Really Unusual Bad Boys (5 page)

“N
o.”

“But it is the law.”

“No.”

“But, my good princess…”

“Stop calling me that!”

They were in Damon's—
Damon's!
—bedroom. It was slightly smaller than the queen's, which was to say, the size of her apartment times two. He'd pulled her out of the arena, away from the rejoicing crowds, and now they had a modicum of privacy so she could rip him a new asshole.

“Lois, it is a great honor to be first chosen from the Bridefight, and—”

“How could you marry me without even asking?”

He didn't say anything.

“I didn't have a clue what today was about and you know it! It was a sneaky, nasty trick and you—”

“My princess shames me with her truthfulness.”

“I'm not finished,”
she snarled. They were nose to nose—well, her nose to his collarbone—and her fists were clenched at her sides. She kept them there. She was afraid if she didn't keep control of her hands, they'd load her gun and start pulling the trigger. The way she felt right now, that would be just fine. “You should be ashamed! I drop out of the sky yesterday, and today you fix it so we're married.
Married!
And if you think I'm gonna meekly trot off to your bed and be your princess and—and—”

“Give me heirs,” he prompted helpfully.

“Damn right! Well, forget it. Y'know, where I come from—”

“You are there no longer.”

“Shut up! I
know
that, you think I don't know that? Where I come from, the ladies get something called an engagement. For the benefit of the terminally stupid in this room, I will explain—”

“We also have a handfasting, but—”

“I…will…explain.
An engagement is time to get used to the idea of getting married and, oh, I dunno, plan the wedding maybe? I mean, that was it? My wedding? You making a declaration in front of a bunch of strangers and we're hitched? That blows!”

She was doing fine, working herself up into a real fury, but everything rose up and hit her all at once, like a blow. She was married in a strange place, to a stranger who could turn into a puma, and one of these days she was gonna have to be queen. So if she stayed, she had to tolerate
that,
and if she went back home, what in the world—worlds—would she be returning to?

She burst into tears. Damon looked distinctly alarmed and raised his arms as if to hug her. She kicked out at him, nearly breaking her bare toe on his shin. “Get out,” she sobbed. “Get out of here and leave me alone. I hate you.”

He opened his mouth.

“Get
out!”

He slowly turned on his heel and left. This was a perfect opportunity to do what she'd wanted to do for the last fifteen minutes, and she instantly took advantage of the situation. She threw herself on Damon's bed and kicked and yelled and cried.

 

“Lois?”

She rolled over and blinked up at the king. Her eyes felt swollen and sore. Her nose was stuffed shut.

The king was looking sorrowfully down at her. He had changed into fresh robes, and his hair was damp from the bathing room. She remained unmoved at his obvious attempt to make himself presentable before bugging her.

“We have wronged you, it is true. And now here is another truth—we do not wish it undone.”

“This is how you cheer me up? Because you suck at it.”

“Lois, we do not wish you to return. But you must also tell truths—do you honestly wish to go back? You are here because you lost something, yes? I can think of not one visitor from your world who wished to go back, in all the long years of my reign.”

“Staying here's one thing,” she grumped. “Being a princess and married without even being asked is something else.” She pulled at the hem of her robe—God, there were yards of the stuff—and blew her nose on it.

“Do you not find my son pleasing?”

“Oh, he's gorgeous and you know it,” she snapped. “And he's nice—when he's not tricking girls into marrying him—and a good fighter and he'll be a great king because he's smart and sneaky and everybody around here seems to love his ass, and he seems to like me all right, and he didn't eat me out in the desert when he had the chance, but still. He should have asked.”

“It is not in the nature of a prince of the realm to ask,” the king chided.

“Too fucking bad, Jack.”

“My name is not Jack.”

“Don't let the door hit you on the ass on the way out,
Jack.”

The king frowned down at her. “We have come to comfort you despite the many demands on our time, and now we are displeased,” he said formally. “We require you to rise and adjust to your station and greet your mate, the high prince.”

“‘We' can take a long walk off a short pier. Buzz off.”

He glared down at her. She glared back, and hiccuped. The corner of his mouth twitched—Damon's did that, too!—and then he said, “Perhaps for a bowl of
kumkoss?”

“There isn't enough candy in the
world
to get me out of this bed. Now go away!”

“It is unseemly for a lady of your station to lie abed and sulk.”

“I don't give a shit!”

“You will arise at once!”

“Wanna bet, fur face?”

He wheeled about and stomped out, looking like the world's oldest third-grader. She watched him go in gloating triumph.
Ha! Nothing's getting me out of this bed. I'm gonna lie here and sulk all damn week, if I want. Not budgin'…

Damon poked his head through the doorway. “I will retire.”

She sat bolt upright, and her complacency utterly vanished.
“Gaaaaah!
Don't you dare!”

“I only wished to come to my room for a brief rest. I had a tiring morning, in case you did not see.” He was approaching the bed with an innocent look on his face, which instantly put her on her guard.

“Fine, I'll go back to my room. I mean the queen's room. I mean…” She trailed off. Where the hell
was
she going to go? If she stayed in the castle, she had to sleep either in the dead queen's chambers, or with Damon here in his chambers, or…what? “Jeez,” she said, “I wonder…maybe I should wish myself home and this whole thing will seem like a narcotic-induced dream. Maybe I—
mmph!”

Damon had pounced on the bed, jumping a good eight feet across the room, and landed on top of her with one of his big hands clapped over her mouth. “Do not,” he warned, his eyes two inches from her own. “Do not wish yourself away.”

“Myyyyy uzzz ussss inking, ooooo oron!”

“Do you swear not to wish yourself away today?”

She glared at him over his fingers.
“Gnnnngggnnggghh, ooo urg!”

“Do you swear, Lois?”

“Mmph.”

He removed his hand. She made a fist and thumped him in the middle of the forehead. “I was just thinking out loud, you moron. Don't pounce on me like a big cat. Even if you are one sometimes. I just about peed the bed.”

“I apologize if you were startled. I did not wish to make you pee. I was unwilling to give you up so quickly.” He shifted so he was lying beside her, propped on one elbow.

She rolled on her side so they were facing each other. “Look, what
is
it with you? And me? I'm a nobody.” He opened his mouth.
“Don't
interrupt again! I'm not anybody important, and you're gonna be king someday. You could have anybody you wanted.”

“That is true. And now I have.”

“No, seriously.”

“Yes, seriously.”

“Damon! I mean it.”

“As do I. Lois, did no one ever tell you? You are beautiful and courageous and wry and if those things were not enough for me—and they are, good lady—you bear the marks of a warrior.”

“That's cellulite, Damon.”

“You have fought battles.”

“Battles with Ring Dings and Ho Ho's, yeah.”

He ignored her lame-ass jokes. “You willingly place yourself in danger to help others. This is the true mark of a queen; this is why you were meant to be my mate. I—I did not ask you because it seemed obvious to me. To my family. And because once I found you, I did not wish to look for another. Nor did I wish to lose you to another. Did you not wonder why my good brothers and my father were also vying for your hand?”

“Oh, God, now you've given me a whole new thing to fret about.” Against her will, she felt a warm glow at his words, which rang with sincerity. “You mean I could have been your stepmother?”

“No.” This was said with such finality that she didn't crack a joke. “But we did feel it was fortuitous that you should arrive at such a time, during the Bridefight.”

“Yeah, about that…you guys do that every so often, to pick wives? From princes on down? So it's like—like a Canis Royale? Except you're all cats. So what would that be? What's Latin for ‘cat'? Felis Royale? Felix Royale? Shit. I took Spanish in high school, which isn't exactly helpful right now. Gato Royale?”

He waited until she was finished babbling, then said, “I do apologize, because I did you wrong. I thought—I thought you might be happy to be queen one day and if you were not happy…I hoped you would like me in time and be glad you stayed, and were my mate. I knew you had nowhere to stay, and thought you would wish to stay here. With me.”

“I
did
like you, before you pulled this stunt, you big goober. Now I've got to wonder what else you have up your sleeve. When you bother to wear sleeves. Thanks for getting dressed before coming in, by the way.”

“I did see you attempting to look everywhere but below our waists,” he teased. “Are you never allowed to run free in your own land?”

“It's heavily discouraged,” she said dryly. “And I've arrested my share of nudists. It's actually against our laws to be naked in public.”

“It is breaking a
law?”
He gaped at her.

“Uh-huh.”

“But what a good thing you are here now! You should not be forced to cover your skin if you do not wish it.”

“It really hasn't been a problem before. Listen, Damon—now what? I mean, I can't stay here and be—you know. Married.”

“Why?”

She sputtered. “Wh—because—we—well, we haven't even known each other two days, how about that?”

“This is not uncommon in my world—which is now your world,” he pointed out.

She grunted and started to sit up, but he threw an arm across her middle and pulled her back down. She wriggled briefly, but it was like she was a tree trying to get free of the ground. “Oh, come on,” she said, disgusted.

“Peace, Lois. I need rest, and I daresay you do, also. If you wish to leave in the morning, I will not stop you.”

“…really?”
Now, why was that so damned disappointing?

“Really. But for now, rest. Perhaps things will seem less odd in the morning.”

“Don't bet on it.” But she let herself relax against him. She
was
tired. Exhausted, more likely. A shitload had happened in forty-eight hours. It was enough to make any girl's head spin. And she wasn't just any girl. She was the goddamned princess of the realm.

Even in her head, it sounded ridiculous.

The last thing she felt before she fell asleep was Damon's hands, gently stroking her back.

S
he slept deeply, which was still a novelty to her. At home she'd slept poorly, if at all—her throbbing knee had killed her sleep and her dreams. But here there was no pain, and each night falling asleep was like sinking into a luxurious cloud. It was better than all the Ambiens in the world.

It was hard to worry about her problems—didn't take her long to get a whole new bunch of them, either—when she was so sinfully comfortable.

And she was
warm,
really very warm, but it felt wonderful, and smelled wonderful, and she stretched, luxuriating in the sweetness, and why was her blanket nuzzling her neck?

She opened her eyes. She couldn't see Damon's face, because it was pressed into her throat. He was kissing her throat and gently nibbling the flesh between her ear and shoulder. Goose bumps raced up her entire left side. She smacked his shoulder, which was not unlike smacking a cinder block.

“Rest!” she hollered at the ceiling. “You said
rest.”
There wasn't much light—so, the wee hours of the morning, then. Or the middle of the night. “Sneaky bastard.”

He pulled back and looked at her. The light was poor, but she could see the gleam of his eyes, even in the near-dark. “Please,” he said huskily. “Please, Lois.”

“This isn't another trick, is it?” she said suspiciously. She was out of breath, which was irritating. “If we do the wild thing, it doesn't mean I'm fated to be the dowager queen or have kittens or something, does it?”

He blinked. “No.”

“And it doesn't mean you're off the hook, right?”

“Off the—no, I don't believe so.”

“Okay. Just so we're clear. This doesn't mean anything, and I'm still mad at you.”

“Agreed.”

“Okay. Then love me, you big idiot. Right now.”

So he did. And she was lost.

He was hands and mouth and tongue and teeth, and big glorious dick. She hadn't seen one that size since—well, ever. Ropy with veins and throbbing against her hand and thrusting out at her from a nest of gingery pubic hair, she stroked it and played with it and marveled at it while he groaned against her neck. Then his mouth was on hers, his tongue was stroking her teeth, and his hands were rubbing up and down her body. It was relaxing and arousing at the same time.

“Ummm,” she said into his mouth.

“Lois, you feel—you—oh, my good princess—”

She bit him. Unfortunately, he liked it. “Don't call me that, goob, you know I hate it.”

He stopped licking her nipple long enough to look up and slyly ask, “Not even in the privacy of our own chambers?”

“Your
own chambers.”

“Ah, yes.” He nibbled the flesh around her nipple, which made her want to scream, or bite, or something.

“Seriously,” she gasped. “You're gonna wreck this by pissing me off.”

“I would never dare anger my princess.”

“Daaaaaaaaaaa
-mon!” By now she was giggling too hard to sound impressively angry, and worse luck, he knew it, because he was doing plenty of laughing on his own. “You're a creep, an unrepentant asshole creep, and as soon as you make me come, I'm going to kick the shit out of you.”

“Only a trueborn princess would dare talk to me in such a way,” he whispered in her ear, and then nipped her earlobe.

“That's your explanation for everything,” she griped, and reached down to tickle his balls.
That
stopped the teasing, she was happy to see.

He rolled her over onto her back and pushed her thighs apart. She squirmed against him, more than ready—
eager
—for what he had. He leaned down and licked her lower lip. “Now?”

“Yes.”

Suddenly his fingers were between her legs, holding her apart, and she was reaching down to help him, and wriggling to meet him, and then he was filling her up, ah, God, he was so thick and so
long,
and warm, so deliciously warm, and what was he doing, coming inside her so slowly? Was he being paid by the hour?

She locked her legs around his waist and tightened her grip. Roughly, she grabbed his shoulders and yanked him down…and kissed him hard. “Are you going to do this in slow motion?” she growled, “or are you going to fuck me?”

“If I take your meaning correctly,” he panted, and his voice was so thick she could barely understand him, “I will fuck you.” Then he slammed into her the rest of the way, and a shriek of pure lustful joy gurgled out of her.

The giant bed was actually squeaking in time with their thrusts, and she hadn't thought anything could budge it. She could feel his warm, firm chest pressed against her breasts, and she tightened her grip even more. She didn't ever want to let the big idiot go.

“Lois.”

“Ah, God.”

“Lois…this does not hurt?”

“No, and don't you dare stop.”

“Not even if I wished, my good Lois. My own…Lois…”

“That's a…little better…than princess.”

“My own Lois.”

“Yes…like that.”

She could feel his cock digging in and out of her, heard his harsh pants in her ear, felt his smooth muscles working toward their pleasure. His mouth found hers and she sucked his tongue into her mouth and felt him start in surprise…then eagerly deepen their kiss. His pure delight in their coupling tipped her over the edge; she clutched him around the waist as her orgasm bloomed through her like a dark flower. He was right behind her; his grip firmed until it was just short of pain, then she actually felt him spurt inside her.

They didn't move, or speak, for a minute or two. Just lay there, locked together, panting. Finally, Lois couldn't stand it anymore and broke the silence. “Holy shit.”

“Is that good?”

“That's unbelievably, amazingly good. Um. Yum!” She tickled his ribs. “Rest up so we can go again.”

He groaned and laughed in the same breath. “My Lois, you are insatiable.”

“Actually, I'm frigid as hell, until I stumble across someone who knows what he's doing. And that was too sweet for a one-time-only thing.”

“Ah. Then you will stay?”

She growled in response.

“For another day,” he amended. “Stay through the next sunset, and then you can decide again.”

A choice! Better yet, a way to save her pride. “Okay,” she agreed. “One more day.”

“Yes.”

“Just one, though.”

“Yes, my Lois.”

“And your dad better not get his hopes up for grandchildren, either.”

“No, my Lois.”

“Because if we only do it three or four times in the next day or two—or three—the chances of my getting pregnant are pretty slim. Assuming we can even have kids. I mean, hello? Different species?”

He yawned. “Yes, my Lois.”

“You think you've won, don't you?”

“Yes.”

“We'll just see about that,” she said. Then, “Is that you making that noise?”

“Yes.”

“Well, jeez, how am I supposed to get to sleep with all that purring?”

“You will find a way, my princess—
oof!”

“You're still in the doghouse, buster.”

“I shall endeavor to get out, then.”

She cuddled up to him. “As long as we've got all that straight.”

“It is straight.”

“All right then.”

“I love you.”

“Back atcha, you big jerk.”

 

Several hours later, she stretched, rolled over, and opened her eyes. And yelped. Damon was propped up on one elbow, staring at her.
“Gaaaah!
Don't do that. Cripes, how long have you been watching me?”

“I do not know exactly. I was wakeful and it pleased me to look upon you.”

She blinked at him. Her eyes had adjusted to the dark and she could see him perfectly well. “What time is it?”

“It will be sunrise soon.” He bent to her and started nibbling the flesh between her neck and her shoulder. “And as long as you are awake, and I am awake…”

She chuckled. “You're insatiable.”

“Indeed. Also,” he added slyly, “it is my Bride-night. Such things are not uncommon on such a night, or so I am told.”

“Don't start that again. As far as I'm concerned, this is just like any other night.”
Any other night on a different world with a prince husband.
“Although…” She wriggled and rolled, and in a second she was straddling him. “I've had about enough of you taking the initiative, boy-o.”

He looked vaguely alarmed. “What does that mean?”

“It means that this time,
I'm
in charge.” She bent down and kissed him on the mouth, then the chin, then the throat. She stroked his nipples with her fingers and scratched lightly. He shifted beneath her and sighed.

“That is fine with me, Lois. If you get annoyed, you could bite me again,” he added hopefully.

“Pervert.” She licked his nipples and nuzzled the skin between them. She moved lower, kissing her way down his chest and stomach and thighs, until she was gripping his cock with one hand. She inhaled his musky male aroma, then leaned down and carefully sucked one of his balls into her mouth.

“Loissssssssss,”
he groaned. “What are you doing?”

She was still holding his dick, which was throbbing enthusiastically. She pulled back and licked the creamy drop off the tip. “What, you have to ask?” She licked the base of his dick, then slid her tongue all the way to the top, then down again, then up. Both his hands fisted in her hair; his breath came in ragged gasps. She straddled him again and guided him inside her. He seized her hips and thrust just as she came down to meet him.

“Oh, that's nice,” she groaned at the ceiling as she began to ride him. “I can feel you in my throat.”

“Lois…”

“Nice.”

“Oh, my Lois.” He pulled her down to him, kissed her hungrily, then caressed her breasts, drew her closer still, and sucked one of her nipples into his mouth. Meanwhile, she was still shifting her hips up and down to meet his thrusts, and when his tongue rasped across her nipple, she tipped over into orgasm. She cried out and rocked faster, then pulled back, seized him by the ears, and kissed him, shoving her tongue in his mouth, his luscious, hot mouth.

He sat up, pushed her back, and without breaking contact—without slowing their thrusts—suddenly she was flat on her back and he was surging between her thighs, working over her, sweat shining on his forehead as he pumped into her.

“Lois,” he husked.

“Oh, God.”

“Poor Lois, you will have to take me for some time. I am far from release.”

She screamed as she came again, then locked her legs around his hips and thrust back at him. She was throbbing, and even though she'd come twice, she wanted more, had to have more. “Oh, God, Damon, that's so good. You're so big and it's so good.”

“Because of you, Lois.” He bent, kissed her softly, and when his fingers closed over her nipple and he pinched her lightly, she came again. “Only because of you.”

She lost count of her orgasms. Everything was his cock and her cunt and their thrusts, his hands and mouth, the way he whispered in her ear and the smell of their sweat, their heat. Finally she was clawing at his back and begging him to come, almost sobbing, and then his eyes rolled back and he thrust once more, hard, and then he was spurting into her.

He collapsed beside her, breathing hard, and they lay like that for quite a while. Then he pulled back, kissed her softly, and cleaned her. Thoroughly. With his tongue.

She thought she was done, she thought it was impossible to have another orgasm, to wring another drop of pleasure from their time together, but when his tongue licked her out and swept over her clit, she thrust her hips toward his face and moaned at the ceiling.

He sighed and came up to her, and cuddled her into his arms. “Oh, my Lois. I love that sound you make.”

“And I love your fucking
tongue.”
She kissed the hollow of his throat and breathed in his clean sweat. “God, Damon, you're really something.”

“I am something,” he said, stroking the curve of her hip and arranging the covers over them. “I am your mate.”

She was too tired to protest and immediately dropped off into sleep.