Beauty's Release - By A. N. Roquelaure & Anne Rice Page 0,96

should send an official letter to her father—”

“No. Saddle my horse,” I said, rising from the table. I went to the royal bedchamber to dress myself in my finest clothes and to get a few other little things as well.

I was just about to rush out when I stopped. I felt a sudden invisible blow to my chest. And just as if the wind had really been knocked out of me, I sank down in the chair at my desk.

Beauty, my darling Beauty. I saw her in the cabin of the ship with her arms out, beseeching me. And I felt a surge of longing that left me naked as I had never been. Other mad thoughts came back to me, of mastering Lexius alone in his chamber in the Sultan’s palace, of having Jerard in my full possession, of the tenderness that came out of me in those precious moments when I looked at the reddened flesh beneath my open hand, the dangerous awakening of love for the ones I punished mercilessly, for those who were mine.

Beauty!

It took a surprising amount of courage to rise from the chair. And yet I was so eager! I patted my pocket where I had put the trinkets I was taking to her. And then I caught a glimpse of myself in the distant mirror—His Majesty in purple velvet and black boots, his ermine-trimmed cloak flaring behind him—and I winked at my reflection.

“Laurent, you devil,” I said with wicked smile.

We reached the castle unannounced, just as I had hoped, and Beauty’s father was jubilant as he brought us into the Great Hall. There had not been many suitors of late. And he was eager for an alliance with our Kingdom.

“But, Your Majesty, I must warn you,” he said politely. “My daughter is proud and moody and will receive no one. She sits at her windows and dreams the whole day long.”

“Your Majesty, humor me if you will,” I answered. “You know my intentions are honorable. Merely point me to the door of her parlor and leave the rest to me.”

She was sitting at the window with her back to the room, and she was singing softly to herself, and her hair, gathering the sunlight to it, looked like spun gold.

My sweet darling. The dress she wore was rose-colored velvet trimmed in carefully embroidered leaves of silver. And how finely it fitted her magnificent little shoulders and arms. Arms as juicy as the rest of her, I thought. So sweet to squeeze, those little arms. And let me see the breasts please, immediately ... and those eyes, that spirit.

Again, the invisible and completely imaginary blow to my chest.

I crept up behind her and, just as she gave a start, I clamped my gloved hands over her eyes.

“Who dares to do this!” she whispered. It had a frightened, imploring sound.

“Quiet, Princess,” I said. “Your Lord and Master is here, the suitor you will not dare to refuse!”

“Laurent!” she gasped. I let her go, and she rose and turned and threw herself into my arms. I kissed her a thousand times, all but bruising her lips. She was as gorgeous and pliant as she had been in the hold of the ship, as succulent and feverish and wild.

“Laurent, you haven’t really come with an offer of marriage, have you?”

“Offer, Princess, offer?” I said. “I come with a command.” I forced her lips wide with my tongue, my hands squeezing her breasts hard through the velvet. “You will marry me, Princess. You will be my Queen and my slave.”

“0, Laurent, I never dared dream of this moment!” she said. Her face was beautifully flushed, her eyes gleaming. I could feel her heat through the skirts against my leg. And the surge of love came again, overwhelming and mingled with a maddening sense of possession and power. It made me hold her very tight.

“Go tell your father you will be my bride, that we will leave now for my Kingdom, and then come back to me!”

At once, she went to obey, and when she came back she closed the door after her and stared at me uncertainly, shrinking back against the wood.

“Bolt the door,” I said. “We will ride out in a matter of moments, and I will save the having of you for my royal bed, but I want to prepare you for the journey properly. Do as I say.”

She slid the bolt into place. She was a picture of loveliness as she approached. I reached into