I rise up, sitting in his lap, and it becomes a slow but urgent dance, the rolling and popping of of my hips gradual but not gentle, his thrusts from below a little harder. He can’t keep his hand from my breasts, and I take his finger in my mouth, sucking and biting as he lifts my entire body with forceful thrusts that almost hurt.
All at once he’s on top of me and I’m splayed out on my back. He slows, lying on me as his he buries himself to the root, and pushes my wrists back, over my head, trapping them under one hand so he can slip the other under the back of my head and knot his fingers in my hair, pulling just to the edge of pain as he drives inside me with his cock and kisses me, swallowing my shuddering cries and whimpers.
My feet are free and I urge him on with my heels in his thighs, pushing him until he jerks and thrusts harder, grinding against me. I can’t tell the difference between pain and pleasure anymore, it all jumbles up into a hazy warmth that floods through my body, growing to uncomfortable heat between my legs, only to spread further. I can’t believe I was cold. I can’t believe I’m not on fire. The heat and warmth are seeping out through my skin.
He lets go of my wrists and wraps his arms around me. I do the same, looping mine around his neck as he buries his face in my shoulder. As he gets close to the edge he bites me and I yelp and squirm under him, driving him to fuck me even harder.
I try to hold myself back but my body rebels, clenches him, and he cries out, loud and guttural, as he releases inside me, explodes, and it drives me over the edge. I buck and writhe under him as a climax rips through my body, stealing my limbs and voice away as I moan and thrash, carried away on a current of pleasure that tightens the whole world to a tiny, cold point that bursts out in a fiery explosion that rips out through my whole body, only to contract down and do it again.
When I finally go limp under him, my body still gripping him inside me, he lies on top of me, his head resting on my shoulder. There are bites on his shoulders and scratch marks on his back in hot red lines, and he left his share of marks on me, too. All that energy just exploded out and now I lie with him on me like a blanket, his arms around me, his manhood inside me, growing hard again.
“Does my princess need to rest?” he murmurs, stroking sweat-heavy locks of hair from my eyes.
I grin. “No. Your princess needs another hard fucking, my prince.”
9
If you told me that one day I would be here, I never would have believed you. I’m sitting at a table in the great hall. Kristoff’s chair is only slightly bigger than mine, and I sit at his right hand, in a place of authority. It makes me nervous. My new dress fits better and leaves my arms bare, so it’s cooler during the heat of the day when sunlight pours through the enormous windows until the stones under my feet bake.
The really weird part is that this my meeting. Mostly.
“Your grace, this is most sudden…”
Kristoff silences the speaker with a look. A tall, graying man, he’s been introduced to me as the minister of education. I’ve already given them all a list of my ideas, though now that I’m pressed to actually present them to people who might be able to make the changes I’m pushing for, I feel stupid for getting myself into this.
I didn’t even finish my degree and they’re asking me how to reform their education system. The prince doesn’t say a word unless he detects a hint of disrespect from a member of his cabinet; then he silences them with a sharp word and turns to me.
Though it is not easy, I do my best not to slump my shoulders and whisper my ideas. I keep my chin up and sit straight, hands folded on my lap, and lay out my plans, such as they are. It’s all basic stuff, but from the looks on the faces of the men and women sitting around me, you’d think I was suggesting they start speaking Greek and have the teachers wear boxer shorts on their heads.
My starting suggestion is making all that day-care stuff voluntary, and though it sparks a huge argument that only ends when the prince roars enough and commands them to carry out my orders, I make the whole clinic-care-for-sick-kids optional, too. Kids with the sniffles can stay home with their mom now. Before I can say anything about it, Kristoff cuts off a question by decreeing—he can do that, he decrees things—that mothers or fathers who take a day from work to care for their children will be given full compensation.
Most of what I ask for is simple—art supplies, music, more computers.
“If you stay,” Kristoff tells me quietly, “I will place the education minister under your direct authority. The schools will be yours to operate.”
I shake a little when he tells me that. “I’m not ready for that kind of responsibility. You need experts…”
“Then find them and bring them here. I do not ask you to teach the classes, I ask you to set a direction. Leadership is not about doing, it is about finding those who can do and guiding them to your desired results.”
I swallow, hard. I’ve seen what power can do to a person, more intimately than I ever thought possible. It scares me.
So, I tell him.