"Beware the virgin. Chastity brings death." Reiter has been living in the shadow of that prophecy for ten debauched years. He has built a herd of the fiercest warriors and the most sexually experienced women in the land. He has everything a prince could possibly want: unlimited sex, wealth, and too much power. Why then is he fascinated with the one woman who could hurt him the most?
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Copyright (c)2010 Cynthia Sax
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Lizbeth's mount galloped along the surf, kicking up sand and saltwater. Waves rolled in from the darkness to crash silently around them. The tangy coast air teased her nostrils. Droplets hung on her bare legs. She clutched the flowing black mane, her eyes large with wonder. She had never been to the sea. This experience was beyond the limits of her imagination.
Moonlight reflected off an ebony horn, protruding straight and proud from his forelock. Night after night, he took her on these rides. They were not alone on their nocturnal adventures. She looked behind them. His herd followed, unicorns of every color paired with women as varied as they were. All the women were naked. Lizbeth was also. She no longer felt shame over her lack of clothing. That had passed months ago. She felt only freedom and a building desire.
She crouched low over his neck, his bulk reassuringly solid, his coat as soft as silk between her naked thighs. His shoulders rubbed against her pussy as he moved, his muscles rippling in a relentless caress. The building up of passion was tantalizingly slow. Each surge forward brushed her clit, stimulating but not satisfying.
She closed her eyes, savoring the feel of him against her body. His mane blew across her face. Her nipples tightened in the cool night air. Her pussy was stroked again and again, drawing sweet cream. She throbbed. She ached. She needed more. She was so close.
Her heart jumped in her chest as her unicorn rolled. She was falling, falling, and then she was caught in strong human arms. White teeth flashed in a darkly handsome face. It was her prince. She reached out and touched his rough cheek. He turned his head and bit her palm. She sucked in her breath at the slight pain. He kissed her hard on the mouth, parting her lips, his tongue exploring every inch of her.
He lowered his full weight upon her, her curves flattened against solid muscle. She sank, not into sand, but into a substance as soft as the softest mattress. His chest heaved over top of her, his muscles covered with a layer of moisture. She breathed in the scent of horse and man. He kissed her once more before turning her onto her stomach, drawing her up so her naked ass was in the air.
He widened her stance until her dripping pussy was exposed. Lizbeth looked up, her face hot with both humiliation and excitement. They were not alone. They were never alone...