Chapter 4 The Ballerina
THE DRAGON
My queen was mad. Twitching fingers. Red ears. Deliberate distance.
We never dined like this. Seated at either ends of the table, conventional French royal style.
“Ma Royne,” my voice traveled across the stretch of silver, porcelain, and glossed duck to her seat. Our eyes met. She squinted in irritation.
Bracing my elbow on the table, palm up, I beckoned with my middle finger.
Her eyes narrowed till they were slits. Red-faced and ready to breathe fire. But I was her king, and we had spectators in aprons and waistcoats. She hesitated for just a second, before standing up.
But damning prosperity, the rebellious woman raised her full skirts and hopped on the dining table. Her femme de chambres gasped, hurriedly looking away.
Nymphaea was all calm grace and swishing silk, walking left of the long line of dish platters running down the middle of the table.
Her sandaled feet halted before me.
Here, she stared down at me for several heartbeats, and lowered elegantly till she was sitting on the table. I smiled.
I liked her like this. It made dominating her a goddamn thrilling experience.
Leaning back against my seat, I cocked an eyebrow, “Show your king that pretty pussy.”
Her bottom lip disappeared between her teeth. A final attempt at restraint. I saw the struggle in those green eyes, barely holding back all the insults that rushed to her royal head.
Our eyes still locked, she parted her legs like a courtesan, pulling her robe and layered skirts away from her ankles. My gaze traced her silk stockings up her thigh as she finally pulled back her chemise and sat bare before me.
Her scent hit me immediately. A blend of a hundred white floras. Lilies.
She stared at me, waiting, and I ran my index finger across my chin in pretend thoughtfulness. Crushing her last strand of nerve beneath my soles.
Her eyes were shifting at this point. Moving between their natural green to the fiery amber of a dragon.
“Now,” I leaned in and slipped a finger into the band of her stockings. “Do you mind telling this king what he did to put you in such a foul mood?”
Silence.
Maintaining our locked gazes, I pressed my lips to her knee. She shifted uncomfortably, but kept her lips sealed.
A ripping sound echoed around the dining hall, and I tossed her other stockings, shredded, behind me. She gasped this time, glancing back at her maids and the valets standing like statues, cheeks the shade of a tomato.
“I did not give them leave, did I?” I kissed her inner thigh, toasty from being silk-protected all day. “Still waiting for that answer.”
She sighed audibly, parting her legs wider. I was now swimming in the delicate scent of orange blossoms which her lady-in-waiting applied to her mound at every outfit change.
“Ma Royne?”
“You broke your promise.” Her voice was a mix of rage and thrill as my tongue kissed the pink bud at the peak of her pussy.
I rose to my feet with a satisfied smile. I knew exactly what she was talking about.
“Does that excuse your insolence?” I stared in her eyes, stepping between her parted legs.
“I…”
My fingers found her entrance, and she choked on air as I pinched hard. My free hand pushed the dishes, watching them fall off the table with a crash to the floor.
“Look up, Royne,” I whispered against her ear, my dick hardening at the discovery of how wet she was, her pussy warm and squeezing around the ball of my thumb.
Her back fell to the table.
I wedged my free hand under her waist. She dragged in a shaky breath.
Leaning over her, I caressed her earlobe with the tip of my nose. “The valet would tell the coachman what the Queen’s moans are like.” I pressed down hard on the floor of her pussy.
She squirmed on the table, chin to the ceiling, her eyes pinned on the servants who looked lightheaded.
“The coachman would take the news to the kitchen.” I pinned her down with my hips, pressing harder on the floor of her pussy, as two other fingers pinched her clit with just the right amount of pain that sent her feral.
And she did go feral, trashing, whimpering and moaning in turns.
“Look at their faces, you think they will be able to keep this tale to themselves?” My voice was right in her ears, and her hands were everywhere, my hair, face, digging under my coat for skin to scratch.
“My wild cat.” I giggled, and switched to stroking the pleasure bumps on the roof of her pussy. All her grace fell away at this point, like the leaves of a tree in autumn.
Her legs wrapped tight around my waist, lips open, moaning and gasping.
“Come, my darling. Come.” I increased my pace, stroking faster, breathing in her hair, savoring that fresh smell of lilies. “No one should say the king neglects his marital duties for a closed-door meeting with Ministre de la Gurre.”
“Daine,” her moans rent the hall, but echoes seemed to be coming from all over.
Daine,
Daine,
Draki
I jolted with a shuddering gasp, dragging air through my lungs as I took in my different reality of glass, electricity and air diffusers.
It hurt. It hurt so bloody much.
These dreams, these dreams that afflicted me like curses. A bridge between centuries.
“Daine?” Hale called again, and I jerked flaming eyes in his direction. Any other person and I would have turned them into a nice chunk of roast.
“Wolves are not very tasty, I should warn you.” He squinted suspiciously, accurately guessing my thoughts.
“Come here.” I grabbed his belt, and yanked him to my face.
“There’s a very willing sub down in the kitchen if you’re feeling quite dominant,” he responded, and I bristled at the thought of that vampire-boy.
“Was she in your dream?” Hale’s voice softened as my hands worked fast at his belt, yanking his pants down to free his cock.
“When hasn't she?” Our eyes met, my chest on fire from the memory. One hundred and twenty years. It did not make sense that a whole century had passed, and she had not returned.
“Are you going to suck it or what?” Hale teased now, an obvious attempt to distract me from my grief. “Do your patrons know their dark god feeds on Alpha cock?”
“You’re itching for a whip, Hale.”
“If you can get me down long enough to pull out your whip, King Draki.” He smirked, grabbed my hair and yanked me closer.
I lowered my lips, blowing heat from the lava deep in my belly to the dark bulbous crown of his cock. His eyes closed briefly, fingers running through my hair. I stuck my tongue out where he could see, and he bit his lip hard, abs spasming in anticipation.
A hair’s breath away from taking him in my mouth, I pulled back. “Zip up.”
The fury on his face was delicious. But the dignified alpha tucked himself, yanked his zip and turned away.
We sat in the silence that was only rhythmically broken by the whistling of the vampire boy from his herb garden below our bedroom window.
“I was at the hospital today.” Hale’s voice finally broke the silence. “The NICU reminded me of that time when Karachi flooded and its citizens were fishing with bare hands in the streets.”
I squeezed my fist. Hale could never speak without analogies. I hated it, but it painted a vivid picture of our present predicament.
“Their mothers?”
“Healthy, sad and weepy”
I stood up, and crossed the floor to the window. “I don’t care for those dolls.” The NICU was overflowing with pre-term pups, and I should not delay this much longer. But my skin crawled with disgust at the memory of the lists of women he had drawn up in the past months.
“Then this Ballerina is perfect for you. Graceful and elegant the way you like them.”
“But weak.” I pulled the blinds back, staring down at the dark-haired beauty with an umbrella over his head to shield himself from the direct glare of the sun. “And I take only the willing.”
Hale stopped beside me, and together we stared down at the vampire boy. “You should at least see her. Once.”
“Seems you’ve already decided o…” I was saying when my body seemed to suddenly drop a hundred pounds.
Hale locked eyes with me. He reacted first, dashing out the door, but I appeared in the vault just as he stepped through the door.
The vault looked like a storm had just run through it, shelves lying sideways, lamps broken, books downturned, pieces of paper spilling out.
“Finn!” Hale thundered, and vampire-boy brought the wind in with him. His aqua-colored eyes traveled around my most treasured place in the world, and widened in surprise.
“Who was here?” Hale asked without turning.
“Uh. I was in the garden?” he responded. I bit off a biting remark and went to work immediately.
No one would risk their lives so uselessly except they were here to steal something important.
“Here,” Vampire-boy called out.
I spun around. My breath stopped at the sight of the broken safe he was staring at. Of all the things the thieves could have taken? They chose… The world bowed at the roar that tore out my lungs.
Both men fell to the ground, shielding their heads with their hands as the building shook, more shelves tumbled, windows shattered and plasters rained like fine snow. Terrified shrieks carried in through the window from the streets below, and finally the quake stopped.
Hale stood up, staring at me with a squint. “How did you not feel that someone had broken into this place?”
I paused.
His eyes went round. “You’re degenerating, Daine.”