by Jasmine Walt
The king’s booming laughter rang through the Keep’s halls. “Court her? That’s ridiculous. If it were me, I would have challenged my brothers to a duel, and the last man standing would have won the wench.”
“And I would have, if my competitors hadn’t also been my brothers,” Drystan said calmly, even as his hackles rose at the way his father had called Dareena “wench.” As if she were a servant, or a whore. “You’re the one who set the terms, Father. She’s to choose, so we are simply giving her an opportunity to make up her mind.”
The king rolled his eyes. “This is why I have a hard time believing any of you are worthy of wearing the crown. This commoner is nothing but a trophy and a broodmare. You should not elevate her to an importance beyond her station.”
Before Drystan could respond, Dareena rounded the corner and nearly ran into both men. “Your Highnesses,” she said quickly, dipping into a curtsy. Her eyes were lowered to the ground, but Drystan caught the flash of hurt in them. Had she heard what his father had said?
“My lady,” Drystan said, inclining his head in return. He wished that she would look up at him so he could attempt to convey how sorry he was for his father’s harsh words, but instead she moved past them both and continued down the long, decorated hall, her shoulders stiff and her spine ramrod straight.
Damn. He would have to apologize later.
“Well, well,” his father said as she vanished from sight, “it seems that she will make a fine wife after all. The wench certainly knows how to look pretty and stay out of business. Let’s hope she remembers how to do so when one of you finally becomes king.”
20
“What an ass,” Dareena fumed as she paced back and forth in her room. Tears of humiliation and anger stung her eyes—she could still see the look on the king’s face when she’d run into him and Drystan in the hall, as if she were nothing but a piece of meat. She’d been coming back from the kitchens after grabbing a bite to eat, and now she desperately wished she’d never left her room.
A trophy and a broodmare, the king had called her.
And so what if he did? a nasty voice in her head sneered. Isn’t that exactly what you would have been as the innkeeper’s wife? How is this any different?
Dareena clenched her jaw. The only difference between being Mr. Harrin’s wife and the Dragon’s Gift was that she got to wear fancier dresses and sleep in a feather bed. In the end, she existed only to serve the pleasure of her husband—her own needs and desires came second.
She might have a choice in which of the princes was to be that husband, but the cage remained the same. What did it matter which one she chose? She might as well draw straws, just as the princes had when they’d been squabbling over which one would take her out first. Wasn’t this all just a game, in the end? For all of them?
A knock on the door interrupted her pity party. “Dareena?” Drystan called. “Are you in there?”
“It’s my day off, Drystan,” she called back angrily. “Leave me alone.”
There was a long pause. “I didn’t come to harass you,” Drystan said. “I came to apologize.”
The pain in his voice melted some of Dareena’s anger, and she crossed the room to let him in. His face was grave as he shut the door behind him, then gently took her into his arms.
“You’ve been crying,” he said quietly, tracing the tear track on her cheek with his thumb. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for you to get hurt.”
“I know you didn’t.” Dareena turned away from his tender gaze—she couldn’t bear to look at him right now. “It’s just…you let your father talk about me as if I were a piece of trash.”
“Let?” Drystan let out a harsh laugh. “Dareena, one doesn’t ‘let’ the king do anything. He does what he likes, and crushes anyone who attempts to stand in his way. Let him have his petty words. They don’t matter. You know that I don’t think you’re just a trophy. None of us do.”
“I know.” Dareena turned back to Drystan and laid a hand on his cheek. His beard prickled against her palm, a rough but pleasant sensation. “It’s just…this is frustrating for me. I like all three of you. How am I supposed to choose? I know we still have two more weeks…but that just doesn’t seem like enough time.”
“It’s all we have,” Drystan said softly. He ran a hand gently over Dareena’s hair, then tucked a lock behind her ear. “I know that Lucyan tried to pass off Father’s comment about marrying you as a joke…but I’m not entirely sure he wouldn’t, if you didn’t choose one of us.”
Dareena recoiled in horror. “He couldn’t possibly. That’s sacrilegious, isn’t it?”
Drystan’s lips twisted into a mockery of a smile. “There isn’t anything specifically forbidding it,” he said. “Which is what I’m sure my father would say if anyone protested. I would like to think he wouldn’t do such a thing, but these past few years…he hasn’t been himself, Dareena. Not since Mother died.”
“Oh.” Dareena’s indignation faded a bit at the sadness she glimpsed in Drystan’s eyes. “That must have been very hard on you.”
“It was hard on all of us,” Drystan said tightly. “But hard on Father the most. He believes the elves are responsible for Mother’s death.”
“Is that why we are at war?”
Drystan sighed. “There are many reasons one goes to war.”
“That’s not an answer.”
Drystan scraped a hand over his beard. “I don’t have any answers for you, Dareena. Not where my father is concerned. Someday, I will be strong enough to challenge him, but until that day comes, we must all bend the knee. There is no telling what my father will do if any one of us defies him—his moods are as capricious as the wind. You saw him that day in the audience chamber—he indulged Alistair and Lucyan in their proposal to allow you to choose, but he could just as well have swung the other way. Every time we challenge or negotiate with him, we’re taking a great risk.”
Dareena nodded. “I understand,” she said, and she really did. Drystan and his brothers weren’t happy with the king, but until they knew they had a chance at winning, they could not openly challenge his rule. For Drystan to tell her this, when just talking about overthrowing the king was tantamount to treason…
“Thank you,” she said, taking his hand in hers, “for trusting me enough to tell me the truth.”
Drystan smiled, then raised her hand so he could kiss her knuckles. The sensation of his warm lips on her skin sent a tiny shiver through her. “I should go now,” he said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Wait.” Dareena grabbed his wrist as he turned away. “Don’t go. Stay with me awhile.”
Drystan frowned. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea. If my brothers found out that I spent time with you when it isn’t my day, they would flay me alive.”
“My evenings are still my own,” Dareena said firmly, pulling him closer. “If I wish to spend this one with one of you, that is my prerogative.”
Drystan laughed. “Very well,” he said, circling Dareena’s waist with his big hands. “And how exactly do you wish to spend the rest of this evening?”
Dareena’s eyes twinkled. “The way I spend most evenings,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck. “In bed.”
She kissed Drystan deeply, and he growled against her mouth as he scooped her up, happy to oblige. Lips fused, he carried her to the bed, and they fell on the mattress together, hands roaming over each other’s bodies. Drystan found the ties to Dareena’s bodice and managed to make short work of it—he yanked her dress until it was down around her hips, baring her breasts to his glowing amber eyes.
“Oh, yes,” he said, rearing back so that he could gaze at her half-naked form. He cupped one of her breasts in his left hand. “You have beautiful breasts. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve fantasized about finally seeing them.”
Dareena blushed beneath his intense regard. He scraped the pad of his thumb across her nipple, and she moaned, arching into his touch. “Sensitive, too,” he murmure
d, cupping the other breast. “All the better for me.”
“What are you—” Dareena began to ask as he dipped his head down, then she moaned when he flicked his tongue over her other nipple. The sensation made her pussy clench with need, and she squirmed beneath him when he did it again. She slid her hands into his dark hair as he feasted on one breast while massaging the other, holding him close so that he wouldn’t stop. She had no idea that playing with her breasts could feel so good—she had always thought they were just for feeding babies, and for men to look at.
And why wouldn’t they be for your pleasure too? They’re part of your body, aren’t they?
“Drystan,” Dareena moaned when she finally couldn’t take it anymore. “Please…” She grabbed the hand on her breast and guided it between her legs. “Touch me here.”
“A woman who knows what she wants.” Drystan lifted his head, his handsome face alight with a pleased grin. “I like that. But I can do much better, my lady.”
He pulled the rest of her dress off, along with her underwear, leaving her completely naked. Dareena expected him to cup her between her legs, as Lucyan had done, but instead he lowered his mouth to her breast, then began to kiss and lick a path down her belly. Each touch and caress of his lips and tongue sent little thrills of pleasure through Dareena, heightening the anticipation. She watched through hooded eyes as Drystan nibbled on the skin just above her hip bones, then nudged her legs wider.
“What are you doing?” Dareena asked as he hooked her knees over his powerful shoulders. It was strange to see him kneeling before her naked body while he was fully clothed. Shouldn’t he be naked as well?
“This,” Drystan said, leaning in. He dragged his hot tongue across her wet folds, and Dareena cried out, hips arching into his mouth. Drystan slid his hands beneath her bottom, his strong fingers digging into the rounded globes of her ass as he licked and sucked at her pussy in earnest. His skilled tongue quickly found her sweet spot, and the next thing she knew she was flying, just like she had when she’d pressed Lucyan’s hand between her legs.
Except this time, she did not merely fly once. Dareena thought he would put her down after this, but he kept on licking until another tsunami of pleasure crashed down on her, and another. She was certain the entire castle could hear as she moaned Drystan’s name out loud, over and over again, but she didn’t give a damn. All she cared about was the way he made her feel. As if, at this very moment, they were the only two people in the world, standing together in the eye of a wonderful storm that she hoped would never end.
“I love the way you say my name,” Drystan panted when he finally lifted his head. His mouth and beard glistened as he looked at her with those glowing eyes—it was one of the sexiest things Dareena had ever seen. “I want you to say it again, with my cock buried deep inside you.”
“Yes.” Dareena reached for him. “Take off your clothes,” she demanded, tugging on his tunic belt.
She sat back to watch as Drystan stripped for her, revealing the big, muscular body she’d fantasized about on more than one occasion. His physique was even more defined than she’d thought, his arms and legs thick with corded muscle, and his broad chest and abs were covered with a fine dusting of black hair.
But it was his cock that truly held her attention, long and thick, with a glistening head that seemed to beg for her attention. Transfixed, Dareena reached for it, wrapping her fingers around his girth. Drystan groaned a little as she glided her fingers up and down, familiarizing herself with it. She’d seen cocks before but had never had the chance to touch one until now.
“It’s hard and soft at the same time,” she murmured, sliding her thumb over the tip, which was wet. “Like a sword wrapped in silk.”
Drystan choked out a laugh. “That’s one way to put it.” He gently pulled her hand away. “I don’t want you to play with it too much,” he said when she began to protest. “At least not yet.”
Dareena let him guide her back down to the bed. Her heart beat faster as he nudged her legs apart, then took his cock into his hand and gently rubbed the tip against her folds. “So wet,” he murmured, his gaze transfixed as he coated himself in her juices. “You’re ready, aren’t you?”
Dareena nodded. She had thought she might feel guilty, as she had with Lucyan the other night, but the truth was, she needed to do this. The sexual tension she felt when she was with the brothers was clouding her judgment and making it too hard to choose between them. Having sex with all three of them would help get that out of the way so she could focus on what really mattered—their personalities.
“This might be a little uncomfortable for you at first,” Drystan warned. “But I’m going to try and get you past that as quickly as I can. Do you trust me?”
“Yes,” Dareena breathed. She watched as Drystan pressed the tip of his cock against her sweet spot, and she instinctively arched into him, rubbing herself against his hard length. He rocked his hips forward a little, creating more friction, and Dareena moaned, feeling herself get even wetter. Her pussy ached with the need to have him fill her, to bring her the sweet relief she’d been craving since the day he’d kissed her in the carriage.
“Yes,” he growled, pulling back as she rocked her hips in earnest. “You’re ready.”
He surged into her without warning, breaking her hymen in one swift, decisive stroke. Dareena cried out as she felt something give inside her with a quick flash of pain. She dug her fingers into Drystan’s shoulders and held on tight as he filled her to the brim.
“Shhh.” Drystan held his hips very still as he reached between them. “It will get better in a moment. I promise.”
His fingers quickly found her sweet spot again, and he stroked her gently, making her forget all about the brief pain as pleasure filled her again. After a few moments, Dareena arched her hips into his hand, and they both groaned as Drystan slid even deeper inside her.
“You’re so tight,” he gasped, his forehead pressed against hers. “So tight and wet. It’s incredible.” He pulled out a little, then gently sank back in.
“Yes,” Dareena moaned, sliding her hands down his back so she could grip his muscled ass. “More.” She rocked her hips, back and forth, back and forth, reveling in the feeling of his cock sliding in and out of her. The way he stretched and filled her was both satisfying and maddening, each stroke bringing her closer to fulfillment, and yet not nearly close enough.
“Come for me,” he growled, quickening his strokes. “You’re close. I can feel your pussy getting tighter.” He kissed her deeply, thrusting hard, and Dareena screamed into his mouth as she tumbled headlong into the most intense orgasm she’d ever experienced.
“Yes,” Drystan howled triumphantly. He fucked her harder, faster, heightening her orgasm and then sending her straight into another one. All Dareena could do was hold on for dear life as he rode her, the bed shaking beneath them as he pounded into her. His face was taut with strain, teeth bared, tanned skin glistening in the lamplight. Instinct drove her to wrap her legs around his waist, and she squeezed hard with her inner walls, driving him over the edge.
“Dareena,” he roared as his hot seed gushed inside her. Dareena watched in awe as his big body trembled, as his features grew even more taut and then finally relaxed into the most blissful expression she’d ever seen. He collapsed, then immediately rolled onto his side, gathering her into his arms.
“Wow.” She pressed her ear to his damp chest, listening to his thundering heartbeat. A deep satisfaction swept through her, and suddenly she felt languorous. “That was incredible.”
“You were incredible,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. She snuggled in tight against him, and as they both drifted off to sleep, she wondered if any of the other brothers could possibly top this.
21
When Drystan left Dareena’s rooms later that night, he felt as if he were flying. He’d actually done it! He’d been the first of his brothers to make love to the Dragon’s Gift. Pride surged through hi
m as he remembered how she’d moaned with pleasure, scoring his back with her sharp little nails as she came. What a delightful vixen she was. He was certain that she would be coming back for more, and that at the end of the three weeks, his father would proclaim him heir.
Part of him wanted to shake his brothers awake and crow to the rooftops about what he’d accomplished, but Drystan wasn’t childish enough to give in to such an urge. Besides, his brothers would take the news better if they had some sleep first. But as Drystan was passing Alistair’s rooms on the way to his own, he heard voices coming from beneath his brother’s door.
“I can’t believe Father did this,” Lucyan muttered, and Drystan frowned. Lucyan rarely visited Alistair in his quarters, especially not late at night. What was going on? “He truly is going mad.”
“Are you certain he’s going to prosecute?” Alistair asked. “That he isn’t just throwing Shadley into the dungeons to teach him a lesson?”
“I saw the look in Father’s eyes.” That was Tariana, her voice as grim as Drystan’s mood was becoming. The afterglow dropped away as he remembered the council meeting—Dareena’s sweet curves and luscious mouth had made him forget poor Shadley’s predicament. “He means to kill the spymaster.”
Drystan pushed the door open. “She’s right,” he announced as the others turned to him with surprise. “And we cannot simply stand by and let it happen. We must do something to help Shadley.”
“Break the rules, brother?” Lucyan arched an eyebrow. “I never thought the day would come when you would openly defy Father.”
Drystan dropped into one of Alistair’s chairs, right next to his youngest brother. “Desperate times require desperate measures,” he said with a sigh. “Shadley has done nothing wrong—we cannot let him go to the gallows.”
“We will have to resc—” Alistair cut himself off, his eyes narrowing. He leaned toward Drystan, his nostrils flaring as he drew in a deep breath. “You…” His face slacked. “You smell like sex.”