Page 13
ALISTAIR
Pleasure courses down my cock and takes root at the base of my spine. By the gods, Elsie is so fucking tight . She makes my eyes roll back in my head. She steals my breath. My soul.
But as good as she feels, something is not right. She’s stiff. Not meeting me halfway. I’m so carried away on a tide of need that by the time it registers, I’ve already spent.
That was….
Utterly humiliating.
Breathing hard, I pull back. Elsie, the warm, engaging woman I’ve spent the evening with, is not there. I snap my fingers in her face. Her bright eyes lock on mine, glassy with terror.
“I have to go.”
She shoves me away with both gloved hands on my shoulders and surprising strength.
“Now?” I sputter.
“Yes. Now.”
“Wait.”
“I can’t wait.” She won’t look at me. Her spine is stiff and her movements jerky. Her gorgeous breasts, now tucked back into their silk prisons, rise and fall with rapid breaths. She’s about as calm as a spooked filly.
“At least tell me what’s wrong.” As if I don’t know. I promised her pleasure, allowed her to rush me into an encounter she wasn’t ready for, and lost control the instant I got inside her. Shame crawls along my skin. I’ve never felt like this before, and I never want to again.
“I need to leave now,” she repeats woodenly. “The spell will break soon.”
“Let it. Stay. Elsie!”
She wrenches away. I’m stuck in the throne room putting my still-hard cock back into my pants while she slips out the door and bolts.
“Damn.”
She’s easy to spot, being the only woman running full-tilt down the public gallery. How is she that fast? In my experience, ladies never move at a pace faster than a leisurely trot.
“Stop that woman!” I shout. The castle guards are as useless as ever. Walking with a cockstand is hardly comfortable, forget running with one.
Subside, damn you.
I cannot believe she’s getting away again.
“If we don’t catch Elsie, you’re never getting another taste of woman,” I mutter. Talking to my own traitorous cock like a fucking madman. I rake my hands through my hair, ready to explode from sheer frustration.
A hapless guard stands at the entrance to the ballroom. I fist his tunic. His features contort with surprise.
“Find her.” I shove him away and barge into the ballroom. Seeing me, Othmar all but abandons his partner.
The tower bell tolls the first stroke of midnight.
“Highness, I expected you to return hours ago.” Beads of sweat dot his brow. The women have been giving him a workout.
“Shut up. I found the girl.”
“Girl?”
“The one I almost ran over a few days ago. She’s here. Find her.”
He gulps. I barely notice the sweat beaded at his temples or the way he walks gingerly, like his toes have been trod upon a few too many times. The guard turns, shrugs out of his jacket, and tries to hand it to me. “I thought you just said you had her?”
“That’s your first problem, Othmar. Thinking.”
The hope shining in his face collapses. “Highness?”
I snatch the stupid jacket out of his stupid hands and shrug into it, jogging around the edge of the ballroom.
If I can get through without attracting too much attention, I can cut Elsie off before she reaches the exit.
She’s taken the long way around, through the crowded reception room.
Now that my dick has gotten the message that its services will never be required again unless we find her, I can move faster than a woman in heels and a long skirt.
Except for one impediment—women.
“There’s the prince!” one squeals excitedly.
“Is that the same man?” another asks in confusion. Damn everything and everyone, my deception will be found out and then all hell will break loose.
The bell tolls the second stroke of midnight. Then the third.
I move faster, my boots slipping on the polished wood. One glance over my shoulder has me picking up speed. Pursuers in every shade of a pastel rainbow pick up their skirts and run.
Gods damn Othmar and his impatience to be done dancing with debutantes. His timing could not have been worse.
Ignoring the women, I barge out the double doors and past the still-long line of ladies waiting for their turn with me. The weight of hundreds of eyes bears down upon me. I scan the room, searching for her.
The bell tolls a fourth time.
A flutter of white near the open doors leading to the promenade catches my eye.
“Elsie!” I shout. People crowd toward me. “Move,” I snarl, shoving them aside. I can catch her. Determination burns hot within my chest. My cock twitches, making its interest known.
Run, little princess. You won’t get away this time.
Elsie pauses on the stairway leading down to the walkway. One of her shoes has fallen off. She hesitates, reaching for it.
Then she glances up. Her bright eyes flare wide at the sight of me starting down the steps. She abandons the shoe and bolts.
I’ve lost count of the tolling bell. Damn, she’s fast . I stumble going down the steps and lose my balance, forcing me to slow down in a bid not to break my neck.
When I catch my balance, she’s gone.
I must look half-mad, screaming curse words into the darkness. There are literally hundreds of young women waiting for me to pluck one of them like a rose and make her my queen. I will have none of them.
Elsie is out there somewhere.
I’ll find her. Whatever it takes. However long it takes.
I trudge back to the castle, where Othmar and several other guards are gathered on the stone steps.
“There he is. Highness, come look. You’ll want to see this.”
Grumbling, I shove them aside and find them circled around…a shoe. The one Elsie abandoned when I came within inches of catching her on the stairs.
“Congratulations, Othmar, you apprehended a lady’s footwear.”
Upon closer inspection, it’s not just any shoe. Blue-tinged and sparkling, it shimmers with magic.
“Magic, innit,” one of the guards mutters.
I drop to one knee and pick it up. The shoe is cool to my touch, with the same fizzy sensation I felt when I touched Elsie.
“Don’t touch it, sir!” Othmar warns. Superstitious fool. Ignoring him, I rise, examining the only evidence I have that Elise exists.
Her foot is small. Not tiny, but elegantly shaped, with a high arch and narrow toes.
“This shoe is the key to finding my bride.”