Taken by the devilish ki.., p.1
Taken by the Devilish King, page 1
TAKEN BY THE DEVILISH KING
ABDUCTED BY THE RUTHLESS ROYALS
RHYS WILDER
CONTENTS
Trigger Warning
1. Ayla
2. Lofy
3. Ayla
4. Lofy
5. Ayla
6. Lofy
7. Ayla
8. Lofy
9. Ayla
10. Lofy
11. Ayla
Abducted by the Ruthless Royals
Also by Rhys
Audiobooks
About the Author
TRIGGER WARNING
Contains a scene that can be considered consensual non-consensual, but it all makes sense in the context of the world of Vyperion and their ways.
CHAPTER 1
AYLA
Whose bright idea was it to let me walk to set on my own in the middle of the night with my only company the stars above?
You'd think after three movies they'd treat me better, but no, I still have to fight for basic things. As if I haven't brought them billions upon billions of dollars in the box office.
At least it's nighttime, although at the moment I can't decide if that's better or worse.
Better, because my feet aren't burning in the scorching sand. Worse, because it's nighttime. In the desert.
Why are they so obsessed with deserts? Isn't this franchise supposed to be about galaxies? Why do they picture every planet in every galaxy as the Sahara Desert?
At least we're almost done. Three more days of shoots and then I'm free. Until the next movie.
I have to get my agent to renegotiate some terms because I'm not going through that again. The disrespect for their female lead is abysmal. And money. If I'm going to suffer through another trilogy of abductions in bikinis and kissing every kind of alien warrior out there I need to make it worth my while.
It's not often a plus-sized actress gets to be a hot romantic lead and I'll be damned if I don't milk it for all its worth. If not for me, then at least for the millions of women out there trying to love themselves as they are.
I stop and catch my breath. Where the fuck is the fucking set?
I squint and look around me but it's no help. I'm lost. I'm fucking lost in the middle of the night in the fucking desert where reception is patchier than some of the male actors’ hairlines.
It doesn't mean I don't try to reach the AD. I wait for the beep beep sound, but my phone stays quiet.
"Fuck!"
Whose bright idea was it to let me do this on my own? Should I keep going or stay put and hope they come looking for me soon?
"Ayla, are you sure you want to walk on your own? Pick-up will be here any moment now," my PA had asked me before I decided to go out for a think and a smoke. Something I don't do often except in certain circumstances, like the end of a production, when everyone is stressed and nervous to get everything done within the time constraint and budget.
So, in short, I have no one to blame for this, but myself. Well done, Ayla. You went and got yourself lost.
I sigh and try my phone again.
Nothing.
"What am I going to—" I stop when a light blinds me. "Oh thank God. They found me."
I shield my eyes and try to find my rescuers but as I adjust to the brightness I realize it's not coming from ground level but up above.
"What the—" I look up and see a disk floating a few feet above me, a searchlight aimed right at me. Suddenly, I feel lighter.
The ground under my feet vanishes and when I look down I don't find sand anywhere near me. No, instead I'm floating above it and the more I stare the higher I soar.
What the fuck is happening to me? Have I fallen down a sand dune and hit my head or...
Am I being abducted by aliens?
Either way, I do what any person in my position would do.
I scream.
And scream and scream until everything goes dark.
I take a deep breath and stretch my limbs.
Okay. Cool. I still seem to have all my hands and feet intact. And my head. Which kinda helps with the whole staying alive thing, I guess.
I open one eye. I expect to find sterile lighting and big-headed aliens with terrible skin but instead I'm surrounded by color and soft furnishings. There are fabrics in different shades of blue and red draped across the ceiling that match the silky smooth sheets of the large bed I'm in the middle of.
"O-kay..." I whisper and open the other eye.
The room is circular with lots of rugs, low tables, and cushions. Cushions everywhere.
"Wait a minute!" I exclaim as I sit up in bed.
I'm on set.
Yeah. That's right. I'm on set and my earlier hallucination of floating in the desert was just that. A hallucination. The crew found me and came to pick me up and my brain made up some UFO and the whole flying thing. Maybe I'd gotten some sort of food poisoning which would explain the confusion. And the passing out.
"Okay. That sounds more plausible. Karma! Karma, where are you?"
I need some water. My mouth is super dry and I can feel the oncoming headache. We can't have any of that.
"Karma?"
I look for my PA but there's no one around.
Actually, now that I think about it, why is the room closed off? Where are the cameras supposed to go? Or are they going for more intimate closeup shots?
Perhaps they found the perfect real location and couldn't afford passing it up. I could find out what’s going on if there was anyone around, for fuck sake.
Where did everyone go?
"Hello? Anyone here?"
And with that, a door opposite the bed opens and my voice catches in my throat.
Three men walk in. Two stand on either side of the door and the third one walks up to me and stops at the foot of the bed.
But that's not the reason I find myself unable to speak. It's because they're all painted blue, with bright sapphire contact lenses and robotic tails that move in sync with their bodies.
"Hello, Earth woman," says the guy in front of me.
He has short, black hair and stands almost six feet tall with the prettiest face I've seen on anyone, alien or human.
He’s topless, because of course who in their right mind would cover those well defined pecs and chest? We want our movies to make money after all, and thirst traps are mandatory.
Hell, even I can’t stop myself from staring at them, which is so embarrassing, but hey, a girl’s gotta eat and eating with my eyes isn’t hurting anyone, is it?
Oh shit. My gaze lands on something long, blue and…mean. Is that his…cock?
It’s unlike any third leg I’ve ever seen before, and it’s unashamedly hard. The slit is winking right at me.
What’s wrong with production? Why would they give them such blatant body parts? Are they looking for an R rating with this latest entry?
And he’s not the only one brandishing a big alien cock. It’s the guards too although they don’t seem to be “aroused”. What the fuck? And why the fuck can’t I stop staring?
His voice is smooth and sultry and the way he looks at me—when I manage to pry my eyes from his prosthetic length—with bright slitted eyes that remind me of the blue waters of the mediterranean does something to me. I don't know what it is because I've never found any of the aliens in any of the films attractive, but my clit throbs under his watch.
"Damn. The SFX guys did a fantastic job with you. You…look so real," I tell the man and cross my legs before I do something completely inappropriate that gets me into trouble. Like beckon him closer and invite him to lie with me right between my thighs.
"SFX?" he asks as if he's genuinely confused and it takes me a moment to remember what we’re even talking about.
Hm. Perhaps he's new to the industry and doesn't know all the terms yet.
He keeps staring at me with fire in his eyes and lips pursed slightly to the side, almost in a grin, as if he’s also finding it impossible to stop.
"Are you new?”
He grimaces.
“No. I’m not new.”
I nod.
“Oh. Maybe…do you not speak English very well?" I ask when he doesn't say anything for some painful moments.
I’m not going to lie, lying with my legs crossed and my clit throbbing between them isn’t helping the situation. It doesn’t help me form sentences or coherent thoughts.
"No," he says. "I'm not speaking English at all."
Now I'm even more confused.
"What?" I shake my head and focus. I uncross my legs as if that will help when I feel sensitive and tense all over. "SFX. Special effects? The people that did your makeup?"
His face straightens and he lets out a hearty laugh and I feel warm wetness spreading across my pussy.
Why the fuck am I reacting like this? I’m not a horny, sex-crazed person. I’m not a player. And I certainly don’t go around lusting over extras.
There's something about this guy. I can't put my finger on it but it’s him. He’s causing this, somehow.
By being all hot and handsome.
"Ah. You think we're on set? You think this is SFX and prosthetics?" He raises his arms and glances at them with an amused grin that makes him look smug. I want to slap him straight. And then…maybe…bite those plump, grayed lips.
"I thought you said you don't speak English." That's good Ayla. Focus on the conversation, the facts, because if I think too much about the thoughts shooting from my head to my clit, they can only lead t
"I don't. I'm speaking Vyperian."
What the fuck was Vyperian? Was that one of the made up languages the diehard fans liked to learn to impress or embarrass us with during signings and Comic-con?
"Oh. I get it. You're in character. Okay. Good. Yeah. That makes sense. Who are you supposed to be? Did they change the script again? Because I've already learned my lines."
If they think they can change the script on a whim every day, we're going to need to have some talks. I don't pour my heart and soul into playing Admiral Calliope, into finding the motivation behind every move, every line only so they can turn the tables on me and force me to parrot stupid words that make no sense to anyone but them and the hardcore fans.
"I am not in character. I am King Lofynyx of Vyperion, Ms. Kyle."
I grimace.
Nothing that's coming out of his mouth is making any sense. There was no planet called Vyperion or any kings in the Battle of the Galaxies. There was no active monarchy in any of the movies.
"You can just call me Ayla. But I still don't understand. Since when do we have a king in the script? We only have three days of shoots left. Are they seriously going to introduce a new character in the final act? Or is this a post-credit thing no one thought to tell me about?"
I search around for Karma again, a crew member, anyone who can explain what the hell is going on but there's no one else. Just the King actor and the two extras standing by the door as if they’re his guards.
"Ms Kyle—Ayla, I'm your biggest fan," the man drops to his knees and searches for my hands, taking them in his and kissing the back of them. "I love your work. You're a very talented actress. And a very sexy woman."
Oh shit.
Maybe I have been abducted, but not by aliens, but by creepy fans.
Fuck!
That would explain the lack of a crew. That would be why nothing makes sense.
"Who...who are you? What do you want from me?"
"I told you, Ayla. I'm King Lofynyx and you're going to be my queen."
Oh fuck.
I've got a real headcase over here. And from the looks of it he has the money to evade production security and bring his fantasies to life.
"That's all very well and good, but I've got a movie to shoot, so if you wouldn't mind..." I start getting up only then realizing I'm not wearing my usual Calliope costume but a thin, black see-through robe. "The fuck?"
"Ayla, you don't understand. You're not on set. You're not on Earth. I stole you and we're traveling in space, back to my home planet where I will marry you and crown you Queen of Vyperion. You’re going to be my wife. My mate," he says.
It takes me a moment to process what he says, what with being practically naked in front of him, and him speaking nonsense but when I do, I turn around and take his hand.
I rub it but the paint doesn't come off.
Oh shit.
Oh fuck.
"This isn’t make-up, is it? You're really an alien, aren't you?"
He nods with a slow, almost sweet, blink of his eyes with long, rich eyelashes.
God, he really is gorgeous, even if he's a blue devil.
"Wait a minute. Did you just say you stole me?"
CHAPTER 2
LOFY
She's radiant.
As beautiful and sexy as she was on screen, she's twice as much in real life. I can't stop staring. I can't stop looking at every inch of her body on full display just for me.
Vyperians usually don't bother with clothing save for special occasions but I realize Earth's customs are different so I commanded my attendants to get some human clothes for her before we took her, to make her feel more comfortable. More at home.
However, the instructions had been clear. They still need to be revealing enough to satisfy my Vyperian needs. I’m so pleased they delivered.
The black robe compliments her fiery long hair and offers such contrast to her glistening, ivory skin.
There's not a single inch of her she can hide from me and I can't wait to make her mine in all the Vyperian ways possible. I harden just looking at her succulent, smooth body. My mouth waters just by the thought of all the things I could do to her.
But my head fills with the buzzing sensation of anger mixed with fear and those feelings keep me anchored on the spot.
"Stolen, yes. As I've explained, I'm taking you away from the planet you call Earth and to my home planet where I will claim you before my people as my queen."
I want her to have no doubt about my intentions for her. She will rule my planet with me and will serve my needs just like I will do hers. We will be the idyllic Vyperian royal couple and silence all my naysayers. All my enemies.
"Are you...are you proud? Because you sound proud." She lets go of my hand and I immediately miss her warmth against my skin.
The anger turns to scattered thoughts in my head, confusion still paired with fear.
And to think only moments ago, I could feel her arousal for me like a searing heat in my head that traveled all the way down to my cock. But now that desire has subsided, overtaken by negative feelings I don't like.
I don't want to make her feel scared. I want to make her feel wanted and needed.
“I am indeed. Proud, that is. I’ve dreamt of this moment a million times over.”
I reach for her, having every intention of putting her back to sleep but when I manage to wrap my large hand around hers, it gives me pause.
Her scent is intoxicating. She smells of earthen flowers that remind me of the seabeds of Vyperion's ocean and her skin glistens like the moons at nightfall. But there's something else there, a different kind of scent that infiltrates my olfactory senses and makes me ache with more desire than ever before.
It smells sweet and sumptuous and causes the hairs on the back of my neck to rise.
"What?" she snaps as I lean closer and inhale her scent but it doesn't take me long to locate it. It's coming right down from her core and the realization sends me into a spiral of need for her, need for release and need for self-control.
"You're hot for me," I whisper, barely able to hold back my tongue.
It darts over her collarbone and I hiss with the taste of her against it, lingering in my mouth.
She, on the other hand, jumps back with a screech.
"I-is that a forked tongue?"
I smile and close the distance she created.
I've barely tasted her, I've barely touched her and I'm already desperate for more. I knew my obsession with her was senseless, but I never anticipated I'd be so helpless in her presence.
"Our people make good use of them, I guarantee," I tell her and raise my hand to touch her sweet, decadent pussy, but before I can, she slaps my hand away.
I feel it reverberate through my body, the emotion behind the action making my head throb with pain.
"Hey! What do you think you're doing?" she shouts.
"I apologize. I thought you wanted me to touch you."
She grimaces but some of the fear shifts into heat, which lashes at my empathic brain, making me hiss.
"Why the hell would you get that idea?"
I look down at her. I take my time to admire her body. The delicate skin around her neck, the ample tits with the dark, flushed buds, the supple love handles, the curvy hips, until I settle on her drenched, succulent folds.
"You are wet for me," I tell her without taking my eyes from her core.
She gasps and pushes me back.
"Excuse me? What the fuck?" She fumbles with the ends of the robe and folds one over the other, resting her hands in front of her pussy, and I'm forced to look back up. "Which reminds me, what did you do with my clothes? What the hell is this?"
She raises one arm and waves the sleeve of the robe at me, her frustration amplifying within her and within me.
"I wanted to make you comfortable for the trip home."
She smacks my chest and even though it doesn't hurt, I feel that is the intent behind it. All it achieves is to make me pulse harder for her.
"I don't want to go to your home. Take me back. Now. I want to go to my home. I don't want to be your queen."
I look into her eyes, those big wonderful gray eyes I've only ever gotten lost in through a screen and purse my lips.
