Beauty's Choice
Chapter 1

Caution: This Fantasy Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Romantic, Paranormal,

Desc: Fantasy Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Meeting a Princess

Pain. Throbbing, dizzying, devastating pain. It pounded through her temples like hordes of demons were riding their flaming beasts through her head. She just wanted it to stop. Gods please! Her mouth was so dry and her lips were chapped, cracking and bleeding. Her heart was thudding as hard as her head. It hurt so badly she couldn't think of anything else.

It was all she could do not to lay back down in the blood-tinged, brackish water that surrounded her and let sleep take her. But she wasn't someone who would give up like that. She wouldn't just lay here and die. She couldn't. She would be missed. She had to have someone who would wonder what happened to her. A woman, her face was sweetly curved, her eyes a bright springtime blue that sparkled when she laughed. She could feel the love that was in those beautiful blue eyes as they looked at her.

Closing her eyes she saw another set of eyes, different, more serious. Those eyes were possessive, as if he owned her, body and soul. She could see the stubborn jut of his jaw and the thick lashes that she'd teased him about before ... Before ... She gritted her teeth at the pain stabbing through her head every time she tried to see his face, to clear up the mystery of who he was. It was right there, hanging just beyond her reach. Always just beyond her fingertips.

Her stomach lurched and she fought to keep it from leaping into her throat, scalding her with bitter acid. Once more, she reached out in the pitch black space around her. Her hand grasped buttery, smooth leather and a satiny material that was just as saturated with the accursed water as she was, as the clothes she wore upon her person were.

The wood was smooth, no footholds to help her to get to the dim light she could see above her. It was so achingly close, teasing her with its freedom.

She'd screamed herself hoarse, fought to climb the wood until she'd split two of her fingernails to the quick. Sitting back down on a small ledge she had found that was just above the water and just large enough for her to balance upon. She clutched her throbbing, bleeding hand against her breast. She felt so hopeless, so devastated. Even the slight heat of her blood couldn't penetrate the chill that was bone deep and stealing away her life.

Her legs were still submerged in the frigid water and so cold she couldn't really feel them anymore. Did anyone even know she was down here? Did anyone even care? She leaned back on the wood that was behind her and reached up to gently assess the wound on the side of her head. Her hands came back wet, not surprising since she was soaked in the frigid water, but this fluid was thicker and looked black when she brought it closer to her face.

Then there was that scent. That awful, metallic, sweet scent. The cloying scent of blood.

It was the blood from a gash in the side of her head. It was where all that sickening dizziness and pain was the worse. She rinsed her hand in the clear, cold water surrounding her and then pressed it against the gash and the bump that was quickly rising below her skin. She was so tired, so, so very tired, though the shivering wasn't hurting her anymore. Her eyes closed and she felt a sense of helplessness. She knew the cold water and wet clothes would sap her strength, finally killing her when she could no longer force herself awake. But she could rest her eyes for a minute. Just a minute to gather strength before trying to escape once more.

She wanted to whisper a silent good-bye to her family, her loved ones, but she couldn't think of anything but the pain. A whimper came from her throat and she brought her knees up, wrapping her arms around them and laid her face against her knees. She started to drift as the shivering began to fade from her memory. Darkness beckoned.

Bryce shook his head. "Dec is there even a serious bone anywhere in your body? I swear, the ladies all think you hung the moon and would give it to them, along with mama's jewels if they could keep your head turned long enough."

The four brothers were a handsome lot, all with dark hair and light eyes, the oldest possessed of a charm that befitted his station in life. He was dominant and took his responsibility seriously, sometimes too seriously.

"Tis true. I think he needs to write down their names upon a scroll to remember who he is to be with. Who was it last eve, baby brother?" The second oldest was almost a carbon copy of the first though slightly leaner and more wiry of muscle. He sat upon his mount, a leg cocked over the saddle horn as they mocked and joked, perched with an unconscious beauty all of his own.

Declan shrugged even as a pink flush stained his cheeks. "You both exaggerate my prowess with the fairer sex." Declan, the youngest, often found that being with his brothers was a trial. A more somber and serious fellow, he found respite in his books and classes with his tutors than being at any of the balls, fetes and soirees.

And, though he'd never tell his brothers, more of the ladies that they thought were interested in him, wished to speak of the Alpha and what he might like as a mate.

"Nice try," Blaise chuckled. "But we do know you better than that. They take even one tiny glance upon your boyish good looks and want to mother you." He glanced up at Bryce. "Do you think they even suckle him?"

Bryce laughed, a deep rich sound that was masculine and commanding. "Perhaps our next time at court we should ask."

"Uh ... No. Could you hear what the Alphas would say if that got back to them?" Declan's eyes changed from their gorgeous amber to almost black and his voice became thicker, deeper. "Please, don't do that to me."

All three of his brothers laughed. "Dec, don't you know by now when these two are trying to harass you? The more you fuss at them, the worse they're going to get." Micah, Declan's twin, gave his two older brothers a sour look. "They're just jealous that you talked Lady Selene into giving you a dance and she took your calling card when they had no such luck."

Declan sank back into his saddle and took a deep breath. He grinned the cocky, arrogant grin that his brothers thought that all the ladies loved.

"Yes, how did you manage that, brother?" Blaise cocked his dark head to the side. "I've seen half the men at court including myself be brought down by that lovely angel. I think she even turned her nose up at Bryce..." He tapped his chin as if in deep thought. "Isn't that true, Bryce? Did she cut the next Alpha off at the balls?"

But Bryce was no longer listening. He rode his gray stallion over deep muddy coach tracks that had swerved toward a wide runoff ditch. "Over here!" he called to his brothers. "Hullo the coach."

When there was no answer, he swung down from his saddle and strode to the side of the ditch, not caring about what the mud and muck were doing to his impeccably shined riding boots. "Hello? Is anyone in there?" He tossed his reins to Micah and tried once more. "Do you need help?"

Her eyes fluttered open at the sound of a man's voice. "Help, help me, please." Her voice was weak and she licked her pale lips, hoping to gain enough moisture to clear her throat. Then she tried again. "Hello ... I'm in here."

There was s rustling and then her prison jostled enough that she put out her hands to steady herself. The water around her splashed as the coach moved under a heavy weight. The top of her prison, that teasing glimpse of night sky and the freedom and light it promised, was pulled up and a face looked down at her. "Help me, please," she begged.

"Micah, Declan, I knew I heard something. Don't worry, M'lady. We'll get you out." He lowered himself down into her dark, dank prison, his legs straddling her in the cold water of the ditch "We'll get you out. Blaise, give me your cloak." He smiled gently at her. "Those are my little brothers, M'lady. My name is Bryce. We are from the First Kingdom, the Kingdom of Moonstone. We are at your service." He took the thick material that was passed down to him. "Can you stand up, Beautiful?"

She took his hand, marveling at its strength and warmth. "Thank you, my lord." Her teeth began to chatter.

"This gown is soaked. It's just going to make it harder for you to get warm. I know you don't know us, but we can be gentlemen when it is called upon. Well, maybe not so much Blaise. He's a bit of a bounder and a curmudgeon."

"I heard that, Bryce."

Her savior chuckled, a sound that sent a shiver down her spine not due to her dunking. "You were meant to, Blaise. If I wrap you in this cloak, do you think we could get you out of that gown, it's just going to make you colder and could cause the fever."

She started to nod her head but stopped as it made her feel so incredibly nauseas. She reached out for him and her eyes rolled back. He caught her with ease, taking her luscious weight upon one arm. "Um ... Blaise, she's passed out. Pass me your hunting knife."

"What do you plan to do with that?" Even as he asked, Blaise handed it down to his brother.

"She must get out of this gown. It must weigh one or two stones. She'll be warmer without it." As he spoke he carefully slipped the knife into the low cut neckline of her bodice. It was wickedly sharp and easily split the silky material, exposing even silkier looking skin.

Bryce tried not to look at her in the incredibly, naughty shift she wore next to her skin. It, too, was soaked through and clung almost daintily to the flesh of her beautiful breasts. A bright blue ribbon had been added to the translucent material, gathered just under her bodice. Her nipples, those pink, delicate, little morsels, beaded up and pressed like two luscious berries against the material.

With a deep breath, he carefully cut through that precious blue ribbon and dragged the ripped material from her body. His heart was racing and he tried to be the gentleman his parents had raised him to be but the temptation was more than he could stand.

She was incredible. Shoving the sharp blade through his belt, a soft curse passed between his lips and he ran his free hand over her, cupping one soft mound. He lifted it, feeling the weight, the beautiful texture of her skin and the little nub in its center that was so very, very hard. He longed to bring that sweet peak to his mouth, to suckle and tip and watch her writhe in pleasure beneath him.

A soft moan left her lips and made it even more torturous to release that gorgeous breast. His fingers teased the tender tip, twisting it gently. She moaned and he gritted his teeth. He allowed only that one brief caress though his cock was rising thick and throbbing hard, the shaft snugged tight against the sturdy wool of his breeches. He pressed it against the softness of her belly and was tempted to grind his hips against her lush curves. He lifted his head, staring down into her face and a sudden feeling slashed at him.

She might look like a cold, wet ragamuffin but she was his ragamuffin. It was there in her scent and in her face, the face that had haunted his dreams. She was his.

He took Blaise's long cloak and draped it over her, tucking it firmly around her. He lifted her easily into his arms, marveling at how small she felt and how she seemed to fit perfectly against him. Who was he trying to fool, she was perfect. He looked down at her pale face and felt guilt ride him hard. She was blue with cold, pale and injured and all he could do was gape at her sweet breasts like some crazed maniac instead of the man she needed him to be. "This is going to hurt, little one. But it's the only way out."

He easily hitched her over his shoulder and then started the climb from the coach. He swatted his brother's hands away, refusing any assistance from them. He knew they only meant to help but they couldn't touch her. "Mine, back off," he growled.

He stepped out of the coach and then made the jump from the side of the coach to the side of the ditch it had gone into. He carried her to his horse, a huge gray brute that allowed no one but him on his back and then only when he wanted to.

"Sterling," he growled as the horse rolled his eyes and stamped his feet. "You behave. This lady needs our help."

The horse sniffed at her wet hair, lipped at it and then tossed his head, standing completely still as Bryce climbed upon his back with the lady still cradled in his arms. "Check out the coach, see if you can find any identifying marks. We should notify her kin that she is safe and sound."

"It's pretty dark down there,"Declan exclaimed, staring down into the coach. "How do you expect us to see anything down there?"

Bryce sighed. "You see better in the dark than humans so just do what I ask. I will take her back to the castle and have the healer come look at her head. She took a nasty tumble and has a huge knot. I'm off," he called back over his shoulder.

Blaise grumbled. "You sure the fuck are."

"I heard that. Run ahead and tell them we bring home my lady and that she is injured." Bryce glanced down and stroked one finger over the soft flesh of her cheek. "You are that," he whispered. "You're my lady. You are mine and I won't let anything hurt you again."

He didn't even look up when heavy paw prints sounded, running past Sterling. The horse wasn't too happy at the proximity to the huge beast and lifted its hooves. With a sharp command and the press of his knees in his side, Sterling settled, only tossing his head and snorting his displeasure.

"Do it and I will have you brought in for the servants' meals."

Sterling turned his head and gave his master a hostile look that promised retribution. He snorted and then with one more toss of his silky mane, headed out. He was eager now for his warm, dry stable and the measure of oats he knew awaited him there.

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Story tagged with:
Ma/Fa / Consensual / Romantic / Paranormal /