The Princess Deception

This erotic story excerpt by Nell Stark from The Princess Deception was originally published by Bold Strokes Books and is a Winner in the Good Sex Awards Sexiest Consent Category.

The Princess Deception

Viola took her time undressing. She started by kicking off her shoes, then trailed both hands up, up along her thighs, slipping beneath the hem of her dress to work her lace bikini down her legs. Duke’s eyes, alight with desire, followed the trail of flexing fingers and freshly revealed skin. When Duke licked her lips, Viola’s vision blurred on a tide of wanting. Fighting to regain her composure, she stepped out of her underwear and reached up to undo the small hook at the back of her dress.

“I have this need,” she began—and then stopped, hating the vulnerability in her own voice. That flash of anger burned through the fog of her arousal, reminding her of the mission: to finally feel Duke yield, and to force this ridiculous spark between them to burn itself out.

Duke took one step forward. “Whatever you need from me,” she said hoarsely, “is yours.”

Already, her surrender was so sweet, but Viola wanted so much more. She turned, silently presenting Duke with her back, and couldn’t keep from shivering as Duke’s warm fingertips brushed her nape.

She pulled the zipper down slowly, but when she turned the motion into a caress of Viola’s hips, Viola moved forward, breaking the contact.

“The first thing I need,” she said, easing the dress’s collar off her shoulders, “is for you to choose a safe word.”

Duke’s face went slack with shock, and her gaze flicked around the room as if its corners held some clue as to what Viola would do. “Why?”

Slowly, Viola eased the dress down her arms and torso, shimmying slightly to push the material over her waist. When it pooled to the floor at her feet, she stepped over the puddle of fabric.

“Because,” she said in what she hoped could pass as a conversational tone, “I’m going to fuck you until you beg me to stop. But I won’t. Not until I hear that word.”

Duke’s quiet gasp struck Viola like an electric shock. She traced two fingers along Duke’s jawline before dragging them across her lips. Duke kissed them swiftly, then opened her mouth to pull them inside. She hollowed her cheeks, sucking firmly as she swirled and fluttered her tongue. Viola felt a rush of wetness between her legs, and she pulled away, reaching down to smooth the moisture along the contours of her own sex. The first touch was sweeter than usual, the sensation only heightened by the sight of Duke’s glazed eyes and stunned expression. She changed the focus of her fingers, circling lightly, and watched Duke swallow hard. When Viola stroked experimentally across her clitoris, gasping at the delicious pressure, Duke moved toward her.

Immediately, she removed her hand. “Don’t you dare, until I say you can.”

Duke made a strangled noise in the back of her throat, and Viola laughed. Teasing her was even better than she had imagined.

She cupped her own breasts lightly in her palms, then flicked her nipples with each thumb and smiled when Duke’s hands clenched. It felt good—so good—to be wanted with such ferocity.

“Tell me the word you’ve chosen.”

“Soccer.”

Viola spared a fleeting thought for its significance—despite her inability to play, Duke apparently still associated her sport with safety—before her reason was overruled by a single imperative: to take. She had what she needed: consent to proceed, and the mechanism to maintain that consent.

She repeated the word for both their benefits and took one long step closer. “You can say it right now, if you want to end this. Walk away before I do.” Viola watched her barbs find their mark, taking satisfaction in Duke’s visible flinch. “But I don’t think you will. Because part of you believes that if we sleep together, something will change.”

Duke’s shoulders straightened and a gleam of defiance made her eyes only more alluring. “I’m fighting for us the only way I can.”

Anger flared again. “You forfeited ‘us’ when you published that story.”

“But I swear I didn’t—”

“No,” Viola said, injecting all her pent-up pain into that single syllable. “I didn’t come here to have this argument again.” Duke’s eyes beseeched her silently, but she hardened herself against it. “Now, undress yourself. Don’t rush.”

Duke did as she was told, though even while trying to move slowly, she managed to rip a seam in her tank top as she raised it over her head.

Her gaze was riveted to Viola’s, and the need her eyes betrayed was intoxicating.

As each inch of pale skin was revealed, Viola felt her own desire ratchet higher. Duke’s breasts were larger than Viola’s, though her nipples were smaller, and very pale.

Viola’s mouth watered at the thought of licking and sucking them, forcing them to swell and darken, but she forced herself to stand still as Duke peeled her shorts down her chiseled legs. She had enough self-control to wait, and forcing Duke to do the same only heightened her arousal. But when Duke finally stepped out of the fabric and stood before her wearing only a black thong, Viola’s patience snapped. She grabbed Duke’s hips, devouring her mouth as she pushed her against the edge of the bed. Duke toppled onto it and Viola followed her down, never breaking the kiss. She slid one thigh between Duke’s legs and permitted herself a moment of fierce triumph as wetness smeared her skin.

“So responsive,” she murmured against the shell of Duke’s ear, flicking lightly at the lobe.

“For you,” Duke said, the final syllable eliding into a moan as Viola thrust against her.

Viola increased the pressure of her leg until she wrung a sharp cry from Duke’s throat. Then she eased back, holding Duke’s hips to the bed and kneeling between her legs.

“How badly do you want to taste me?” Viola said, exulting in the audible intake of breath that greeted her question.

“Please,” Duke whispered, and she dared to trail her fingers along Viola’s forearms until Viola grasped both hands and pushed them down to either side of her head.

“Keep them here until I say otherwise,” she said fiercely, “or I’ll get up and leave. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Duke stuttered, her voice hoarse as her hands clenched into fists. The tendons in her forearms flickered.

Viola lowered herself until her breast was in reach of Duke’s mouth. Duke reared up and caught her nipple between her lips, swiping quickly with her tongue as though she feared Viola might pull away before Duke could truly taste her.

Good. She should be afraid. But as Duke’s tongue swirled and circled, coaxing a soft moan from her throat, it was Viola’s turn to feel trepidation at the intensity of her body’s response. Never, never had she felt so good, so quickly. She was already throbbing, and as Duke sucked harder at her breasts, the ache between her legs deepened.

She sat up quickly, her nipple sliding from Duke’s mouth with a deliciously wet sound, then moved up Duke’s body until she had positioned her thighs over Duke’s face. Duke’s lips were parted in anticipation, her eyes silently pleading for Viola to take her pleasure.

“You want this?” Viola said, unashamed of her harsh breaths. “Beg me.”

“Oh, please,” Duke said, her tone as fervent as any religious adherent. “Please let me.”

“Let you what?”

“Let me lick you.” Duke’s tongue swiped her lips in mimicry of her words. “Let me suck you. Please.”

Viola looked up to the shadowed ceiling, pretending to consider the request. In actuality, Duke’s pleading had already put her on the edge, and she was struggling against the rising tide of her own desire. But why not surrender? This night was about finally slaking her desire for Duke, and she could do that in any way she wished.

“For a little while,” she said, before finally lowering herself onto Duke’s waiting mouth.

Heat and warmth enveloped her as Duke kissed her intimately, gently fluttering her tongue as her hollowed lips created the most exquisite pleasure. Her senses reeling, Viola couldn’t suppress a sharp cry. She had intended to tease herself and Duke, but her climax already loomed on the horizon.

Viola didn’t want to stop. She didn’t want to lose control, either, but there was no possible way she could pull back now. And she wanted nothing to do with the nagging sensation of guilt that plagued the back of her mind.

She gasped at the vibration of Duke’s lips as she moaned. The knowledge that the folds of her own sex were muffling the sound only sharpened her desire. As she approached the brink, she clutched at the headboard, wrapping her fingers around its top rung. The iron was cool against her heated skin. Duke’s talented mouth increased the suction, and as her tongue flickered with excruciatingly light touches, Viola tipped over the edge.

A flood of pleasure tore through her, almost painful in its intensity, sweeping her reason away.

She clung to the railing as her body convulsed, over and over, driven to new heights of pleasure at the wet sounds of Duke’s lips and tongue on her. Finally, as her climax ebbed, she pulled herself upright, lifting away from Duke’s face to kneel on the bed beside her. Duke’s face glistened with her wetness, her hips thrusting in shallow arcs that Viola was sure were involuntarily. She traced Duke’s mouth with her thumb, then continued down her chin and along the smooth skin of her throat.

“Please,” Duke panted. “Let me have you again.”

When she licked her lips, provocatively savoring the evidence of Viola’s passion, the tide of Viola’s desire, which had never fully ebbed, tugged at her body as though she were a puppet on strings. For one precarious moment, she almost gave in.

But if she gave in, Duke might think her resolve was weakening—that her desire was more than a physical itch. She had scratched half that itch, and now it was time to make good on her promise: to shatter Duke with pleasure and then walk away.

“No,” she said, and pinched Duke’s nearer nipple without warning. When she gasped and arched her back, Viola felt a different kind of pleasure—the power of control, strong and sharp. Duke lay helpless beneath her, and until she spoke her safe word, that was how she would remain.

She covered Duke’s body with her own, burying both hands in her long hair, holding her firmly in place as she plundered her mouth in a bruising kiss. It was a heady thing to taste herself on Duke’s lips. When Duke’s thighs opened even further, she slid one leg between them and rocked down, firmly.

All finesse disappeared from Duke’s kiss as she gasped, and Viola increased the pressure, thrusting in short, sharp bursts that made Duke writhe beneath her. She tightened her grasp on Duke’s hair, tugging intermittently even as she set up a steady rhythm with her thigh. And then, without warning, she pulled her hands away and levered herself up, breaking all contact.

“Oh, please!” Duke’s hands were clenched tightly, presumably to stop herself from reaching for Viola.

“Tell me what you want,” Viola said, wanting Duke to hear the vocalization of her own desires.

“You.” The word was a plea, a prayer. Duke’s eyes were glazed with need, and her mouth glistened. She was utterly intoxicating, and Viola wanted to devour her. She slid down Duke’s body and pushed her legs apart, then ran both thumbs along the soft, tender skin of her inner thighs. When Duke’s hips leapt beneath her touch, she lifted her hands away.

“Don’t move or I’ll stop.”

“Oh!” It was a beautiful sound, an agonized, ecstatic syllable. Duke’s hazy eyes focused only with effort. “I won’t. I promise. Please!”

Viola took her time, first caressing the warm folds of Duke’s sex with her thumbs before pulling them apart to reveal the delicate whorls beneath. Duke’s breaths came as harsh gasps, and when Viola finally touched her tongue to the swollen knot of nerves, Duke cried out. Viola didn’t want her to be quiet. When Duke remembered this night, Viola wanted her to hear the echo of her own needy sounds.

Within seconds, Duke was diamond hard beneath her tongue. Viola kept the pressure light, delivering a series of teasing flicks until Duke cried out, throbbing with release. Viola smiled in triumph, then scratched lightly at Duke’s thighs with her blunt nails.

“Again,” she murmured. This time, she closed her lips around Duke’s clitoris and sucked. Duke gasped her name as she writhed in pleasure, and Viola strengthened her grip on her legs. Increasing the suction, she reintroduced the tip of her tongue. When Duke shuddered violently, Viola stilled, relishing her strangled cry of dismay. She began again, then stopped, over and over and over until Duke was keening in need and even the lightest brush of her tongue pushed her back to the edge.

Without warning, Viola sucked hard, tonguing her swiftly, and clamped down on Duke’s legs as she shattered.

This time, her climax went on and on, wringing her out with its force. Viola exulted in the sensation of Duke’s opening pulsing rhythmically against her chin, and she hummed in satisfaction, setting off another round of contractions. As the tension in Duke’s body began to ease, Viola gentled her mouth but never stopped entirely, coaxing Duke’s clitoris into a renewed state of arousal even as her aftershocks continued.

Viola raised her head gazing along the tawny planes of Duke’s body, admiring the sweat-slicked ridges of her abdomen and the pale slopes of her breasts. “Again.”

“Viola,” Duke gasped. “No. Too sensitive. Can’t.”

“You will,” Viola said, removing her right hand from Duke’s thigh and shifting position enough to bring her fingers into play. She traced the petal-soft contours, pressing firmly then backing off, taking note of all the particularly sensitive places. Finally, she dipped two fingertips just barely inside, glorying in the rush of wetness that greeted her invasion.

“Oh my God,” the words were guttural, strangled, torn from Duke’s raw throat.

Slowly, so slowly, Viola pressed deeper, retreating slightly when she met resistance before pushing more firmly with added momentum. By the time her fingers were as deep as they could go, Duke was breathing harshly, her chest heaving. When Viola curled her fingers up, she groaned. When Viola lowered her head again, Duke’s sharp cry was almost a scream.

Viola kept up a gentle pressure with her lips and tongue and began to thrust, shallowly at first. She curled her fingers on every pass, and as her strokes grew longer and firmer, Duke’s internal muscles began to quiver. When she stilled her movements, and pulled her mouth away, Duke’s sob of frustration was the sweetest sound she’d ever heard.

“Do you like it when I fuck you?”

“Y-es!” Duke’s eyes were bruises, the dark pupils nearly swallowing her robin’s egg irises.

“What if I told you I was going to stop right now and leave you like this?” Viola spoke casually, steadfastly pushing away the pang she felt at her own cruelty.

Duke’s eyes went wide and she shook her head furiously. “No, please. Please don’t leave me.”

Please don’t leave me.

For a moment, the words threatened to overwhelm Viola’s defenses and lay bare the part of her that still cared for Duke, despite everything she had done. But then Duke’s internal walls fluttered around her fingers, and Viola remembered why she was here: to purge her terrible desire in Duke’s embrace. Without another word, she pulled almost all the way out, then thrust hard, sealing her lips around Duke’s clitoris as she did.

Duke’s orgasm gripped her fingers, her inner muscles convulsing rhythmically as Viola continued her deep strokes, drawing out every last ounce of pleasure with hands and tongue.

When Duke’s body stilled, Viola got to her knees without withdrawing. She leaned over Duke, balancing carefully as she traced her mouth with the thumb of her free hand, then dipped inside. Duke’s eyes flashed open at the intrusion, catching and holding Viola’s gaze as she sucked on the fingertip, swirling her tongue and flicking against the sensitive pad. Renewed desire sliced through her keenly, and she pulled away, not wanting to be distracted.

Slowly, Viola began to thrust again, loosening the warm grip of the silken walls that had closed down around her fingers. She brought her moistened thumb to the juncture of Duke’s thighs, rubbing lightly just above her clitoris as she began to stroke more firmly.

“Again,” she whispered.

When Duke bit her lower lip and shook her head, Viola raised her eyebrows, waiting for the word. Until she heard it, she was going to relish the vision of Duke beneath her, surrendering.

Incrementally, Viola increased the pressure of her thumb and the force of her thrusts, until Duke’s clitoris was like a tiny stone and her internal muscles quivered in anticipation of release. Then, finally, Viola brought her over, circling firmly and thrusting hard. Duke’s choked-off scream dissolved into a low moan that finally ended in a ragged gasp.

“Soccer!”

Viola stopped. She rested one palm on Duke’s heaving abdomen and withdrew her fingers slowly, wanting to memorize the image of Duke in this moment: cheeks flushed, hair disheveled, sweat pooling in the hollow of her throat. Her sensuality made Viola ache, but she had to remember that Duke’s beauty was only skin-deep. Forcing herself to push past the unwelcome tenderness, Viola left the bed and began to dress.

“Viola!” Duke struggled to raise herself onto one elbow. “Please.”

She didn’t have to finish the sentence. Viola knew what she meant: please don’t go. But if she stayed, what then? There could be no trust between them beyond the safe word.

If you loved this story you can buy The Princess Deception here.

Nell Stark is an award-winning author of lesbian romance, published by Bold Strokes Books. Her 2010 novel Everafter (with Trinity Tam) won a Golden Crown Literary Society award for paranormal romance. In 2013, The Princess Affair was a Lambda Literary Award finalist. Her most recent novel, The Princess Deception (2018), is the third installment in the Princess Affair series. Nell lives with her wife, son, and dogs a stone’s throw from the Stonewall Inn in NYC.

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