Mary Rayne

Trio of tales: erotically ever after

Red

Red, named because of the flaming color of her hair, walked into the dense, dark forest. On her arm, Red carried a picnic basket filled with all sorts of goodies for the evening. She was on the way to the house her grandmother willed her after passing away a month before. She thought a nice walk through the forest that surrounded the house would help ease the grief she felt due to her loss and remembering the good times she spent there in her childhood years.

A slight breeze blew through the trees, rustling the leaves. The birds perched in the branches above sang their musical songs. The fragrance of wild flowers floated in the air. The snap of a twig drew silence from the forest. Red stopped to listen, looking around at the thick foliage. Seeing nothing, she continued on her way only to stop again when the sound of another twig breaking sounded. This time she slowly turned in a circle.

Once turned in a complete circle she found a tall form standing before her. “Oh!” She gave a cry, her hand jerking to her chest where her heart was pounding wildly.

She’d not heard his approach.

Red’s gaze started at his booted feet, the tops tucked under the tight, black leather pants that hugged his muscular legs. Going further up, she found a black leather vest covering his chest showing a hint of chest underneath that was dusted with dark hair. Her mouth practically drooled at his powerful arms, their definition marked by tattoos on his biceps. His left arm was branded with the head of a gray wolf. His right arm brandished the full body of a wolf.

Red tore her eyes from the markings, moving them up his long neck to a chiseled jaw that held two days growth of hair. His lips formed a crooked grin. His eyes nearly took her breath away. As she gazed into them, she felt like she was drowning in the gold-flecked pools of brown. She’d never seen any quite like them, their color unique.

His hair was worn long, the dark strands, black as night, falling unruly around his face.

It finished off his wild and dangerous appearance.

“Where are you going my little pretty?”

Red nearly fainted with the harmonious low sound that drifted from his voice. It was hushed and husky, but its tone smooth.

“I…” Her voice cracked making her clear it before speaking again. “I’m going to visit my grandmother’s house.”

Red watched his heated gaze trail down her body before coming back up to meet her eyes. She suddenly felt uncomfortable with the outfit she’d decided to wear. The maroon skirt felt too short, it’s hem flaring out inches about her knees. The neckline on her sleeveless tan shirt felt too low-cut, her ample cleavage peaking out. Her calf high black boots even felt too tight under his inspection.

“What’s in the basket?” he asked.

Red licked her suddenly dry lips. Her eyes strayed to his lips, noticing the small scar over the right side of his top lip. She wanted to reach out and touch it, to trace his lips.

“Just some snacks for later.”

He nodded. “Well, I hope your visit goes well,” he said, with that irresistible half grin before continuing down the path.

Fifteen minutes later Red arrived at the small cottage that was concealed by vines and foliage creating a cozy atmosphere. But her mind was no longer thinking of the house or the comfort the forest gave her; only of the dangerously untamed man she had passed in the woods.

* * * *

Connor’s hand trembled slightly, and he felt his stomach tighten. He let out a shaky breath and steeled himself for what lay ahead. Since seeing her earlier he couldn’t get her out of his mind. The way her hair glimmered in the sun while her green eyes gleamed brightly as she looked up at him. Grasping the knob, he pushed the door silently open.

With the curtains drawn and the setting sun, the cottage was darkened, only the reddish-orange illuminated the edges of the curtains. He stood silently within the doorway allowing his eyes to adjust. Looking around, he found the hall and saw a dim flicker of light coming from the end. Soundlessly, Connor moved through the cottage after making sure the lock was secured. He didn’t favor the thought of interruptions.

The dim flicker of light continued from a room off the hall. His breath stopped as soon as he was washed with its glow. There were three candles set around the room, their golden light illuminating the room eerily. He could smell her musky scent of desire before his eyes located her. A low rumble rose from his throat as his eyes beheld her loveliness.

She lay in the center of the four-poster bed, her eyes closed, and her chest rising and falling steadily. Her face was relaxed in sleep, her thick lashes lying upon her cheeks, and her thick lush lips parted slightly. Connor let his eyes graze over her body and felt the heat rise in his body, pooling in his groin.

She lay upon her back with her red locks scattered around her head like a halo, her face turned away from where he stood. Her arms were raised and resting comfortably on the soft pillow. His gaze lowered to the black silk bra she wore and felt his groin tighten in response. The position of her arms and the silky material pushed up the abundant flesh accenting her cleavage. Lowering his gaze, they traveled over her taut stomach and small waist reaching a black garter belt. Its thin straps attached to black stockings that clung to every curve of her lean legs. She wore no panties and with her thighs slightly parted as they were, he had a perfect view of her smoothly shaved folds. Lastly, his eyes took in the pair of black stiletto heels encasing her feet as heat devoured his body.

Connor took in the sight of her, his body reacting strongly as his length strained against his pants. He ached to take her, to thrust deep into her body and rock her until she cried out in pleasure. Balling his hands into fists he took a deep breath to calm his body, only making the mistake of looking at her parted lips. They were painted red and he could almost feel them wrapped around him, her breath warm and moist as she sucked him to oblivion. His body shook as he took another breath, this one deep and cleansing to push the image from his head. It worked for a brief second before the image of her tongue lapping at one of his nipples while her nails bit into his flesh flashed clearly in his mind. Connor shook his head pushing back the image of her writhing body, his body trembling in anticipation.

He squelched the rising growl and turned his attention to the bed. It was perfect for what he had in mind. Reaching into a pocket, Connor pulled out several strips of material. He went to the nearest post at the head of the bed and secured one end to it before silently walking to the other side and doing the same with a second piece of material. With the softest touch manageable, he raised her arm a little further and secured the free end around her wrist. She shifted on the bed and gave a small moan, spurring Connor into action as he swiftly anchored the other wrist like the first.

The woman shifted again, but finding that she could not lower her arms her eyes opened and met with those of brown pools flecked with gold.

“You,” she gasped.

He placed a finger over her lips shushing her. He straightened and moved to the end of the bed to admire his catch. She stayed silent as he eyed her chest heaving with heavy breath. She watched him with hooded eyes, only a sparkle of green showing, hiding her emotions and thoughts. Her tongue darted out to wet her dry lips, making the red color glisten in the candlelight. Her body trembled slightly at the predatory look in his gaze.

“Beautiful.” He hissed softly as he removed his vest and managed to discard his boots with haste. With the stealth of a wild cat, Connor kneeled on the bed, parting her legs further more with his knees, and crawled up her body until he covered her; his leather-encased length nestled tightly against her folds.

“What exotic eyes you have.” Her voice came out thick but soft, and holding a slight tremble. His fingers gently brushed wild strands of hair from her face before brushing down her cheek.

Conner knew his hunger was blazing strong, making the gold in his eyes brighten. “All the better to view your beautiful body with.” His voice was nearly a growl.

She whimpered in response to his tone as his lips descended upon her. His lips scalded hers, their heat making her open to him with a gasp. His tongue took the opportunity to press inside her mouth, exploring, dominating. He could feel the rumble of her moans vibrate against his chest and into their joined mouths. Her scent of desire mingled with her sweet taste was slowly driving Connor mad with need.

Connor pulled away, his mouth filled with her taste but he didn’t go far. He nipped at her swollen lip, her breath coming out in small pants hitting on his own sensitive lips.

“What soft lips you have,” she breathed.

“All the better to taste your sweetness,” he answered with a crooked smirk.

She moved beneath him, the silk of her bra rubbing on his bare chest, sending a shiver down his spine. Her legs shifted and wrapped tightly around his leather clad ones, pinning him to her. The movement caused her folds to tighten around his bulge, threatening to destroy his control. He growled and attacked her neck, kissing her creamy soft skin. He caught her flesh between his teeth and marked her before moving down.

Using his strong arms to lift his upper body, Connor slid down her body as her legs loosened their hold on him.. His tongue left a trail down her throat until he reached the material that covered her breasts. His tongue dipped under the silk and lapped at the skin there. Using his teeth, he managed to uncover her right breast, shoving the bra aside. Red gasped and arched up off the bed.

With a swipe of his tongue, her nipple reacted, stiffening to a tight peak. She moaned when she felt the heat of his breath. He suckled the nipple into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the tip, pulling more blood into it. He lifted his head and gave the other nipple the same attention. Connor lowered his chest and let it brush against her erect nipples. The shock of the sensations made her cry out and her legs tighten around him.

A grin of satisfaction graced his lips as he looked down at her expression of desire. He’d managed to bring her near orgasm, and that was just the beginning.

Connor reached back and pried her legs from him so he could slide down her body until his head rested between her legs. He lifted his eyes, gazing at her luscious curves of perfection. He could see her chest heaving from her rapid breath before she lifted her hips and pushed up toward him with impatience. He knew what she wanted without words.

Lowering his eyes he pushed her legs wider, making her folds open. Her scent assaulted his senses, filling him with a groan, desperately needing a taste of her. Using a single finger he lightly ran it along the edge of her inner lips gathering her wetness.

She flinched and moaned at his touch. Her eyes were pleading for him, begging for the pleasure he could give. Her juices glistened on his finger as he brought it to his mouth.

Her musky desire tasted as sweet as her kisses.

Connor shifted his attention back to Red’s body. He bent his head and let his tongue flick her tight bud. He smiled at the curses flowing from her succulent red lips as her body jumped. She was so close.

His tongue lapped at her folds. At his first touch her hips bucked, trying to get closer to his tantalizing mouth. He growled as her taste fully filled his mouth, her juices flowing freely over his tongue and down his chin. It took very little work before Red was crying out as her orgasm hit hard. Her body arching off the bed, yet pushing her hips down hard on his mouth.

Connor quickly got off the bed as her body eased back to sated reality. He franticly shed his clothing, finally releasing his aching length. He kneeled between her legs and leaned forward capturing her mouth. She sighed pleasurably in to his dominating mouth.

“What a talented tongue you have,” she breathed in his ear when their kiss broke.

“All the better to please you with, my pretty,” Connor growled, as he entered her body with one swift thrust.

His groan mixed with her gasp as her tightness settled around him. He stilled his motions to keep his control as another orgasm wracked her body. When she calmed, Connor started slow, sliding in and out of her slick core. Her wetness slurped with his movements, the sound of their bodies rubbing together sent heated fire through his veins.

Lowering his head, Connor claimed her mouth, swallowing her whimpers. Their bodies moved as one, their pace increasing. Harsh breaths forced their kisses to end. As Red threw her head back Connor bent his head and nipped at her shoulder. Feeling her body spasm upon his embedded length, Connor could no longer hold back. With a loud animalistic growl, he threw his head back and thrust twice more before letting orgasm claim his body.

Connor’s arms gave out, causing his body to lie upon Red’s. His muscles quivered from their exertion. He could feel Red’s body trembling from the intense orgasms that had assaulted her. It was several minutes before either could move as they recovered from the storm of pleasure.

Connor was finally able to lift his body from Red’s on shaky limbs. A chill replaced the heat where their bodies had touched. Reaching up, he loosened the material still holding her wrists before drawing her into his arms, holding her close while a hand ran through her hair.

“Mmmm,” she said contently, eyes closed, a look of pure happiness filling her face. “Little Red Riding Hood never had it so good.” She sighed.

Connor chuckled and kissed her head. “I say we play French Maid next week.” Red smiled, opens her eyes, and looked up at his striking eyes. “I think that can be arranged.” Snuggling into the crook of his neck, she relaxed. “I love you, my big, bad wolf.”

“I love you, Red.”

They fell asleep feeling sated, living happily ever after…to play again.

Cynderella

Once upon a time, there lived a beautiful blonde haired child. At a young age it was evident her beauty would surpass those around her. Her features were of the finest crafted porcelain dolls, eyes as blue and clear as the sea, and lips full of shape and color.

Her mother named her Cynderella, but her father simply called her Cyn.

Cyn knew death early in life. She lost her mother when she was just a babe. In turn, her father doted on her and loved her so much that she never felt a shortage of love having lost her mother, but she lacked the feminine companionship that most daughters had. Being born to a Count, Cyn lacked for nothing, but she was not one of a spoiled nature. Her sweet, compassionate spirit radiated from her in all she did. Easily she won the affection of the staff her father had to care for her.

When Cyn was eleven, her father found love again and married the widow Anna. She brought to the marriage two daughters. The oldest, Dana, was a year older than Cyn. She had long, stringy brown hair and she appeared mousy and plain, despite her rich clothing. The younger one, Misty, was a year younger than Cyn. Misty’s hair was dark and oily looking and seemed as plain as her sister. Both girls were snobby and spoiled.

At first Cyn was excited with the thought of having a mother and sisters in her life. She eagerly looked forward to the day that her father’s bride would bring her daughters to live with them. However, soon after their arrival, Cyn quickly learned that her new family members didn’t like her. No matter how hard Cyn tried to get along with the girls or her stepmother, they treated her unkindly. It was only her father that brought real joy to her life, but that too came to an end. Because of his duties as a Count, Cyn’s father often traveled and she always dreaded his absences, but she would continue with her studies and wait patiently for his return, enduring the wrath of her stepsister’s insults and her stepmother ignoring her. She found a little comfort in the servants that she’d grown up with but they were not her father.

Four years after his marriage to her stepmother, the Count never returned home.

Thieves killed him. Poor Cyn. Her life was shattered. She had no other living relatives and was left to the care of her stepmother. For the first time in her life, Cyn felt truly alone and grieved.

Anna allowed Cyn a proper mourning period. She and her stepsisters were actually nice to Cyn while friends came to pay their sympathies to them. Cyn began to think that maybe life for the next three years, until she received her inheritance, wouldn’t be so bad after all. She had never been more wrong.

Once the mourning time was completed, Anna quickly sold off every servant in the home and hired a new cook who was stern and unfriendly. Anna stripped Cyn of all of her nice belongings, moved her to a room in the attic, and made her clean the house and wait on them as a servant. Cyn did the laundry, mending, along with anything else they could think of for her to do.

Cyn no longer wore beautiful gowns specially made for her, only drab working clothing. Often she sported dirt and soot on her skin and clothes due to her hard work.

She was made to put her long locks up and cover them with a kerchief so no one could see the golden color or soft tresses. Anna more than once threatened to cut her hair if she saw any of it in her presence.

Her stepmother cut Cyn from all life outside the walls of their home. When visitors came to call she was locked in her room out of view. At night she was locked away, only allowed out when Cook unlocked the door in the mornings so she may begin her chores. Cyn did as she was told, not once complaining, for that was her way.

She had no one to ask help from, for all she had known were no longer there to assist her. All the servants she loved had been sold and sent to far away places.

While alone in her room at night, Cyn would often open the window and look up at the sky. Watching the stars, she would allow herself to dream of a handsome Prince coming to her rescue, sweeping her off her feet, and taking her somewhere away from her dreary life of servitude. She dreamed of a man who would love and cherish her for the rest of her life. She knew they were childish dreams, but they were all she had that was truly hers.

The oldest stepsister, Dana, enticed a rich Duke into marrying her during her first season. Unknown to Cyn, Anna had split Cyn’s dowry and added it to Dana’s as incentive to her husband. Her other stepsister Misty, her contract of marriage took a bit longer. She was not chosen in her first season like her sister, but managed to get an unwitting Duke caught in a compromising position during her second season. This forced him into marrying her and the rest of Cyn’s dowry added helped for him to be more cooperative.

Cyn was glad to see them go. She was tired of their impulsive ways and thought her life would settle down and be easier. But Anna had other plans.

Shortly after Misty married Anna announced that she too would re-wed, now that her daughters were taken care of. Marques Hadenshire had been courting her for a couple of years knowing she wished for her daughters’ security to come first. It was also profitable for him, for he did not have to add his own wealth to their dowries.

Cyn was ecstatic. She was sure that Anna would allow her to have her house back and leave her be. All she wanted was her childhood home. She cared little for riches. But Cyn’s fate was not to be that kind.

Anna sold Cyn’s childhood home, stating that she no longer wanted any reminders of her horrible time in the country, and then sold Cyn to the Palace as a servant. She told Cyn that since she was not her blood, she had no obligations to her future. Anna also threatened Cyn not to tell a soul who she really was. Anna explained how no one would believe her for soon after her father died she’d spread the rumor that Cynderella had run away in grief over her father. The rumor also included that Cyderella had taken to selling her body to survive and was killed by a drunken drifter.

The girl known as Cynderella Jamison, daughter to the Count of Venshire, had been dead for over five years and her reputation in ruins.

Cyn was devastated. Once more, the life she knew had been destroyed. She had nothing left but the nickname that her father called her and her memories. Anna had even changed her last name when Cyn was sold off. Her dreams were lost and her heart ached with sadness. But Cyn was a Jamison. Not wanting to shame her father’s memory, even if no one knew who she really was, she held her head high, refusing to let her emotions show, saving the tears for when she was alone.

With one final glace at her home, Cyn was transported to the Palace the next day.

Anna wasted no time in wiping her hands free of extra responsibility. Cyn was given a small room with two other servant girls. One was a cook and the other a maid, both near her age. They became friends and helped Cyn learn her way around the Palace.

Her duties were fairly simple. Cyn was to clean the many bedrooms and prepare them for guests. She had free reign of the Palace with the exception of the East Wing where the Royal family lived. She was also to act as a maid to those Ladies who had none traveling with them. Cyn easily settled into the stable life, content with her duties, finding it was much easier than waiting upon her ever demanding stepmother and stepsisters.

Many nights Cyn snuck up to the roof of one of the towers. It was her favorite place to retreat from everyone and everything. A place where she could forget who she was and what her life had become. From there she could see out across the vast kingdom and get a clear view of the sky. Her dreams from childhood past were revived in this place.

Often she’d lie on her back and gaze up at the darkened sky, thinking of finding her love. This man would sweep her from the life of servitude she’d grown into and pamper her with kisses and caresses. The man would be handsome and loving. His body would ignite her blood with every look and touch. She would be the center of his world, protecting her from the evil that roamed the world.

While thoughts of how her man would worship her body, Cyn would reach a hand under her skirts and touch where moisture gathered in her curls. She would imagine that her fingers were his as they caressed between her folds. That it was him slipping his fingers into her heated core letting it soak them with her wetness. She would moan as she brought herself to climax, and only then would her fantasy world fade and reality invaded again.

Late one night Cyn sat on the rooftop and looked up at the cloudless star filled sky. Music from below floated up to her ears. There was a celebration that evening, for the Prince had returned home after being gone for some time. She’d prepared all the guest rooms earlier and with no other duties needed of her, she was free for the rest of the evening.