Vixen and the Pea Read online

  Evernight Publishing

  www.evernightpublishing.com

  Copyright© 2012 Lila Shaw

  ISBN: 978-1-77130-062-9

  Cover Artist: Jinger Heaston

  Editor: Karyn White

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  DEDICATION

  To the Sisterhood of the Travelling Pens: You ladies rock!

  VIXEN AND THE PEA

  Naughty Fairy Tales

  Lila Shaw

  Copyright © 2012

  Chapter One

  Once upon a time, in a kingdom with far more women than men, there lived a prince named Koldo.Prince Koldohad come of an age most suitable for assuming the throne from his father, King Elazar. The King had ruled for nearly three decades and yearned for a simpler life with naught to do but tie flies and fish in the crystal waters of Basqueland.

  “I really don’t understand why I must marry. I am not ready to settle upon one female, not when there are so many flowers in the kingdom begging to be pollinated.”

  King Elazar rolled his kingly eyes and sighed. “Son, our armies are weak following the devastation suffered at Keighly Rock. Procreation before recreation. You’ve had plenty of time for the latter, and now ‘tis time for the former. You’re six and twenty! I had you and four of your seven sisters by the time I was your age! As the heir, you must set the example and be a wise and noble ruler. No more casual sex!”

  Koldo’s head dropped forward. He had always known this day would come. But understanding what lay in his future and having that future thrust upon him were two entirely different matters. He lifted his head and shot a sidelong gaze at his father. “Six more months?”

  “No! I’ve already given you an extra two years. Son, it’s not so bad, being with one woman. Truly. All you need do is find one as worthy as your mother. In a kingdom with so many maidens, it should not be difficult.”

  Koldo snorted. “Maidens? Only if they are still in their nappies and at the teat. With five females for every four males, most women are so desperate for a man, fucking is practically an audition!”

  King Elazar slammed his palm against his desk. “Hush! I’ll not have that kind of talk. Perhaps you need to elevate your sights and rub elbows with the nobler denizens of the kingdom.” Elazar stood and trod with purpose to the door. “I am holding a ball in a fortnight. All the noblewomen from this kingdom and our neighbors to the north, south, east and west have been invited. You will name your bride before the ball ends, or your mother and I will choose one for you!”

  Elazar strode out the door, thus ending any further opportunity for protest. Prince Koldo dropped into a faded brocade chair. There must be some way to defer his shackling. Unlike his father, he doubted nobility guaranteed any semblance of virginity. He knew from the horses’ mouths that none of his sisters still retained her factory seal.

  Koldo tapped his chin with his index finger. How might he escape matrimony or at least defer it? It ought not be too difficult if he demanded a virgin, but then he might be left with none but the homely, the foolish or, most frightening, the dragon-breathed. He had no tolerance for poor dental hygiene.

  He sat at his father’s desk and snatched up a blank sheet of foolscap and a quill. He’d itemize his requirements. Perhaps if they were too onerous, no woman would meet them.

  “She must have all her teeth, first and foremost!” he exclaimed aloud as he scribbled his non-negotiable requirement.

  “She must possess an intelligence capable of engaging and surpassing the highest sages in the land.” Koldo smiled as he scratched down his second requirement. His grin fell however, as he recalled Lady Otsana, an annoying female with a mind designed to challenge in the most quarrelsome manner.

  He shrugged and continued writing. “She must be of sound health and constitution.” He would receive no objections to that requirement but did not dare take any chances at being besieged by the bedridden, the emaciated, and the morbidly obese due to a loophole.

  Frowning, he realized he still hadn’t eliminated Lady Otsana. What more stringent requirements could he enact?

  Koldo tapped his chin in thought. What did the Lady Otsana either possess that she should not or lack, which she should possess?

  He conjured a visual of the lady in question – tall, yet not so tall he could rule her out for a stature exceeding his own. Koldo towered above most men at six feet plus. The lady and her father were Grand Masters of the Socratic Overseers Society. Otsana had been the youngest inductee to date. What was not to like about her on those counts?

  “Everything! I do detest the woman, yet I cannot pinpoint why.” As far as Koldo knew, the lady was a virgin, if only because she terrified most men of the realm and sported her disdain for the male sex at every opportunity.

  Perhaps if he knew what color and length her tresses were he might design a requirement to exclude. The lady always wore her hair covered and multiple veils across her nose and mouth, as was the custom for all maidens of the land. They also kept their figures, including arms and legs, fully concealed in vast tent-like garments, as if the slightest glimpse of any hair or skin would sully their virtue. Many a noble had been duped into marrying a beautiful pair of eyes only to discover its hideous bedrocks on his wedding night. Only the commoners revealed their faces in public, and only the whores left their hair exposed as well. Otsana’s coloring suggested raven tresses, and indeed that was the safest bet being the most popular shade in Basqueland. A fiery redhead might be a safe choice, but he preferred a dusky brunette.

  However, Otsana did not worry him nearly so much as her meddling mother. That lady would certainly thrust her foul-tempered daughter upon him, and worse, his parents would force the match if he chose no other.

  What if he devised a barrier to not only keep Otsana out of the running, but all other females, too? What sort of requirement could he insist upon to exclude all, but if it failed would at least secure him a decent consolation prize?

  He reached a hand down to scratch his balls. Fingers found another part of him all too quick to spring to attention at the merest hint of entrance into a tight, feminine place weeping with desire. His member roused to his thoughts, and he took himself in hand, the thick hard length of his shaft hot and twitchy. Perhaps his alter-ego, Bero, would need to make a visit to the neighboring kingdom that evening. The Gastonia and Basqueland border lay ten kilometers from the castle, far enough to reduce the odds of being recognized, but close enough to permit short trips to and fro.

  “Koldo! Koldo!”

  The shrill tones of his mother’s voice chiseled their way into this brain. He yanked his hand from his breeches and mouthed a silent oath.

  “There you are! Good news! Everyone accepted our ball invitation, including Lady Otsana Tixier. Such a lovely girl. You could do a lot worse.”

  “I could do a lot better, too,” Koldo said under his breath. In a much louder voice he added, “Otsana is not for me. Besides, she doesn’t like me, nor I her.” His erection tamed and his breeches secured, he rose to give his mother a kiss on the cheek.

  Queen Annetta laid a hand on his arm. “Where are you off to?”

  “I have some business to attend to in the village.”

  She cocked a satirical brow and pursed her lips. “What sort of business?”

  “Uh…one of our tenants got himself in
a bit of a mess with the smithy. I’ve agreed to mediate. Nothing of significance other than I must now make haste if I am to arrive on time.” Koldo lifted her hand from his arm, gave it a light buss, and moved toward the door.

  He didn’t turn to see her reaction, but her sigh escorted him out.

  ****

  Koldo-cum-Bero unbuttoned the top fastening of his dirty white shirt, shifting it askew on his shoulders before trudging toward the inn and drinking establishment. The town was in full celebration mode since the news of his ascension to the throne and pending engagement had been announced. He sneered at a sign over the pub proclaiming, “Long Live King Elazar! Long Live Prince Koldo!” Sometimes the princely trappings of his rightful station came a distant second to the freedom he enjoyed as Bero, humble groom from the neighboring kingdom of Estancia.

  Inside the darkened hovel that served the best ale and had the prettiest wenches, he raised a hand to gain the server’s attention.

  “An ale for ye, sir?” a portly man of about his own age asked him.

  “Aye, a tankard, please.”

  His drink in hand, he perused the crowd to see which of his favored mares were working. A sultry brunette in the corner caught his eye. Had he ever ridden the lass before? He strolled in her direction for a better look, and as he approached their gazes locked.

  The cheeky wench raised a brow and dropped her chin ever so slightly. A new game was afoot. He raised his drink in salute. She licked her lips. He closed the gap and sat across from her at her table.

  “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure, Miss…”

  “You’ve most definitely not, or you’d have remembered.” The lady’s eyes flashed with … amusement? Annoyance?

  Koldo pushed his lips out in contemplation and raked his eyes up and down the woman, lingering at the creamy flesh straining the front of her dress, and nearly overflowing its lowered neckline. A rough cotton cloth covered her arms, but her shoulders escaped their confines, that same smooth flesh inciting an urge to taste and sample its porcelain-like texture. Her waist nipped in before flaring out into the gathering of a full skirt. He wondered what treasures lay beneath, and more importantly, how long before he would sample them.

  “Aye, most right you are, my lady.”

  The lady’s eyes made a leisurely perusal of their own, lingering at the V of his neckline before resting on the mouth he curled into a sly grin. “What is your name, sir?”

  “I am Bero Zabala of Estancia.” Zabala ranked amongst the more common surnames in Gastonia and Estancia. She’d infer naught from his fabrication.

  “Bero Zabala?” She angled her head and narrowed her eyes before issuing a soft snort. “You don’t look like a Bero Zabala.”

  Koldo’s eyebrows shot up. “I don’t?” He smiled, confident she had no idea he was the Prince of Basqueland and was merely flirting to increase her desirability and price. He would play along. “Ah. You see through my attempted deception. Pray tell then. With what name would have me branded?”

  “Branded? An odd choice of words, sir. I suspect you wear no brand but one of your own choosing.” She pressed her lips together. “Though I might divine your name if I chose, I will accept that which you share, whether it be truth or falsehood.”

  Koldo chuckled. She was a sassy one with her lush red mouth and lips that would appear at their finest when wrapped around his cock. “And how might I address you, my lady? Shall I be bolder than you and venture a guess?”

  The woman leaned forward, resting her magnificent bosom upon the surface of the table and stared him in the eye. “If you like.”

  “You, my lady, would be known by a name worthy of your beauty, one such as Rosalita.” Koldo grinned and scooted his chair closer to the table, close enough to draw in a deep breath of her scent. No alcohol tainted her, but instead a fresh floral aroma akin to lilacs clung to her skin and hair.

  “An excellent guess. You are close but not correct. Fleur is my name. Perhaps I will be bold as well and guess your true name now?” A flicker of naughtiness passed over her brow.

  “Fleur? It suits. But mine, you would never guess.” His hand slid closer to hers where it rested upon the table.

  “I think you’d be surprised at my divining talents, sir.” She flicked her gaze down at his encroaching hand, but did not withdraw her own.

  “Confident vixen, aren’t you?” Bero reached out and stroked a fingertip along the smooth skin between her thumb and index finger. “Shall I propose a wager then?”

  “What have you in mind?” She licked her lips and focused her attention on his mouth. Oh, so she thinks she can tease my bishop with her queen, does she?

  Koldo leaned forward as well, covering her hand with his much larger one. “If you’re wrong, I’ll have you in my bed until the cock crows.”

  A dark brow lifted almost imperceptibly as her gaze traveled along his clothing, down the length of his arms to his fingers and landed upon the ring he’d forgotten to remove. Her eyes returned to his. “And if I’m right?”

  With a start he realized his mistake but took comfort in knowing it would not betray his status as Prince of Basqueland, only his wealth.

  She reached out and touched his ring finger. The contact of skin upon skin was but a graze, but desire smoked through his veins and flooded every inch of his body before delivering a swift kick tohis groin.

  “Would you be willing to part with this ring?” Fleur’s husky voice rang far too confidently in his ears.

  He coughed to get hold of himself. She couldn’t know him. He’d never seen her before, and he’d never had another soul so much as comment on Bero’s likeness to Prince Koldo, even within his own kingdom. Surely his identity was as safe as her pussy was sweet for plundering. The gamble was a safe one, because even if he lost his ring, he’d finagle her into his bed, one way or another. That was a bet with himself he rarely lost. “I accept your wager, as unfair as it is.”

  “Unfair, sir? How so?”

  “My skills in the bedroom are superlative, worthy of three of my rings. Your loss would bring you far greater pleasure than your win.” He lowered his voice to a near whisper and raised her hand to his lips for a light kiss, peering up at her through his lashes. “For lose you surely will.”

  Fleur snickered. “My, but you have a high opinion of yourself, don’t you?” She smirked. “My charms are worth ten of your ring. Our wager is unbalanced in our own minds at least, but perhaps our egos cancel each other out.” Eyelashes fluttered at him in mockery.

  Fleur tapped her chin with her finger like he often did, and closed her eyes as if in deep concentration. A soft moan heralded the opening of hazel eyes that lazily perused his face. Her pale skin catapulted his imagination deeper into erotic territory as did the raven tresses lying in loose ringlets over her shoulders. One impudent lock had fallen into her cleavage, and he longed to pluck out the intruder.

  “Well then, do get on with it. We’re wasting good swiving time,” he said, glancing at the latest patrons to enter the tavern. The faster he claimed her, the better; his rivals were already circling.

  Chapter Two

  Fleur sat back in her seat and drummed her fingers on the tabletop. She couldn’t believe such an opportunity to take down the pompous Prince Koldo had fallen into her lap. All she’d been after that evening was a lusty fuck in a hotel room with a man able to go the distance, preferably a total stranger she’d never meet again. Such was the life of a woman who swore she would never marry into domestic slavery. The only problem was the societal mores that forced her to slake her ravenous carnal appetites on the sly. While a husband might have his advantages in the bedroom, the cost was too high, not when she had only to travel a few kilometers to harvest all the cock she wanted. She had only to pretend to nurse a great aunt who lay in a coma to secure her escape from Basqueland. Her aunt’s servants kept no accounting of her comings and goings. Lucrative gifts of silverware and extra food rations bought their ignorance.

  The question w
as: which did she want more? The princely cock or the royal ring? Perhaps she might have both before returning home. If she gave his true name, he might bolt, fearing her betrayal of his identity. On the other hand, a second wager of some sort later on could win her the ring. Yes. Fuck first, ring later. The Prince’s ring might serve as insurance should she ever find herself in need of some powers of persuasion later on, if matters got nasty.

  Fleur opened her eyes. “Your name is…” she tapped her chin, “Rexkoldo.”

  Koldo widened his eyes briefly before he began to laugh. “Rexkoldo? I’ve never heard of such a name.”

  “Surely you have from your own mother, methinks.” Fleur winked at Koldo and raised her chin, taking a deep breath to strain her breasts against the front of her dress. Her pussy grew damp just watching Koldo’s barely suppressed glee at having won their bet. Her eyes traced a languorous path from his eyes to the flare of his nostrils to the mustache and beard framing a sensuous mouth. From there, she traveled along the slope from neck to shoulder where his shirt sat askew on a broad muscular frame. Lust drew back its boot and kicked her squarely in the gut. An ache began to throb between her legs. Visions of Koldo’s cock ramming into her to the accompaniment of their grunts and groans of pleasure sent a wave of wetness to join the throbbing. Time to collect, no pay, her debt.

  “Was that not correct?” she asked with a saucy toss of her curls over her shoulder.

  Koldo pursed his lips and slowly shook his head. “No my lady, my name is most certainly not Rexkoldo.”

  “Prove it!” Fleur suppressed her smile.

  ****

  Koldo frowned and kicked back in his chair, his arms crossed. “For a moment, you sounded exactly like a harridan I know from my homeland. Argumentative and quarrelsome, always demanding proof of her errors but never offering similar assurances to support her challenges.”