Poison (14 page)

‘What was his father going to say?’

I
t was not quite as he’d expected. In fact, it was not at all as he’d expected. The prince felt somewhat dazed and confused by his new wife’s behaviour. His head was in a whirl, although that could have been the beer. There had been a lot of beer, and as he watched his wife dancing enthusiastically with Dreamy in the middle of the tavern, he realised that not only could she outride him, she could outdrink him too.

It was hot and humid in the bar and although it had been early afternoon when they’d arrived, it was now dark outside. The day had lived up to its promise and given them the last of the summer, but it meant that men who’d spent hours sweating in the baking heat were now crammed into the small space. In the corner a fiddler was playing furiously and several couples joined the dwarf and the princess in a reel, whirling each other this way and that in a clumsy over enthusiastic frenzy. The prince could feel his hair curling with the moisture and he took another sip of his beer. His time with the dwarves had accustomed him to the bitter taste but he longed for the fine wines of home. Elegant dinners. Polite dances.

The party had started when Snow White had drained her third beer in a drinking competition with two merchants and then demanded they both dance with her as her prize. They were, of course, delighted, and he had no recourse but to give them his nod. After that, the whole inn became infected with her energy and soon word had spread through out the town that a celebration was in progress and more revellers poured in. That had been several hours ago, and now night had fallen outside but the dancers showed no hint of slowing down. He wished they would. He hated the way his shirt clung to his skin and, more than that, he hated the way his new bride’s shirt clung to hers so every man in the room could see the lines of her body. What was she wearing a man’s shirt for anyway?

‘We should leave soon.’

The prince looked down to see Grouchy standing beside him.

‘And you two should be getting to your bridal bed.’

‘My bride doesn’t seem too keen,’ the prince said. ‘She’s more interested in dancing and drinking.’

‘Well, she’s always loved both of those, that’s true. But she’s also been through a terrible time. She seems a little wilder than normal, I can’t deny it, but what can you really expect? And this is her wedding day. Wild and happy have always gone hand in hand with Snow White.’ He slapped the prince’s arm lightly. ‘Don’t you worry, she can do serene and lady like when she has to. It just doesn’t come naturally to her.’

‘She’s… she’s not how Dreamy described her. When she was in the box. When we’d talk about her.’

‘Ha!’ Grouchy snorted. ‘Why do you think we call him Dreamy? He lives in storybooks that one. Perhaps thinking of her as she really is was too painful.’ The dwarf paused.

‘But she is the kindest, most beautiful person I have ever met. Look at the joy she instils in strangers. It’s a rare gift, she has, the ability to make people smile. She’ll make you very happy.’

The prince watched his beautiful dancing wife as the crowd applauded her. ‘Yes, she will,’ he said. ‘Yes, she will.’

* * *

It was late by the time they said farewell to the dwarves and headed up to their bedroom. All Snow White’s good humour had dampened into tears as she squeezed each of the two goodbye, and she had insisted on watching until they had long disappeared into the night. He’d taken her hand and led her up to the bedroom where he’d just held her for a while as she’d cried, and he found her tears were something of a relief. She was helpless like this, her face pressed into his chest. He felt like a prince again. The man who’d saved her from imprisonment in the box. She was his perfect princess. Her breath was hot on his neck and her full breasts were pressed into his chest. His heart beat faster and he swallowed hard as desire crept up on him, warmth flooding his body. He’d imagined this moment so many times before, and now it was finally here.

He’d had his share of serving girls and even several of the ladies of the court at home, but never had he longed for a woman as he had Snow White. He’d studied the curves of her body as she’d laid in her glass coffin and he’d dreamed of touching her and feeling her respond beneath him. His breath became more uneven and hers steadied as he stiffened against her. Finally she looked up at him.

‘Don’t worry,’ he said. ‘I won’t hurt you.’

‘I’ll go and…’ she hesitated, ‘and get myself ready. There’s a washroom in the corridor.’

He put a finger over her lips, not wanting to sully the moment with talk of hygiene and human sweat. That was for base lust and servants, not for a prince and his princess. He kissed her, and despite the beer and roasted meat she’d devoured so enthusiastically throughout the evening, she still tasted sweet, and her mouth was warm, wet and inviting.

She picked up the new nightdress he’d bought her and when she left the room he quickly stripped and washed with the water in the jug and basin on the small table. It was icy cold and made him shiver but even an entire freezing ocean wouldn’t be able to douse his desire. He throbbed with the thought of possessing her, his qualms about her wildness for gotten as he thought of her ripe body. There were no princesses in any of the kingdoms so beautiful. A dark memory came to him and he shook it away before it could cling to his skin and make him wilt. That adventure was done and, foul as it had been, it had led him to this happy conclusion. He was married. He would unite the kingdoms. His father would have steel in the land and keep his enemies at bay, and he and Snow White would live happily ever after and produce fit and healthy heirs. Not too soon, he hoped. He’d seen how quickly women’s bodies changed after childbirth and he wanted to enjoy his wife’s for as long as possible before they settled into domesticity and he went back to relieving himself with a mistress. He wasn’t kidding himself that there wouldn’t be other women – some of his needs were more base than others and he couldn’t imagine treating Snow White that way – but she was beautiful and he wanted to make love to her for years to come.

Snow White. Purity. Perfection. He didn’t even know her real name, and neither did he want to. He blew out the candles around the room, leaving only the red glow of the crackling fire that was slowly dying in the grate. He slid beneath the sheets and waited, resting on one arm, his heart thumping in anticipation.

After what seemed like an age, she finally returned. The soft, sheer fabric caught around her legs as she moved towards the bed, hinting at what was hidden beneath. Was she nervous he wondered? Her eyes were dark coals in the dim light, and they gave nothing away. Her hair hung loose and thick around her shoulders.

‘Come to bed,’ he said. His voice choked slightly. However strange he’d found some of her behaviour, he was in no doubt that he wanted her. He pulled the sheets back, but she didn’t move. ‘Don’t be nervous.’

‘I’m not,’ she said, and her hands went to the neck of the fabric and she undid the delicate ties there. The nightdress slid from her, floating to the floor like gossamer. She swayed slightly; a flower caught in a breeze, and he realised she was still a bit drunk. Had she needed to drink because she was nervous? Maybe that was it? She stepped forward out of the shadow and into the glow of the fire. He’d expected her to get into the bed still dressed – he’d half expected her clothing to stay tangled on her throughout, especially the first time. But instead she stood before him gloriously naked. He couldn’t stop staring. Her skin was smooth and her full breasts sat high, generous dark pink nipples erect in the evening air. Generous. Despite her slim frame, it was the word that best fit her. Generous. Luxurious. Decadent. Her head fell forward slightly, her hair tumbling across her face, and she held her arms out wide and spun slowly round.

‘How do you like your princess?’ She looked over her shoulder at him, her full lips slightly parted, her eyes challenging him from behind her hair.

‘I like her very much,’ he said. Her arse was round and firm. His balls ached and he throbbed with wanting to feel her from the inside; to ride her as she’d ridden that stallion. To
tame
her. ‘Now come to bed.’

‘Say please,’ she purred.

This wasn’t how he’d expected it to be at all. Where was his nervous bride? Why did he suddenly feel as if he were the one being seduced? He was the prince, the warrior; he’d faced things no man should ever see, but he suddenly felt weak. His mouth dried as lust overwhelmed him. ‘Please.’ The word was barely more than a whisper.

She smiled, the cat with the cream and came onto the bed on all fours, crawling towards him. He reached for her and pulled her close, one hand in her hair, his mouth seeking hers. Her tongue danced with his, and the air was filled with their hot breathing. His hand reached for her breast, feeling the warm weight of it and rolling her nipple hard between his fingers. She moaned slightly and bit down on his lip. He gasped, and in that moment she pulled away, leaving only the night air caressing his skin.

‘What are you…?’ The question faded as her tongue ran down his chest and into the coarse hairs at the base of his belly. Her soft, dark mane trailed behind her mouth like feathers over his skin. He couldn’t stand it. He was going to explode.

Her tongue flicked over the tip of his erection and he gasped again, reaching for her hair to pull her mouth over him, but she moved on, her mouth exploring lower, running through the crevices between his thighs. What was she doing? How? Sensation flooded through his body sending electric tingles to each of his extremities and then, just as he thought his pleasure couldn’t get more tantalising, she took him in her mouth.

All thought left him as he thrust deep into her hot throat, her tongue running up and down the length of him as her wet mouth embraced him. He hardened, his balls contracting. It had been too long. He wasn’t going to last.

She broke free and straddled him, on her knees before him, a vision of earthy, animal beauty. She was no perfect princess, he knew that now. He didn’t quite know what she was, this creature before him. He didn’t understand her at all. What kind of royal family was this, where the king’s treasure, his only daughter, could learn such tricks that never came until the marriage bed, and even then were more to the taste of wenches than ladies?

He grabbed her hips, wanting to pull her down on him.

‘No,’ she said, her voice all husky breath; a wolf in the forest. She pushed him back on the bed. ‘Your turn first.’

Her tongue dipped into his mouth briefly, she flashed him a wild smile, and then she was over him, her legs either side of his head. She moaned as she pushed herself against his tongue and he was over whelmed by the heady, musky taste of her. He looked up as she grew wetter and hotter in his mouth. One hand gripped the headboard, and the other teased one nipple of her perfect breasts. Her head was thrown back as she rode him, lost in her own imaginings. She was a stranger. Someone he didn’t know. He pushed his tongue further inside her and felt her squirm, the firm muscles in her thighs tightening around him. She was panting, loud and raw, moving closer to a climax.

She
was riding
him
. The thought hit him, and his passion and anger and confusion roared into one movement. He pulled her down and rolled on top of her. Her eyes, still hazy with lust, widened with surprise. He pinned her down on the bed, his arms blocking hers, and pushed hard into her, waiting for the moment of give. None came, just tight heat and wetness and an upward thrust from beneath him. He buried his head in her hair and fucked her hard, until finally he exploded inside her, crying out with the release.

They lay side by side in the growing dark as their sweat cooled on their skin. The prince didn’t pull her close to him and neither did she move. There was only the sound of their slowing breathing and the flutter of wings on the windowsill outside.

‘Must be an owl,’ Snow White said, eventually. Her voice was soft and small. Guilty. He rolled onto his side, away from her, and stared into the gloom. His jaw tightened. What was it with women and deception? Why could they never be as they appeared?

‘Look, I…’ The bed creaked as she turned to face his back.

‘It wasn’t your first time.’ It wasn’t a question. He knew it as fact. It was obvious from everything she’d done. He’d been deceived.

‘It’s not like… there was only… it wasn’t like you think.’

He didn’t move. He didn’t speak and the silence became interminable. He squeezed his eyes shut and wished sleep would come.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said, eventually, and rolled the other way, pulling her knees up under her chin. The air between them was cold; a few inches and yet vast as an ocean. How had it come to this so quickly? And why had that stupid dwarf not just told him the truth about her? Would he have loved her anyway if she hadn’t been such a shock?

What was his father going to say?

* * *

By morning, he had made up his mind.

After a fitful hour or so’s sleep he woke to find her lying on her side watching him, her dark hair spread out on the pillow behind her. As ever, for a moment, he was lost in her beauty.