Unnatural Instinct: Wish

His eyes lock onto yours as he slides in deeper and deeper, filling that painful emptiness. Your groins meet and you lean your chin on his shoulder without moving, enjoying the feel of him. Enjoying the fact that for the first time in many years you’re not alone. You could almost cry.

‘I love you,’ he whispers into your ear.

You pull back with a start. ‘You—you do?’

’I do. Do you love me?’

‘I-I do.’

He presses his face into your throat and holds you, his heart beating against yours. His penis gives a little twitch and then he’s gently rocking his hips against yours. You bite into his shoulder as the wave of pleasure begins to rise, and all the while his words won’t stop ringing in your ears: I love you.

But how can he love you when you’ve only just met? Some people do, you tell yourself. Some people even get married after a few days. Is it so far-fetched that the Dark Prince might be one of those people? Besides, he has watched you from the pages for many years. He has known you in a way. Is this just another one of your self-hating arguments?

No. Not if you really think about it. You’re fond of him. Who wouldn’t be? He’s as sexy as hell and you lust after him like you have no other man. You yearn for him. You ache for him. All you want to do is touch him and hold him and hear him whisper in your ear, but is that actually love?

You don’t know.

You suck in a breath as he rocks faster. Clawing onto his shoulders, you buck your hips, trying to keep up. He’s grunting into the side of your neck, his breath wet against your skin. He tightens his grip around your waist as he gives a sudden jerk, his lips locking onto your shoulder as he comes—and he comes hard. You can feel it, great pulsing throbs that send your body shuddering along with him.

You lean back, gazing blindly up at the ceiling as he sucks at your breast. He continues to pulse inside you, on and on, his hips bucking in time, his lips wet around your nipple. He’s lapping you as he moves onto your other breast. Then he’s kissing you down the abdomen.

Your heart seems to be burning a hole in your chest.

’I do love you,’ you gasp tearfully. ‘I do.’

He looks up, flushed, his eyes dazzling. You squeal in surprise, wrapping your arms around his neck as he suddenly stands. He turns and throws you onto the bed. Then he’s mauling you. Laughing, you grab onto his head as he sucks at your breasts, nibbles at your shoulders, licks down your jawline. His mouth locks onto yours and you kiss him hungrily back.

You wrap your legs around his hips as he kisses you all over the face. You grab his shaft, smoothing your hand over it. How can he still be so hard? He’s sticky and velvety and wonderful. You reach for his balls and find them hot and tight.

You squeeze his shaft as you latch onto his nipple with your mouth. You grab onto his arse, clawing your fingers hard into his superb muscle. Forcing you back into the pillow, he takes your legs and pushes your knees into your chest. He’s got you pinned. He licks his lips, his penis brushing your aching lower lips.

It’s so hot against your delicate tissue that it feels like it’s burning. He pushes in slowly, as though revelling in every inch of you. He slides deep inside you until he can go no further. Then he’s thrusting hard, his hands tight around your legs.

You can’t help but watch. You can’t help but watch the beautiful intensity in his face, his gritted teeth, his shining eyes. Even in the middle of sex, he looks glorious. Unbelievable. Impossible. His hair flows like white water down his shoulders. His mismatched shine like the blue of the sky and the very obsidian rock of his castle. The muscles in his chest and abdomen look like they’ve been calved out of stone by a sculptor. Perfect. Masculine.

All yours.

Every time he bucks his hips, he grunts, his gaze turning from intense to fierce to ferocious. You watch his erection. It’s red and swollen as it leaves you, gleaming stickily, before it buries into you again.

You grab onto his wrists, sucking in panting breaths as you roll with him. You’re both out of control now. The air whistles in your throat. Then it happens: your orgasm tugs hard at his shaft, pulling him in deeper as he erupts in response. You feel the hot rush of his semen as it coats your insides.

He stops, still gripping onto your thighs tightly, his shaft buried deep inside you. You’re both quiet as you try to catch your breath. Arching back his beautiful head, he groans. His grip tightens more at another hard throb inside you.

Finally, he straightens and your eyes lock. Releasing your thighs, he climbs out of bed, his erection bobbing between his lean, muscular thighs. His balls are wet. The insides of his legs are shining with your cum. There’s a pink flush up the middle of his abdomen. You blink and suddenly he’s fully dressed: stiff-collared dress shirt and his usual tight pants, finished with the usual pair of knee-high boots.

He holds out his hand. You take it. The moment your feet hit the floor, you’re also fully clothed. Back into your plunging white dress. Only this time there’s an addition. You touch the top of your head with a gasp. A tiara—or a crown.

‘You must look the part if you are to be by my side,’ he says.

Taking your hips, he turns you around to face a tall mirror standing in the middle of the floor, as though it has always been there. You stare at yourself, shocked. You’ve never looked so … glamorous in all your life. You barely recognise yourself.

You touch the blush on your cheek, the smoky eye shadow around your eye. A little silver tiara sparkles amid your hair as you turn left and right. All the doubts you had that you couldn’t match up to the stature of the Dark Prince start to fall away. Maybe you can be his equal.

He’s standing behind you, smiling proudly, his eyes twinkling. You look good together. You really do look the part. Even the plunging neckline of your dress doesn’t seem so distasteful anymore. It even starts to feel comfortable.

Sliding his arms around your waist, he kisses you on the tip of your bare shoulder. ‘Like I said, you can have everything.’

‘If I make you happy. I’m making you happy?’

‘Very much.’

You lean back into his chest.

‘Would you like to see the rest of your home?’

You grin. A home. A real home. Not just your one room in your roommate’s house. Taking up space. A non-entity. You haven’t known one since you were a child. Not just a man; not just fine clothes and beautiful jewellery.

But a home.