Unnatural Instinct: Wish

Stepping out of your sandals, you wrap your arms around his waist and press your lips against his sternum. You can feel his erection pressing hot and ridiculously hard against your bare abdomen. Your breasts squash up against his muscular chest. You feel your nipples tighten as he runs his hands up and down your back.

You shiver.

Then his strong, long-fingered hands are gently holding your face. He starts kissing you. On the top of your head, down the side of your face, along your jaw, before leaning over to suck at your neck. Quivering against him, you grab onto him for balance as your knees buckle.

He pecks you on the lips, smiling, and nudges you back towards the bed. You sit down. Then he’s swinging your legs onto the mattress. You’re panting as you gaze up at him. Your heart is thundering. It feels like your skin is on fire.

He looks hungrily down on you, his eyes darting over your breasts and abdomen and down between your legs. You suddenly wonder how many women he’s had before you. What about those women in those masks? As you gaze back into his deep gleaming eyes, you also wonder how old he is. It was never clear in the book. Thirties? Forties? It’s impossible to tell. His face has an ageless depth, like he’s seen and experienced multiple lifetimes.

Your skin prickles at the thought. Goose bumps erupt down your arms. It’s becoming harder to breathe. This is no man you’re dealing with here. What is he?

And yet even as your mind turns over so many mysterious questions and scary thoughts, you do not object as he crawls over you, knees on either sides of your hips, his white, purple-tipped hair flaring across his broad shoulders. His erection swings between his muscular thighs, flushed and long and achingly hard. You stare back into his impossible mismatched eyes.

Faerie. Elf. Demon. Ghost. Dream. Or is he really the Dark Prince?

He speaks your name and it rouses you from your thoughts. It’s like you’re dreaming inside a dream, your mind foggy, your heart beating more loudly than even the sound of his voice. He speaks your name again. It feels like you’re going to faint. Right here in his bed. Can you faint in a dream?

He speaks your name a third time and this time it pulls you above the fog.

He touches your cheek. ‘Are you with me?’

‘Y-yes,’ you whisper.

Smiling, he lowers his face to kiss your mouth, gently opening your lips to massage your tongue. His breath is sweet, his kiss thoughtful. Then he’s moving down your neck, leaving little wet patches behind. You grab his head as he lands his mouth on your right nipple. You gasp as he sucks, your eyes fluttering as he sends jolts of pleasure through your body.

You can’t believe this is happening.

He kisses down your navel. In your uncertainty, you jam your thighs together. He pauses to look up at you with his other-worldly gaze, his blue eye bright, his brown eye dark.

‘Trust me,’ he says.

You force yourself to relax.

Sliding his hands around your legs, he bends up your knees, then slowly opens your thighs. You resist a little, embarrassed. You haven’t really “taken care” of yourself down there. Not for a long time. You haven’t needed to.

It doesn’t seem to bother him as he urges you to flop out your legs. As you lie before him, open and vulnerable, he strokes your inner thighs. You shiver. Your head bangs against the headboard as he drags his finger up slowly between your lips. It’s like fire!

‘Hurt yourself?’ he says with a rakish smile.

He does it again, making you jerk. Your heart seems to wobble in your chest. Your mouth is dry. Gently, he parts your lips with his finger and inserts it into your vagina. You moan. When is he going to be inside you? Your eyes dart over him, aching to have him on top of you, his lips upon yours, his swollen shaft deep inside you, filling you up in a way you haven’t been filled up for so long.

‘Please,’ you gasp.

‘Please, what?’

‘I want you inside me.’

You moan again as he pushes his finger inside more deeply, all the way until he can’t go any further. It’s nice but it’s not enough. It’s not enough!

He pulls his finger out. Your breasts heave as you struggle to catch your breath.

’Please.’

He pulls in close between your legs until the hot, hard heaviness of his erection rests upon your pelvis. You stare at it. You stare at him.

Reaching between your legs, he gently opens you up. Slowly, his erection slides back along your pelvis as he presses the tip against your opening. His eyes are hungry, intent, his lips pulled back into a part-smile, part-grimace as he gentle pushes his way inside you.

You groan, arching your neck as your labia parts and you feel his girth slide into you. He’s big. You can feel it in the uncomfortable stretch of your vagina. But you can handle it. You’ll take him all.

He fills you up slowly. He’s almost at the end now. Then he hits your cervix and you are utterly full. He holds himself there, unmoving, his hands gripping your thighs, his hard abdomen clenched tight, his ribs sliding beneath the muscles in his sides as he pants. The flush in his cheeks has deepened. The light from the chandelier makes his eyes burn like little flames.

You grit your teeth, wondering what’s taking so long. Finally, he slowly pulls out, his tip almost pulling free before he pushes inside you again. Then he’s thrusting regularly. You claw your fingers into the mattress as he bucks his hips.

Thrusting more forcefully, he arches his neck, baring his teeth as he gazes blindly up at the ceiling. You enjoy it. You enjoy seeing his pleasure, almost as much as experiencing your own pleasure.

And it’s building quickly. Too quickly. Soon it’ll be over and then what?

You watch the sharp jut of his Adam’s apple as it bobs up and down in his throat. The cording in his neck is bulging. His grip on your thighs tightens painfully. There’s a small sting as he swells inside you to a size you can barely contain. He comes with a grunt and a shudder and a deep pulsation that seems to roll through your entire body.

His Adam’s apple bounces up and down his throat as he gasps at each following pulsation. They’re so powerful that they drive your own orgasm. A gurgle rises in your throat as you feel your vagina clamp down hard around him, tugging him in more deeply as his hot and sticky deposit blooms inside you.

He stops. Panting, you sink back into the pillows. He’s still buried to the hilt. He gasps and you feel two more forceful pulses. His face has relaxed. His eyes are back to normal. Well, as close to normal as his otherworldly gaze can be.

Loosening his grip on your thighs, he pulls out of you, and you feel the warmth of his seed pouring out. With a sigh, you rest your hands upon your breasts, closing your eyes as you dwell on the pleasure still coursing through your body.

Then you feel him sink into the bed beside you and you open your eyes again. Why does the blood fill your cheeks? Why should you still feel so awkward? Things should be easier now. But his beauty, his alienness, is too much.

‘Look at me,’ he says.

You turn your head to meet his eyes. Grabbing your hip, he rolls you towards him so you’re facing each other. He smoothes his big powerful hand down your thigh.

‘I’m so glad I found you,’ he says.

You open your lips, so many questions to ask, but close them again. Perhaps this is not the time. Maybe it’ll annoy him. He smiles and you see that his lips are slightly swollen from all the kissing. From kissing you. Your hand shakes as you dare to reach out to touch them. He lets you.

‘What’s your name?’ you ask. ‘It doesn’t say in the book.’

‘The Dark Prince.’

You raise your eyebrows.

‘I am what you make me,’ he explains.

’What I—What I make you?’

’And I know your name.’

He speaks it as he brushes your hair behind your ear. He pulls you close until your breasts are pressed up against his chest and his penis pushes between your legs. He’s still hard—and sticky. It feels nice. It feels nice to have someone treat you so lovingly. It feels so good to be in the strong arms of a man.

With a sigh, you press your face into the nape of his neck.