by Ann Denton
You are a five-year-old.
I love you.
I shook my head, tears forming in my eyes.
Don’t be sad, Dove.
I’m not. I love you, too. Now leave me and Declan alone, dammit.
Fine. But no funny business without me.
I turned to Declan. “I don’t know how you stood him all these years.”
Declan gave me a little grin. “I just start reciting crop calculations and figures. Shuts him up and gets him out of my head real quick.”
I laughed, draping my arms over Declan’s shoulders. “He’s worried you’re going to get up to naughty things without him.”
Declan kissed me. A soft kiss that traveled from my lips to my chin to my neck. “If I thought that would help, I would.”
My heart jumped. “It might.”
Declan chuckled, “I’ll play with you, if that’s what you really want.”
“Playful Declan?” I couldn’t resist asking, “What would that look like?”
Immediately Declan stiffened against me. His whisper was soft, so soft I could barely hear it. “Which side do you want? Dom or sub?”
It was almost as if he were scared of my answer.
“Whatever you want, darling,”
He shook his head. “Think, Bloss. Take a moment. What do you need?”
I stared at him for a second. And then I surprised myself when the word, “Dom,” slipped out of my lips. But it was a piece of Declan I’d never seen. And I was curious. More than curious. I was desperate to see that side of him. Desperate to see every side of him.
Declan immediately inhaled and straightened up so he could look down at me. His gaze was hard and piercing and sarding hot.
“Lay down on the bed.”
I lay down immediately and watched him. He took his hand and ran it over the front of my body, between my breasts and down my stomach. He stopped at my hip bones. He tapped my right hip. “Turn over.”
I turned and lay on my stomach, letting the velvet coverlet brush my cheek. The soft scrape of the velvet hardened my nipples.
“I want you to take a deep breath. Tonight, you had a nightmare. And that might happen again for a while.” Declan said.
I took a deep breath and nodded into the blankets as Declan ran his fingers down my spine and back up again.
“Now, Peace. I’m going to give you a massage—”
I pushed my head up and turned toward him, “I thought we were playing Dom!”
Smack! He slapped my ass and then pinched the bottom of the curve, where my ass met my leg. It didn’t hurt, but it startled me.
Declan frowned and put his hands on my shoulders.
“We are playing Dom, darling. And I get to decide what to do to you.”
Declan pushed me gently back onto my stomach. Then he straddled me and leaned down, letting his chest brush my back, letting me feel his hardness through his pants. He rubbed himself lightly against my ass and let his lips caress my ear. His teeth played with my earlobe. “You chose Dom, Peace. Now I get to choose what happens next. You aren’t queen when we play Dom.” Declan’s hand traced down my sides. It slid over the curve of my breast, my hip. His fingers dug in briefly. “Now wait here while I get the oil.”
A minute later, the top of the bed moved as Declan climbed on behind me. “It’s just me,” he soothed softly. The bed bounced a little as he shuffled closer.
He wrapped a cloth around the shallow cut in my arm from my magic. Then he spoke. “I’m going to pour some oil on your back. It might be cold at first. But I’ll warm it with my hands. Your job is to stay still.”
When the first drops of oil hit, I couldn’t help my gasp, or the slight recoil of my body. But then I smelled roses and violets. Declan had gone and gotten scented oil. His hands fell onto my back and gently swirled the oil around.
I let my eyelids close. I told my pounding heart and throbbing pussy to relax. Declan was in charge. I didn’t have to worry about anything. What to say. What to do about Avia. I just had to lay here. I just had to stay still.
Gradually, as Declan kneaded my shoulders and moved down my spine, he said, “I want you to breathe with me, sweetheart.” And he started inhaling deeply. He held his breath a few seconds. Then he exhaled.
I took a deep, shuddering breath. At the same moment, Declan dug his fingers deep into my back, pulling the tension away from my spine and spreading it out over my ribs until his fingers lifted. Strangely, that movement seemed to pull the tension with it. As though he’d physically lifted the tension away from me.
“That,” I whispered. “Do that again.”
He smacked my rump. “You aren’t the boss right now, Peace.” But he did it again.
I grinned into the blanket. “I forgot.”
Declan’s mouth met my back and he whispered. “I’m gonna have to punish you for forgetting.” And then he sucked at my skin, hard. So hard he made a mark. He rolled me over. And he did the same on my chest, just above the swell of my breasts. He sucked my skin in.
“Are you giving me hickeys?” I breathed.
Declan smacked my hip as he released me. “I didn’t say you could talk,” he pretended to growl, but his eyes were sparkling with mischief. Declan was being playful and naughty.
“Quinn’s gonna kill you,” I whispered.
He shrugged. “I can take Quinn.”
“I can’t wait to watch that.”
Declan moved up the bed so he could spread out by my side, his front pressed against me, his head propped on one arm. “It looks like you’re feeling better.”
I nodded as I turned on my side and buried my face against Declan’s neck. “Tell me about it,” I said.
He knew exactly what I wanted. “My mother was always a perfectionist. Not that I saw much of her. The bastard’s nursery wasn’t a popular spot to visit—”
I growled and popped up out of my snuggle so I could grab his hand and drape it over me. “It should have been. You were her most adorable baby, by far.”
He gave a sad little grin and I imagined what he’d looked like, staring at the door of the nursery, waiting for his mother, Queen Diamoni. Always being disappointed.
I shook him slightly, determined to help lift his sadness after he’d helped me with my fear. “You forget, I’ve met your brothers. They’re basically blond-colored bears.”
Declan chuckled.
“I’m dead serious. Brendon’s snaggle tooth makes him look like he could eat children.”
“Maybe he has,” Declan’s grin was wider now.
I stroked his hair. “I got the best one of the bunch.”
“You got the one dropped on your doorstep.”
I lifted my leg and draped it over him. “I beg to differ. But we’re getting off-track. You were going to tell me more about your deluded mother.”
Declan cleared his throat and continued, reaching his free arm across my waist so his hand could trace lazy patterns in the oil that coated my spine. “She always came in wanting my shirts more starched or criticizing how scuffed my shoes were. Maybe it was her way of chiding my nanny for not taking better care of me. But, it always kind of felt like she was critiquing me.”
He fell silent for a second, lost in memory. I waited, knowing he was sharing a part of himself with me that he had to hide at court. I’d never seen Declan anxious. Never seen him break down. But he said he knew how I’d felt when I woke. I waited patiently.
He was quiet when he spoke again. “I hadn’t thought about it before, but maybe my mother had the same obsession that I do. I’ve always been obsessed with perfection. One of my quirks. Drives my butler mad.”
I gave a naughty grin. “So, you’re saying I shouldn’t go sneak into your room at night and rearrange all your things?”
Declan laughed and hugged me to him so he could swat my butt. “Definitely not. That would make you a bad girl.”
“If I promise I won’t, will you pretend I did and punish me anyway, sometime?”
His
eyes grew dark with lust. “Anything you want.”
I raised my eyebrows suggestively but said, “I want to hear the rest of this story. I want to know my Declan.”
He bit his lip at that. At first, I thought it was because he was nervous to tell me about what made him panic.
But he said, “Yours?”
I moved my hand from playing with his hair and caressed his cheek. “Mine.”
His hand came from my back and grabbed my hand as it stroked his face. He pulled my hand down and placed it over his heart, between us. There was a long moment where we were lost in each other’s eyes before he continued.
“As I said, perfection became an obsession. As I got older, it got harder and harder to deal with things that weren’t perfect. Every time I made a mistake, I hated myself. Grew anxious. Had this overwhelming feeling come over me. The same kind of thing I saw when you woke up. Panic.” His hand stroked mine where it lay against his chest.
“How did you learn to control it?”
He pursed his lips. “I found an outlet.” He blushed and didn’t hold my gaze.
“What outlet?” I breathed.
“The whip,” he whispered.
It took me a few seconds to process what he’d said. But then I gasped and pulled my hand away from him. I sat up in bed, pulled on his shirt, yanking it upward. “Roll over,” I commanded.
“Bloss, it’s not—”
I pushed him over. “You hurt yourself?” My fingers were already tracing over the faint pink scars I could see on his lower back.
“I know I’m not normal—”
He stopped talking when I bent and put my lips on one of the scars. I kissed it. And then its neighbor. I yanked at his tunic shirt, pulling it higher, kissing each little red line I saw. Some of them were thick and big, they looked like they’d been deep.
I moved to straddle Declan’s back. I made sure I kissed every single scar he had. When I was done, I rested on top of him, my cheek on his spine.
“Are you … disgusted by me?” he whispered.
I felt his body tense underneath me as he awaited my answer. “No, sweetling. I’m not.” I hugged him. “After my nightmare—my physical reaction was so intense. I couldn’t stop the shaking. I wouldn’t have been able to stop without you.”
He let out a shaky breath.
“But you are gonna have to teach me how to use the whip. Some of your scars are way too big and there’s no way in hell I’m gonna let you get that hurt—”
In a single move I was somehow on my back on the bed and Declan was looming over me.
“You’d whip me?” his voice was soft.
“If that’s the only thing that will snap you out of it, then yeah. I’m here to give you what you need, Dec. We take care of each other, right?”
His mouth swooped down on mine in a bruising kiss. It was desperate and fierce, and his tongue fought to dominate mine. His hands reached out and grabbed mine, pinning them to my sides as he rolled us, so I was sitting on him once more, only this time I was on his front, his erection digging into my thigh through his pants. Declan gave me one last nip and then laid back on the mattress with the largest grin I’d ever seen.
“What?” I asked.
“You love me.”
“That isn’t new.”
He shrugged. “It kind of is.”
I smiled. “Yeah, I guess it kind of is.”
We basked in sweet shy smiles for a moment as dawn peeked through the window with a ray of orange light.
I was just leaning down toward Declan, thinking our sweet tender moment might be here, when Ginnifer walked through the door.
“Your Majesty—” she stopped dead, red-faced at the sight of me nude and straddling my knight. My maid turned around quick as a whip and announced in a squeaky voice, “I’ll wait in your dressing room.”
I turned back to Declan, naughty smile on my face. “Well, she walked in on quite a show.”
“Just wait until she cleans the oil spots on the comforter.”
“Oh, I dunno if I want her to clean it up.”
Declan furrowed his brow. “You want to leave that mess?”
I could almost see him controlling an eye twitch. It was too good of an opportunity not to tease my perfectionist. I shrugged a shoulder. “I thought maybe we could tell the other knights that you made me squirt.”
His look of disgust turned to one of mischief. “Quinn would hate that.”
“I know.”
“One problem. That oil smells like flowers.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Spoilsport. Oh! I know, we could tell them I asked Cerena to enchant my pussy.”
He rolled his eyes. “After the attack from Abbas, you insisted I take you to Cerena to enchant your—”
“Fine,” I sighed. That story was rotten. No one would ever believe it. I pouted. “Quinn would have gone along with it.”
Declan shook his head and pulled me into his arms. “You do have an enchanting pussy, Bloss. But I prefer not to have the other knights pissed at me. How about this … I promise I’ll make you squirt so your bed is that wet later?”
I sat up enough to see him. I tucked in my lips and waggled my head back and forth as if I was considering it. “Alright, I suppose that will have to do. After you teach me about the whip.” I climbed off the bed so I could get ready for day two of Queen Isla’s visit.
But Declan’s arm shot out and pulled me back to the side of the bed. “Peace, there won’t be any whips.”
“There won’t?”
“A few years ago, Ryan taught me a different way to control my anxiety.”
“Yeah?”
Declan sat up on the bed so he could whisper into my ear, “Sex.” Then he smacked my ass and pushed me toward the dressing room.
“What!” I screeched. “You can’t say that and just—”
“Time to get ready,” Declan stood and straightened his shirt, marching over to my looking glass to finger comb his hair.
Cerena’s bluebird fluttered backward, away from Declan.
I bit my thumb at Declan. “You bastard. That’s all I’m going to think about all day, now.”
His grin was so naughty that it was sarding adorable and I hated him for it. “I know,” he said cockily. “I want you desperate. So that when you finally get me alone, in some dark corner, you can’t help yourself.”
“I hope you have a panic attack,” I gritted out through my teeth as he strode to the door.
He winked before he strolled out the door. “If I do, I’ll let you take care of it!”
Chapter Eight
Connor had stayed up all night reviewing past treaties with Rasle.
He met me in the private royal breakfast salon with a tired grin. His curls were a disaster. I loved them. I went right over and tousled them before lightly touching the bags under his sea-green eyes.
“Why didn’t you tell me? I’d have stayed up with you and planned for this.”
“You were attacked and needed some rest,” he waved me off and poured himself some coffee imported from Lored, the tropical country to the south.
I sighed. “Well, next time, let me know at least.”
He mock saluted me, and I narrowed my eyes at him. “I’m serious, Connor. Until I can find someone else to take this damn crown and—”
“Wait. Take your crown?”
I grabbed a roll and sank into a chair, yanking the bread to bits and taking a bite.
Connor came and stood beside me, “Explain. I thought you were over this whole running away phase.”
“First of all, I’m awful at this job.”
“You’ve been at it a day! Of course, you’re awful!”
“Thank you,” I threw a chunk of bread at him.
“I meant anyone would be awful.”
“Secondly, I just meant I need a regent so I can help find Avia—”
“Quinn and Ryan are both working on finding her.”
“But I want to help.”
Connor cl
osed his eyes and sighed. “The best way you can help is doing your job as queen. That is something none of us can do.”
I put aside the rest of my bread. Connor’s words had turned my stomach. Instead, I grabbed his coffee out of his hand and drank. I had to resist spitting. “Ugh. This is awful.”
“No. It’s the nectar of the gods, and of sleepless souls everywhere.”
I made a face as I gulped more. “Tell me what I need to know for today.”
“Well, this afternoon, there’s to be a parade through Marscha. You and Isla will ride on a float through the main street of the capital.”
“No,” I groaned. Standing on a cart drawn by horses and decorated with ribbons all afternoon? Pretending to smile? I needed a regent to do those things for me.
“That was the good news,” Connor shuffled slightly backward.
“Sard. What the hell is the bad news, then?” I drank the last of the coffee, ignoring the bitter aftertaste. I’d need it to stay alert during the interactions with Isla ahead.
“We get to meet with Isla all morning to discuss fun items like the border towns of Singah and Jewl, which she claims are still part of Rasle. We get to discuss trading terms and tolls, though really, we’d need to bring to trolls in to discuss all of those in detail, so hopefully—” he ducked as I grabbed the remains of my roll and chucked it at him.
I felt like stomping my foot. I wasn’t ready for negotiation! Not with an experienced queen. Not even with a three-year-old, if I was honest. I was a torn-up wasteland inside. Which meant my head wasn’t where it needed to be.
I rubbed my forehead. “I think I’d rather Abbas bit me again.”
Connor’s lips thinned, and his hands clenched as he said, “You don’t mean that.”
I sighed, “Of course not.” I stood and grumbled, pouring myself more of Connor’s foul-tasting drink. “Tell me what our positions are. What do I say?”
I sat there and listened to Connor, learning my lines and hoping like hell I didn’t choke like the day prior.
It was only as we were leaving the salon that I remembered to ask, “What happened with that bird?”
Connor clapped a hand to his forehead. Then he mussed his dark curls. “Thank goodness you said something! I want that bird to come with us.”