Her sex would not stop its throbbing. It was sticky with its own wetness. Poor Princess Lizetta in the Hall of Punishments, did she suffer worse than this? At least she was not alone in the darkness, and suddenly even those who must pass her, taunting her, teasing her, stroking her swelling sex, seemed to Beauty a desirable company. She strained and twisted her hips. It was no comfort to her, and she did not understand why she felt this craving when only a little while ago her pain had been so great she had kissed Lady Juliana's slippers. She flushed to think of Lady Juliana's angry words, those reproving spanks that somehow hurt her worse than the others.

And how the Pages must have laughed when a dozen Princess had probably played the little gathering game with the roses and done it better.

But why, why had Beauty at the very end picked up that last rosebud, and why had she felt her br**sts swollen with warmth when Lady Juliana took it from her lips? It had seemed in that moment that Beauty's ni**les were cruel little caps that prevented pleasure from breaking loose in her. Strange thought. They seemed too tight for her then, her ni**les, and her sex gaped and hungered and the moisture trickled down the inside of her thighs, and when she thought of Prince Alexi's smile, and Lady Juliana's brown eye, and the Prince's beautiful face, and even the Queen, yes, even the Queen's red lips, she felt herself burning in agony.

Prince Alexi's sex was thick and dark, like all of him, and his ni**les a dark, dark rose color.

She tossed her head, rolled it against the wall. But why had she picked up the rose, offered it to pretty Lady Juliana?

She stared forward in the darkness, and hearing a creaking sound very near to her, she thought she was imagining it.

But in the darkness of the near wall, a seam of light appeared and widened. The door had been opened, and Prince Alexi slipped into the dressing room. Unbound, free, he was standing before her, and very gently, he pushed the door closed behind him.

Beauty held her breath.

He did not move, as if he must accustom himself to the darkness, and then immediately he came forward and released Beauty's wrists and ankles.

She stood trembling. And then her arms were about him. He held her against his chest, his stiff organ prodding her thighs, and she felt the silken skin of his face, and then his mouth opened over hers, hard, yes, savoring her.

"Beauty," he gave a deep sigh and she knew he was smiling. Her hand went up to feel his eyelashes. In the light of the moon she saw the planes of his face, his white teeth. She touched him all over hungrily, desperately. And then she descended upon him with loud kisses.

"Wait, wait, my lovely one, I am as anxious as you are," he whispered. But she couldn't keep her hands off his shoulders, his neck, his satin flesh.

"Come with me," he said and though it seemed an effort to disengage himself, he opened another door and took her down a long, low-roofed passage.

The moon entered windows that were no more than narrow slices out of the wall, and then he paused before one of many heavy doors, and she found herself descending a twisting stairway.

Beauty grew afraid.

"But where are we going? We'll be caught, and what will happen to us?" she whispered.

But he had opened a door and led her into a little chamber.

One little square of window gave them light, and Beauty saw a heavy straw bed covered with a white blanket. A servant's robe hung upon a hook, but all was neglected as if the room had long ago been forgotten.

Alexi bolted the door. No one could possibly open it.

"I thought you meant to escape," Beauty sighed with relief. "But will they find us here?"

Alexi was looking at her, the moon full on his face and his eyes that were filled with that strange serenity.

"The Queen sleeps every night of her life until the break of day. Felix has been dismissed. If I'm at the foot of her bed at dawn, we won't be discovered. But there is always the chance, and then we shall be punished."

"O, I don't care, I don't care." Beauty said frantically.

"Neither do I," he started to say, but his mouth was buried in Beauty's neck as Beauty flung her arms about him.

At once they were on the straw bed, against the soft blanket. Beauty's bu**ocks felt the prickles of the straw, but they meant nothing to her so much as Alexi's wet, hard kisses. She pressed her br**sts to his chest, she wrapped her legs about his hips and strained against him.

All the long night's teasing and tormenting of her was maddening her. And then he drove into her that thick sex she had desired from the first instant she had seen it. His thrusts were brutal, strong, as if he too were overcome with denied passion. Her aching sex was filled, her tight ni**les throbbing, and she snapped her hips, lifting him as she had lifted the Prince, feeling him fill her, pinion her.

At last she rose up crying out in her relief, and she felt him come with a last driving motion. Hot fluids filled her, and she lay back gasping.

She lay against his chest. He cradled her, rocked her, never stopped kissing her.

And when she sucked his ni**les, bit at them playfully with her teeth, he was hard again and pushing against her.

He rose to his knees and lifted her down on his organ. She whispered her assent and then he moved her back and forth, jabbing her, working her. She had her head thrown back, her teeth clenched. "Alexi, my Prince!" she cried. And again her wet sex, stretched wide over him, throbbed in a frenzied rhythm until she was all but screaming with release as again he filled her.

It was not until after a third time that they lay still.

Yet she bit at his ni**les, her hands feeling his scrotum, his penis. He rested on his elbow and smiled down at her, and let her do as she wished, even when her fingers probed his anus. She had never felt a man in this manner before. She sat up, and made him roll on his face, and then she examined all of him.

And then, overcome with shyness, she lay beside him again, nestled into his arms and buried her head in his warm, sweet smelling hair, and welcomed his gentle, deep, affectionate kisses. His lips played with hers. He whispered her name in her ear, and laying his hand between her legs sealed her tight with his palm as he clung to her.

"We must not fall asleep," he said. "I fear that for you the punishment might be too terrible."

"And not for you?" she asked.

He appeared to reflect, and then he smiled. "Probably not," he answered. "But you are a fledgling."

"And do I do so badly?" she asked.

"You are incomparable in all things," he said. "Don't let your cruel masters and mistresses deceive you. They are in love with you."