I hope you enjoy this second installment of my take on the Fairy Tale secrets mom and dad refused to share with us. Take a look at what really happened with the seven men in the cottage and the Prince that rescued the maiden in distress. Thanks to kendo for the major editing, and the others that read over and offered assistance and suggestions. Thanks everyone, enjoy! ~ Red
"Mirror, mirror, on the stand. Who's the fairest in the land?" Ice spoke the incantation low and quietly.
"Princess White is whom you seek. Her soul is calm, her heart not weak. Her beauty captures every breath. Her body speaks of tenderness. You wish to find the fairest of grace? Look no further then Sophia's face." The green mist disappeared from the mirror, leaving only the reflection of a hate-filled woman.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Richard moved quietly toward the young woman. He knew she did not know he was there. He watched silently as she strolled gracefully through the gardens. Her delicate hands brushed over the soft petals of lilies and roses, while her voice sang a song that pulled at the Prince's heart. His eyes took in the long legs, the round ass and full hips. Her back faced him and he found himself begging to reach out and wrap his hands into the dark mass of curls that cascaded down her back, like ink spilling from a bottle.
Each step she took made her hips sway, and Richard's eyes took in the erotic motion. His body responded and he knew he would have to bury himself in the folds of the delicious seductress before he left that day. He'd come to the Manor weeks ahead of schedule to escort his betrothed back to his castle. Upon approach he'd ordered his entourage ahead to inform the Lady of the Manor he'd arrived, while he scouted out alone. He'd not been expecting the day to produce such a fine woman for his pleasures.
Sophia's feet carried her slowly toward the exit of the gardens. She often came here to enjoy the serenity that was found between the roses and various flowers her recently deceased father, and long dead mother planted years ago. She felt as if they were calling to her, using this place as their way of keeping their memories alive. This place was never invaded by her stepmother Ice, so it quickly became Sophia's sanctuary.
Her father married Ice when he felt it was time for Sophia to have a woman in her life. His heart remained loyal to both Sophia and his dead mate, never giving Ice the love she sought. When he died Sophia learned the true nature of her stepmother, and would often find herself on the receiving end of a slap or the biting end of the whip. This morning Sophia hid out in the gardens once again avoiding a confrontation with her stepmother. Suddenly she heard the snap of a twig and a low grumbled curse.
Richard felt the twig give and he knew the raven haired maid heard the noise. He stopped, and waited for her to turn. When she did, he bowed at the waist, presenting himself to her. "Good morning my dear," his smile reached his eyes, and his fingers came to his lips, blowing a gentle kiss to her in greeting.
Sophia blushed, her white skin glowed a pale pink, she felt the wind caress her cheek as if the man himself pushed it toward her. Her lips rose in a similar smile and she greeted him accordingly with a small curtsy.
Richard enjoyed the view of the lovely lass from behind, but the image he was now enjoying was more delectable then he'd imagined. He advanced slowly on her, wondering if perhaps she were a lady's maid for his wife to be. He secretly hoped she was for his body was becoming more aroused with each step he took. The air he breathed was filled with the aura of the woman; he knew he would have to possess her. Richard's eyes roamed over her features. High cheekbones accented azure blue eyes, and lips the color of the reddest rose hid teeth the color of the finest pearls.
His body reacted violently to the full breasts, and narrow waist. Richard could imagine his hands upon her skin, easily encircling the woman's slim form within his strong grasp. Her hips and legs were just as desirable from the front as they were the back and he wanted nothing more then to feel them wrapped around him, anchoring their bodies together. When his gaze returned to look upon her face, he had already moved close enough to smell her perfumed flesh.
Sophia could feel the flush of her skin, and the heat of the man's studious eyes upon her. She'd never been so openly ogled, and by one someone that was so obvious in their perusal of her. Squaring her shoulders, the young woman stared back at the man. Her own gaze traveled down his form bringing forth a smirk over his aroused state. Her gaze moved back over him noting firm, hard muscles, chiseled features, and eyes that spoke of power through their steely-gray coloring.
She swallowed nervously when she inhaled the scent of him, and felt a stirring in her gut. Sophia thought often these days of men and women, and how they reacted to each other. Her mind consumed with the thoughts of her intended, and whisking her away to his home, often led Sophia to dwell on the happenings that would occur once she became a wife. The betrothal was arranged years ago between her father and the man she knew only as Prince Richard of Warwick. They were to be wedded on her 18th birthday, but the unexpected death of her father delayed the wedding.
"Your name lovely?" Richard asked, taking full advantage of the secluded lush surroundings they were in and touched the woman's face with his strong yet gentle hands.
She cocked her head, refusing to answer his question as she stepped back, forcing him to follow forward or lose the touch of her skin under his palm. Sophia could not tell her name to the stranger, in fear that her stepmother would find out she'd been alone with a man during the day. So quickly she gave the name of her lady's maid, "Mary."
"A beautiful name for a beautiful creature," he moved his hand into her silk tresses. He cupped the back of her head, and pulled her back to him. His other arm circled her waist and he brought her tight against him.
Sophia's eyes widen and she gasped in shock. "Unhand me," she ordered. Her anger mixed with surprise and something else. The something else was what Sophia refused to acknowledge at that moment. Her hands pushed at his shoulders as she realized his intent. "Do not . . . "
The words were cut off as Richard descended and captured her open mouth with his lips. His tongue moved quickly inside, and began to work fast strokes against the sides of her mouth, battled the silkiness of her tongue. His fingers massaged her scalp and his hold on her waist tightened as he pulled her closer to him. He felt the stirring in his cock, and the pulse in his veins quicken as she fought off his ministrations.
Sophia struggled, her mouth tried to leave his, but his strength kept their mouths locked together. Her fingers curled into fists, gathering the fine leather tunic in her hands, she twisted it tightly. She felt the sweeping strokes of his tongue inside her mouth and she pushed hers against him as a defense to force him away from her. Much to her chagrin, the movement did nothing to aid her, but added to the growing desire she was trying to avoid. Sophia heard a small groan and realized it came from herself.
