if you are in it.”

Tears fell from Cyn’s eyes at his sweet words but were they true? He dropped his hands and she looked away. How could he still want her, knowing she was just a simple servant? She had nothing, not even a name.

As if reading her mind, he smiled. “I want you, Cynderella. I love you and will marry no other. I care not what you’ve done before me. You will be my wife, my Queen, and the mother of my children.” His expression became worried. “Please tell me what ails you? I will get the best physician here to cure you.” Cyn gave a small laugh and shook her head as tears continued to rush from her eyes in happiness. His voice saying her true name was like a symphony ringing in her ears, playing music just for her. It was the most beautiful sound she’d ever heard. “No physician is needed, m’lord. It was a broken heart that ailed me because I was so scared that I could not be who you thought I was.”

“The Cynderella that shared my bed that night was the real Cynderella. I knew it from the beginning. She is a part of you and helped make me fall in love with you.

Come, we will announce to the Kingdom that I am to marry tonight.”

“What?” Cyn gulped as he stood and reached for her hand. “But look at me. I’m in no shape or have the appropriate clothing for it. I can’t possibly…” Trevor pulled her up and stopped her protests with a kiss filled with passion, making her forget everything but the feel of his body pressing against hers. He made love to her mouth using his tongue, making her moan as her desire for him rose high.

He ripped at her gray servant dress uncaringly, knowing that she’d never wear it again.

Right there, on the small hard cot, Trevor worshiped her body and tangled his hands in her thick hair. Telling Cyn, over and over, that he belonged to her and how he would please her for the rest of her life.

Cyn felt her heart swell with love at Trevor’s words and knew that they were true. She knew that she’d been given the gift of true love and sighed, silently thanking Lena for it as Trevor’s lips surrounded her clit, making her scream with pleasure. She didn’t see the twinkle of light that floated outside her window.

* * * *

Trevor kept Cyn by his side after they made love for several hours. Trevor realized why no one recognized the woman he had described, or her name. The clothing she wore hid her womanly curves, while the kerchief over her hair had allowed few to see her thick golden tresses. She no longer went by Cyderella, merely Cyn. But it no longer mattered by what name she was called, she would always be his fierce kitten.

Later, after being introduced to Trevor’s mother, Cyn reluctantly told them her story and who she really was, not sure they would really believe her. It felt odd saying her real name out loud for the first time in many years. With the Queen’s blessing, Cyn and Trevor were married that night without the huge announcement and elaborate celebration. The Queen was happy to see her son so cheerful and in love. Now, she just needed some grandchildren to keep her busy, but that would be spoken about another day.

* * * *

The morning after Trevor’s marriage to Cyn, the Queen summoned Marques Anna of Hadenshire. Anna felt greatly honored for such an invitation. She walked majestically into the throne room, back straight and head held high. She bowed before the Royal family and only when she rose did she notice the young woman sitting next to the Crowned Prince. Anna blinked several time to clear her vision but nothing changed. Sitting there, in royal clothing, was her stepdaughter, Cynderella.

“I believe you’ve met my wife, Cynderella Jamison DuBois,” Trevor said, scowling at the woman before them. He watched, pleased as she stuttered, her mouth moving like a fish, but no intelligent words came out.

Trevor and the Queen questioned Anna about Cyn and her life. They didn’t doubt Cyn’s story, but they wanted to see how Anna would react and hear what excuse she gave for treating the girl in such a way. They were known for their fairness about the Kingdom and were not to change their morals. They would handle this as they did the rest of their people.

Anna looked between the two before narrowing her sight on Cyn, who no longer backed down or cringed with her stern look. She’d always been a thorn in her side and now there was no way she could lie to her Queen and live, so she admitted to everything she’d done. As her punishment, Anna was stripped of all property and title; her marriage was annulled and she was sent to be a servant in one of the family’s farms for the rest of her life.

Afterward, Trevor and Cyn had many lustily, love filled nights and days that resulted in many grandchildren for the Queen to keep busy with.

What’s in a Name?

Tristan felt his body being carried, or rather dragged, as he woke. Before his brain could rally a fight, he was dropped, none too gently, on a stone floor and heavy manacles were locked on his wrists. Large, dark shadows blocked the sight of his surroundings after the hood was removed from his head. Tristan blinked several times before his vision cleared and saw that his captors had moved toward a thick wooden door.

He stood and started after the bulky guards leaving the room but chains stopped him from moving more than a foot from the wall they were connected to.

“Where am I?” Tristan yelled. “You can’t do this. What do you want?” He received no answer.

Tristan yanked and tugged on the chains binding his wrists but they were fastened securely to the dirty, stone wall. Cursing, he looking around. The room was small and void of furniture. There was only the door the men left out of and another across from him, both closed, and both out of his reach. Tristan realized that he was in a cell, deep in the Palace dungeon, the thugs wearing royal guard clothing. He had heard stories about this place and how very few people ever left once they were brought here.

A tremble coursed through his body as he sank to the floor, his back against the wall, and knees drawn to his chest.

Time passing was immeasurable. The distant screams and clanking of chains and steel held no rhythm. Occasionally a moan or cry would sound closer, only to increase the fear that ran wild inside. He remembered going to sleep safe and warm in his home, not having a clue how he came to be here or why.

Tristan jumped to his feet when the door opened. His breath stopped as a petite blonde woman stepped in. He immediately recognized the Queen, Vanessa Stamblin.

Her garments showed her position of Royalty with their deep purple hue and silky material along with the elegant way she moved. Her appearance was out of place in the small dirty room. Behind her stood two soldiers, silent, arms crossed over their chests, and eyes narrowed on him.

The Queen approached and stood several inches from Tristan who bowed his head as he was taught. She stood there silent for a few moments but he could feel her eyes on him. Eyes that were so icy blue that they looked like frost over the sea. Feeling her intense gaze, he wanted to cover his shirtless chest but refused to act like an adolescent child.

“Stories of you have caught my attention.” Her voice broke the thick tension. The sound was smooth but not sweet to his ears.

Tristan’s brows drew together in confusion. He was the son of a simple farmer who kept to himself. He was content with his life working the land his family kept. He had yet to meet a girl who sent his heart skipping and his father had not yet pushed him into marriage, though he was of age.

“I have heard that you are able to turn sour wine into pure water.” He shook his head. “I don’t…” His voice was raspy and dry.

Vanessa put her fingertips over his lips, interrupting his protest. She knew what she was saying was untrue, but she had to have a reason for having him here. She’d seen this one come and go through the village, his muscles taut and gleaming with sweat as he brought food to market. The sight of his tanned skin and defined muscles sent waves of lust through her body.

Her husband, the King, no longer allowed her to pick common men for her harem, stating that she would leave none to farm or work. He now only allowed her slaves and criminals to add for her pleasure. But as usual, Vanessa found ways to get what she wanted.

She walked over to the second door. Pushing it open, it revealed a second small room. Tristan could see that it was filled with barrels and from the smell they were filled with sour wine.

Vanessa stepped back to Tristan, her eyes narrowing on his lips as her tongue wet her red painted lips.

“This is the way it’s going to be. You have two days to turn this wine into water.

If you can do this, you may go back to your farm and live out your life.” Tristan swallowed hard. “And if I can’t?” His voice trembled slightly as he looked down into her icy depths.

Vanessa stepped closer and placed a hand lightly on his chest. He shivered in disgust at her touch but dared not pull away. He knew she held his life in her hands.

Her hand started to glide over his smooth skin, circling a nipple. Tristan bit his bottom lip to keep from jerking from her touch like it burned his stomach, revolting and churning at her touch.

“You will become part of my harem. I’m in need of a sex slave.” Her voice was honeyed and soft, almost child like, but Tristan heard a cold tone behind the sweetness.

“My last one…well, I had to let him go.” She rose on her toes and placed a light kiss on his stiff, unresponsive lips. “Two days,” she reminded him, as she stepped back and left the room.

The two guards approached Tristan and released the manacles from his wrists before backed away. Everything inside of Tristan told him to take a chance at escape, but looking at these two men, he knew that he’d not get far.

When the door closed and the click of the lock echoed through the chamber, Tristan went to the open doorway. There were at least twenty barrels of wine in the room. Despair filled him as he slid down the doorframe. Pulling his legs up to his chest and settling his arms on his knees, his head rested on them.

His life was over. There were stories whispered in the dark corners of taverns of how the Queen treated those in her harem. Once a man entered it, he was never seen again. Some say that it was a fate worse than death. Rumors told of how all the men she kept were scarred as a result of her misuse and cruelty, and that she cared nothing of their feelings or pain. They were only alive to serve and please her. Tristan let his tears of desolation flow freely as he cried, an action he’d not allowed himself to do since his mother died when he was just a young boy.

A hand settled on his shoulder, its warmth spreading within his body. He felt comforted by the touch, it felt similar to when his mother would wrap her arms around him and kiss his hurts. Slowly, Tristan raised his head and looked into the most beautiful eyes he’d ever seen. He had never actually seen eyes like this before. They were two shades of purple. The ring surrounding her black iris was the color of wild violets. The outer ring was darker in color, like the royal garments the King and Queen wore. Thick black lashes framed them. Fairy eyes, they were called.

Tristan looked past the eyes and found a beautiful woman kneeling next to him.

Her hair was long and dark brown in color. Bright red streaked the mousy color. Her lips were deep red, the color of roses ripe in bloom, and hinted at a smile.

He reached up and wiped the tears from his face, reluctant to move from the stranger’s touch. “Who are you?” His voice was quiet and unsure.

“I’m here to help you,” she said, with a voice as sweet as honey.

Tristan laughed. “Unless you can turn all of this sour wine to water…” he said indicating the barrels. “Then you are wasting your time.” The smile fully formed making her beauty shine. “I can help.” Her calm tone sobered him. “How?”

“I have my ways. However, I require payment for my services.” The small hope Tristan held tightly to fell. “I’m sorry but I have nothing to give. I own nothing but the clothing I wear.” He looked down at what he wore, pants and an old pair of shoes, both in ragged shape. “I’m but the son of a farmer. The land we tend isn’t even ours.”

She leaned over and gently pressed her lips to his. Her tongue swept over his flesh, beckoning them to part. His lips opened, allowing her tongue to slip in. The kiss was tentative, one of exploration and shyness on Tristan’s part. As the kiss continued Tristan craved more. She tasted sweeter than honey and found himself moaning when she ended the kiss by pulling away.

“You have what I require,” she said. “You can offer yourself to me as payment.” Tristan blinked slowly at the woman, still reeling from her kiss. It took a moment for him to comprehend her words.

“Me? You want me as payment?” He was unsure he’d heard right. Her offer sounded quite similar to the Queen’s. Both women wanted him as a possession, like he was cattle. He was a simple man, unused to this kind of attention. He had to wonder what fate he crossed to be punished with such a decision.

“I shall turn every barrel to pure water and get you out of here in exchange for your oath to surrender to me.”

Tristan looked at the beauty before him, thinking of the warmth and comfort he felt when she’d touched him. Her smile was sweet and inviting. Her voice was lulling like a spell.

Silently he weighed the pros and cons of his situation. If he pushed this woman away and allowed the Queen to have her way, he would be pulled into a nightmare world, where there would be beatings and punishments at her whim. He would be completely at her mercy with no one to help him. Remembering how his skin crawled at her touch and how much evil he saw in her eyes, he shivered at the thought of being at her mercy.

On the other hand, he knew nothing of this woman in front of him. How would she make the barrels turn from sour wine? How would she get him out of the dungeon?

Where would she take him? If he chose her, would he be exchanging one hell for another?

“How can I be sure that I’m not getting myself into a worse situation than what the Queen has offered?”

“You can’t. You can only trust what your heart tells you to do,” she said, raising her hand to caress his cheek. “I promise that you will be in a better place than this. And you won’t be punished or treated cruelly.”

Tristan felt the warmth of her touch spread through his face. He resisted the urge to lean into her hand.

“And my life here? What becomes of that?”

“It will be behind you. You will have no need of it. I will keep you safe.” The woman removed her hand and he instantly felt the coolness of the cell’s air where her warmth had been. He shivered, not liking the feeling.

Knowing that he would have a short, tortuous life if he stayed there, Tristan took a deep breath and let it slowly seep out of his lungs.

“If you get me out of this dungeon and safely away from the Queen and her fury, I give you my oath and surrender myself completely to you as payment.” She nodded. “Why don’t you lie down and rest while I take care of things?” Tristan looked to the spot that held her gaze and saw that there was a pallet of straw in the corner of the cell. He knew it wasn’t there before, but before he could question it, he felt very tired and the makeshift bed beckoned him. The woman stood and helped him up and walked with him over to the pallet. In several blinks of his eyes, he was lulled into a deep, dreamless slumber.

* * * *

Tristan woke snuggled under thick covers. Grudgingly, he opened his eyes and met with bright rays of sunshine seeping in through a small window. Sleep slowly drifted from his body and he remembered the events of the previous day. He turned and found that he was no longer in the cold, dark cell. He sat up and looked around the room he’d never seen before.

Tristan threw the covers back and gave a small groan as his muscles protested the movements. His body was sore and stiff when he stood and stretched. He was barefoot and his dirty, torn clothing was gone. He now wore a clean pair of tan pants held at his waist with a tie.

“Hello?” Tristan called out.

He left the room calling out again. There was no answer. He made his way through the small cottage. It had one bedroom, a bathroom, living area, and a kitchen.

He found no one else there.

Tristan opened the only door leading out of the cottage. He stepped out onto a porch that led into a garden. Walking out he called out again but only the sound of nature answered his call. He walked around the garden in awe. It was a beautiful place filled with all sorts of flowers, all in bloom. The air smelled sweet and vaguely familiar.

A vegetable garden was set along one side of the cottage.

This gave him no clue as to where he was. He’d never seen such a place as this.

How had he gotten from the Palace cell to this place? Had he just dreamed the Queen capturing him? Or maybe this was a dream. Tristan reached over and pinched his arm.

“Ow,” he said aloud, feeling the pain but he was still in the garden.

There was a dirt path winding around the garden and Tristan found himself following it until it came to a little white gate. It was connected to a fence that surrounded the entire garden including the cottage. On the other side of the fence was a thick, dark forest. It was a strange place. Everything the fence surrounded the sun beamed down on it, but on the other side it was dark, and a little daunting.

With just a slight hesitation Tristan opened the gate and tried to walk through, only to be stopped by some unseen barrier.

Tristan cursed and pressed his hands out in front of him, making contact with something that felt as solid as a wall but couldn’t be seen. His fists pounded on it but it didn’t make a noise or budge. He rose on his toes and found that it continued higher than he stood.

Slowly he walked around the fence, his hands touching the same unseen barrier all the way around until he was once more at the gate. There was no way out, no opening for him to leave…or anyone to enter. Tristan’s anger flared. He had given up one cell to be placed in another.

His words came back to haunt him. “If you get me out of this dungeon and safely away from the Queen and her fury, I give you my oath and surrender myself completely to you as payment.” Tristan had given his word to the strange woman. He’d given his oath but he had not expected this. He had been desperate to escape the Queen. He’d let her sweet smile and sensual kiss lead him into thinking he would be safer with her, a stranger.

Tristan had given his oath willingly but that didn’t stop the anger rushing through him. What had he done to deserve this fate? Who had he angered? He stomped around the garden banging on the invisible wall here and there, hoping to break through somehow.

Passing a group of tulips, he ripped a handful of them from the ground and threw them down smashing them under his foot. He turned and grabbed several other blooms, he knew not their names and tore them to pieces before throwing them aside.

Turning back to where the tulips lay, Tristan froze. Where he had torn the tulips up from their roots he found that more stood in their places. Turning slowly in a circle, he saw that the same had occurred to the other flowers he had destroyed. All were replaced and as beautiful as the ones he’d torn up.

“It’s enchanted,” Tristan murmured, and sank to the ground. It all came together.

The beautiful woman with her fairy like eyes, how she got into his cell, how he got here.

It was magic, all of it. How was he to beat magic? How was he to get out of this with his life intact?

Sighing, Tristan got up and went back inside. He had to admit that the cottage was cozy. It had a warm feeling to it, one that caused him to relax no matter the state of his emotions. He sat heavily on the couch and before long laid down, his mind racing, but mostly focused on the woman with the strange violet eyes.

Tristan must have drifted to sleep once more because when his eyes opened again the cottage was dark except for a dim light coming from the fireplace. He turned toward the fire and met with those amazing violet eyes. He pushed off the couch quickly and started pacing the room, keeping his distance from her magical influence.

“Who are you really?” he demanded angrily. “Where am I and why are you holding me here?”

“You are safe, out of the Queen’s harm. Do you not like it here? Does it not please you?” Her voice was soft, the tone alluring.

Tristan rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the tension there. He was very frustrated despite the fact that his eyes kept going to the enticing vixen.

“It’s nice,” he sighed, shaking his head, his aggravation not lessening. “But I’m in a prison just like before.”

The woman went to Tristan. With the lightest touch, she laid her hand against his cheek. “You surrendered yourself to me. This is your home, not a prison. You will be safe from harm here.”

He pulled away from her touch as he felt his agitation calm. He wanted to feel his anger. It was something he could take hold of, something that was his and not enchanted.

“Don’t touch me. Just leave me be. Go away.”

“I can’t.” She shook her head, a little confused at his reaction. Had he not willingly given his oath to her? She had saved him from a cruel fate. Did he think that she would just leave when he said? “You are my responsibility. I must care for you.” Tristan looked at her and saw the irritation that flared in her eyes. The emotion made her eyes shine brightly, the colors nearly twinkling. He saw a glimpse of fire within her and was drawn to it. His eyes lowered to her lips and found that there was a most beguiling curve to their lusciousness. He jerked his eyes away and turned his back to her to stare at the fire.

He heard her sigh before she called his name. He fought the urge to turn and go to her. She said his name again, this time with a firm and commanding tone. His body responded before he could fight it, turning back to her against his will. His breath caught as he looked upon her unclothed body. She was seated on the couch.

“On your hands and knees Tristan.” She commanded in the same authoritative tone that made his body do her will. “Now, crawl to me and kneel.” His body responded to her commands, no matter how his muscles fought it. He found himself kneeling before her but his anger was escalating.

“What have you done to me?” he growled at her savagely. He realized that his body…no his will, was no longer his own.

“I have done nothing. It was you who gave yourself to me. By surrendering yourself you have given all to me, including your body to do with as I please.” Her eyes met his, loving the fire anger brought to him. His body was rigid and she could see his muscles twitching in revolt. He looked so alive at that moment, and she felt his emotions bursting inside of her as if they were her own.

The dark haired vixen slid off the couch and kneeled before Tristan. She leaned forward and let her lips give his a gentle caress. He was surprised when his lips responded to her touch. She deepened the kiss as he opened his mouth fully to her, reveling in her sweet taste. At that moment, he was unsure if his actions were caused by what she wanted or what he really wanted to do. Thinking of it only confused him more.

He felt her hands travel his body, her fingers brushing over his strained muscles.

Her mouth pulled away only to start laying kisses under his earlobe. Tristan tried to ignore her touch and lips as he gasped for breath. He tried to turn his mind to a matter of distraction but failed as his mind brought forth images of her eyes, lips, and body. In spite of her tricking him and his hostile attitude toward her, he couldn’t deny the desire that surged within his body. From the first moment he’d seen her, he had wanted her.

Her hot breath feathered his ear, as her voice caressed his soul. “Tristan. Touch me. Feel me. Be with me.” Her voice held no trace of the commanding tone as it had earlier. He could sense that she didn’t want to force him into this. She had given him a display of her power over him, but she wanted him willing.

Her hands were at the waist of his pants and pulled on the strings. He felt one of her hands dip inside and take hold of his hardening length. Her other hand slid up his body and gently took one of his nipples between her fingers. Tristan braced himself against her sensual touch. He tried not to show her how much she affected him, but his body was alive with tremors and longing.

Tristan’s hands finally lifted of their own accord and started their exploration of her body. He felt the heat rising from her skin. Her breath quicken as his fingers brushed over her nipples. He cursed himself and his body for wanting her so much, yet he couldn’t help himself. No matter the circumstances, he ached to be with her. These feelings were not because of her magic but because it was what he truly desired.

He pushed her back on the floor. Was that animal skin there before? The question flashed through his mind but he was soon discarded by the sight of her naked flesh stretched out before him. His primal instinct took over as his mouth traveled down her body, tasting her, devouring her. His kisses led him down to her already moist core. He took a moment and inhaled her scent. It was the same as she tasted, sweet, but it was mixed with something else. Perhaps it was the obvious magic flowing in her veins.

No longer fighting or thinking, he tentatively flicked his tongue over her clit. He felt encouraged when her body jumped in response and she let loose a low growl. He began exploring her folds with his tongue. Her moans grew louder as he began dabbing the throbbing center of her desire. Her hardened nub pulsed stronger as he sucked it into his mouth, causing her to cry out in climax. He continued gently licking her sweet juices as she came down from her orgasm.

Tristan felt her hands pull on his body. After sliding up her body she flipped him, so that he now lay on his back. He watched with hooded eyes as she slid her body down on his throbbing length. He growled out a groan and was soon lost in the sensations of her body riding him.

Tristan didn’t know how the broken moans and horse cries of pleasure torn from his body were driving his vixen wild. Didn’t know her rhythm was driven by pure lust for the mortal man that lay beneath her. It was not long before they reached orgasm, their releases so intense their cries disturbed the animals in the surrounding woods.

“This doesn’t mean I’m any happier to be here,” Tristan grumbled against her hair as they lay catching their breath.

“But it will make it more enjoyable,” she whispered, coiling her body around his.

* * * *

When Tristan woke the next morning his gorgeous vixen was gone, starting the pattern for their lives. His days were spent in the cottage or out in the garden, always alone. As the sun set she would always return to him. At first, he spent his days in anger. He hated how he had little control of his life, no matter how hard his brain tried to tell him that this life was better than the one he would have had with the Queen. He tried to keep his anger but the moment he looked into her eyes when she appeared, his anger would dissolve to be replaced by desire.

Their nights were spent finding new ways to pleasure one another. The sex was hot and passionate. Between their lusty interludes, she would ask Tristan questions about how his life had been. Tristan, once he appreciated that his life could have turned out worse, enjoyed these talks. But when he began questioning her, she gave him little information, including her name; saying that she liked it when he called her Vixen.

Time passed and as usual Tristan woke alone. Turning over to reach for her, he felt a deep ache in his chest. He wondered what she looked like first thing in the morning, wondered if she woke happy or grouchy. He wondered how it would feel to wake with her lying in his arms, her beauty greeting him every morning. Realization hit him like a ton of bricks on the chest. He was in love with his little Vixen. As each morning passed his heart stung more at not having her by his side. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. He wanted to give her children. He didn’t care if he had to live in this magical cottage until his dying days; he just wanted to be with her.

* * * *

“I love you,” he confessed later that night. A light wind passed over their naked bodies as his words were whispered into the night. “I want to spend the rest of my days with you. I want to wake to you every morning. I want you to be my wife,” he said, despite knowing she was immortal. She would never die, while he would slowly grow old and die.

Tears gathered in her eyes as she looked at him. “Tristan, I would like that very much but you know that it is not possible. Our ways are different than yours.” She lightly caressed his cheek with the back of her hand. “You have given yourself to me and I will care for you, but we cannot marry.” Her voice was sad.

“If two people truly love each other, why not?” His frustration was coming out in his tone. “You do love me, right?”

She smiled. She had already confessed how she’d watched over him for years and how she had fallen in love with him. When she saw what his Queen had planned for him, she had pleaded with her King to allow her to save him. “Yes, I love you with all my heart.”

“Then there must be a way for us to be together. I want to wake with you in my arms. I want you with me all the time; I want to father your children. I don’t care if I’m going to die one day. I want to spend that time happy with you.” She sighed and took his hand in hers. “So do I,” she acknowledged. Her fingers lightly drew circles on his hand as her mind raced. “There is…” she started softly but stopped.

“What?” He’d not been sure that she’d said anything.

“There is a way we could be together.” Her head was down, refusing to meet his eyes.

He placed his hand under her chin and lifted her head gently so he could see her face. Sadness clouded her eyes.

“Tell me.”

“You must guess my true name.”

“That’s it?” Tristan almost chuckled. It may not be the easiest task but surely he could find a way to figure out her name.

“You only have three chances. If you can say my name, we can be together the way we want.”

“Ok, so what if I can’t guess correctly after my three chances?” He wasn’t sure if he really wanted to know the answer but he had to know what he was getting into before he started spouting off names.

“We lose each other forever.” Her eyes lowered and watched her fingers, still touching his hand. “You don’t have to do this Tristan. As I’ve said before, you are my responsibility and I will always care for you. We could stay like this. Here. Until…” But she didn’t finish the sentence. They both knew the ending, despite the knowledge that he will age slower being in the enchanted setting.

Tristan gathered her into his arms and kissed her head. “I know. I’ll think about it. But one way or another, I’ll find a way for us to be together,” he vowed.

Tristan’s sleep was restless that night. Sometime before the early dawn, he slipped into a dream. He kneeled before an older man, his dark hair streaked with silver. This strange man wore clothing made of silky shining material but dark in color.

The man’s posture was regal and tall, and radiated authority and confidence.

“You have found your true love Tristan, and she has found you. Do not doubt it.

Merely look deep inside your heart to find the answers you seek. Your destiny is her eternity.”

The man faded to be replaced by the image of his beautiful Vixen, feeding a baby at her breast. He watched an image of himself go to her and kiss her lips, then the child’s head. A bright light slowly entered his dream, blinding him from the image.

Blinking, Tristan found himself alone in his bed, the morning sun shining bright into his room, beginning a new day.

All day Tristan roamed the cottage and garden restlessly. He was anxious for his vixen’s return. He wanted to tell her about his dream and see if she knew what it meant.

He knew that he had to have her, to find a way to be with her.

When the sun finally started to set she appeared before him unclothed. His worries and restlessness evaporated, leaving only a longing to bury himself between her legs, to lose himself in her body. He picked her up and carried her to their bed.

They made love with an intensity that drowned out their previous nights of passion. Their need to touch was urgent, as was their want of joining.

She cried out his name as her body trembled and released herself to its pleasure.

Tristan felt his body shudder as her body clamped down hard on him. In the instant of his orgasm, he growled the name that had risen from the deep depths of his soul.

“Mikayla!”

She gasped as his seed filled her womb creating life with their love.

Forcing the pleasure induced haze from his mind Tristan lifted his head and looked at his Vixen. She had tears running down her cheeks and her lips trembled as she tried to control her sobs.

“What is it? Did I hurt you?” He was immediately concerned, never seeing her in this state.

Her hands cupped his face. “How did you know?” she asked softly.

Tristan remembered vaguely saying a name. One that was now bursting all over his mind. “Mikayla. Is that your name?” he asked in awe. How could he have known it?

The name was unusual; he never would have guessed it.

She nodded. “Yes. You…you said my true name but…how did you know? How could…?”

Tristan shook his head. “I’m not sure but it’s like I’ve always known, it was just buried.

Mikayla smiled and kissed Tristan. “I love you.”

“I love you,” he groaned, as her kiss made him hard again.

They made love several times that night, Tristan making sure he said her name over and over before they finally fell into an exhausted sleep. When he woke the next morning, she was lying asleep in his arms. His breath stopped at seeing her beauty in the morning sun, stealing his heart all over again. She roused enough to make love to Tristan once more before she took them to see her King.

Her King was not only her ruler but also her father. He was also the man that had appeared in Tristan’s dream. Tristan opened his mouth to ask the King about the dream when the slightest shake of the older man’s head stopped him. Tristan nodded and bowed before the man, like he had in his dream.

Mikayla’s father granted Tristan immortality, stating that he and Mikayla should live as long as their love for one another did. They were married that same day and 52

Content

Mary Rayne
Trio of tales: erotically ever after

Red

Cynderella

What’s in a Name?