The Dark Forest: A Collection Of Erotic Fairytales(41)

Finally, the horns sounded signaling her arrival. Rhys eagerly searched the arched doorway for a glimpse of his bride.

Damn, he loved this woman. She was his perfect mate. An intelligent, spirited woman who was strong enough to accept the dominance and control of the man she loves was a rare jewel indeed. He would spend his very last breath making sure she never regretted surrendering to his strength. He also knew he was an absolute beast for not giving her the same gift. Somehow he had held off telling her how he truly felt…how deeply he felt. There was strength in vulnerability. He learned that through her sacrifice. Yet, he had held off till this moment. Their wedding day. He wanted to wait till she was well and truly his. Then he would tell her, Rhys thought with a smile. But not here. Not among these strangers. He would wait till he had her naked underneath him. Till he was deep inside of her, sharing the same heartbeat, the same breath. Then. Then he would do more than just show her how much he loved her. He would say the words. The words he knew she wanted to hear but was too stubborn to admit it. Such spirit! Damn, he loved this woman!

Rhys watched with pride as Beatrice entered the ballroom. There was a collective gasp from the assembled crowd of dignitaries and royal guests. Beatrice was resplendent in a stunning gold silk gown. Accenting her small waist, it floated about her in large, sweeping festoons shimmering with captured light. Her beautiful tawny locks were swept high revealing her slim throat and the gentle curve of her cheek. Her amber eyes were large and bright but even from afar he could read a small amount of trepidation in their depths. No matter how bold and spirited his Beatrice was, facing such a crowd would daunt even the staunchest of soldiers.

The formalities be damned, thought Rhys. Breaking with protocol, he stepped down from the dais and moved with a determined step to her side.

Beatrice’s faced glowed with love and appreciation as Rhys arrived to take her arm. He looked so handsome and strong. Dressed in a deep, royal blue coat which emphasized his immense shoulders and toned chest. She felt a stirring in her belly at the mere sight of him.

Trying to compose herself as they continued with the long procession, Beatrice drew up her courage and finally voiced her last remaining doubt. “You know…you still haven’t said it.”

Rhys looked down into her uncertain eyes. “Said what, my fierce feline,” he teased.

Beatrice blushed at the intimate moniker knowing he now used it to tease her for her tendency to use her nails on his back when they made love. “You know what,” she purred.

“I have already promised to build you the biggest perfumery in all of Europe and to fill my kingdom with fields of roses and lavender. What more needs to be said?” he taunted, knowing full well what she wanted to hear from him.

“Jeanne-Marious Rhysmont, this is not the moment to tease or I swear I will turn and march right back out that door, prince or no prince, kingdom or no kingdom,” said Beatrice through clenched teeth.

“Beatrice Victoria Arbot de Villeneuve, you run and I will give chase,” he playfully warned. “And you will have a sore bottom indeed when I manage to catch you,” he whispered darkly into her ear.

Beatrice blushed deeper.

Taking pity on her as they neared the Bishop who would finally make them man and wife, Rhys decided now was the perfect moment. Leaning in close, he whispered tenderly. “Beatrice, you know I love…have your coffee.”

“What?” asked a confused Beatrice, looking about her with alarm as the candlelit ballroom started to melt and swirl into a kaleidoscope of color.

“Wake up, Beautiful. Coffee’s ready,” said Rhys cheerfully.

“Coffee?”



Bea awoke with a start. Her legs tangled in the sheets. It was a dream, she told herself. Just a dream.





Chapter Ten





“Morning, baby. Coffee?”

Her husband, Rhys, stood by their bed holding two cups of coffee. The rich, chicory scent of tobacco and chocolate dragging her back to reality.

“I just had the craziest dream,” exclaimed Bea as she brushed an errant blonde curl away from her eyes.

“Was it the one where you are sleeping beauty and I’m the dragon?” asked Rhys. Before she could answer, he continued amusedly, “I never quite understood why I was a dragon in that one. Why not the prince? Shouldn’t I be Prince Charming in all your dreams?”

Leaning down, he gave her a quick kiss on the forehead before taking a seat on the edge of the bed.

“You were the dragon because we had gotten into a fight that night,” Bea teased as she stuck her tongue out at him. “Don’t worry. You were a prince in this one…sort of. It was so strange. I was Belle from Beauty and the Beast.”

“So I was the Beast,” Rhys playfully growled as he wagged his eyebrows.

“Not exactly. You could tell it was a dream because the Belle in my dream was all bossy and stubborn and everyone thought she was positively beastly.”

“Yes…yes…that is definitely an upside down world,” quirked Rhys as he handed Bea her Mrs. Always Right mug while taking a sip from his Mr. Right one.

“Ha. Ha,” responded a bemused Bea.

“So a Beauty and the Beast with two beasts. Did we do anything kinky like that time you dreamed you were Cinderella?” asked Rhys with a knowing look.

Bea blushed in response. “Maybe.”