When she'd first come to Longpaw Castle, Belle had found the place lovely and her every desire met in terms of luxury. Considering the deal she'd gotten on her room and board at the converted hostel, she was shocked at how wonderful the service was. Of course, she should have known from the start that it was too good to be true.
She'd been especially taken aback by the interest the castle's keeper, whom the staff referred to as Lord Dante, showed in her. He courted her, really, walking her around the gardens at dusk, showing her all the expansive rooms of the castle, and inviting her to a private dinner with him in his personal dining room.
So, when he'd come to her room and bedded her the first time, she'd been more than willing. What a story to tell -- coming to a foreign land and being wooed by the lord of the manor while staying in rooms fit for a queen. Her friends would go crazy to hear of the absolute blissful fairy tale she'd lived for two weeks.
But things had changed when she'd mentioned her impending departure. Lord Dante had gone into a rage, thrown her into this room she'd adored, lush with satin and silk, and locked her in. She hadn't been out since, the door only opened long enough for servants with eyes cast to the floor to bring her food and drink.
It had been two days.
And she was supposed to fly out tomorrow.
Belle didn't get upset often, and she certainly didn't go emo, getting all depressed or feeling hopeless. But this was a situation she had never expected to encounter. She was being held captive, and no one was willing to help her get out of here.
The worst part was, now that she listened and paid attention to things around her, she heard other women screaming from time to time. On occasion, it didn't sound as though they were in pain, or suffering in any way. But often, it resonated like pleas, the same ones she was guilty of in begging for release.
She'd refused her earlier meal, and now, she stared at the latest offerings that had been left only a few minutes ago by an apologetic looking frail man in his later years. Her stomach growled. She was ravenous, but she couldn't sit here and accept the kindness of a man who, at the same time, rendered her hostage, could she? No, she must rebel. It was the only way to make her point.
As those words crossed her mind, the door creaked open, and she held her breath, wondering if this was to be the end. Maybe Dante was truly a sick man and held women captive, only to satisfy lustful cravings and then murder them. Or perhaps it was just another servant, coming to collect her untouched tray of food. Either way, a sense of doom settled over her, and she stood, waiting for the inevitable.
When Lord Dante himself stepped inside, clad in an expensive suit and wearing an expression of extreme embarrassment across his perfectly sculpted, patrician features, Belle dared to hope momentarily for a bout of sanity to strike him, for him to release her. He cleared his throat before he spoke, bowing to her in a most formal manner.
"Lady Belle, I wish to apologize for my earlier behavior. I have a tendency to mismanage my anger and am prone to bouts of uncontrollable rage. I hope you don't hold that against me."
She raised an eyebrow at him. Was he serious? Crossing her arms and copping an attitude, she glared at him. "I don't believe any issue you may or may not have justifies locking me in a room like a prisoner for two days. Do you realize I could file kidnapping charges against you right now?"
His face grew more grim, and the light filtered across the dusting of his five o'clock shadow that spoke to just how quickly his beard grew. It did wonders to accent his fine cheekbones and strong jaw line, but she focused on his words, spoken between clenched teeth, rather than on his beauty. It would keep her angry at the man with whom she'd almost fallen in love.
"My sincerest apologies, Belle. I panicked when you spoke of leaving and couldn't bear the thought, not after the connection we've had and the nights of pleasure we've shared. Did none of that mean anything to you?"
Frustrated, Belle narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously. She didn't want to admit just how much she wanted to stay, just how much the time had meant to her, not after this behavior. And she certainly didn't know which version of the man to trust -- this kind, gentle Dante or the one who had locked her away without a second thought. He was of dual minds, and in her book, that sort of mental instability spelled disaster.
"Dante, if you really cared about me, you wouldn't have tossed me in here and forgotten about me for two days before you came to apologize. It's truly frightening, and I'd like you to just let me go."
There was a plea in his eyes she didn't understand as he spoke again. "I had no choice, Belle. I had things I had to attend to and am only now free of the burden. Trust me, I would have come sooner, had I been able." He moved toward her, and she fought the instinct to pull away as he reached up to touch her cheek. "You are the most kind, considerate woman I've met in ages. If you would only give me one more chance, I could prove to you the sort of man I would be for you."
The warmth of his skin tingled against her face, and while she wanted to hate him for his treatment of her, she couldn't help suddenly feeling drawn to him, feeling a great sorrow for a man who seemed so lonely. With a sigh, she asked, "Am I free to move about as I please?"
He leaned in, his mouth less than an inch from hers as he breathed, "Give me only what I ask, and I will give you everything you desire and more."
She felt her rage slipping from her grasp, and as his lips moved ever so slightly against hers, lust replaced her anger. She threw her arms around him and pulled him with her to the bed, tearing at his suit and not caring what sort of damage was done to it, even as he worked to remove her clothing. Belle was desperate to have this man buried inside her again, and as his erection sprang free, she grasped it and stroked the length of it roughly, with demand, the long cock already firm and growing larger and harder with her ministrations.
As she worked her magic, Dante slid two fingers inside her, eliciting a moan, then a cry of ecstasy as he curled them and pressed her spot, making sparks erupt in her vision. His tongue laved at her breasts, swirled around her nipples while he thrust into her over and over, until the pleasure was so intense it threatened to shatter her into a million pieces.
"Please, Dante, I want you inside me." Her words were a whimper, a begging moan, and without question, he moved to comply. He slipped her hand from his cock and mounted her, placing her ankles on his shoulders for the best angle to fill her fully. Her anticipation causing heart palpitations, Belle screamed out with another blinding orgasm as he entered her completely, thrusting in one long stroke so he was buried in her to the hilt of his sword. And the waves of satisfaction felt as though they split her in two. She couldn't breathe, couldn't see, couldn't think as he moved fast and hard, a savage rhythm that promised an even more animalistic release.
When Dante came, it was with fury and passion, and he threw his head back, crying out as he spilled into her and making her come yet again, joining him at the height of his ecstasy. She clung to him, knowing from previous experience that this part would not last nearly long enough to satisfy her but getting the most from the feel of his hot, sweaty body pressed to hers in mutual satisfaction.
