I cannot believe it is the middle of August already! It is absolutely shocking how fast the summer went. And now another Chapter of the Snow White Series is launching in 2 weeks! How the time flies - like a kid on roller skates down a really big hill...
In the spirit of sharing, here's a sneak peek of Snow White and the Seven Thieves: Chapter 3. I hope you enjoy!
*Disclaimer* This book and the rest of the books in this series are intended for adult audiences. 18+ only. Contains erotic content and violence.
One
“I must be delirious,” Snow murmured, so tired and so cold that the words may have just been her chattering teeth against her numb lips. Dark and majestic, watching silently from a branch high in the tree, a crow peered on with obsidian eyes.
Snow White stood, naked and trembling, her body a web of scrapes and bruises, in front of a tree so tall she could scarcely see its top. She craned her head up towards the sky, but the tree was so wide around that it blotted out the rest of the world. Her blurry eyes slid over the twisted knots of bark and vines, catching on edges that were a little too straight and on a glimmer of light that was more firelight than firefly.
Dawn was breaking in the East, but the light had not yet reached her and could not explain the glow that threaded hope between the rough edges of her soul. Nor could it wipe the smell of wood smoke from her nostrils. This clearing with its impossible tree, its flickering light, smelled of her hearth, and though it had been her prison, the only home she had ever known.
With the last of her strength, through the darkest shadows of waning night, her hand reached out and grasped a door handle twisted into the bark. With a jiggle and all of Snow’s weight behind it, the door gave way and opened into a vast room carved into the very centre of the tree.
A fire burned merrily on the stone hearth, and relief flooded Snow as she stumbled across the room towards the flames. Her eyes skipped over seven empty coat hooks, a table set with seven seats, and a half-circle of seven massive chairs facing the fireplace before she collapsed on a giant white fur rug. Holding her hands towards the cheery glow, Snow felt the warmth creep into her fingers, flood into her palms, and rush up her arms.
Sighing with pleasure, she crouched closer to the heat, holding her feet towards the glowing hearth.
When the fire burned low, she glanced around and dragged two more large logs from the woodpile, tipping them into the bank of flames and smiling as the fire licked the wood, engulfing her in heat.
Slowly, the icy numbness in her limbs sparked and pricked with pins and needles as the blood rushed back through her skin.
For what felt like hours, she sat inches from the flames, scooching closer and closer till ash and soot smudged across her scrapes and bruises. More than once, in her eagerness, Snow reached too close and singed her fingers on the fire.
At last, as the first rays of dawn turned the light in the room purple, her body was warm and soft with exhaustion. Snow pulled back from the fire and curled into the overstuffed chair closest to the hearth. Tugging a woolen blanket from the chair’s back over her naked, battered, and filthy body, Snow slipped into a deep, dreamless sleep.
Two
The Queen set her fork aside and wiped the last of the gravy from her plate with one long delicate finger. “Such a tasty morsel,” the Queen sighed around her finger. “Compliments to the chef, and our Huntsman, of course, for his unerring ability to capture only the finest, sweetest flesh.”
Her gaze locked on the Huntsman who stood just outside the door to the dining hall, she let her eyes roll back in ecstasy as the last of her dear, departed stepdaughter’s lungs and liver slipped down her throat and sat peacefully in her stomach.
“At last,” the Queen moaned. With patience born of knowing she finally had everything she wanted, the regal woman [2] pushed her fall of blond curls over her shoulder, allowed Tripp, her valet, to pull out her chair, and lifted her wine-filled goblet from the table. Humming, she sauntered out of the room, her hips swaying with satisfaction as the servants scuttled in from the shadows to clear her plate.
Pausing at the doorway, she shot a heated look over her shoulder, catching Tripp staring after her with lust in his eyes.
"Tripp," the Queen's voice was hot and low. “Join me in my chambers. We have much business to discuss.”
Tripp stumbled over his boots in his eagerness to follow the Queen to her chambers. By the time he crossed her threshold and was closing the door behind them, the Queen stood in the middle of the room and watched him in the reflection of a large round mirror.
“Your majesty,” Tripp bowed low, his gaze locked on his Queen.
“Come to me,” the Queen’s voice rolled low and warm across the room. Tripp rushed forward, stopping behind her, his breath hitching behind his pounding heart. “I am in need of your services. It has been a very successful day, and I wish to celebrate it.”
Tripp bowed his head. “Of course, your majesty. And how would you like me to arrange a celebration? A ball perhaps? Or a lavish party?”
The Queen’s smile turned Tripp’s insides to mush. “I want you to lift my skirts and fuck me like the lowly creature you are until I am satisfied.”
Tripp’s mouth fell open, and his voice failed him. His mouth became as dry as ash.
“Do you feel like that is something you can manage? Must I instruct you every step of the way?” A shadow crossed the Queen’s radiant face, and her mouth turned down in boredom.
Tripp shook his head and fought to recover himself. “N-no, your majesty. I mean— yes, your grace. I can manage that. You do not need to instruct me…” He stepped closer, so his boots nudged the hem of her wide skirt, then he hesitated. His hands shook with desire he had long denied, forcing it down when the king lived, and letting it simmer all the years since. The Queen had teased and tormented him in her cold-hearted way for years, as she carelessly carved her way through the staff — male and female alike. Tripp had seen many sturdy servants leave the Queen’s chambers at any hour of the night, exhausted and disheveled, but had never dared dream that he would join the ranks of her lovers.
The Queen sighed in frustration, propping her hands on her hips, her golden gaze frosty when it met his in the mirror. “If I had wanted an uncertain virgin, I would have plucked a stable boy from his duty. If you cannot act on the heat I see in your gaze, then leave me to my fingers.”
Tripp gritted his teeth and let go of his control. Both hands gripped the Queen’s wide skirts and lifted them sharply. The layers of crinolines and underskirts folded in his hands until they were bunched between their bodies, and the Queen’s luscious ass with her golden skin came into view. With an animal groan, he stepped in against her, cupping the twin globes with hot hands and squeezing her roughly.
The Queen sighed. “Better, but I asked for a fuck, not a chaste mauling.”
Trip bit back a curse and lunged forward, pressing the rock-hard bulge in his trousers against the crack of her ass. He wrapped one arm around her ribs and grabbed at her bodice with the other. A snarl broke from his mouth as he tore the fabric aside, pushed the Queen’s corset out of the way and palmed the gilded weight of her breast. Sliding his thumb over her nipple, he thrilled when it tightened beneath his touch.
“I have wanted inside you since the first night you came to the castle,” he growled against her throat. “Not a day has passed that I have not imagined my cock locked inside your sweet pussy.”
The Queen smiled serenely, her face luminous in the mirror. “And yet I have handed you the opportunity on a platter, and still you hesitate. Must I draw you a map?”
Tripp bit down on her neck, the fingers on her breast clamping down tighter, his other hand shoving her skirts aside and slipping between her legs. Her slick folds were swollen and so wet he nearly lost control as his fingers slid inside her. The Queen groaned, her eyelids fluttering as she pressed back into his hands.
“Is that what you want, your majesty?” Tripp growled as he slid a second finger inside her wet lips, then followed it with a third, relishing in how her inner muscles clamped down upon him.
“You fuck like your cock doesn’t work,” the Queen let out a strangled gasp as Tripp slid his fingers free, untied the laces of his breeches, and slammed his cock inside her hot depths. “Yesssss—” the Queen hissed as Tripp tipped her forward, planting her hands on a table before the mirror and finally took control.
She could see the glint of anger blending with lust in his eyes and reveled in it. He was such fun to torment. His wide hands grabbed her hips and yanked her back against him repeatedly. Her ass pounded his thighs, his cock driving deep and hard.
The Queen moaned and slipped a hand into the bodice of her gown, pulling her breasts free and running her fingers over the smooth skin as he pushed her higher. Her vision narrowed as he increased his rhythm, darkening around the edges until all she could see was her reflection. Her shining hair coming loose from its pins and sliding over her shoulders like a fall of gold coins; her breasts bouncing with each lunge. Her stunning face, lashes lowered, cheeks glowing pink, mouth soft and swollen.
“I am so beautiful,” the Queen cried out, her inner muscles clamping down hard on Tripp’s thrusting cock as she came, hard and fast, her breath crushing from her chest, her legs buckling as the pleasure broke through her like a shot.
Tripp yanked her slumping body harder against him, shoving her across the table so he could maintain his leverage. With one last volley of hard fast strokes, he came with a roar, and pulled back before he collapsed upon his Queen.
Continued in Snow White and the Seven Thieves: Chapter 3 - coming August 31st, 2021
With Love,
Regina Grimm is the author of erotic fairytales, written for the uninhibited readers 18+.
Check out her books:
Snow White and the Wicked Curse: Chapter 1 and
Snow White and the Seven Thieves: Chapter 3 coming soon!