Chapter 20 Gala night
The night of the gala arrived too quickly.
Isabella stood in front of the mirror, hand clenched as she watched Melody put finishing touches on her face.
The dress on her body accentuates her curves, her neck sitting bare, to expose Lucien's bite marks on her neck.
She'd gasped when the dress had been brought to her, refusing to wear it, until Mira had told her that Lucien had specifically asked for the dress.
“He's here,” Mira said from the door, whispering. But she did not.
The moment he'd stepped foot into her quarters, she'd known. The bond had notified her immediately.
“You're good to go, ma'am” Melody bowed slightly.
“You look breathtakingly stunning, Ms Thorne,” Mira squealed the moment Melody left the room. “I’m very sure His Majesty will not be able to take his eyes off you.”
Isabella blushed. True, she looked good, but she really wasn't sure about Lucien not taking his eyes off her.
She inhaled deeply, before letting it out and picking up her purse. “See you later, Mira” she whispered and stepped out of the room, face to face with Lucien.
“Your Majesty,” she curtseyed, trying so hard not to look him over.
He was in a black suit, that was well-tailored to his body, showing his biceps.
“You look good,” Lucien commented, taking her in. Unlike her, he was not afraid to take everything she was wearing.
“Shall we?” He asked with his arms outstretched.
“Yes,” Isabella nodded and put her hands in his.
“Nervous?” Lucien asked, breaking the silence that had permeated them since they left the palace.
She nodded. “It's not something serious. Will disappear the moment we step into the room.”
Approval flashed in his eyes as he faced forward.
“We're here.” He spoke, as a guard stepped out and opened the door. “Remember to act accordingly.”
Isabella stopped herself in time from biting her lips just so she would not ruin her makeup.
He was supposed to be encouraging her, yet here he was, treating her like everyone else.
She took his outstretched hand and stepped out of the car.
“His Majesty and his companion,” the doorman announced stopping Isabella from saying.
The announcement of the guard hit her. But 72 hours of practice with Lady Margaret was no joke, and so, Isabella plastered the sweetest smile she could muster as she stepped into the hall.
The room was chilly, but Isabella was sure that was not the cause of the goosebumps that had begun to appear on her skin.
The entire hall was silent, all the chatters disappearing as everyone stared the moment they entered the hall.
Actually, they stared at her. She could see the women with scowls on their faces and the men looking at her lustfully.
“Eyes forward,” Lucien whispered.
She sniffled. He could sense her heart beating fast.
Then the murmurs started.
This is the moonlit blood
She's pretty
Oh please, I'm sure she seduced him. Look how half-naked she looks.
She didn't need to strain her ears to hear them. Anyone with half an ear could hear the gossip from whatever end of the hall.
“Your Majesty,” A cheery voice broke the tension that had begun to rise in the hall.
They spun to see a well-dressed man, who had eyes like Lucien but was very much older. He was also fine, and Isabella was sure he looked much younger than he appeared.
“Lord Casmir,” Lucien grunted, his lips tightened.
“I believe this is your companion?” Lord Casmir glanced at Isabella, before licking his lips, his eyes travelling first to her breast and then to her hips. His eyes lingered on the slit between her knees.
Lucien grunted, anger building up in him. “Seems you're back from your trip?” He managed to respond.
“Oh, that?” Casmir smiled. “Not done with that. I had to return to attend the gala so I could see the new fish you have.”
He turned to Isabella. “And she is pretty.”
Isabella’s face flushed as she tried to maintain her composure. She couldn't believe the man was eyeing her openly as though she were some free food.
“You shouldn't settle down.” He continued.
“Excuse you?” Isabella was confused. What was the man going on about?
He licked his lips irritably again. “I mean, you should explore. Explore your options and confirm if you really want to settle down with His Majesty here.” He motioned to Lucuien.
“Careful, Casmir. You're talking to my companion.” Lucien's voice was tight. He looked like he was barely holding himself together.
“Aha!” Lord Casmir exclaimed. “You see, you said it yourself. She's your companion, not your mate and certainly not your queen. You…”
The words stopped in his throat, as Lucien's hands grabbed his throat and lifted him up in the air.
“I will not have you speak to her like that.” Lucien fired.
The entire hall was silent. Had been silent since Lord Casmir grabbed Lucien's attention. There was no news on the friction between both of them.
“Your Majesty?” Isabella walked slowly to Lucien and grabbed his arms. “Please,” she whispered so only he could hear.
“He insulted you,” his voice was controlled, his gaze still on Lord Casmir. “Propositioned my mate before the entire court.”
Lord Casmir’s face was turning blue.
“I understand, but if you hurt him, then you would be proving him right and signalling to the entire court that I need your help.”
“She's wise, and well-trained. You should listen to her.” Casmir said, gasping in between words.
Lucien tightened his grasp, making him gasp for breath this time around.
“Your Majesty?” Isabella touched him. “Please.”
Without as much as a word, Lucien dropped him and turned away, while Casmir ran for his life.
“Why did you stop me?” Lucien muttered. His eyes were bloodshot.
Isabella sighed, looking around the hall. The drama was over and people had returned to what they were doing but she was no fool.
“Let's dance instead.” She said, her eyes staring at him and pleading not to say no.
He studied her, his lips curled into a small smile before stretching out his hand.
“Will you dance with me, my lady?”
Isabella returned the small smile and took his hands as they twirled to the middle of the hall.
From the corner of her eyes, she could see other eyes watching them.
One moment they were on the dance floor.
Next, Lucien was pulling her through a side door.
Isabella barely had time to register, when her back hit the cold garden walls.
"What are you…” She opened her mouth to ask, when his mouth crashed down on hers.
Isabella gasped against his lips, and he took advantage, deepening the kiss, tongue sweeping into her mouth with devastating skill.
Isabella's hands found his shoulders, gripping hard as her knees went weak. This…this was what she'd been starving for. Exactly what she'd been aching for.
Lucien's mouth moved from her lips to her jaw, down her throat. His fangs grazed the bite marks he'd left six years ago, and Isabella couldn't suppress the moan that escaped.
"Fuck," Lucien growled against her skin. "I can smell you. Smell how wet you already are for me."
Heat flooded her face. "Your Majesty…"
Lucien broke away, his face darkening. “What'd you call me?”
“Lucien…” She squeezed her thighs, hungry to go back to what had been going on.
"Say it again." His hand slid from her hip to her thigh, finding the high slit in her gown. Cool fingers traced up bare skin. "Say my name."
"Lucien," she gasped.
"Good girl." His hand moved higher, finding the edge of her silk panties. Without warning, he hooked his fingers in the delicate fabric and ripped.
Isabella felt the ruined undergarment fall away, felt the cool night air hit her exposed core. She was bare beneath her gown now, nothing between her and…
"Come here." Lucien sat on the stone bench, pulling her with him. Before Isabella could process what was happening, he'd positioned her across his lap, face down, ass up, legs spread wide over his thighs.
"Lucien, what are you…" She gasped. “Someone might walk in here.”
"Quiet." His hand pushed her gown up, bunching the expensive silk around her waist. "Unless you want everyone in that ballroom to hear."
Cool air kissed her bare skin, her ass, her thighs, her dripping core fully exposed to the night. To him.
Isabella tried to fight the humiliation and arousal in her chest. The arousal won, and she gave in, settling obediently on his lap.
"Do you know how long I've wanted to do this?" Lucien's voice was dark, rough. His hand traced over the curve of her ass almost gently. "Weeks of watching you. Weeks of you looking at me with those defiant eyes. Challenging me. Testing my control."
His hand left her skin.
CRACK
His palm connected with her right ass cheek, hard, sharp, the sound echoing through the garden.
Isabella cried out, the feeling that followed the slap was very confusing. Part pain, part shock and surprisingly, pleasure. She felt good.
"I said quiet."
Lucien's other hand pressed between her shoulder blades, holding her down. "Take it. Show me you can be obedient to something."
CRACK
Isabella bit her lip until she tasted copper, trying desperately not to make a sound. She wanted this to stop, but her body was betraying her. She arched her hips backwards, her legs spread wide, anticipating more stings.
"Look at you." Lucien's voice held dark satisfaction. "Spread wide over my lap. Ass in the air. Dripping onto my trousers."
Oh God, she could feel it, the wetness between her thighs, the way her body was responding to the pain, the complete loss of control.
CRACK CRACK CRACK
Isabella whimpered, hands scrabbling for purchase on his leg.
"Count." The command was absolute.
"What?"
"The next ten. Count them. Out loud. Or I stop and leave you here just like this."
The threat of being left, aching, exposed, unfulfilled, was worse than any spanking, any humiliation that she thought this was.
"Yes," Isabella gasped. "Yes, I'll count."
His hand smoothed over her abused flesh.
CRACK
"One," she choked out.
CRACK
"Two"
CRACK
"Three.. oh God,” she groaned.
"Louder. I want to hear you."Lucien whispered wickedly into her ears, making her shiver.
CRACK
"FOUR!"
Her ass was on fire.
CRACK
"Five…please"
"Please what?" His fingers traced between her legs, not touching where she needed, just teasing. "Please stop? Or please don't?"
CRACK
"Six. don't…don't stop.” She knew she was being desperate now.
She heard him growl, a sound of pure masculine satisfaction.
CRACK
"Seven."
Then she heard something else. The sound of leather.
Isabella's eyes flew open. She turned her head just enough to see…
Lucien had removed his belt.
The thick leather hung from his hand, and his eyes were molten silver as he met her gaze.
"Three more," he said quietly. "With this. Can you take it?"
She should say no. Should stop this before it goes too far.
But her body was on fire. And some dark part of her that had been denied for too long wanted this, wanted to submit. Wanted to give him the control he was demanding.
"Yes," she whispered. "I can take it."
"That's my girl."
The belt whistled through the air.
THWACK
The leather struck her right cheek, so much sharper than his hand, so much more intense.
"EIGHT!" Isabella's voice broke on a sob.
THWACK
Left cheek. The pain was exquisite, overwhelming.
"NINE…oh fuck, NINE!" She arched forward.
"One more, little moon. You're doing so well. Taking everything I give you."
THWACK
The final strike landed across both cheeks.
"TEN!"
She collapsed across his lap, shaking, sobbing, her ass on fire and her core absolutely drenched.
"Fix your dress," he said, voice like gravel.
"What?"
"Fix. Your. Dress." Each word was precise, clipped. "We're going back inside.”