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The Dark King's Curse

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The Dark King shot up from his bed, his dark blue eyes searching frantically around him.

It worked! The Dark Curse - it worked!

He pushed aside the soft fleece white bedding and went to the window. He drew the curtains back. A victorious grin broke out at the unfamiliar landscape and architecture.

It worked! He'd finally won!

A slight sound of confusion brought him back to the present. It came from behind him, from the bed. He spun around quickly.

A head of dark locks. His grin broadened. Her. She was laying there. Right there! In his bed, under his sheets.

He had no control over how wide his smile became. "Regina," he breathed, grinning.

She moved under the covers, mumbling sleepily as she sat up. She squinted her eyes as she looked at him. "Babe?" she yawned.

Babe? He looked at her strangely. An odd term, he thought.

"What time is it? Why are you awake?" she asked, looking at a peculiar black box on the bedside table.

An alarm clock, it came to him suddenly.

“Oh god,” she groaned, looking at the red numbers. “That’s too early.”

He tried to reign in his excitement, to bite down his smile. But at her voice, it grew again. It was different here, light and soft, golden like honey instead of low, gravely and velvety, dark as sin. She ran a hand through her hair and he noticed it was different too - shorter and messier.

She frowned. “Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Like what?" 

"Like you haven't seen..." She yawned. 

"Any a sight lovelier?" He supplied. David walked closer and knelt at her side. "You, my love," he murmured, "are beautiful."

He reached up to cup her cheek. She leaned into his touch. David grinned. A thief had no right to a Queen, he thought smugly. This woman was meant for a King.

"Compliments so early?" She chuckled.

She shook her head and leaned forward. She kissed him and this, he thought, humming into her mouth, this is what our first kiss should have been like.

Not that hard forceful peck he had to steal on her wedding day. He had to restrain her with magic in the hoodlum's fortress just to see her. The thief had shot a warning arrow near his head, David recalled, before aiming one at his heart. He disappeared in a puff of dark grey smoke to his castle. But the arrow had followed him home and pierced itself into the door of his bedchambers. He remembered, with a scowl, the hole in the door.

His lips turned hard against hers. He held her face firmer and teased her lips apart. His tongue explored her mouth thoroughly, danced with hers, until he had her moaning into him.

No resistance, he thought in glee.

She brought one hand up to the side of his face and pulled back to rest her forehead against his. She was breathless.

"If your plan was to wake me up early just to have your way with me-"

"Yes," he answered, instantly excited by the idea of defiling Robin's precious gem, of taking her sweet body and making it his.

She laughed when he flipped her onto her back. He looked down at her, held her arms to her sides and leaned down again. This kiss was longer, and by the end of it she was purring and leaning up to kiss him again.

"You know what..."

Her voice sounded more like remembered it, a low and seductive drawl. More like the threats she hissed at him, more like the way she'd once whispered promises of a painful death against his lips when he'd shackled her to a bed post. The memory made him hard.

"I can live with it."

Her face was covered with a sheen of sweat, her body as well. She was frustrated. He could see it in the way her brows pulled together, the way her eyes screwed shut and how her mouth parted. Her breathing turned to harsh and sudden gasps.

Her hips rolled against his, working in fast circles as she grinded herself against him. His hips jerked upward instinctively, thrusting him deeper into her. He moved his hands from her waist to her ass, spreading her wider.

"Yes," she hissed, some of that frustration going away. "Like that."

She put both her hands on his shoulders, using them to take more of him, to meet him thrust for thrust. Her head lowered. Her mouth at his ear. Her voice turned into a whine.

"I need more. I need more. David," she pleaded, "More. Please, please more. Harder."

He felt his softening cock harden at that. He'd come a few minutes ago but she was still struggling. Every time she got close to an orgasm, her body denied her release. She'd tried to make him stop earlier, too worked up to continue, but he kept going.

He refused to give up. He needed her to want him, to lust for him, to desire him as he did her. She was his prize and he would be damned if he didn't know how to polish her.


Her nails dug into his shoulder, hard enough to draw blood. He hissed in pain, considered pushing her off and just ending this entire mess then. Learn to polish her. Learn to polish the prize. She would serve no purpose to him if she was unkept in this affair, if she was unsatisfied.

He pulled her nearer. Her knees pressed firmer into the mattress on either sides of his thighs. He gripped her hips harder and pulled her down fast.

"Oh," her voice broke. "Yes, yes, yes. Like that." She was unraveling now, urging him, "Yes! Yes. Baby, yes."

He was rock hard inside her again, not sure if he'd last long enough to see her orgasm with the sounds she was making, desperate and pleading, openly begging him.


Fuck. His self-control was slipping. She made him come far too easily. He couldn't last long with her, the way she moved, her voice, the way she touched him, moaned for him, reacted to him. The effect she had on him was maddening. He smacked her ass.

She tensed momentarily then chuckled. He laughed under his breath and traced open mouth kisses from the side of her face to her lips. Their kisses were clumsy and she pulled away, clearly uninterested in them. He took her previous reaction as permission and started groping her.

She threw her head back in a guttural sigh and his attention was immediately brought to her breasts.

"Gorgeous," he praised.

David licked his dry lips and took one breast into his mouth, sucking on her nipple. She gripped the back of his head and pushed his mouth down further.


He obeyed by pressing her nipple to the roof of his mouth and massaging it with his tongue. He released it slowly then gave it an experimental nip. She squeaked. His laugh was a murmur against her breast. He dragged his tongue across her teasingly, fingers clenching her sides roughly, and was rewarded with a low whimper.

He looked down, her breast forgotten at the sight that greeted him. He was fucking her. He was fucking her. The Queen. Regina. He was fucking her. She gripped his shoulders harder. He tilted his hips higher and bit her earlobe.

"I want you to come for me."

She made a strangled sound. Her breath was wild and fast in his ear. He pulled her thighs higher, sitting up a bit to meet her at a new and harsher angle. Her back arched into him, hips grounding against him now in desperate and eradic circles, her walls clenching around him.

"Shit." He nearly came then. "Are you close?"

He didn't think he could hold out much longer. She nodded, eyes still screwed shut.

"David," she whined, almost crying. "David."

His dick felt like it was going to explode. Her nails dug into his forearms. He held himself back to watch her. Sweat glistened on her skin in a light sheen. She looked phenomenonal, perfect, the embodiment of lust. His throat turned to sand when she swallowed. His eyes trailed hungrily over her flesh and how it moved. He wondered what it would be like to take her like that, to feel that perfect mouth around him, sucking on him. He'd been in this new world for seven entire days and still hadn't had that mouth, those perfect two lips wrapped around his cock. He truly hadn't taken advantage of  this world's culture around the act. 

David quickly pushed her head up and sucked on her pulse point to distract himself. Please her first, he told himself. Polish the prize.

He continued kissing her neck. He eased away from marking her. There was no need in this world, no need when she wore his ring on her hand instead of the thief's. She was his. She was his.

Even so he couldn't resist the temptation of a lovely purple bruise on her throat. He pulled back and admired his handiwork. More. He wanted to plant more, to have so many her entire neck would be covered. Mine! He leaned in again, mouth attached just under that first marking. Mine.

If they were in their world she'd have to wear collars to hide it from the court. Here She'd just pulled on that red garment, a poloneck or turtleneck or whatever it was called, and he'd threatened to rip it off her. Something that seemed to arouse rather than frighten her in this world. She'd responded with a seductive, "Prove it." And he'd ended up bending her over the nearest desk. 

That memory, combined with her voice, were not helping. Her cries were frustrated, her voice whiny and gods help him, he was not going to last any longer.

Why wouldn't she come? Was her body that repulsed by him? No, she didn't know. Then why wasn't she-

She came hard, head thrown backward, a deep cry on her lips. He felt it on his lips and came moments later.

They slid down the bed, exhausted. His hips were still jerking up into her as she came on top of him. Her body was writhing in pleasure. Delicious sounds fell from her still parted lips. Lips he leaned up to kiss. It was open-mouthed and lazy, sloppy and too wet. When he pulled back her head fell limp to his chest. He ran his hands up her thighs to her hips, feeling the rounded curve of her ass, before he held her hips.

She was still panting on top of him. He ran a hand through her hair, tilting her head so that their eyes met.

"Are you okay?" he asked, breathless and worried.

He felt her pulse under his thumb, concern doubling. Her heart was beating so, so, fast.

She swallowed and nodded, still struggling to get her breathing under control. "Yes," she answered, voice raspy.

He took a breath, forcing all thoughts of sex and arousal away. She moved off of him.

This first week was horrible for them - it took far longer for her to come than him. He'd come two to four times before she finally managed one. It was frustrating. And that made it unenjoyable for her. Which made it unenjoyable for him.

He always planned to even the score, but by the end of her first orgasm they were both too tired and frustrated and usually ended up on opposite sides of the bed, laying away from each other.

She made to do that now.

"No," he said quickly. "No."

He grabbed her hips. She startled. He rolled over and placed his hands on either side of her body. He leaned up so that he could look down on her, so that he could look down at her breathless face, the messy hair and dark eyes with make-up smudged around the corners. Her lips were slightly swollen. He leaned down to kiss them again and moaned into her mouth as her tongue swirled over his.

Robin was right, David thought, she truly is a phenomenal kisser.

"David," she sighed between their lips.

It sounded like "good night."

He pulled back. "No."

He shook his head and kissed her again. She deserved better than this. He could do better than this. She was his. He was worthy of her. He won her. And he could keep her. She was his prize. 

He moved his kisses lower. He trailed them over her jaw and chin before turning his focus to her neck, not stopping his nips and bites until he heard that delicious throaty moan she did for the outlaw.

When his mouth made it to her breasts, he used his hands to spread her legs wide. He held one in place with his knee and the other with his hand. Using his free hand, he circled a finger at her entrance, groaning at how soaked she was. He pulled back and looked at her.

Immediately she reached for him, hands clutching at the back of neck to bring him closer. She kissed him again. He had to force himself into his task, not to get caught up in the way she made his head spin, in the thrill her touch gave him.

He pulled back to kiss her stomach, his fingers still trailing over and teasing her sensitivity. She raked her nails over his scalp and gasped as he allowed only the tip of a finger inside.

"Stop teasing," she demanded, grip on his hair tightening. 

He hissed at the feeling and glanced up. Her eyes were dark, filled with lust and impatience, and melted any desire to scold her for pulling his hair. She'd already scarred him with her nails on his shoulders. Tugging at his hair seemed a petty thing to complain of now.

She looked him dead in the eye. "Fuck me. Now."

Soulmates be damned, he thought smugly. He withdrew his hand complete and made a show of licking his index finger off. She made that face again, begging him to continue.

"David..." Her voice hitched in a long whine.

And how could he ignore such sweet pleas? He touched her again, thumb over her clit as he fucked her, painfully slowly, with a single finger. Her eyes shut, pleasure and gratitude that soon turned to begging again, pleas of "not enough" and "more" and that delightful way she would half-moan half-sigh his name.

What would dear old Rob think of this? His Resilient Queen on her back, panting under him? Begging him? Dripping wet for him? Soulmates be damned.

He replaced his finger with his mouth, his strokes with a kiss. She tensed, her breath a gasp of delight. He licked his lips and pulled back.

"You're mine," he growled.

He moved down until his mouth was at her entrance again. She guided him closer but he refused to go further.

"Say it," he demanded. "Stay it or I stop."

His mouth was so close to her sex that his words made her shiver. He lapped up a bit and pulled back to release a sharp breath onto her. She whimpered and tried to tug him closer.


She clutched at the sheets, her head turned to the left, eyes screwed shut and stomach muscles taut.

"Y-yours," she choked out. "I'm your- yours."

He rewarded her with two fingers, pushed them in slowly, and closed his mouth around her clit. Her back arched off the bed. He heard the fabric rip beneath her nails and laughed under his breath before adding a third. He pumped his fingers in and out in a fast, wild rhythm. Her hips bucked uncontrollably.


She came within seconds. He leaned up to watch her and kept going until she came twice more. David drew each one out, made her say certain choice phrases in that whiny voice she was doing, made her beg.

He was enjoying her, enjoying the way her face changed and back arched, the way her breasts bounced and thighs shook, the way her hands trembled when she reached for his hair. He reveled in each new sound his touch elicited, how her toes curled and nails bit into his skin. She was glorious.

"S-stop," she panted. Her back dropped onto the bed.

"No." He wanted to see how many he could ring out of her before exhaustion claimed her. 

Her hand came over his, patting desperately for him to stop. "David please."

He stilled his fingers and withdrew them slowly. He sucked each off and groaned at her taste. He leaned down to kiss her thighs, fully intending to make her come on his tongue alone this time. She pressed her legs closed.

"Stop. Stop. Please. I need to think for a minute," she panted, sitting up. "You're going to make my heart explode."

He was undeterred and pulled her back down by her ankles.

"David," she laughed.

"No." He leaned up, his face hovering over hers. "Catch your breath, sweetheart. I don't intend to stop any time soon."

"I still have to go to work tomorrow," she tried.

"If you're thinking about work right now then I've done something horribly wrong."

She shook her head, eyes laughing. He cupped her cheek and ran his thumb across her bottom lip. He dragged it down a bit so he could see the pink of her inner lip before he pecked it.

He turned on his right, his hand under his head and elbow propped on the bed. Might as well give her a proper chance to recover, he reasoned. He looked over her body as she breathed, the rise and fall of her chest, the full roundness of her breasts, the beauty of her, raw and natural next to him.

He traced a finger from her navel upward to the valley between her breasts. She caught his hand and brought his fingers to her lips to kiss them. He smiled softly at her tenderness.

"Do you know what my favourite part of you is, Regina?"

She hummed in thought. "My ass," she suggested, turning on her side to face him.

Her eyebrow was perfectly arched and eyes teasing. He reached his arm out to draw her closer. He moved his hand from the small of her back to her ass and began massaging it. She gave him a lazy smile and hummed encouragingly.

"Well, I am quite fond of it," he answered, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. She chuckled. "But no. My favourite part... is your eyes."

Said feature widened slightly. "Really?"

He nodded. Her voice sounded so soft, so young, so... So... Vulnerable.

He started into her eyes. They were like dark pools of chocolate, but whenever the sun hit them they turned to honey with flecks of amber and gold.

"They're so beautiful," he continued. "And descriptive. I've never met anyone whose eyes portray emotions as powerfully as yours do. They're like a window into your soul. And from the small glimpse I've gotten..."

He paused to make sure he had her attention. She hung on his every word.

"It's breathtaking," he finished softly.

She was... speechless, this Goddess was speechless, her smile disbelieving like she'd never heard praise of that magnitude before. Surely she must have. The thief wasn't worthy of her. He never would be. But David had hoped he'd at least had enough intelligence to... To compliment the woman who had - quite incorrectly - chosen to give her heart to him.

If he wasn't already cursed, David would already be thinking up punishments for a crime of such folly.

"You are breathtaking, Regina."

She was quiet for a moment, blushing like a shy maiden. A schoolgirl, the modern voice - as he'd come to call it - corrected him. Her eyes flicked between his and her finger, tracing over his cheek and jaw.

"Do you really mean that?" she whispered, peaking up at him from under those dark lashes.

If Robin hadn't told her that at least once David might just have to break his legs. Slowly. Deliberately. And painfully.

"How can I not?" he asked.

He leaned forward and captured her lips. She responded lovingly, held his face in both hands and touched him so gently. He'd spent years dreaming of this, of finally having her, and now that she was here at last, David found no fantasy could ever compare.

"You're my Queen," he whispered, forehead against hers and eyes closed.

She gave a disbelieving laugh that made him pull back to look at her. He thought this might be the moment she called him "corny" - whatever that meant. But when he looked at her he saw that she was smiling tearily at him, like he was the most precious thing in all the realms, like he was the most important person in her life.

She's going to hate you when she remembers, that voice reminded him. All his egotism and bravado from earlier disappeared at that. She's not yours.

The voice was right, he thought in despair. How could he think otherwise? Her soulmate was out there and some day they'd find each other again.

And her child, Roland, the voice reminded. You separated a mother from her son.

She noticed the sudden change in him and kissed him deeply.

"I love you, David," she said, her smile so sweet it nearly convinced him.

She pulled him closer, cuddling into him, her arms around his neck and waist, their legs tangled. He sighed into her hair, breathing in the smell of her shampoo and closing his eyes at the feel of her in his arms.

She was going to hate him. And her outlaw would kill him. There was no magic in this world, David reflected. But arrows could still fly. And Robin of Locksley never missed.

"I love you more."