Cinderella And Prince Dom Read online

  “Most of them are wearing black.” Then she spotted the one Lucy was staring at. Not only was he in black, but he had a definite wolfish appearance, wearing a leather mask that covered most of his face, leaving his mouth visible.

  Her gaze traveled down his long, lean length. “OMG, Luc!”

  Lucy’s hopeful was the cliché of tall, dark, and brooding, but it was his pants that sent lust zinging through Jaimie. His tight leather costume was one piece and clung to his body like a second skin. Except his pants had no crotch. A black glove cupped his impressive bulge. Even his hands were gloved in black. His eyes glittered as he stared at Lucy as though he were a hungry wolf.

  “He looks dangerous.”

  Lucy’s eyebrow rose and her smile turned sly. “Deliciously dangerous.”

  Jaimie studied the rest of the men. Several wore velveteen tunics and pants regal enough to be her prince, but she had no way of knowing for sure. God, don’t let it be the one wearing a thong and black leather harness. “Which one do you think is my prince?”

  Lucy frowned. “I don’t know. Could be any of them. Well, those who look princely anyway.” She sighed. “Have you ever seen so many good-looking men in one place? All those strong, muscular bodies. I’m getting wet just thinking about fucking my wolf.”

  “Luc!” Her face flamed. The room hummed with sexual energy. “If lust could be bottled, this room would be worth a fortune,” she muttered, glancing down the line of women. She spotted Snow White, a woman she thought might be Sleeping Beauty, and Rapunzel, with her long, blond hair.

  Grinning, Lucy nudged Jaimie and chuckled. “Look, there’s Little Bo Peep and Mary who lost her lamb.”

  Jamie studied the two women who’d just entered. Both were short and cute. Mary looked like a schoolgirl in her pink dress with Peter Pan collar while Bo’s costume consisted of a white blouse and red checked skirt that bounced with every step, revealing a red garter holding up her stockings. She carried a hooked staff.

  Bo grinned as she bounced up to them. “I’m little Bo Peep, and I’m looking for my sheep.” She turned her head and looked at the men.

  “Ah, I see them. “ She skipped over to two men who immediately fell to their hands and knees.

  Jaimie’s jaw dropped, and her eyes nearly boggled right out their sockets. Bo’s skirt had been cut away in the back, revealing the woman’s very nice backside and the fact she wore a red thong, leaving the rest of her bare. She reached the two men wearing furry hats and collars—and little else—and hooked the end of her staff around the neck of one man and clipped a rope leash to the collar of the second man, then led them to the other end of the room. Jaimie couldn’t take her eyes off the men’s nicely rounded asses.

  “Ah, Little Bo Beep’s found her sheep,” Lucy said with a giggle.

  “Lucy!” Her voice hitched to a squeak. What the hell had she gotten herself into? “I can’t do this. I’m not into whips and bondage and whatever else goes on here.” Panic rose and closed off her throat. She glanced at the door, ready to bolt, but Lucy grabbed her arm.

  “Relax, Jaimie. Give yourself a chance.” She leaned close. “I promise you’re going to have the best sex this side of the Rockies.”

  Before she could respond, the double doors swept open and a tall, incredibly and impossibly handsome man entered. Though his eyes were masked, the rest of his features promised strength from his square jaw, firm yet plump lips, and aquiline nose. He wore royal purple leather with gold accents and a purple cape of velvet edged in white. The metallic thread throughout his cape glittered and sparked in the bright lights.

  “I bet he’s your prince.” Lucy elbowed Jaimie.

  All thoughts of leaving vanished as Jaimie stared at newcomer. Oh man, let that be my prince! The tunic hugged his body, showing off wide shoulders, a nice broad chest, flat belly, and narrow hips. Her gaze lowered.

  Oh my! The leather of his pants was skintight and left little to the imagination. He was huge. She wanted more than anything for him to stop and let her run her fingers along the outline of his cock. The gasps from the women closest to her said that they all wanted that prince to be their partner.

  He walked past without acknowledging her, and she had to work to stifle her moan. His beautifully rounded ass begged to be caressed. Okay, she was getting wet just thinking of sex with that man. Let him be mine!

  “If that’s my prince, I’m in heaven,” she whispered to Lucy.

  He took his place at the end of the line of men. When he turned and surveyed the room, she stared, lust in her ears and in her blood. She throbbed with need. Yep, wet with lust.

  Her attention was drawn back to the door when Hastings stepped in and announced, “Queen Grimhilde.”

  Jaimie gaped at the tall woman in leather and lace and the four men who followed, two to the right, two to the left, each a step behind their queen. The men wore shiny black boots, full masks, and sling-style fishnet bodysuits that did little to hide their cocks.

  The woman pulled a short whip from her belt and snapped it. The room went quiet, and the music faded away. “Good afternoon, my lovely subjects. I’m Queen Grimhilde, Snow White’s evil stepmother, and as I survey all of you gathered in this room, I declare I am still the fairest in all the land.”

  Jaimie laughed with everyone else, though hers was edged with nerves.

  “Your host, as usual, is otherwise engaged, but has made available his castle and grounds. Most of you know the rules. Those who are new, your partner will explain what you need to know. You will each be shown to your quarters for the weekend. We’ll meet in the ballroom Saturday evening for the ball. Until then, remember—safe, sane, and consensual.” She began calling couples and sending them on her way. Bo Peep wasted no time shooing her sheep out the door at the back of the room.

  “Red Riding Hood. Your wolf awaits.”

  Lucy gave Jaimie a wide grin and stepped forward. To Jaimie’s surprise, her friend knelt before her partner while he walked around her several times then snapped his fingers. Lucy stood, head bowed, and followed her playmate out.

  “Cinderella.”

  Jaimie hesitated, then stepped forward. She glanced at the other end of the room, but the prince she hoped was hers wasn’t there.

  “You will be taken to your carriage.” The queen snapped her fingers, and one of the men in black stepped forward.

  “If you will follow me?” He bowed low.

  Jaimie followed her guide back through the mansion and out the front door, then gasped. The queen hadn’t been joking. There, waiting for her, was a white horse-drawn carriage with a footman standing beside the open door. The inside was a deep, rich burgundy. She got in, and as the team of horses set out, she felt as though she’d stepped into another time and place.

  The estate was large and beautiful from the wide expanse of lawn, formal gardens, and trees lining the gravel road. The horses finally stopped in front of a tiny white cottage surrounded by a wild array of wildflowers. Afternoon sun lit the entire house. The scene reminded her of a brilliant painting.

  The footman opened the door of the carriage. In a bit of a daze, she stepped out.

  “There you go, miss.”

  Jaimie watched the carriage continue down the path, then walked to the door. Did she knock or just go in? Figuring this was like a hotel and this was her room for the weekend, she entered. And there, standing near the fireplace, stood her prince.

  Chapter Two

  Her prince charming stood with hands behind his back, feet placed apart, and shoulders pulled back as though he were in the military. He stared at her but didn’t so much as twitch a muscle. Shy and uncertain, Jaimie hesitated. How did one start a weekend of sex?

  “You may come in and shut the door.” His voice was low, deep, and as authoritative as a commanding officer.

  Jaimie closed the door and walked into the room. “I’m—”

  “I know who you are, Cinderella. I am your prince.” He motioned to a black leather couch strewn with red a
nd white pillows. “Sit. We have some business to take care of.”

  Sitting on the edge of the couch, Jaimie forced herself to rest her hands in her lap and not twist her fingers together. She was nervous as hell, but she was also turned on. Her prince had a prime body, and she yearned to run her fingers over his chest, down his belly, and around to his very fine ass.

  “What are you thinking?”

  Flushing at his question, which sounded more like a demand, Jaimie wrinkled her nose. “I’m thinking that you have a very fine ass.”

  He lifted a brow. “Eager to begin?”

  When nervous or excited, Jaimie’s lips twitched on her left side, which made her a horrible poker player. Her lips were twitching now. “I’ve never—”

  “I know,” he interrupted. “Let’s get back to business.” He flicked his wrist, and an envelope landed neatly on the table in front of her.

  A bit put out by his abruptness, Jaimie lifted a brow but reached for the envelope. She eyed her partner warily.

  “That is the result of my blood work, assuring you of my clean bill of health. I’ve seen yours.”

  Jaimie scanned the single sheet of paper, noting that the name had been blacked out. She set it down. “Okay, what now?”

  “Let’s talk about your sex life. I read the questionnaire you filled out and understand you’re game for a bit of light BDSM.”

  “What?” The spit in Jaimie’s mouth dried. “What do you mean by light BDSM?” She was going to kill Lucy. She’d assumed many of the men and women she’d seen earlier were into some kinky stuff, but there’d been others wearing normal costumes. Like her.

  “Dominant and submissive role playing.”

  “Roles? As in I’m Cinderella and you’re the Prince?”

  His lips curved in amusement. “Not quite. I am a Dominant who requires a submissive. I am your Dom and you are my sub. Those are our roles for the weekend.”

  Jaimie stood. Yep. Her friend deserved a slow, torturous death. “I think there’s been a misunderstanding. I’m not into kinky sex or pain. I agreed to a weekend of free food, being waited on, and having sex with my prince charming.”

  “Come with me.” Without waiting to see if she followed, he left the room.

  Once again, his deep baritone strummed through Jaimie, igniting a need to do whatever he asked. She found herself following him meekly into a large bedroom dominated by a bed on a pedestal. She pressed her hand into her stomach. Was he going to fuck her now? Oh god, she’d definitely made a mistake in agreeing to this.

  “Stand in front of this mirror.” His arm swept out and pointed to an antique, freestanding mirror.

  Jaimie obeyed. Her prince walked behind her, and they stared at each other through the glass.

  “Tell me about your last lover.” His eyes, a greenish-blue, bore into hers.

  “Mike was a dick.” Her nerves tingled. He was so close; she felt his warmth along her back.

  “In what way?”

  She drew her brows together. “This is personal.”

  “I have my reasons for asking.” He stared at her, silently commanding her to explain.

  She sighed, wishing she could see her prince’s face. “He was concerned with his own needs. Basically, he wasn’t much better than a rutting pig. He never got me off.”

  To her surprise, he nodded. “How many lovers have you had that fucked you until you were screaming for release?”

  Her heart thumped against her ribs, and she quivered deep inside her sex at the thought of that happening. “None,” she whispered.

  “How many lovers brought you to your peak over and over until your orgasms ripped you apart?” He placed his hands on her shoulders, his gaze holding hers in the mirror.

  Jaimie’s jaw dropped. Damn, his questions had her clit throbbing and begging to be brought to peak over and over. Her panties suddenly went from damp to wet. “None,” she again whispered.

  He brushed her hair to one side. “You give control of your body to me for this weekend, and I promise you will not go unsatisfied.” He leaned down and feathered his lips along the side of her neck.

  She quivered inside. “I’m not anyone’s slave.”

  “I’m not looking for a slave. I want a woman who is intelligent and knows her own mind.”

  Jaimie tipped her head to one side to give him full access. It was getting hard to think with his warm breath in her ear. “Then why do you want someone who is submissive?”

  “Because a smart submissive knows that when she gives up control, she gets what she wants.”

  “What does she want?” Jaimie groaned. She knew what she wanted.

  “She wants her Dom to take her on a sexual journey so she can discover what her needs are and have those needs satisfied.” His voice slid through her like warmed honey.

  “You don’t know me.” Her breaths became short gasps when his tongue swirled in her outer ear.

  “By the time this weekend is over, I will know every inch of you.” He drew in her ear lobe and sucked the soft flesh, then raked his teeth over her lobe. “I will know every secret your body holds. I’ll find all those sensitive spots that crave to be touched, and when I find and touch them, your pussy will weep for my cock, my sweet Cinderella.” He hands slid around her waist.

  Oh my god. Jaimie’s knees nearly gave out at the way he’d drawn out her role-play name, making it sound like he was saying Siiinnn-derella. No one had ever talked dirty to her like this. Mike’s version of dirty talk was to tell her he wanted to fuck, but that was it. Even his attempt to talk dirty had left her cold.

  “First, you agree to be my sub. Think of it as though I’m your boss in the office.”

  “This would be considered sexual harassment,” Jaimie said as she leaned back against her prince, shivering as his tongue traced the swirls of her ear.

  He chuckled and lifted his head. “We’re creating our own fantasy world here. You ever been called up to the top floor to have sex with a rich CEO?”

  “No. Where I worked, I was a peon. The CEO never mixed with us worker drones. Didn’t even have an office in our building.”

  “That’s too bad. Did you have fantasies about being fucked by him?” His lips nipped along the side of her neck.

  “No.”

  “Why not?” He shoved the neckline of her top off her shoulder.

  Jaimie wanted him to stop talking and keep kissing her. “’Cause he’s probably old and fat. With a beer belly.” God, don’t stop.

  His laughter in the hollow of her neck sent delicious cravings for his mouth against her skin from her tummy down to her curled toes.

  “How about we pretend that I’m the CEO and I’ve called my lowly, naughty peon up to my richly appointed office for a weekend of overtime.”

  “What do I have to do?” His hands skimmed down her sides, following her waist to her hips.

  “You must obey me and do everything I tell you.”

  “And if I don’t?”

  His hands cupped her ass and squeezed. He lifted his head and watched her in the mirror. “Then I’ll have to spank you.”

  Jaimie, floating on a haze of desire, nearly choked. “What?”

  He pulled her skirt up, slid his hands beneath, and rubbed each palm across her cheeks. “If you are naughty, I’ll make you get on your hands and knees and I’ll spank you.” His hand snaked around her when she jerked away.

  Shit! Lucy is so dead!

  “There are other rules.” He shifted his hands until they rested beneath her breasts.

  Jaimie was still trying to deal with the idea of being spanked. “More?” Her voice ended on a squeak.

  “Oh, yes. A good Dom always has rules to help his sub. It’s my job to pleasure you this weekend, and I plan to make you scream with each and every orgasm. You will have so many orgasms, you won’t be able to keep count. To do this, I need rules.” He nipped her shoulder.

  Jaimie groaned as an electrical jolt zipped from shoulder to her clit. “I can’t think when y
ou do things like that,” she complained. Hell, she couldn’t think past his promise of multiple orgasms.

  “Don’t think. Listen.” He lifted his head. “First rule. This weekend, your body belongs to me. In order to pleasure you, I require access. That means no bras or panties unless I give you permission.”

  “I bought new, sexy lingerie for this weekend.”

  He stepped back. “Remove your thong.”

  Cold air brushed Jaimie’s back, and she longed to have him close. Hell, he could bend her over and take her right there and then.

  “I don’t like to repeat myself. If you want sex, you will do as I say.”

  Watching him in the mirror, she realized he was serious. Already she was recognizing the tone that brooked no argument, and surprisingly, that deep, honey-smooth voice of his made her go weak at the knees. Question was, did she really want to participate in this game?

  She thought of what he’d said, what he promised, and remembered how Mike had left her unsatisfied. Her previous lover hadn’t been much better, so yes, she desperately wanted to experience the pleasure he promised. She instinctively knew he wasn’t exaggerating.

  If he said he could make her scream and beg for release, she believed him. She lifted her skirt, exposing her black thong. She pushed the lacy fabric down her legs and stepped out of it. When he held out his hand, she picked up the scrap of silk and handed it to her prince.

  He smiled, lifted it to his face, and inhaled deeply. “You’re turned on and wet, my sweet. Do you agree to be my sub?”

  Jaimie nodded. “Yes. But no whips.” That kind of pain would kill her fantasy.

  He lifted a brow, turned, and strode to one of the armoires in the room. From a drawer, he took out a whip with short leather tassels and ran his hand along its length as he retraced his steps. Jaimie turned to face him. He stopped in front of her.

  “Choose a safeword.” He trailed the tip of the whip down along the buttons of her dress.

  “What is a safeword?” Jaimie’s throat was so dry she could barely get the question out.

  “It’s a word that when spoken, stops everything. If something gets too much for you, you say your safeword and I will stop, and then we will talk about why you needed to call a halt to whatever we were doing.” The whip continued its downward path.