Fantastical
Page 97
* * *
“My prince,” I gasped.
“Eyes,” Tor growled and I tipped my head down to look at him, our gazes locked then my body fell forward, my hand landing in the bed by his shoulder as I came.
I was still coming when he flipped me to my back and continued to drive into me, his lips so close to mine, their touch was a whisper and I felt his groan against them when he cl**axed.
I rounded his body with all my limbs and the fingers of one hand slid into his hair. His face went into my neck and I felt him kiss me there.
I loved his soft bed. I loved his lush sheets. I loved the room filled with candlelight. I loved the gentle breeze drifting in through the doors opened to an emerald sea. I loved the weight of him on me. I loved the feel of him inside me. I loved his scent in my nostrils. I loved the thickness of his hair.
I loved everything that had anything to do with my fairytale prince.
Therefore, I turned my head and whispered in his ear, “I love you, honey.”
He lifted his head and looked down at me through the flickering candlelight, his eyes tender, his face soft.
“And I you, my sweet,” he replied quietly.
I bent my neck until my forehead was against his and I smiled.
Then I dropped my head to the bed and noted, “We had a lovely day.”
“Indeed,” he agreed.
“It’s just you and me now,” I told him.
“For a time,” he replied, his body shifting, his hand sliding so it was resting on my belly that now had the barest hint of a hard, beloved bump, “then it will be you and me and our son.”
“Or daughter.”
Without hesitation and without indication of a shred of preference, he repeated, “Or daughter.”
I grinned at him. “It’s good being a princess.”
His hand left my belly and came to my face, his thumb sweeping my cheekbone when he remarked, “This I find surprising.”
I tilted my head to the side on the pillow, “You do?”
“Yes, for my princess doesn’t act like a princess.”
I let out a small giggle then informed him, “I’m the new and improved kind of princess.”
“Right,” he muttered, his mouth twitching.
God, he looked hot when his mouth twitched like that. Then again, he always looked hot.
I wondered if I’d ever think differently and decided I would not.
Not ever.
Not ever.
I sighed happily and when I did, I realized I was exhausted.
So I asked, “Are you going to let your princess sleep? I had a long day, danced all night and this kid is beginning to take it all out of me. Yesterday, I fell asleep right in the middle of reading to Clarabelle. Aggie had to peck my hand to wake me up.”
“No, I’ll not be letting my princess sleep,” he answered and I blinked at him.
“You’ll not?”
“No, love, you’re a princess. You can sleep all day.” His head dipped, his face disappearing in my neck. “Your prince gets your nights.”
“Tor –”
He nipped my earlobe and commanded, “Quiet.”
“Tor!” I snapped.
His lips moved to mine, he kissed me hard, deep and sweet and I was quiet.
Oh well, whatever. He was right, I was a princess. I could sleep all day.
So I rolled him to his back and then I kissed him.
My prince’s strong arms got tight around me and he kissed me right back.
Epilogue
Commotion
Nine months later…
I heard the commotion outside, my head came up from the book I was reading and I saw Clarabelle holding my sleeping, dark-headed three month old son, Hayden Noctorno Hawthorne of the House of Hawthorne, heir to the Kingdom of Hawkvale and the city-state of Bellebryn.
I totally dug my son’s title as any proud mother of a future king was wont to do.
I saw Clarabelle’s head tipped to the side and her sightless eyes were aimed at the window facing the sea. My eyes went there too but I could see nothing but emerald green waters and large galleons floating.
The commotion was coming from the street which was on the opposite side of the house, a location we could not see.
Aggie hopped excitedly on my knee and I looked down at him.
“Chirpity, chirp, chirp,” he said which meant, “Something’s happening, Cora.”
“I know, Aggie,” I whispered then I looked at Clarabelle who instinctively had pulled my son protectively closer to her chest and her head had turned to me. “Is something happening today, Clarabelle?” I asked.
“You are princess of our city, my dear,” she reminded me with a kind smile. “Do you know of something happening?”
I shook my head and since she couldn’t see me doing it, I said, “No. I –”
I stopped speaking abruptly when I heard the door downstairs fly open, crash back on its hinges and then loud, heavy footsteps intermingled with light, clumsy ones were running up the stairs.
Standing as I gave Aggie my finger and he jumped on it, I turned alertly to the door while positioning myself between it, Clarabelle and my son all the while adrenalin flooded my frame.
Since my return, we’d had good times… no great times, months of them. Sunny days, family, friends, the safe delivery of the next heir to the throne which heralded parties and revelry all through Bellebryn and Hawkvale (of which I didn’t partake, seeing as I’d just had a kid and was exhausted) but it was all good stuff.
The only pall was that I didn’t get to share it with Mom, Dad and Phoebe but the rest was so good, I could live with even that.
Still, whatever that commotion was that led to someone racing up the stairs didn’t bode good things and I hoped I didn’t have to assume warrior princess mode considering I had no weapon, limited experience, some time had elapsed since I’d wielded daggers and therefore I was a little rusty.
On this thought, Blanche (fortunately not a threat) suddenly filled the door, her much bigger now toddler at her hip (in fact, the kid should be on his feet, he could walk, just not steadily which was why I figured she was hauling him around, due to her haste), her five year old’s hand clutched in hers. Such was her dash, he was swinging in her grip, unable to stop himself as his mother came to a dead halt.
“The sergeant at arms is heading this way, my princess. You’re needed at the castle,” she announced, my heart clenched because I was never “needed at the castle”. My son needed me, my husband needed me and Perdita, every once in awhile, needed me. I had a good life, a beautiful life. My time was my own. I was a princess who did my princess gig the way I saw fit (which was the way Tor had finally quit bitching about and just let me be and that was to say, friendly and open and often out amongst “my people”).
“My prince,” I gasped.
“Eyes,” Tor growled and I tipped my head down to look at him, our gazes locked then my body fell forward, my hand landing in the bed by his shoulder as I came.
I was still coming when he flipped me to my back and continued to drive into me, his lips so close to mine, their touch was a whisper and I felt his groan against them when he cl**axed.
I rounded his body with all my limbs and the fingers of one hand slid into his hair. His face went into my neck and I felt him kiss me there.
I loved his soft bed. I loved his lush sheets. I loved the room filled with candlelight. I loved the gentle breeze drifting in through the doors opened to an emerald sea. I loved the weight of him on me. I loved the feel of him inside me. I loved his scent in my nostrils. I loved the thickness of his hair.
I loved everything that had anything to do with my fairytale prince.
Therefore, I turned my head and whispered in his ear, “I love you, honey.”
He lifted his head and looked down at me through the flickering candlelight, his eyes tender, his face soft.
“And I you, my sweet,” he replied quietly.
I bent my neck until my forehead was against his and I smiled.
Then I dropped my head to the bed and noted, “We had a lovely day.”
“Indeed,” he agreed.
“It’s just you and me now,” I told him.
“For a time,” he replied, his body shifting, his hand sliding so it was resting on my belly that now had the barest hint of a hard, beloved bump, “then it will be you and me and our son.”
“Or daughter.”
Without hesitation and without indication of a shred of preference, he repeated, “Or daughter.”
I grinned at him. “It’s good being a princess.”
His hand left my belly and came to my face, his thumb sweeping my cheekbone when he remarked, “This I find surprising.”
I tilted my head to the side on the pillow, “You do?”
“Yes, for my princess doesn’t act like a princess.”
I let out a small giggle then informed him, “I’m the new and improved kind of princess.”
“Right,” he muttered, his mouth twitching.
God, he looked hot when his mouth twitched like that. Then again, he always looked hot.
I wondered if I’d ever think differently and decided I would not.
Not ever.
Not ever.
I sighed happily and when I did, I realized I was exhausted.
So I asked, “Are you going to let your princess sleep? I had a long day, danced all night and this kid is beginning to take it all out of me. Yesterday, I fell asleep right in the middle of reading to Clarabelle. Aggie had to peck my hand to wake me up.”
“No, I’ll not be letting my princess sleep,” he answered and I blinked at him.
“You’ll not?”
“No, love, you’re a princess. You can sleep all day.” His head dipped, his face disappearing in my neck. “Your prince gets your nights.”
“Tor –”
He nipped my earlobe and commanded, “Quiet.”
“Tor!” I snapped.
His lips moved to mine, he kissed me hard, deep and sweet and I was quiet.
Oh well, whatever. He was right, I was a princess. I could sleep all day.
So I rolled him to his back and then I kissed him.
My prince’s strong arms got tight around me and he kissed me right back.
Epilogue
Commotion
Nine months later…
I heard the commotion outside, my head came up from the book I was reading and I saw Clarabelle holding my sleeping, dark-headed three month old son, Hayden Noctorno Hawthorne of the House of Hawthorne, heir to the Kingdom of Hawkvale and the city-state of Bellebryn.
I totally dug my son’s title as any proud mother of a future king was wont to do.
I saw Clarabelle’s head tipped to the side and her sightless eyes were aimed at the window facing the sea. My eyes went there too but I could see nothing but emerald green waters and large galleons floating.
The commotion was coming from the street which was on the opposite side of the house, a location we could not see.
Aggie hopped excitedly on my knee and I looked down at him.
“Chirpity, chirp, chirp,” he said which meant, “Something’s happening, Cora.”
“I know, Aggie,” I whispered then I looked at Clarabelle who instinctively had pulled my son protectively closer to her chest and her head had turned to me. “Is something happening today, Clarabelle?” I asked.
“You are princess of our city, my dear,” she reminded me with a kind smile. “Do you know of something happening?”
I shook my head and since she couldn’t see me doing it, I said, “No. I –”
I stopped speaking abruptly when I heard the door downstairs fly open, crash back on its hinges and then loud, heavy footsteps intermingled with light, clumsy ones were running up the stairs.
Standing as I gave Aggie my finger and he jumped on it, I turned alertly to the door while positioning myself between it, Clarabelle and my son all the while adrenalin flooded my frame.
Since my return, we’d had good times… no great times, months of them. Sunny days, family, friends, the safe delivery of the next heir to the throne which heralded parties and revelry all through Bellebryn and Hawkvale (of which I didn’t partake, seeing as I’d just had a kid and was exhausted) but it was all good stuff.
The only pall was that I didn’t get to share it with Mom, Dad and Phoebe but the rest was so good, I could live with even that.
Still, whatever that commotion was that led to someone racing up the stairs didn’t bode good things and I hoped I didn’t have to assume warrior princess mode considering I had no weapon, limited experience, some time had elapsed since I’d wielded daggers and therefore I was a little rusty.
On this thought, Blanche (fortunately not a threat) suddenly filled the door, her much bigger now toddler at her hip (in fact, the kid should be on his feet, he could walk, just not steadily which was why I figured she was hauling him around, due to her haste), her five year old’s hand clutched in hers. Such was her dash, he was swinging in her grip, unable to stop himself as his mother came to a dead halt.
“The sergeant at arms is heading this way, my princess. You’re needed at the castle,” she announced, my heart clenched because I was never “needed at the castle”. My son needed me, my husband needed me and Perdita, every once in awhile, needed me. I had a good life, a beautiful life. My time was my own. I was a princess who did my princess gig the way I saw fit (which was the way Tor had finally quit bitching about and just let me be and that was to say, friendly and open and often out amongst “my people”).
