Unnatural Instinct: Wish

It doesn’t work. You think it does in the beginning but then the voices return. The male voice. The child’s voice. The woman’s voice. And there are other voices. Sometimes you hear them clearly. Other times they’re faint and hard to understand. They often say your name. Over and over again you hear the man telling you to “wake up”. The little girl is always calling your name. The woman sounds like she’s giving you instructions. They all seem to be speaking louder and with increasing urgency.

But why?

Why won’t they leave you alone? It would be easier. You would be happier. Why are they so intent on ruining things?

And yet you can’t stop thinking about them. They all sound sad. They mean something. They mean something important to you. You try your best not to show the Dark Prince, but you can feel him watching as you strain to listen.

You can almost see the question on his lips …

But he never asks it. He avoids it. He tries to distract you. The noise doesn’t work. Music doesn’t work. Conversation works even less. The only thing that’s even close to helpful is making love. He seems to know it, too, making sure to pleasure you as often as possible. But after so many days, even that is wearing off.

He’s pinning your hands into the pillow as he sucks at your nipples, his shaft buried deep inside you. He’s already masturbated you and tasted you and now you’re so sticky with cum every thrust sounds wet. You’re both sweating. His skin is flushed. But his need to love you seems limitless.

Hooking his arm beneath one of your knees, he draws it up to your chest so he can push in more deeply. His gaze is dark, his movements desperate. It’s starting to feel less like making love now and more like empty fucking.

He grunts as he plunges, locking his mouth onto yours as he swells and hardens inside you. You’ve already orgasmed twice recently but you can still feel the pleasure rising. No matter what, he’s incredibly skilled.

He orgasms with a long groan. You come quickly after, riding his pulsations. He slumps against you, his face in your breasts, panting. Mutely, you curl your fingers through his hair. He kisses your left breast before kissing your sternum and moving on to your lips, where he thrusts into you a little more deeply.

His lips are swollen, his cheeks flushed. Sweat beads his brow. He looks into your eyes, smiling, before slowly pulling out of you, so that you can feel every inch of his hardness. He sits between your legs, your knees on either side of his shoulders. His cock pokes out flushed and swollen from his lap. The insides of his thighs glimmer with cum. He strokes you gently over your slit, up and down, up and down. There’s a frown between his eyes.

‘You look worried,’ you say.

‘Do I?’

You sit up. Moonlight is pouring in through the windows, gleaming against his hair and skin and eyes. He looks magical.

Sliding from the bed, he stands. ‘Come dance with me.’

‘Dance?’

‘Yes. I feel like dancing.’

He looks towards the cupboard, which bangs open, revealing a pink dress. You stare at it. It looks familiar but you can’t think why.

‘That’s mine?’

‘All yours. The others are already waiting.’

The goblins. ‘They’re already waiting?’

You look back towards him and see that he’s already resplendent in a deep green jacket with the usual high, stiff collar and rather-too-tightly fitting pants.

He holds out his hand. You follow him off the bed. As your feet hit the floor, you look down with a gasp, stepping back in your white heels as the pink dress forms around you. It’s made of some kind of shimmery material that feels unbelievably smooth against your fingers. When next you look up, you see he’s wearing a black mask. You reach up to your own face and realise you’re wearing one too.

He’s still holding out his hand. You don’t move.

‘What’s wrong?’ he asks.

‘I’m-I’m not sure.’

‘Come. Like I said, they are waiting.’

You don’t move.

‘I said, come!’

Seizing your hand, he hauls you across the room.

‘Stop, it hurts!’

He turns on you and you can’t help but step back, nursing your sore hand. He towers over you, his mismatched eyes flashing like beacons behind his menacing mask. He’s so cold, so dreadful, so scary with the way he’s holding himself, as though he could destroy you with a small flick of his hand—which he probably could.

‘You’re not making me happy,’ he says in a cold voice.

‘You’re-you’re not making me happy either.’

Though you’re shaking, you lift your chin. What kind of fool have you been? The Dark Prince. The Dark Prince. He’s dark for a reason. Like the book. The book?

The book! It all comes flooding back.

‘The book! Home! My life!’ You struggle to remember. ’I’m dreaming. I’m dreaming. Those voices! Allan, Lilly!’ Your heart is pounding in your throat as you narrow your eyes accusingly. ‘What have you done to me?’

‘Done to you?!’ he snaps. ’What I’ve done to you is give you everything that you’ve ever wanted. You wished for it. You wished for me to keep you, and that’s exactly what I’ve done! Can you deny it?’

‘That’s not what I wanted,’ you say weakly.

‘It’s exactly what you wanted. You wanted to be saved and I did just that.’

Your pulse is hammering. Your eyes swivel around the room desperately.

He sneers, knowing what you’re thinking. ‘Even if you escape from this castle—and you won’t—how are you going to escape from this so-called dream? I have you stuck. You cannot leave against my will.’

He snaps out his arm as fast as a whip and grabs your wrist. Pulling you into him, he grips the back of your neck.

‘Think about it,’ he hisses. ‘You might as well stay. Be with me. Isn’t this what you’ve always wanted? Why fight it? What’s waiting for you back there?’

‘Only my life.’

‘Your life is here with me.’

‘My family.’

‘I’m your family now. Forget about them.’

You lean your head back away from him, blinking rapidly as you try to puzzle out your situation. ’My family—if I can hear them, they’re close to me, and they’re scared. I’m sleeping. I’m sleeping.’ You raise your eyes to his in horror. ‘How long have I been sleeping?’

He doesn’t answer.

’Days? Weeks? Months?’

His face shows nothing.

‘You bastard!’ You shove him hard in the chest.