by Mina Carter
He glowered, making a nearby guest squeak and scuttle away. It was enough to make a man run for the hills, or in this case, the nearest door. He didn’t run, though. Instead, he motioned one of the circling waiters over and snagged another glass of champagne from the tray he carried, downing it in one gulp.
He couldn’t run. Cadeyra had made it very clear that he had to attend this ball and behave. That meant nodding and smiling through inane conversations with ambitious fathers and subjecting himself to the twittering offspring of gold-digging mamas. And there were definitely more of the latter, something he suspected his cousin of orchestrating. When they’d arrived, with Calan as the queen’s official escort since he was her nearest male relative, she’d leaned in and whispered, “Arranged marriage. Don’t think I wouldn’t.”
He sighed. The pushy bitch would pull that on him. He just knew she would. Snagging another drink, he looked around the room, trying to see if any of the women caught his eye. Instead, he spotted Sawyer, Cadeyra’s self-appointed bodyguard for the evening, looking as pissed off as he felt himself.
The big general had stationed himself just behind the tiny queen, his eyes constantly moving as he assessed each and every person for a possible threat to the woman he protected. With an aura of danger wreathing him like a cape, no one could mistake him for anything other than what he was—lethal. As Calan watched, his cousin laughed at something someone in the group she was talking to had said and turned away, tucking her hand around Sawyer’s arm, even though he hadn’t extended it. The male flicked a glance down, and just for a moment his mask slipped. Under it was all the heat and possessiveness of a man who’d found his woman.
Shiiiit, that was the lay of the land, was it? Calan blinked to himself as Sawyer looked up, his expression instantly shuttered again, but it didn’t matter. He knew, and Sawyer knew, what he’d seen. Sawyer wanted Cadeyra, badly. Whether he’d act on that, Calan didn’t know, but he made a mental note to have a chat with the other male before too long.
Forcing himself not to glare and watch the two, he looked around the rest of the room, checking for the other members of the council. Half weren’t here, with three on duty and three on leave for a week.
Of those present, Alex and Saul had stationed themselves by the door. Two dragons that were almost as close as twins, they did everything together. Calan didn’t envy the woman who ended up mating either… that wouldn’t be an easy journey, not at all. His attention switched to the remaining two.
As usual, Nikolai stalked Adra subtly. The only female of the twelve, she was a constant source of fascination. Most of them, even Calan himself, had admitted to thoughts of what it would be like to be with another black. Those thoughts usually lasted up to the point of training with Adra, where they died a swift death. The female was grace and lethality rolled into one compact package, with a hair trigger temper to boot. Seeing her in action generally killed any lustful thoughts…
Except for Nikolai. He’d had a thing for the slender female since the moment he’d set eyes on her, and he made no bones about his pursuit. So far though, she hadn’t given in… but he did notice every so often she slowed her walk to double-check Nik was still following. Calan hid his grin. Perhaps tonight would be the male’s night.
He hoped so because it sure as hell wouldn’t be his. So far none of the “eligible” young women had aroused any hint of interest within him or his dragon, but Countess Klein had been eyeing him over the edge of her fan all evening. So perhaps it wasn’t a total bust. A night of passion with the very lusty dragoness would definitely put him in a better mood for whatever plans his cousin had in mind for him.
Then it happened. The crowd parted before him, giving him a clear view of the door on the other side of the room, and he saw her.
Poised on the top step of three leading down to the dance floor was a small woman. A deep violet gown wrapped around her slender figure lovingly. The off-the-shoulder straps highlighted the delicate fragility of her shoulders and collarbones while the demure neckline hinting at the swell of her breasts was far more alluring than the almost to the navel low-cut gowns of some of the other female guests. His gaze dipped lower, appreciating the small span of her waist and the flare of surprisingly full hips given her delicate stature. Small hands gathered the full skirt at the front, a tiny foot encased in a silver shoe emerging as she prepared to step down.
Almost as if she sensed him watching, she paused and looked up, meeting his gaze. He sucked a hard breath in. She was… stunning. Her face was small and heart-shaped with wide, cat-set violet eyes, a small nose and bee-stung lips. Her makeup was light, her hair swept up in riotous curls to frame the perfection of her face and he frowned. He’d seen her before, but where?
Her expression was startled, like a rabbit in the headlights, and in the next breath she was gone, the crowds that had parted to give him a glimpse of her moving into place again. Biting back the roar of frustration that rolled up from his dragon within, Calan ditched his empty glass on a nearby table and plowed his way through the masses on the crowded dance floor. He had to find her, now. Just one glimpse wasn’t enough… it would never be enough.
Reaching the steps, he looked around, catching sight of the sweep of purple skirts and then was off again, his dragon alive with the thrill of the chase. Her scent hung in the air laced with the smell of freesias, tormenting him even as it made it easier for him to track her. A little. She led him on a merry dance around the ballroom, as swift and slippery as any opponent he’d ever faced. Minutes later, almost back where he’d started, he reached the spot he’d last seen her and realized the impossible. She’d given him the slip.
“Fuck it!” he hissed. “Where the hell did you go, princess?”
But then, as he turned again, he saw her. Standing to one side of the dance floor, she watched the dancers with fascination, her pale, jewel-like gaze enraptured.
Mine, the primal male part of him growled, and he stalked toward her. Before he’d crossed half the distance between them, she looked around and saw him. Her eyes widened but there was nowhere for her to go. To her credit, she didn’t panic or try to run. Instead she just curved the corner of her lip up in a small smile and watched him approach.
Clever, sweetheart, he mentally congratulated her. Never run from a predator. It just excites us… excites me.
He didn’t talk when he reached her, didn’t trust himself to not just tell her outright that she was his. Because she was. She had been as soon as he’d spotted her across the hall, and he would have her… whatever it took. Instead, he simply held out his hand in a silent request.
No, not a request. An order. A demand.
Her gaze flicked from his face down to his hand and back, as though debating whether to take his hand or not. His dragon roared with impatience but he schooled himself to remain perfectly in place. She was his, yes, but he wasn’t an animal—despite what lurked beneath his skin. She had to come to him… to give herself willingly.
A small sigh escaped her lips and he felt more than saw the surrender reflected in her pale eyes, as if the world around him had suddenly shifted on its axis. Her small fingers slid into his, the chaste brush of skin on skin the most erotic thing he’d felt in his life, stealing his breath even as he tightened his grip.
Pulling her closer, he turned her at the last moment to lead her out onto the dance floor. The crowds parted easily before him, a small bubble of space forming around them as he reached the center of the floor and, finally, pulled her into his arms. A small groan fought to free itself from his throat. She fit against him, her slender figure nestled against his bigger, harder form like she’d been made to be there. His dragon growled again, a sound echoed by every male instinct he had as his body flared to life, cock hard and heavy in his pants. He fought the urge to find the nearest flat surface and make her his there and then.
Closing his eyes for a second, he brought himself under control with an iron will honed over decades of service on the council. The musi
c started, saving him, and he opened them to lead her into the first steps of the dance.
4
She should have said no. Saskia knew that, but the instant the duke of Vacossin had locked eyes with her, she’d been lost.
At first, panic swelled. What if he’d recognized her? A sweet smile for the footmen at the door had allowed her entry, and the herald had likewise been easy to get around with a demure murmur about being late and not wanting to cause any fuss. She’d also managed to avoid her stepmother and stepsisters. That part had been easy. Goranka and her two girls were loud and raucous. All Saskia had to do was avoid the noise, and given that none of the three looked past the effect they had on their immediate circle, they wouldn’t see her hidden in the crowds.
But Calan had. Not only that, but he’d homed in on her within seconds of her entering the hall. It had taken all of Saskia’s abilities to stay a step ahead of him for as long as she had. Within minutes, though, he’d tracked her down to a corner of the ballroom, half hidden behind a pillar and some potted plants. Assuming his hard expression was because he knew who she was and was about to have her kicked out, she’d offered him a small smile even as she quaked in her delicate silver slippers and prayed for the ground to open up and swallow her.
But he hadn’t…kicked her out, that was.
Instead, he’d held out a hand silently, an order backed up by the flare of his dragon in his eyes. His scent had surrounded her—the dry, hot, woodsy scent of his dragon mixed with cologne and clean linen. As soon as it hit her senses, she’d had to bite back a moan, not remembering when a man had smelled so good before. Something turned over in her chest, wanting to roll and stretch out, cat-like, to rub against this big male and claim him as her own.
She hadn’t, thank all that was holy. Managing to keep it together, she’d merely placed her hand in his and allowed him to lead her out onto the dance floor, her head held high in the picture perfect image of a properly brought up lady.
Big mistake. As soon as the music started and he began to move, sweeping her up into a close hold, she realized two things. One, he could dance… like really dance… and two, the feel of his big, muscled body moving against her did things to her that should be illegal. Had to be illegal, surely? There was no way the feelings running through her at his touch weren’t breaking a ton of laws…
They approached the edge of the floor and he turned her effortlessly, a complex set of steps that had his thigh sliding between hers to control and guide her as her skirts swished and flared with the movement. Clinging to him with a small gasp, she looked up to find him watching her, his green-gold gaze dark with heat and something else. She wasn’t experienced with men. Goranka never let her out of sight long enough to build a friendship with anyone, never mind anything else. But she wasn’t so naive that she didn’t recognize lust on a man’s face.
Her little shiver made his nostrils flare and his eyes darkened even further. Before she realized what he was about, he’d turned her again in the steps of the dance, but this time they didn’t swirl back onto the dance floor. Instead, he turned her the other way, dancing her right through a doorway that hadn’t been there before and into another room.
She gasped, looking around as he pulled away, to see they were in a large, book lined study. The flash of magic around the door when she turned back told her everything she needed to know.
“You transported us here?” she asked, not backing up. She held his gaze as he stalked toward her. “I didn’t think that was allowed in the palace.” There was that, and the fact that for most dragons such a spell would be impossible, the power required well out of reach.
He shrugged, a little smile playing at the corner of his lips. “It isn’t, but… let’s say there are some advantages to being the queen’s cousin.”
Saskia blinked and tried to back up a step, but he easily followed her, snagging her around the waist in a lightning fast movement to bring them close again.
“There are more advantages?” she asked breathily and then almost kicked herself. Way to go for sounding… scales, she didn’t know what she sounded like. Certainly not how she normally did anyway.
“Oh, yes.” Her fingers curled in the lapels of his jacket as he walked her backward until the back of her hips met the edge of something solid. The desk. “Rooms… a suite… in the palace. Wealth enough to provide for the woman I take as my bride. A title, several actually… this office…”
She frowned as he ticked through the benefits.
“But… you’re also a black, aren’t you? That means you… that you have to put yourself in danger a lot. Is all this worth that? Worth the danger?” she whispered, her heart clenching at the thought of him fighting feral dragons and wyverns. There were so many stories about the blacks and the dangers they faced. Fear filled her at the thought of him hurt, or worse, dying…
“Oh yes, sweetheart, it’s worth it.”
His voice was low as he reached up to stroke a strong finger under her chin. It was the barest touch, a gentle brush of skin on skin, but she obeyed instantly and lifted her lips to his. He claimed them with a low rumble in the back of his throat, mouth moving over hers in the briefest caress. “It means I get to protect beautiful ladies like you.”
She sucked a breath in at the compliment, the air shuddering between them over her lips. He thought she was beautiful? She didn’t get a chance to ask the question because his mouth claimed hers again. This time, though, his caress wasn’t soft or gentle.
As soon as his lips locked to hers, he deepened the kiss. Sweeping a hard tongue against the closed seam of her lips, he pried them apart to delve within. She moaned against his mouth, the hot, slick slide of his tongue seeking hers and sending fire racing through her veins. An innocent, she might never have been kissed before, but there were some things that were so instinctive, so deeply ingrained in the feminine part of her soul that she knew what to do.
Kissing him back, she wound her arms around his neck and slid her tongue against his, then away. Teasing him, making him chase her. He growled, his hold tightening as though by crushing her against him he could capture and take what she kept from him. She allowed him to capture her briefly and sank into his embrace with a liquid moan before she teased again.
He growled, hand sliding up her back to drive into her hair, scattering pins placed there by her ghostly godmother and sending her dark curls tumbling down over her shoulders. Holding her head still, he dominated the embrace, the kiss turning so hot and torrid she was surprised they didn’t burst into flames there and then.
“You are…” He broke away, kissing along her jaw to find her neck. She whimpered, liquid heat flooding her body as he nuzzled under her ear and then nipped at her earlobe. “…the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I had to have you the moment I saw you… be mine?”
He pulled away to look down into her eyes and she felt something deep within twist and lock, settling into place with a sense of such rightness that she knew this was meant to be. But even so, a thrill of nervousness rolled through her, translated into movement as a shiver rolled over her skin.
“I want to…” she said softly, her hands gripping the edges of his dress jacket as though they were a lifeline. “But I’ve never—”
He started, pulling back to look down at her in surprise. Then heat flared again, turning his eyes almost black, the color of his dragon. “You’ve never? You’re a—” His voice was raspy and low as he paused. “You’re a virgin?”
“Yeah.” Heat flared over her cheeks as she looked up at him. Panic rolled through her. Should she have admitted that? Would he be disappointed at her lack of experience?
Sure, they were moving fast but tonight was all she had. Who knew when Goranka would let her out again…and she wanted something to remember, to hold close all the nights she was huddled up on her small pallet in the cold workroom. Something to keep her warm, even just emotionally rather than physically. Goranka refused to light a fire in the room, saying that if Saski
a wasn’t so pathetic, she’d be able to use her dragon to keep herself warm. Why should she be forced to pay out because Saskia couldn’t?
“But I’m a quick learner,” she assured him hurriedly, reaching up onto her tiptoes to press her lips against his. “You won’t notice, I promise.”
“Fuck that!” He snarled and she quailed, trying to pull back, but he held her tightly, a shudder running through his big body. “I want to notice… You’re… no man has ever… are you sure you want to give this gift to me?”
His words and expression were full of reverence and awe as he brushed the back of his fingers gently against her cheek. “Make no mistake, princess. I might be a nobleman, but I’m no gentleman. If you don’t say no now, I will take you… I’m not going to pander to your feelings and check before I do anything. I’m going to strip this beautiful gown from you until you stand naked before me. Then I’m going to kiss you, touch you, and fuck you. Is that what you want?”
His words made her shiver, heat building in her lower body and her pussy clenching hard. She knew the feeling, the tension, from when she touched herself, made herself come… but the thought of someone else, him, doing that… doing more, made her feel hot and feverish inside.
“Yes. I want that.”
His expression was hard as he stepped back to look down at her. Lifting a hand, he turned her in a twirl not unlike a dance move, but stopped her halfway, pulling her back against his hard body.
“Good. Because I don’t think I could have let you out of the door if you’d said no,” he admitted in a raw voice as his hands encircled her waist. They were so large they nearly went all the way around, and then he slid them up slowly, kissing her neck as he did so. She jumped and then sighed softly as he cupped her bust. She was small and slight, but he didn’t seem to mind, a growl rumbling in the big chest against her back.