Unnatural Instinct: Wish
12

You’re standing on the balcony, gripping the railing as you gaze into the mountains. Down below, the marshes are dark. A cool breeze brushes through your hair. You shiver. It’s chilly and you’re revealing little white dress is doing nothing to keep you warm.

‘Welcome back.’

You turn. He’s watching you from the doorway. You try to respond but you seem unable to speak.

His sculpted face is beautiful against the light coming from the room behind. You grip the railing more tightly as he joins you. He’s divested himself of his high-collared jacket and is wearing a deep green shirt with a plunging neckline, revealing his hard abdomen. It’s tucked into the usual tight pants. On anyone else it would look ridiculous.

But nothing looks ridiculous on the Dark Prince.

You turn back towards the view. The warmth of his body, so close, radiates against your side. You lick your suddenly dry lips, then suck in a breath as he rests his hand upon yours. It’s so hot. So big. So powerful. His long fingers curl around yours. Then he lifts away your hand. You avert your eyes, unable to look at him.

You know what he wants—and you’re so nervous. What if you’re nothing like he hopes? What if he decides that you’re just not worth it?

‘Look at me,’ he says.

Slowly, you raise your eyes. He’s smiling and it makes you relax a little. Just a little. He brushes your cheek with the backs of his fingers before passing them over your lips. Then he reaches behind your neck, tilting your head up towards his mouth as he leans in to kiss you.

It’s the softest kiss you’ve ever experienced. There’s no force. No compulsion. You relax against him as you move your lips with his. He doesn’t use his tongue and when he’s done, he kisses you on the forehead, as though reminding you that you’re safe. That there’s no rush.

The words seem to come out of their own accord, ‘I’m ready.’

His glittering eyes meet yours. Taking your hand, he guides you back into his room. The black four-poster is waiting. He pulls the drapes away, and you see that the sheets have already been pulled down. It’s as though he knew.

It should make you feel awkward, even a little angry, that he should think you so easy, but all you know are his magnetic eyes and the feel of his hand around yours. You stand by the bed, not sure what to do next. Your heart is beating madly as you stare at the pillows.

Gently, he grips your shoulders and before you know it he’s brushing your sleeves away. The dress falls to your waist. Instinctively, you wrap your arms around your breasts. He’s watching you, waiting, his eyes so intense they seem to burn into yours.

You drop your arms. With shaking hands, you reach up for his chest. You tug at his shirt and he helps you pull it off. He looks just as he feels. He’s not bulging with muscle; he’s very hard and lean. You can see the strength in the tightness off his abdomen and the way he holds his arms. His posture. His confidence. It’s a little frightening. He doesn’t seem real. He isn’t real, you remind yourself. He can’t be real.

Resting your hands on his hips, you raise your face to his. Again, his lips are soft. His tongue is even softer still. Not greedy. Not harsh. Nothing like your past boyfriends. You slide your hands up his sides, then wrap your arms around him. You’re close enough that your nipples brush against his chest.

He rests his hands upon your waist and slowly slides away your dress completely. You feel it fall around your feet. He takes a moment to admire you. Again, you raise your hands in front of your body, shielding your nudity. This isn’t right. He should have someone more beautiful. Someone tall and slim with pouting lips and a confidence that you can only envy.

Not someone like you.

‘I’m not perfect.’ You bite down on your lip.

‘Perfect’s boring.’

Taking your wrists, he pulls your arms away. You watch him closely, searching for any sign of disappointment or reluctance or regret. But there’s nothing.

Your eyes fall to the bulge in his pants. It seems to be getting bigger by the moment. His laughter booms around the room. Your eyes dart back to his as your cheeks flush. You didn’t realise you were staring.

‘Go on,’ he says.

Your hands are shaking so much your fingers keep slipping around the button of his pants. He’s patient. Not criticising, not saying a word. Finally, you get it. You pause a moment to take a breath before you slide his pants down. Or try to slide them down. They’re very tight. He chuckles again as they catch around his erection.

Resting his hands upon yours, you both drag his pants down together.

You’re unable to look at it, the flames in your cheeks getting hotter and hotter at each passing second. Why are you so embarrassed? It’s not as though you’re a virgin.

He doesn’t make fun of you, he doesn’t laugh—though he should! Instead, he takes your hand and rests it upon his shaft. Right on his shaft! Your heart skips a beat.

‘Don’t be afraid.’

‘I’m not afraid,’ you say in a croak. ‘It’s just … overwhelming.’

He smiles his perfect teeth. His Adam’s apple bobs up and down in his strong neck as he chuckles. His pants have caught around his muscular thighs. He’s completely hairless. His balls are so soft-looking you ache to have them in your hand.

He steps out of his boots and removes his pants completely. Taking your hand again, he places it back on his penis, making sure to curve your fingers around it.

It’s unexpectedly large. You study how the hard, rippling muscles of his abdomen join at the base of it. You’re really burning between the hips now. You’ve been so lonely for so long. So empty. Your insides are screaming for it. No more fear. No more fighting. All you want is for him to be inside you. To fill you up. Imaginary or not.

Feeling more daring than you ever thought possible, you reach out with your other hand to gently grab his balls. They feel so good in your hand. So right. You almost groan at the feel of them.

You touch him. You stroke him. The tight velvety skin of his erection feels so soft and wonderful beneath your fingertips. Its head gives a little bob and a droplet of precum blooms at the tip. He’s breathing more rapidly now, and when you look up at him you see that his cheeks are a little pink. As for his eyes … they seem to pin you to the spot. Hungry. Eager. Filled with yearning.

He wants to have you. He wants to keep you. And he wants to now.