Sex stories

Short sex stories




Beauty's Choice Ch. 02

She was warm, snuggled in the depths of the softest feather tick she'd ever felt. She sighed and stretched only to curl deeper in the silky sheets.

"Careful, milady. The healer had to suture some of your open cuts. I don't think he'd be happy if you were to pull any of them loose." The older woman stepped to the side of the bed and rested a cool palm against her forehead. "No sign of a fever. I think you should heal up just fine."

She stared at the older woman. "I'm sorry, do I know you, ma'am?" Her voice was still weak and a bit scratchy. She eagerly reached for the glass of water the woman held. But her arms shook and the elder helped her raise it to her lips, letting her swallow just a few sips.

"Not too much now, it could easily come up as stay down, milady. Her Majesty will be bringing up some broth that we've kept warm for you. I am Margaret. I was her Majesty's nanny. Now I am her maid..."

"Who just loves to tell me what to do. I swear, if I let her, she'd tuck me in every night. If she becomes insufferable, just let me know." The queen made her way from the door, a small metal pot clutched careful between two cloths.

"Your Highness, I would never presume to tell you what to do. I just give strong suggestions. Which you always find your way around." Margaret wrinkled her nose in a smile, dipping into a respectfully deep curtsey.

"Your Highness." The young girl tried to jump from the bed but stopped when the room began to spin around her. "Oh..." Her hand rose to press against her forehead.

"How about we forget the highnesses and curtseyings and you call me Ramilla? Or Milly if you prefer?" The elegantly gowned woman sat the pot on the hearth close to the fire and then put out her hand to help the girl back to the bed. "You must stay in bed."

"It is a beautiful name, ma'am." She rested her spinning head thankfully against the pile of pillows that Margaret plumped behind her back.

"You are as bad as my Margaret. I've been telling her since I was little more than a girl, newly married to my Thorn that she is more friend than servant. I hope you will become my friend also..." She smiled and took the spoon out of the bowl she quickly ladled up and offered her a little of the broth. "You know, I don't know your name."

She swallowed the broth and her forehead furrowed. One hand came up and toughed the lump on her head, feeling the ends of the sutures that held the gash closed. "I...I don't know." She lifted up her wan face, staring at Ramilla with panic in her eyes. "I don't know who I am. How can that be? How does anyone forget their own identity?" A tear slid down her cheek quickly followed by another.

"Oh no, sweetheart. Don't cry. Please. If you cry than I shall out of sympathy and I look simply dreadful with a red nose and swollen eyes." Ramilla handed the bowl to Margaret, gathering the injured girl in her arms and stroking her hair, careful of her injury. "It will come to you. I know it will. I am sure of it. Margaret, please go and fetch the healer, Dane. We'll let him come and tell you."

"But..."

"No, buts. I won't hear of any arguments. There are perks to being the Queen you know." She smiled and pushed a strand of tawny golden hair behind the young girl's ear. "You have the most beautiful hair. It seems to glow from within. It seems so alive."

There was a knock on the door and Ramilla stood to answer it. "Bryce...I thought you were Dane."

"I saw your maid in the hall and thought maybe I could have a moment." Bryce's hands were clasped in front of him and his shoulders were held rigidly. "Just a moment, mother, please."

Ramilla let him in but put her hand on his chest when he started to make his way to the bed. "Wait here, son. I will see if she feels well enough to entertain company." She saw him swallow and then nod. "I expect that she will be happy to give you a moment, especially for the man who saved her life."

She watched him twitch and pull at the hem of his tunic and then smoothed it down. Nervous? Could her confident Alpha son actually be nervous? She smiled at the thought. Perhaps their wounded dove could be just the thing for her son's restless spirit.

"What does he want?" the girl whispered.

"Well, I expect it's to see you." She nodded and tapped a finger against her lips. "He did save you from the overturned coach you were trapped in. You wouldn't have lasted much longer in that frigid water, so I would say he is concerned for your welfare."

The girl tilted her head, meeting the Queen's eyes. "I do owe him my life. Where I'm from... where I'm from, saving a life means... it means..." Her face turned pale, her beautiful golden-green eyes grew troubled. "I don't know where I'm from, I don't even know my name."

Ramilla sank back down on the side of the bed and pulled the girl into her arms. "Don't fret sweetling, we shall find your people and all will be well." She stroked the girl's hair. "Just think, you could rename yourself, something that you find beautiful. I guess I should let Bryce in, if you are well?"

She sat up and nodded. "He saved me. I need to thank him for that and all he did to get me out and here." She leaned back against the pillows and pushed her hair back out of her face.

Ramilla went to the door and then excused herself from the room as she admonished her good-looking son, "Just for a moment, Bryce."

Bryce approached the bed slowly. He smiled at her. "You look better."

"I feel better, because of you. You saved my life. Somehow thank you doesn't seem enough to express my gratitude." She reached out and took his hand, marveling at the size and gracefulness of them. "Thank you, your Majesty." She smiled up at him.

He sank down to the side of the bed. "It was completely my pleasure, milady. Please just call me Bryce." He smiled down at her, his teeth flashing white against his tawny skin. "How in the world did you end up there? Where were you servants and the horses?"

"I...I don't know. I can't remember my name. I can't remember anything." She touched the side of her head, her fingers tracing gently over her injury. "I don't know who I am. I could be a servant or a thief. I could be a murderer." Her brow wrinkled and she went to pull her hand back to her lap only to find him holding on to it.

"Milady, no servant could ever have hands this beautiful." He turned her tiny hand over and rubbed his thumb in gentle circles upon the soft satiny skin of her palm. Then he raised it and pressed a whisper soft kiss upon her fair skin.

She blushed and looked down.

"No, please don't look away." His fingers touch her small, pointed chin, lifting it so he could see her eyes. He placed her palm upon his chest, holding it against his heart. "I-I was going to wait but...I can't. Do you feel my heart pound?" He waited for her nod. "It beats for you, milady."

"I...You can't. I mean...I could be naught but a commoner. I could have done...Oh gods..." She sighed heavily and tried to evade his gaze.

"If you are a commoner, taking me as your husband would make you royalty." His fingers touched her chin again, lifting her face. His lips touched hers gently and then with more force, twisting them to part her mouth. His tongue swept in and he moaned at the taste and heat he found there.

His hands wove through her hair, holding her steady for his kiss. His lips were hot, demanding, sliding with such fire over hers.

"Gods, my beauty. If I had any doubts before, that kiss settled it. You belong with me. You belong to me. You can feel it, too. Tell me." His voice shook with the slightest of trembles, his cheeks flushed from the sensations roiling inside of him..

Hearing that, and with the taste of his kiss upon her lips, how could she deny him. "You must be crazed to desire a woman that you know nothing of but I cannot refute your words, your majesty." A tear tracked down her cheek.

He saw that tiny bit of moisture and captured it with his lips. "Please, your tears will slay me. They cut me to the quick, my beauty."

"I am sorry, majesty. I..."

"Bryce. I am not your majesty, I am your Bryce." He carefully hooked a loose strand of her golden hair behind her ear. He kissed her soft cheek and then her jaw, moaning at her taste upon his tongue. "Please, say it."

"B-Bryce."

The silky sound of her voice speaking his name with that tiny stutter sent flames of desire licking into his soul. "Beauty, you are mine. I care little of your name as long as you promise your heart to me." His kiss blazed against her lips and she was lost in the sensations, the heat of his mouth and the flick of his tongue against hers.

Her eyes fluttered open when he suddenly pulled away. "We belong together, Beauty." Glancing over his shoulder, he spoke to someone. "Mother."

"I had cook warm your broth, sweetheart. Do you think you might take more?"

She pulled her hand from his chest where she had tangled her fingers in the soft material of his tunic as he'd kissed her. "Yes, ma'am. I shall try."

Bryce rose to allow his mother to take his place. He smiled. "Beauty, I have duties that I must see to. I would come back later if that would be acceptable with you?" He lifted her hand and placed a kiss upon her palm, curling her fingers around the spot. He grinned when she smiled and nodded her assent. "Until then, my Beauty."

She watched him leave with a confident stride than turned her attention back to the queen.

"I see my son has christened you. Beauty, it is fitting indeed."

She flushed and ducked her head. "Thank you, ma'am."

"If I know my son, he has expressed his wish for you to extend your stay indefinitely. I knew when he brought you to us that he had lost his heart to you."

"No. I mean, yes, he has asked me. But he shouldn't. I...He doesn't know who I am or what I might have done. I don't even know." She pressed one hand gently against the knot on the side of her head. "I could have hurt or even killed someone. I don't even know how I ended up in that coach. When I woke I was laying in the icy water and I couldn't climb out. I split my nails..." She held up the two bandaged fingers and a soft sob shook her shoulders.

"Do you think that matters to him?" The queen reached out and took the golden girl's wrapped fingers and held them gently. "If I know my son, he has people out searching for your people. He won't stop until he finds them."

"But, ma'am, it should bother him. He needs a lady with an impeccable reputation and blood line. He needs a lady to be at his side. I could be a guttersnipe, a commoner, or even a bastard." She cringed even as she said the last word. She closed her eyes, leaning her head back against the pillow, her hand pressing against her forehead.

"The healer said you might experience head aches and left a powder. Now where did I put that..."

"Here, milady. I brewed it into a tea as the healer instructed. Sip it, milady. It should help the pounding ease." Margaret handed the warm cup to the girl, guiding it easily to her mouth. "You must drink at least half."

Beauty managed to drink the noisome brew, shuddering at the foul taste. But it warmed her and the pounding eased but moments later. Her eyes grew heavy and sleep beckoned. She yawned and curled into the pillows, not noticing as the queen tucked the blankets up, under her chin and then motioned for Margaret to precede her out the door.

* * * *

"Mother!"

Ramilla slowed her step as she heard her second son call for her. She turned and smiled for though he and Bryce looked so incredibly much alike, Blaise was completely different in disposition and temperament. It fascinated her to no end to watch the two of them together. It was definitely a case of opposites attracting. "What is it, my darling?"

Blaise fidgeted with the hem of his tunic, tugging on a loose string. "Our guest? The one that Bryce rescued, she is well?"

Blaise ran his hand through his wavy dark hair, the amber in his eyes turning a brighter gold as he awaited his mother's reply.

"She woke and we got her to take some broth and the healer's powder when the pain grew in her head." Ramilla cocked her head to the side, noticing her son's fidgeting. "Is there something that you might wish to confess, son?"

"Confess? What could I possibly have to confess, mother?" He scoffed and tugged on his tunic, smoothing down a few imaginary wrinkles.

"Perhaps you care a bit much for the poor girl?" She watched as he fidgeted more and then tugged his long fingers through his hair, rumpling it even more.

"It is not time for my match to be made. You know that Bryce as first-born and heir to the Alpha throne has his first choice of all unwed maidens in the Seven Kingdoms. I must wait to make my choice as his Beta." He looked up at his mother and then couldn't hide the despair and fear in his eyes. He paced down the hall and then back. "He has chosen her, hasn't he?"

"Oh, my son. I am so so..." Ramilla began only to be interrupted.

"No, Mother. It is the way things are done. She will be happy with him and she will be safe as Alpha Bitch. I am happy..." He couldn't finish the sentence. He gave his mother a quick kiss upon the cheek then turned and ran out of the castle proper through a door that led to the gardens. A mournful howl echoed eerily through the air and Ramilla knew it was his wolf.

Her heart broke. She knew Blaise felt as if Bryce was the special one. That because Bryce was heir that he was given everything he wanted and that his wishes would always supersede his own. But it wasn't strictly the truth.

As a mother, she felt for all of her sons. She had cried over their hurts and disillusions. She laughed and was proud of their accomplishments and prayed for their happiness and their safety. She would never admit this to anyone but Blaise held a special place inside her heart. She had known he would feel that his place was second to the Alpha.

She wished she could make Blaise see the truth. Without him, without the role he played in the hierarchy of Moonstone Kingdom, life would self-destruct around Bryce's ears. As Beta, the Alpha would depend upon him the most, would confide in him more and would value his opinions over all. If only Blaise could realize his place was not just second born and what it meant, he might become more confident.

The worst thing that could happen now would be for the two brothers to squabble over one girl who wasn't lycan. Ramilla let out a sigh. It was time to talk to her husband.

King Thorn would be sitting in the throne room with his Beta, Heath, hearing complaints. He would probably be happy if she disturbed him right now. A sly smile crossed her lips. She lifted her skirts and hurried toward the throne room.She was warm, snuggled in the depths of the softest feather tick she'd ever felt. She sighed and stretched only to curl deeper in the silky sheets.

"Careful, milady. The healer had to suture some of your open cuts. I don't think he'd be happy if you were to pull any of them loose." The older woman stepped to the side of the bed and rested a cool palm against her forehead. "No sign of a fever. I think you should heal up just fine."

She stared at the older woman. "I'm sorry, do I know you, ma'am?" Her voice was still weak and a bit scratchy. She eagerly reached for the glass of water the woman held. But her arms shook and the elder helped her raise it to her lips, letting her swallow just a few sips.

"Not too much now, it could easily come up as stay down, milady. Her Majesty will be bringing up some broth that we've kept warm for you. I am Margaret. I was her Majesty's nanny. Now I am her maid..."

"Who just loves to tell me what to do. I swear, if I let her, she'd tuck me in every night. If she becomes insufferable, just let me know." The queen made her way from the door, a small metal pot clutched careful between two cloths.

"Your Highness, I would never presume to tell you what to do. I just give strong suggestions. Which you always find your way around." Margaret wrinkled her nose in a smile, dipping into a respectfully deep curtsey.

"Your Highness." The young girl tried to jump from the bed but stopped when the room began to spin around her. "Oh..." Her hand rose to press against her forehead.

"How about we forget the highnesses and curtseyings and you call me Ramilla? Or Milly if you prefer?" The elegantly gowned woman sat the pot on the hearth close to the fire and then put out her hand to help the girl back to the bed. "You must stay in bed."

"It is a beautiful name, ma'am." She rested her spinning head thankfully against the pile of pillows that Margaret plumped behind her back.

"You are as bad as my Margaret. I've been telling her since I was little more than a girl, newly married to my Thorn that she is more friend than servant. I hope you will become my friend also..." She smiled and took the spoon out of the bowl she quickly ladled up and offered her a little of the broth. "You know, I don't know your name."

She swallowed the broth and her forehead furrowed. One hand came up and toughed the lump on her head, feeling the ends of the sutures that held the gash closed. "I...I don't know." She lifted up her wan face, staring at Ramilla with panic in her eyes. "I don't know who I am. How can that be? How does anyone forget their own identity?" A tear slid down her cheek quickly followed by another.

"Oh no, sweetheart. Don't cry. Please. If you cry than I shall out of sympathy and I look simply dreadful with a red nose and swollen eyes." Ramilla handed the bowl to Margaret, gathering the injured girl in her arms and stroking her hair, careful of her injury. "It will come to you. I know it will. I am sure of it. Margaret, please go and fetch the healer, Dane. We'll let him come and tell you."

"But..."

"No, buts. I won't hear of any arguments. There are perks to being the Queen you know." She smiled and pushed a strand of tawny golden hair behind the young girl's ear. "You have the most beautiful hair. It seems to glow from within. It seems so alive."

There was a knock on the door and Ramilla stood to answer it. "Bryce...I thought you were Dane."

"I saw your maid in the hall and thought maybe I could have a moment." Bryce's hands were clasped in front of him and his shoulders were held rigidly. "Just a moment, mother, please."

Ramilla let him in but put her hand on his chest when he started to make his way to the bed. "Wait here, son. I will see if she feels well enough to entertain company." She saw him swallow and then nod. "I expect that she will be happy to give you a moment, especially for the man who saved her life."

She watched him twitch and pull at the hem of his tunic and then smoothed it down. Nervous? Could her confident Alpha son actually be nervous? She smiled at the thought. Perhaps their wounded dove could be just the thing for her son's restless spirit.

"What does he want?" the girl whispered.

"Well, I expect it's to see you." She nodded and tapped a finger against her lips. "He did save you from the overturned coach you were trapped in. You wouldn't have lasted much longer in that frigid water, so I would say he is concerned for your welfare."

The girl tilted her head, meeting the Queen's eyes. "I do owe him my life. Where I'm from... where I'm from, saving a life means... it means..." Her face turned pale, her beautiful golden-green eyes grew troubled. "I don't know where I'm from, I don't even know my name."

Ramilla sank back down on the side of the bed and pulled the girl into her arms. "Don't fret sweetling, we shall find your people and all will be well." She stroked the girl's hair. "Just think, you could rename yourself, something that you find beautiful. I guess I should let Bryce in, if you are well?"

She sat up and nodded. "He saved me. I need to thank him for that and all he did to get me out and here." She leaned back against the pillows and pushed her hair back out of her face.

Ramilla went to the door and then excused herself from the room as she admonished her good-looking son, "Just for a moment, Bryce."

Bryce approached the bed slowly. He smiled at her. "You look better."

"I feel better, because of you. You saved my life. Somehow thank you doesn't seem enough to express my gratitude." She reached out and took his hand, marveling at the size and gracefulness of them. "Thank you, your Majesty." She smiled up at him.

He sank down to the side of the bed. "It was completely my pleasure, milady. Please just call me Bryce." He smiled down at her, his teeth flashing white against his tawny skin. "How in the world did you end up there? Where were you servants and the horses?"

"I...I don't know. I can't remember my name. I can't remember anything." She touched the side of her head, her fingers tracing gently over her injury. "I don't know who I am. I could be a servant or a thief. I could be a murderer." Her brow wrinkled and she went to pull her hand back to her lap only to find him holding on to it.

"Milady, no servant could ever have hands this beautiful." He turned her tiny hand over and rubbed his thumb in gentle circles upon the soft satiny skin of her palm. Then he raised it and pressed a whisper soft kiss upon her fair skin.

She blushed and looked down.

"No, please don't look away." His fingers touch her small, pointed chin, lifting it so he could see her eyes. He placed her palm upon his chest, holding it against his heart. "I-I was going to wait but...I can't. Do you feel my heart pound?" He waited for her nod. "It beats for you, milady."

"I...You can't. I mean...I could be naught but a commoner. I could have done...Oh gods..." She sighed heavily and tried to evade his gaze.

"If you are a commoner, taking me as your husband would make you royalty." His fingers touched her chin again, lifting her face. His lips touched hers gently and then with more force, twisting them to part her mouth. His tongue swept in and he moaned at the taste and heat he found there.

His hands wove through her hair, holding her steady for his kiss. His lips were hot, demanding, sliding with such fire over hers.

"Gods, my beauty. If I had any doubts before, that kiss settled it. You belong with me. You belong to me. You can feel it, too. Tell me." His voice shook with the slightest of trembles, his cheeks flushed from the sensations roiling inside of him..

Hearing that, and with the taste of his kiss upon her lips, how could she deny him. "You must be crazed to desire a woman that you know nothing of but I cannot refute your words, your majesty." A tear tracked down her cheek.

He saw that tiny bit of moisture and captured it with his lips. "Please, your tears will slay me. They cut me to the quick, my beauty."

"I am sorry, majesty. I..."

"Bryce. I am not your majesty, I am your Bryce." He carefully hooked a loose strand of her golden hair behind her ear. He kissed her soft cheek and then her jaw, moaning at her taste upon his tongue. "Please, say it."

"B-Bryce."

The silky sound of her voice speaking his name with that tiny stutter sent flames of desire licking into his soul. "Beauty, you are mine. I care little of your name as long as you promise your heart to me." His kiss blazed against her lips and she was lost in the sensations, the heat of his mouth and the flick of his tongue against hers.

Her eyes fluttered open when he suddenly pulled away. "We belong together, Beauty." Glancing over his shoulder, he spoke to someone. "Mother."

"I had cook warm your broth, sweetheart. Do you think you might take more?"

She pulled her hand from his chest where she had tangled her fingers in the soft material of his tunic as he'd kissed her. "Yes, ma'am. I shall try."

Bryce rose to allow his mother to take his place. He smiled. "Beauty, I have duties that I must see to. I would come back later if that would be acceptable with you?" He lifted her hand and placed a kiss upon her palm, curling her fingers around the spot. He grinned when she smiled and nodded her assent. "Until then, my Beauty."

She watched him leave with a confident stride than turned her attention back to the queen.

"I see my son has christened you. Beauty, it is fitting indeed."

She flushed and ducked her head. "Thank you, ma'am."

"If I know my son, he has expressed his wish for you to extend your stay indefinitely. I knew when he brought you to us that he had lost his heart to you."

"No. I mean, yes, he has asked me. But he shouldn't. I...He doesn't know who I am or what I might have done. I don't even know." She pressed one hand gently against the knot on the side of her head. "I could have hurt or even killed someone. I don't even know how I ended up in that coach. When I woke I was laying in the icy water and I couldn't climb out. I split my nails..." She held up the two bandaged fingers and a soft sob shook her shoulders.

"Do you think that matters to him?" The queen reached out and took the golden girl's wrapped fingers and held them gently. "If I know my son, he has people out searching for your people. He won't stop until he finds them."

"But, ma'am, it should bother him. He needs a lady with an impeccable reputation and blood line. He needs a lady to be at his side. I could be a guttersnipe, a commoner, or even a bastard." She cringed even as she said the last word. She closed her eyes, leaning her head back against the pillow, her hand pressing against her forehead.

"The healer said you might experience head aches and left a powder. Now where did I put that..."

"Here, milady. I brewed it into a tea as the healer instructed. Sip it, milady. It should help the pounding ease." Margaret handed the warm cup to the girl, guiding it easily to her mouth. "You must drink at least half."

Beauty managed to drink the noisome brew, shuddering at the foul taste. But it warmed her and the pounding eased but moments later. Her eyes grew heavy and sleep beckoned. She yawned and curled into the pillows, not noticing as the queen tucked the blankets up, under her chin and then motioned for Margaret to precede her out the door.

* * * *

"Mother!"

Ramilla slowed her step as she heard her second son call for her. She turned and smiled for though he and Bryce looked so incredibly much alike, Blaise was completely different in disposition and temperament. It fascinated her to no end to watch the two of them together. It was definitely a case of opposites attracting. "What is it, my darling?"

Blaise fidgeted with the hem of his tunic, tugging on a loose string. "Our guest? The one that Bryce rescued, she is well?"

Blaise ran his hand through his wavy dark hair, the amber in his eyes turning a brighter gold as he awaited his mother's reply.

"She woke and we got her to take some broth and the healer's powder when the pain grew in her head." Ramilla cocked her head to the side, noticing her son's fidgeting. "Is there something that you might wish to confess, son?"

"Confess? What could I possibly have to confess, mother?" He scoffed and tugged on his tunic, smoothing down a few imaginary wrinkles.

"Perhaps you care a bit much for the poor girl?" She watched as he fidgeted more and then tugged his long fingers through his hair, rumpling it even more.

"It is not time for my match to be made. You know that Bryce as first-born and heir to the Alpha throne has his first choice of all unwed maidens in the Seven Kingdoms. I must wait to make my choice as his Beta." He looked up at his mother and then couldn't hide the despair and fear in his eyes. He paced down the hall and then back. "He has chosen her, hasn't he?"

"Oh, my son. I am so so..." Ramilla began only to be interrupted.

"No, Mother. It is the way things are done. She will be happy with him and she will be safe as Alpha Bitch. I am happy..." He couldn't finish the sentence. He gave his mother a quick kiss upon the cheek then turned and ran out of the castle proper through a door that led to the gardens. A mournful howl echoed eerily through the air and Ramilla knew it was his wolf.

Her heart broke. She knew Blaise felt as if Bryce was the special one. That because Bryce was heir that he was given everything he wanted and that his wishes would always supersede his own. But it wasn't strictly the truth.

As a mother, she felt for all of her sons. She had cried over their hurts and disillusions. She laughed and was proud of their accomplishments and prayed for their happiness and their safety. She would never admit this to anyone but Blaise held a special place inside her heart. She had known he would feel that his place was second to the Alpha.

She wished she could make Blaise see the truth. Without him, without the role he played in the hierarchy of Moonstone Kingdom, life would self-destruct around Bryce's ears. As Beta, the Alpha would depend upon him the most, would confide in him more and would value his opinions over all. If only Blaise could realize his place was not just second born and what it meant, he might become more confident.

The worst thing that could happen now would be for the two brothers to squabble over one girl who wasn't lycan. Ramilla let out a sigh. It was time to talk to her husband.

King Thorn would be sitting in the throne room with his Beta, Heath, hearing complaints. He would probably be happy if she disturbed him right now. A sly smile crossed her lips. She lifted her skirts and hurried toward the throne room.

beauty's   choice  

Jul 20, 2018 in romance

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