Fantastical

Chapter Fourteen I Wasn’t Myself

I heard the sound of heavy draperies being pulled back, bright sunlight touched my closed eyelids and I felt my mouth curve in a satisfied smile.

Hell, if it was physically possible for me to purr, I would do it.

I was on my belly, naked as the day I was born. I felt the covers were up over my bottom, exposing my back and I stretched out my arms, arched my back into the bed and opened my eyes.

I was thinking of all my princess instruction, and there was a lot of it, three and a half lessons (the half was Tor going down on me and it must be said, the man could use his mouth), and just how much I liked every nanosecond of my lessons (and boy, did I like it) when I looked around the massive room expecting I’d see a handsome (hopefully naked) man letting in the light.

But I didn’t.

I saw a buxom woman wearing a kerchief on her head, a long, white apron pinned to the front of her long dress and a dour expression on her face.

Eek!

I yelped, yanked up the covers and whirled to my back, lifting up to sitting.

She crossed her arms on her chest and glared virtual daggers across the room at me.

“Uh…” Shit! “Heya,” I called.

“Your breakfast, your grace, will be served in your sitting room,” she announced in a cold voice.

“Um… my sitting room?” I asked.

She stomped to a door and slapped a hand on it then turned back to me.

“Sitting room,” she said on a near snap. “Of course, I understand, it being so long since you’ve slept in your husband’s bed, you’d forget.”

Oh dear.

“Uh…” I mumbled.

“I’ll leave you to dress but I’ll speak to you during breakfast regarding any of your instructions for my staff.”

She said “my” in a highly proprietary way leaving me to understand precisely what she meant.

They were not Cora’s staff. They probably were Tor’s but they were definitely not Cora’s and in his absence, whoever she was, they were also definitely hers.

“Um, okay,” I said softly.

“If you see one of my staff in the meantime, I’ll ask you to delay in any instructions you might have for them until you can share them with me.”

I was thinking Tor didn’t pay enough attention last time Cora was there. I was thinking Tor was wrong about just his men hating her because she didn’t warm his bed. I was thinking Cora was an even bigger bitch than ever and that was saying something.

“I can do that,” I replied carefully.

She nodded her head once.

“I’ve laid out your clothes. Those and anything else you may need for your toilette,” she stomped to another door and slapped a hand on it, “will be in your dressing room. If you would be so kind,” she spat the last two words, “ten minutes before you require it, pull the cord so we’ll know when to serve your breakfast.”

“Sure thing,” I said quietly, she squinted at me, sniffed then stomped out of the room wafting so much frost in her wake, I shivered.

Then I looked around the room wondering where the fuck Tor was.

Then I slithered around on the bed searching the sides for my nightgown, found it, snatched it up, pulled it on and darted to the privy off the bathroom thinking thanks, Cora, just what I need, another mess you’ve gotten me into.

As requested, ten minutes prior to needing it, I pulled the pale blue velvet, tasseled cord in the dressing room (a very pretty room, a lot smaller than the bedroom, painted a soft yellow accented in pale blues, creams and lavenders with a beautifully painted screen, a chaise lounge covered in lavender velvet and a dressing table topped with a bunch of fancy bottles and other fairytale land beautification detritus).

I found my time in the dressing room a little nerve-wracking considering I didn’t entirely understand the clothing that was laid out for me.

I mean, there was a lot of it. I couldn’t possibly have to don it all.

Then I realized that it wasn’t one outfit, but a selection.

I made my selection and noticed two things. One, these clothes were of far superior quality to what I had been wearing and two, they were very different than what I had been wearing.

And they were exquisite.

So I made my selection. Then I perused the bottles on the dressing table (mostly scent, not all gardenia, a vast selection, so I picked something musky yet floral) but there was some powder, blusher and even kohl pencils.

I dabbed on scent, decided against attempting makeup and started dressing.

After pulling on another pair of lovely panties (these pristine white), I put on a cream, silky, lacy chemise and over that I pulled on a soft purple dress made of a light, flowing silk. The scooped neckline was way low, (indeed, without the lace of the chemise peeking over it, it would almost show my nipples), the waistline was empire (thus accentuating my breasts and drawing attention to the delicate lace) and the skirt was mostly straight with a beautiful drape and a slit up the front that also exposed the cream silk chemise. And last, the waistline was heavily, and magnificently, embroidered in a darker purple with hints of silver.

Then I slid my feet into deep purple satin slippers.

Then I went to the carved box on the dressing table where I’d seen some ribbons and hair clips and selected a pair of clips that were filigree silver with purple stones adorning them that looked like real amethysts. I pulled my hair back on either side but let the back fall long and I looked in the mirror.

I didn’t look half bad but I also didn’t look like a fairytale princess

I guessed it would have to do.

I pinched my cheeks on the way to the sitting room and when I arrived I found another pretty room decorated in blues and peaches. There were comfortable chairs set in front of a wide, arched, multi-diamond-paned window, another chair with a round, button-topped, tassel-bottomed ottoman in a corner and a small, round, spindly-legged table in the middle accompanied by two chairs, their poofy, button-topped seats a plush peach.

This table was laid with ornate silver, china, a crystal vase holding a single, perfect peach rose and it also held my breakfast which appeared to be French toast dusted with powdered sugar and covered in sliced strawberries, something rich, creamy and yummy-looking oozing out of the middle, coffee, orange juice and a jug of water with actual ice.

My stomach growled and my eyes shot to the other thing in the room, the still dour-faced, buxom, kerchief-wearing, apron-dressed woman who clearly hated me.

I pinned a bright smile on my face. “Good morning,” I greeted and looked down at the food. “This looks –”

“If it pleases your grace,” she interrupted me, “I’ll say what I have to say while you eat, you can give me your instructions and I’ll take my leave.”

At her words, my step faltered and I stopped.

Then I moved slowly to the table, pulled out a chair and seated myself while saying softly, “Yes, please, that sounds perfect.”

She approached the table but didn’t get too close, either because she couldn’t stand being in the same space as me or she thought I had the power to strike out and sink fangs into her.

I poured coffee from a sliver service into a china cup and she began.

“The last time you were here, your grace, you made it very clear that our service was… wanting,” she started.

Oh shit.

“This time,” she went on, “we will endeavor to meet your every whim to your exacting standards. I just require that you relate those standards to me prior to your expecting them so that I can educate my staff in what you will be requiring. That way, I won’t find my girls in fits of tears or need to talk others out of leaving their employment on the spot.”

I stared up at her.

Holy crap! What on earth did the other Cora do? Jeez!

“Um…” What could I say? “I was…” Shit! “Uh, out of sorts last time I was here. In fact, I wasn’t…” Drat! “Entirely myself. It seems that I caused some upset.”

“Indeed!” she replied tartly.

“Well…” I started, pulled in a deep breath and leaned slightly toward her.

Instantly, her upper body reared back.

Yep, she thought I could strike out with my fangs.

Yikes.

I decided to sally forth and finished, “I’m very sorry about that. Very sorry. I was… it was… unforgiveable but I want you to know, and please tell your girls, that I am truly, very sorry.”

She blinked.

Then she rallied and snapped, “Fine. Now, do you have any specific instruction?”

“Um… can I, uh… can you ask me that again in a few days? I’d like to get my bearings.”

“With all due respect, your grace, no,” she answered shortly. “As I explained, I would like to know exactly what you require before you require it.”

My mind whirled. Then I thought of something.

“Okay, well, um, I don’t like celery,” I told her.

“Noted,” she clipped and then glared at me as she waited for more.

“And, um, my husband doesn’t like that gardenia scent.”

Her brows shot to her hairline. “That is, as you know, your grace, your specifically requested scent. You did, as you know, your grace, make rather a fuss about it last time.”

Uh-oh.

“It’s lovely. I mean, I think it’s beautiful. Utterly perfect,” I lied. “But Tor doesn’t like it so, perhaps –”

“Noted,” she bit off curtly.

Oh boy. She wasn’t melting at all.

“Okay, well,” I kept trying. “I was wondering, if Tor can’t do it, could someone take me for a tour of –”

“The kitchens,” she finished for me. “Of course, it’ll be arranged immediately.”

“No, I meant the castle,” I explained and her head cocked sharply to the side.

“You had no interest the last time.”

Of course I didn’t.

“Well, I wasn’t, uh… myself the last time.”

She nodded once. “Noted.”

I bit my lip. Then I asked, “Where is Tor?”

“He has, as you know, your grace,” she stated tersely, “been away for some time. He has things to do and those things, I hope you don’t mind if I be so bold as to inform you, don’t all involve dancing attendance on you.”

Lordy, but she hated Cora.

“Right,” I whispered.

“So he’s doing them,” she concluded.

“Of course,” I replied.

“Is there more?” she snapped.

“I don’t think so,” I answered.

“Last time, there was more.”

I bet there was.

“Well, if so, I’ll be certain to speak to only you about it,” I promised.

“Fine,” she clipped. “And how long will you be gracing us with your presence this time? Will you be leaving this eve?” she asked hopefully.

“Uh… no.”

Her expression finally changed but only to obvious disappointment.

Yeesh.

The door behind me opened, she looked over my head, her eyes got big and I twisted in my chair just in time for Tor to get there and pull me right out of it and into his arms.

Then, kid you not, right in front of the woman, his head descended and his mouth captured mine in a long, wet, hot, racy kiss that left me with my arms wrapped tight around his neck, my body arched against the length of his and my lungs breathless.

His mouth went away nary an inch when he lifted his head and his eyes found mine.

“Good morning, wife,” he whispered.

My belly melted.

God, how I wished the last word in his sentence was actually true.

“Good morning, husband,” I whispered back.

He grinned and his arms tightened, pulling me even closer.

“How are you this morning?” he asked an outwardly innocent but totally intimate question in a low, slightly husky, intimate voice which meant no one could miss the intimacy.

One of my arms slid from around his neck so I could cup his jaw with my hand.

“Very good,” I whispered and the fingers of his hand that was splayed at my hip dug in.

“How good?” he murmured.

“Very good,” I murmured back.

His grin turned wicked.

The area between my legs pulsed.

“How are you?” I asked.

His fingers dug deeper. “Very good,” he growled and I liked that he was, so I pressed into him.

His eyes went to the table then back to me.

“You haven’t had breakfast?” he enquired.

My hand slid down to his neck. “I think I slept in.”

That got me the wicked grin again. Then he said, “I have things to do, love. Can you find ways to stay occupied?”

“I think so,” I replied, though I wasn’t certain since the only person in his castle that I had really talked to clearly detested me and the rest the other Cora had set to fits of tears or threats of quitting, I was wondering if I should leave his rooms.

“Only stupid people get bored,” he muttered, my body stilled and then I felt my face go soft.

“That’s what my Mama told me,” I whispered.

He grinned at me again, this one wasn’t wicked, it was warm. It was a close call but I reckoned I liked the warm one even more.

Then he turned his head to the side, lifted his chin and asked, “You’ll take care of my bride, Perdita?”

Hesitantly, I turned my head to the side and took in the clearly astonished, pale-faced woman called Perdita who was staring at us with rapt attention and complete shock.

“Perdita?” Tor called and she lurched.

“Yes, your grace?” she answered.

“You’ll look after Cora?” he queried.

“Of… of course,” she replied.

“Excellent,” he muttered, gave me another squeeze to get my attention, I looked at him and he commanded, “Now give me a kiss before I go.”

I tilted my head to the side and teased, “Earning my French toast?”

His brows drew together. “Your what?”

“French toast,” I replied, tipped my head to the table and his gaze followed, “breakfast.”

His eyes came back to me, they moved over my face, something I didn’t understand working behind them then he corrected, “Custard toast, Cora.”

“Custard toast?”

“That’s what we call it.”

“Oh,” I whispered.

Yum. That sounded way better.

“Sweets,” he called and I focused on him. “My kiss.”

Feeling Perdita’s eyes on us, I got up on my toes, touched my mouth to his and intended to give him a chaste kiss but his head slanted, he leaned into me, his mouth opened over mine and chaste was a fleeting memory.

I was breathing heavily when his head lifted.

“Don’t get into any trouble,” he warned.

“I won’t,” I panted.

He grinned. Then he stated, “I’m not jesting, be good.”

My head tilted in confusion. “I’ll be good.”

“Like a princess would be good,” he clarified and I felt my eyes narrow.

Then I snapped, “Tor!”

“Cora,” he returned.

“All I can be is me,” I informed him, he stared at me then he sighed.

Then he turned his head to Perdita and announced, “My wife can be stubborn and she gets things in her head. If she tries to save a wounded bird, invite every innkeeper in the city to dinner or the like, stop her. You have my permission.”

“Tor!” I cried, trying to pull away but he pulled me back.

“You’re a princess; you’ve got to stop being so damned friendly.”

“You didn’t complain about how friendly I was last night, three times,” I returned only to hear Perdita gasp.

Crap!

My head whipped around to Perdita and I babbled, “I’m sorry. So sorry. So, so, so, so sorry. That was rude. I shouldn’t –”

“It’s fine,” she cut me off, her dour expression gone, she was, dear God, was I seeing things right? She was smiling and it was glowing. “Perfectly fine.” She bustled to the door repeating, “Perfectly fine.” She stopped at the door and looked at me. Then she floored me by finishing, “I’m glad to see, your grace, that this time you’re more yourself.” Her eyes flitted to Tor then to me, then she lifted a hand and called merrily, “Cheerio!” and she disappeared.

I blinked at the door.

“What’s this about being more yourself?” Tor asked and I looked up at him.

Jeez, did making out with Tor and starting to bicker with him win over the frosty housekeeper?

God, I hoped it was that easy.

“Nothing,” I muttered. Then pushed on his shoulders. “Go, be a prince, rule your princedom, I have a castle to peruse and innkeepers to ask to dinner.”

His arms got tight and he growled a warning, “Cora.”

I rolled my eyes then rolled them back to his face. “Oh, all right, I won’t ask any innkeepers to dinner.”

He studied me then shook his head and his mouth twitched. Then he gave me another squeeze, a brush of his lips against mine, he let me go and walked to the door.

When he had it open and was halfway through, I called, “Is it okay if I ask their wives?”

He turned, speared me with a glower, I grinned at him, his glower disappeared when he winked at me, my breath caught at how damned hot he could wink and then he vanished behind the door.

“I need to go home, I need to go home, I need to go home,” I whispered my prayer into the falling night as I sat curled up in a padded, iron chair in a secluded corner of one of the many balconies in Tor’s huge castle. “I’ll miss Tor and I’ll hate leaving him but please, please, please God, send me home.”

The people were lighting their lanterns, windows were beginning to glow and the street lamps were being lit.

And I was crying.

Nope, I wasn’t crying. I was sobbing.

Nope, I wasn’t sobbing either. I was bawling.

Because, outside of the day the curse started, that day was the worst day in my entire life – the short one I’d led here and the long one I’d led at home. Both of them. The worst day ever.

And I needed to go back home because the people here hated me.

Nope, they didn’t hate me, they detested me.

Nope, that wasn’t right either, they didn’t detest me, they loathed me.

And they were not to be won over by bright smiles and politeness and I hadn’t seen Tor all day for them to be won over by us making out or bickering.

No, that day for the first day since I arrived in this world, I had to go it alone. And alone I went it, touring the castle and the city before I could take no more, slunk back and decided that I might be falling in love with a warrior prince, and he was pretty magnificent (in bed and out of it) and his world was beautiful, but I couldn’t take this.

I couldn’t take it.

I had found out that the other Cora had been there three days… three days… and in all her bitchiness she had left devastation in her wake. She was cold, imperious, demanding, haughty, impolite, patronizing and even cruel.

In all likelihood she hadn’t offended everyone in the entire city; she didn’t have superpower nastiness like Minerva had. But she did enough damage to those she came into contact with that it was clear rumor had run rampant.

The further fact (I’d heard whispers) that she had nothing to do with Tor, who was beloved (I’d heard straight out comments muttered loudly behind my back or around my person) not to mention the future king and therefore responsible for siring an heir to secure the kingdom (which she was stopping him from doing, again, I learned this from straight out comments) didn’t make her popular at all.

In fact, people thought there was something wrong with her (as they would, Tor was hot and his princedom was awesome) and whatever was wrong was no good.

As with Perdita, they didn’t even try to hide their contempt for Tor’s wife. Glares, scowls, catty, loud comments and one man even spit in the path behind me as I wandered the cobbled streets wishing to explore, be friendly and experience Tor’s city.

But the spitting, which was horrid, wasn’t the worst.

It was the maids I heard talking as I passed them in the castle after giving them a cheerful smile.

“He doesn’t like her gardenia so now she’s wearing one of his other women’s scents that we left in her room,” one whispered loudly and then joined in with her mate’s giggles.

One of his other women’s scents. That vast collection of bottles were left behind by Tor’s other women.

And the collection was vast.

And I was wearing one.

That tiny tear in my heart that started our night at the pub which I thought was long since mended split painfully further.

I was a friendly person, I was social person and I considered myself pretty strong. I’d weathered being switched to a whole different world and warrior princessed my way through a fight with the vickrants, for God’s sake.

But I was not friendly enough, social enough or strong enough to endure the quantity and intensity of hate coming at me that day.

In fact, in the end, I felt almost unsafe without Tor to watch over me.

And without Salem or Aggie (I was scared to ask anyone where I could find Perdita so I could ask for Aggie, so I didn’t), I spent hours with not a single kind soul around me.

And that was enough.

I could bear no more.

So I needed to get home before something bad happened. Like I fell in love with Tor or got stoned to death by his people.

“Please God, send me home,” I whispered through my tears as the beautiful vista lay before me, a vista no one in their right mind would ever wish to leave but one from which I had to escape.

“Cora!”

I heard Tor’s voice shouting my name. It wasn’t close but it wasn’t far.

Shit!

I hunched deeper into my chair and hastily wiped my face with the drenched, lace-edged handkerchief I found in the huge, walk-in wardrobe in Tor’s room.

“Cora!”

There it was again. And it was closer.

Crap!

The handkerchief wasn’t working so I dashed my fingers across my face, thankful that I hadn’t attempted any makeup heroics with the kohl pencil.

I heard boots on marble.

Fuck!

“There you are,” he said and I sucked in a steadying breath. “Bloody hell woman, didn’t you hear –?”

I pinned a huge smile on my face and turned it to him.

“Heya,” I greeted and he stopped dead.

“By the gods,” he breathed.

Okay, proof the handkerchief didn’t work.

I needed to cover.

“So, uh… how was your day?” I asked fake brightly.

One second he was five feet away, the next second he was right there, I was out of the chair and in his arms.

Um. Not good. Way too close.

“Cora –”

I looked down and to the side. “Is all well in your princedom?” I tried to inject lightness in my tone and knew I failed when he spoke next.

His voice was so firm it was steely when he commanded, “Look at me.”

I did as he asked, lifting my head and moving it in a swift arc, my eyes catching his for a brief second before I tried to look down to the other side but one of his hands caught me, fingers at my chin, and forced me to face him.

Foiled!

“Bloody hell,” he muttered. “By the gods, what happened to you?”

“Nothing,” I replied instantly.

“Nothing?” he asked, his voice dripping with impatience and disbelief.

“Nope, nothing,” I repeated. “Everything’s cool. How are you? Did you have a good day?”

He stared at me. Then he stated, “Don’t lie to me, Cora.”

“I’m not –”

I stopped speaking when he shook me gently but firmly and semi-repeated, “I said, don’t lie to me.”

I looked into his gorgeous face, into his beautiful eyes, eyes that held mine the entire first time he moved inside me, eyes I could fall in love with and I lost it.

Completely.

I dissolved into tears in his arms, dipping my chin and shoving my face into his chest, my fingers fisting in his shirt by my cheeks as I wailed.

“Sweets, what on earth?” he murmured into the top of my hair and I jerked my head back so fast he had to jerk his up too.

“They hate me!” I cried.

“Who?” he asked.

“Everyone!” I shouted then shoved my face back into his chest and as quickly as I did, I pulled it out, looked through my watery eyes at his face and yelled desperately, “You have to find a witch! A wizard! There has got to be someone here who knows how to send me home. There’s always some magical type… person who inhabits enchanted animated movies that knows how to help!” I pulled his shirt out then slammed it back in and kept going. “You have to find someone to help. I have to go home. I have to.”

His body grew rock solid against mine but I was too far gone to notice and kept right on babbling.

“They hate me, God! You cannot imagine how much. The other Cora was a bitch!” I screeched the last two words at the top of my lungs. “And I like you. Your world is so beautiful. And you saved Aggie for me. And last night was so… so…” I hiccoughed through my sobs, “good. The best I’ve ever had by, like…” I couldn’t find words to describe how much so I shouted, “A lot! I don’t want to have it once then have to let it go.” I slammed his shirt into his chest and kept wailing, “I told you we shouldn’t do it! Now, forever and ever I’ll remember what we had and want it again and I’ll never have it!” My sobs turned to anger and I yelled, “See! I knew! I tried to tell you but would you listen? No! You jerk!”

“Sweets,” he whispered.

“You owe me!” I cried. “That’s our deal. I gave it up… three times… and now you have to pay. You have to find me a wizard or a gypsy or someone, anyone who knows how to send me home!”

Then I dissolved again, my knees buckling and he caught me in his arms, lifted me up and swung around. I shoved my face into his neck and held onto his shoulders with both arms, my body wracked with tears and I dimly heard the firm, angry beat of his boots hitting the ground as he stalked wherever he was stalking.

“Gods, what on… is she well?” I heard a woman ask.

“Find me Perdita,” Tor growled. “I’ll want an explanation for the state of my wife.”

“No!” I cried, lifting my head and looking at his hard, angry profile. “Don’t blame Perdita. I think she may be the only one who likes me.”

“I gave her charge of you and you’re a gods damned mess.” Tor’s voice rumbled with fury. “So, my love, I’ll bloody well be talking to Perdita.”

My hand went to his cheek and I pleaded, “Please, please, don’t, Tor. You do, you’ll do me no favors.”

“Quiet, Cora,” he commanded low.

“Please, honey!” I cried, swiped at my tears and tried to brighten my tone. “I’ll be okay. It’s just stress. It’s a wonder I haven’t already had a meltdown. I’ll be fine. It’s out of my system.”

“I said quiet,” he clipped.

“Totally out of my system, baby, I promise,” I assured him on a complete lie.

“Quiet!” he thundered and I shut my trap.

Oh boy. Tor was pissed.

Great. Now what had I done?

He strode angrily through the castle, up the gazillion winding, gleaming, marble steps that led to his rooms and into his rooms where he laid me gently down on his bed and straightened.

Looking down at me, he stated, “Rest. I’ll have someone bring you some wine.”

At that, I panicked, sat up and cried, “No! Don’t! Don’t ask anyone to do anything for me!”

Big, big mistake. I knew this when his eyes narrowed ominously.

“Or,” I went on, trying to repair the damage, “actually, wine sounds good.”

Better to see one of his people, who hated me, than endure Tor’s fury, which scared the beejeezus out of me.

“Rest,” he commanded.

“Right,” I whispered.

Then he turned on his boot and stalked off.

“Fucking great,” I muttered and collapsed back on the bed.

I sat curled into the heavy, comfy chair I dragged out onto the balcony patio and sipped at my second glass of wine poured from a delicately carved crystal decanter with a curlicued handle and a whirly stopper that a scurrying, pale-faced, frightened looking, silent woman delivered to me and I stared at the view.

Tor had been gone a long time.

I heard the door open and the angry pounding of boots on marble.

Oh jeez.

I turned to look around the chair and watched him prowl to me.

He didn’t look any less angry.

I bit my lip and took in a deep breath.

He made it to me, I opened my mouth to speak but shut it when he pulled the glass out of my hand, set it on the balustrade, plucked me out of the chair, sat in it, arranged me in his lap, leaned forward and nabbed the wine, handed it to me and then sat back, glowering at the view.

“Uh, is everything all right?” I ventured.

“It bloody well will be,” he growled to the view.

Hmm.

I decided to say no more.

Tor pulled the glass out of my hand and took a huge gulp.

Hmm, again.

Then he spoke again to the view. “You’ll not have any problems in future, Cora. You do, you tell me instantly.”

Oh dear.

I felt it prudent to agree, quickly and softly, so I did. “Okay, honey.”

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

I kind of was. I hadn’t had anything since breakfast.

“Um… yes?” I asked back cautiously and his eyes cut to me.

“You either are or you aren’t, love,” he clipped.

“I am,” I whispered.

“Do you want to eat up here or in the dining room?”

I wanted to ask which dining room since, in my lonely tour of the castle, I saw three.

“Where do you want to eat?” I asked instead.

“Up here,” he grunted. “That way, when we’re done, I don’t have to waste time walking all the way up here to get you in my bed.”

Hmm.

“Okay,” I said quietly.

“Go pull the bell,” he muttered.

“Okay,” I repeated and scrambled off his lap

Halfway across the patio, I chanced a glance back and saw him drain my wineglass.

I bit my lip and turned back.

Oh boy.

Tor was up on a hand, arm straight, body at an angle, his weight distributed on his other forearm which was in the bed, his fingers laced in mine.

And his hips were between my legs, he was inside me, driving deep as his fiery eyes held mine captive.

I was close, so freaking close, God, he was big, he could move and he felt so damned good.

“Tor,” I breathed, communicating it was coming.

He buried himself deep, my neck arched and he stopped.

“Look at me,” he commanded, his voice thick.

I forced my chin down and tried to focus on him.

“Cora, look at me,” he repeated and I blinked the haze away.

“I see you,” I whispered, my hand at his chest running through the hair down to his flat stomach. “Don’t stop, baby.”

He ground his hips into me and I whimpered.

“Who’s inside you?” he demanded to know.

“You,” I answered.

“Who’s inside you?” he repeated and I blinked.

“Honey –”

His elbow bent and my body took on more of his weight as his face became the only thing I could see.

“Who’s fucking you?” he changed his question.

I was confused. “You,” I said again.

“Who am I?”

Oh God, I needed him to move!

“Tor,” I replied breathlessly.

That earned me a violent stroke and heat surged through me.

He stopped again and kept at it. “Who am I?”

“My husband,” I gasped.

Another violent stroke and again, “Who am I?”

“My prince,” I whispered.

“Bloody right,” he growled and his hips started moving faster, harder.

He moved his weight fully to his forearm and his hand slid from my chest, between my breasts and down to my belly.

“Who does this belong to?” he asked.

“My prince,” I repeated.

His hand went up and cupped my breast firmly. “And this?” he demanded while his cock drove deep and I lifted my knees higher and pressed my thighs tight to him.

Oh God.

“My prince,” I moaned.

His thumb slid roughly across my nipple and a shaft of pleasure shot through me.

Oh God!

“And this?” he continued harshly.

“It belongs to you, my prince,” I breathed.

His fingers left my breast, he pulled my hand away from his belly and pushed both of our hands between our legs, his hand over mine cupping my sex so I could feel his thrusts between our fingers.

His mouth came to mine and he stopped thrusting and started grinding. “Who does this belong to?”

Oh God, God, God.

I closed my eyes and arched my neck again. “You, my prince.”

“Bloody look at me,” he ordered, I did and he started thrusting savagely, I felt him pounding, inside and out. “You’ll not leave,” he ground out, his voice hoarse.

My legs circled his hips but I didn’t answer.

“Cora, say it, you’ll not leave.”

Oh God!

“I’ll not leave,” I whispered.

His eyes kept mine imprisoned as he kept driving deep and I lost it, my back arched, my neck arched and my heels dug into his back as I exploded.

His mouth went to my ear as I climaxed and I felt the sharp nip of his teeth on my earlobe before he gritted, “You’re never going ‘home’.”

Then he shoved his face in my neck and groaned.

When we both came down, Tor guided our hands from between us, let mine go, he pulled out of me then kissed my neck and exited the bed.

I rolled to my side and watched as he strode around the room and extinguished candles and lamps until the only illumination came from the city lights glowing through the huge opened doors.

He joined me in bed and pulled me into his arms, settling me with my cheek on his chest, my thigh over both of his and then his fingers came up and played with the ends of my hair.

I closed my eyes tight.

Okay, shit, what was that all about?

I wasn’t sure but one thing I knew, I was screwed.

The people of his castle and the city hated me, but I could not leave, I could not complain about them or Tor would do something to make them hate me more, if he already hadn’t.

I was stuck on that score.

I wanted to take off but if I did, I might get captured by Minerva and then his world would descend into plague and famine and who wanted to be responsible for something like that?

Not me.

From what just happened, it was pretty freaking clear that Tor wasn’t going to go out and find me a wizard or sorcerer to help me get home. Further, I couldn’t ask anyone because they hated me and they wouldn’t help me. So I was stuck on that score too.

And, blast my luck, his protective behavior when he found me crying settled my black prince even deeper in my heart. I wasn’t falling sedately in love with him, I was falling fast and I was going to land soon and when I did, I’d land hard.

Yes, I was totally screwed.

I had no choice.

I had to tough it up where his people were concerned. I needed to build a shield. I would be my friendly, social self and do my best to keep my chin up. I didn’t suspect, considering how deep their hatred went, I’d win them over but I had to find a way to live with it.

And as for Tor, I didn’t know what to do.

What I did know was that there was a possibility I was going to go home one day, no warning, no chance to say good-bye.

So, I not only had to take what I could get from my fairytale prince but I also had to give him back everything I could muster. Because when I went home, the other Cora would come back and he, like me, would have nothing.

And I wanted him to have all he could have for as long as I could give it to him.

I opened my eyes and pulled in breath.

So that, I decided, was precisely what I was going to do.

“Sweets?” Tor called, his free hand coming to mine on his chest.

“Mm?” I replied but he didn’t answer, or at least not verbally.

He moved both our hands to between his legs and wrapped my fingers around his rock hard shaft.

Jeez, apparently men of this world had superhuman recuperative powers.

“I’m ready for you again,” he murmured, I felt a spasm between my legs and then he shifted me over him.

I lifted my head and looked into his face lit dimly by the city lights.

God, he was beautiful.

He moved the tip of his cock inside me then both his hands went to my hips and pushed me up to straddling him and as they did, he filled me.

Oh yes.

I bit my lip as I stared down at him and his hands took control of both of mine, leading one to my breast and the other between my legs.

“Give me what I want,” he muttered his throaty order, his hands leaving mine where he wanted them as his moved to my hips, his fingers curling in.

I swiped with a thumb and rolled with a finger at the same time moving up and down in a deep stroke.

It felt so good, my held fell back.

Oh yes. I was going to give him all I could give him for as long as I could give it to him.

“Eyes on me, my love,” he commanded and I tipped my chin down and caught his eyes.

Then I smiled.

At my smile, his face darkened and his hips bucked.

Then I rode my prince, giving him all as I could give him for as long as I could hold out.