by K. L. Thorne
Her silver hair was piled up into an elegant bun, exposing her long, beautiful neck. The entirety of her back was bare and her wings fluttered softly. Haros eyed the smooth expanse of flesh keenly. The princess’s gown glittered brighter than the explosions above them and pooled around her feet like molten gold.
The demon cleared his throat and Sivelle turned. When she realised it was him, she smiled, and Haros’s heart stopped in his chest.
He had never seen a woman so beautiful. The back of her dress had been stunning, but the front… Haros was certain he had growled audibly.
Though the dress had long sleeves, its neckline plunged so tantalisingly low, Sivelle’s creamy flesh seemed to be on the verge of spilling from it. As if that hadn’t been enough, the cock-tease of a dress also had a split running the length of the skirt, right the way up to her hip. Haros shuddered.
Sivelle’s elegant face was painted into a picture of beauty. Her dark lashes looked impossibly long and those plump lips had been stained a deep, sexy crimson.
Other than the subtle tiara that sparkled amongst her silver curls, the princess was wearing no jewellery. Haros was sure there would be no gemstone in Hestaesia beautiful enough for the job – she would have put them all to shame.
“Ah, you’re finally back. I wasn’t sure I would get to see you before we had to leave.” Sivelle’s smile was dazzling.
“Wow. You look…” Haros trailed off. There was no word to describe just how gorgeous she was.
Sivelle smiled shyly and twirled a loose curl around her finger self-consciously. “Oh, well – thank you. What’s that?” she asked. Her eyes dropped to the wine bottle in Haros’s hands, sparkling with interest.
“Oh, yes. Happy Birthday.” Haros coughed and strode forward to join the princess on the balcony, trying his best to ignore his hammering heart.
He’d had a whole speech prepared, had planned how the evening would go… but his brain seemed to have turned to mulch. He handed the bottle to Sivelle, like a lad would give his favourite teacher an apple.
The princess took the bottle from him and a moment passed before her eyes widened with surprise.
“How did you get this?!”
“I called in some favours with the kitchen staff.”
“I can’t believe it! The vineyard this wine was made at burnt down decades ago. We thought we’d bought up the last of it. It’s my favourite – oh, I could kiss you!” She beamed and rolled the bottle over in her hands to look at the label.
“Please do…” Haros muttered under his breath.
“Pardon?”
“I said would you like a glass?” Haros lied, holding up the crystal flute glasses. “You’ve got time for a drink before you head down there, haven’t you?”
“I’ll make time.” Sivelle smiled.
“Here, let me.” Haros took the bottle from her hands and expertly popped the cork from the neck with a bang. The wine had a delicate fizz that he hadn’t been expecting but it seemed appropriate, given the lavishness of the whole evening.
Placing both glasses carefully on the stone wall, Haros poured out two helpings before setting the bottle down on a nearby table. He picked up both glasses and handed one to Sivelle.
The princess shot him another incredible smile that sent his pulse into overdrive. Never had he been so attracted to someone; it was frightening. He swallowed, eager to ease his dry mouth with the wine.
“Cheers!” Sivelle held up her glass and Haros tapped his own gently against it.
“Happy Birthday, sweetheart.”
For once, Sivelle didn’t protest against his pet name, just raised the glass to take a sip eagerly. Her eyes fluttered closed and she moaned as the sweet wine hit her lips.
Haros didn’t want to admit the feelings her reaction elicited in him. He turned away and looked out across the city of Awrelwood. Fireworks continued to sparkle in the night sky.
“Are you looking forward to this evening?”
“Hardly,” Sivelle scoffed and took another sip from her glass. She gazed up into the sky once more, her beautiful face turning suddenly sombre.
“Are you missing your sisters?” Haros asked gently.
“More than I could say. I had never even considered they wouldn’t be here this evening to celebrate with me.”
“At least you know they’re safe now. I know it doesn’t make it any better that they’re not here tonight, but I’m sure they’re raising a glass to you back in Banesteppe.”
“I just wish we were all celebrating in Banesteppe. I’d infinitely prefer that over having them back here with me.”
Haros’s eyebrows rose. Now that was a surprise. He had always assumed Sivelle was happy here, locked in her ivory tower, but was miserable because she was missing her sisters. It seemed Lori and Faye weren’t the only ones who had dreamt of escape.
“The wine in Banesteppe isn’t a patch on this stuff.”
Sivelle sighed. “I’d give it all up to be with them again.”
“It’s a shame I can’t join you tonight. I would have made sure you enjoyed yourself,” Haros said, trying to change the subject to something a little more light-hearted.
“Now that I don’t doubt.” Sivelle smirked and sipped her wine.
“You really do look phenomenal,” he grated, eyeing her hungrily. Sivelle stared back at him with a flush of embarrassment tinging her cheeks.
“It’s not actually my dress, it’s Lori’s.” The princess looked down at herself and smoothed the material over her hip.
“I disagree. It may have been bought for Lori, but that’s your dress. There’s no doubt about it,” Haros growled.
Sivelle hastily drained her wine glass in one large gulp and evaded his gaze. Haros collected the bottle and poured the princess another glass before topping up his own.
They both stood in silence. The atmosphere between them was heavy with unspoken words and unfulfilled desire.
Sivelle drank deeply from her replenished glass and Haros licked his lips, desperately wracking his brain for a way to express himself without overstepping the mark.
“Thank you for the wine. It was really thoughtful,” Sivelle said, finally breaking the tension.
Haros took one last sip from his glass for courage before leaning across towards the princess. He moved quickly, so she wouldn’t have time to shy away, and placed a soft kiss against her cheek.
The princess stilled, blinking with surprise.
“…I hope you don’t mind that I—”
“N-no. That was…” Sivelle spluttered and stared out across the city nightscape vacantly.
Another long pause, laden with tension, enveloped them.
“…Can I do it again?” Haros asked.
Sivelle nodded “Yes. Please.”
The demon pressed his lips against her soft, warm cheek once more, lingering a little before pulling away. Sivelle remained frozen in place, holding her breath.
The third time, he didn’t ask her permission. Haros leant in again slowly and deliberately misplaced his kiss so it landed almost at the corner of Sivelle’s mouth.
He took a tentative step forwards and his heart sped up when she didn’t move herself away from him. Their bodies turned to face one another.
Haros stooped a little to gently cup Sivelle’s face in his hands. He ran the pad of his thumb over her bottom lip, and Sivelle parted them obediently for him.
A shudder ripped through his tall frame and Haros stepped closer still, until his body almost pressed against hers.
“Fuck, Sivelle, I really want to kiss you,” he hissed with his eyes rivetted to her crimson lips.
“Yes,” she whispered and her own eyes dipped to his mouth in return.
Whenever Haros had dreamt up elaborate fantasises about being intimate with Sivelle, he had always imagined taking his time with her. He knew the princess was inexperienced and nervous and had decided to endeavour to be as gentle and patient as he was able until he eased her into it.
Th
e reality was very different.
Haros crushed his lips against hers hungrily and delved his tongue forwards into her mouth. Sivelle whimpered against him, but a hot bolt of arousal shot down Haros’s spine as the princess took a firm fistful of his shirt.
He pinned her against the cold stone and devoured her. There was nothing else in the world for that brief moment. All of his pent-up lust and desire came coursing from him.
Haros groaned, a noise like he had never made before, when Sivelle tentatively brushed her tongue against his. His abdomen tightened with need and his hands dropped from her face, landing at her tiny waist before swiftly sliding around to squeeze her bottom.
He ripped his mouth from hers, just in time to hear her gasp, and latched onto the soft, pale throat that he had been admiring all night. He trailed hot kisses down the length.
Sivelle’s nails bit into his skin as her hold on him tightened, and he squeezed her in return.
Haros stooped to trace frantic kisses all across her collarbones before eagerly dipping to the exposed curve of her breasts.
A quiet, needy moan escaped her, and Haros felt his brows knit in a grimace of pleasure. Sivelle’s chest heaved breathlessly against his mouth and she shuddered as he dipped his tongue briefly into the cleft of her cleavage. He groaned against her, continuing to kiss all over her exposed chest.
His hand slipped away from her behind to hunt through the folds of the dress for the start of that sexy split. If he could just—
“Your Highness! I’m so sorry I’m late. There was an emergency!” Mivian called out from the bedroom.
Sivelle and Haros sprang apart.
Haros’s heart was hammering, swiftly pumping more and more blood away from his brain and into a far less useful organ. The demon swiped a hand down his sweaty face. He couldn’t think straight. He grabbed his glass and downed the entire contents in one gulp before turning away to pour out another helping. His hand was shaking.
Sivelle frantically smoothed her hands over her dress and looked out at the city once more, attempting to feign nonchalance. The princess was gasping for breath as if she had just run a mile. Mivian joined them on the balcony, oblivious to her intrusion.
“Come, Princess. We really need to get going. Our guard escorts are waiting just outside. They said they knocked several times, but I guess you must not have heard them over the fireworks.”
The handmaiden jumped back with surprise as Sivelle hastily spun on her heel and charged into the bedroom.
“Okay, great – let’s go,” the princess spluttered and rushed to collect her thin gossamer pashmina. She draped it over her shoulders, seemingly desperate to cover herself up.
In the light, Haros noticed Sivelle was decidedly flushed. A smug smile stretched across his face and he sat himself down on the chair beside the fire, taking another swig of wine.
“Have a good evening,” he called out, and Sivelle finally met his eye. He grinned at her, and she swiftly looked away, but not before he had seen the heated look on her face.
“We will. Don’t wait up!” Mivian crowed happily.
Haros noticed the handmaiden’s hair was decidedly more dishevelled than it had been earlier that evening. Seems Dorian had been keen to make time for that ‘kitchen emergency’ after all.
As the girls hurried from the room, Sivelle turned to her handmaiden.
“Mivian – remember that, uh, that thing we were talking about earlier today?”
“You mean…?”
“Yes. Set it up – tonight.”
Before Haros had a chance to ask, the door was shut and the faeries were gone.
∞∞∞
“Fuck, get a grip, you chump!” Haros hissed beneath his breath as he caught himself staring into the fireplace, lost in thoughts of Sivelle for the thousandth time that evening.
What had happened to him? Never had he been so riled up over a woman. The princess had plagued his thoughts before, but now he had tasted her? He could think of nothing else.
The demon sat on the soft upholstered chair, slumped defeatedly with his long legs splayed out in front of him. He glowered at the open flames, as if it were the fireplace’s fault that he was in such a mess.
It was pathetic, really. He had been at Awrelwood just over a week and had seemingly already forgotten about the world outside the castle walls. Sivelle was a beauty, that couldn’t be denied, but Haros had met – and kissed - many beautiful women in his time. Why was the princess any different?
Maybe it was because she was unusual. He had never been with a faerie in an intimate setting. Haros had been envious of his commander, Lephas, for having Lori’s attention. That must be it.
It definitely had nothing to do with how much he enjoyed teasing her, or how kind she was beneath that snooty facade, or her impressive loyalty to her sisters, or—
“Damn it…” Haros growled.
Alone in Sivelle’s bedroom, he could faintly hear the revelry going on below. He would never admit it, but Haros was disappointed to have been left behind. Logically, he knew it had been a smart move, but he loved a good party and his palms itched to see Sivelle in that dress again….
The bedroom door opened and Haros turned to glance over his shoulder. Mivian pressed the door closed behind herself.
“What are you doing back so early? Is Sivelle alright? Is she having a nice time?”
“The princess is fine. I wouldn’t say she was having the time of her life, but she seems to be enjoying her party more than she thought she would, so that’s something.”
Haros breathed a sigh of relief. “Good. So what are you doing here? Are you not enjoying yourself?”
“Oh, no, I’m having a fabulous time. I just have a few odds and ends to… tie up here before I head back down.” The handmaiden shot him an unnervingly wide smile.
Haros frowned and got to his feet.
“Anything I can help with? I’m bored out of my fucking skull up here.”
“Actually, yes. Could you come here a moment?”
Mivian skipped forwards a few steps and began rummaging through one of Sivelle’s bedside drawers. As Haros approached, she gestured to the bed.
“Just sit there a moment. I’m looking for something…”
Haros sat. No sooner had his backside touched the mattress than Mivian had spun to face him. She shot a blast of bright majicka at him.
The demon didn’t have time to react. With a grunt, he felt the force of the spell collide with his chest. He was sent sprawling across the bed and his arms flew back over his head.
Click, click!
Disorientated for a moment, Haros attempted to sit up but his wrists met with resistance. He looked up. Both of his cuffs were welded to the headboard, glowing with latent majicka.
“What the fuck, Mivian?!” he spat angrily.
“Sorry, Haros,” she cooed, reaching forwards to lift his legs onto the bed so he was laying on his back in the centre of Sivelle’s mattress. “It’s what Sivelle has requested.”
“What?!”
Haros’s own majicka rushed to the forefront, eager to defend him, but he held it back.
“It seems whatever you pair were doing earlier this evening on the balcony has piqued the princess’s curiosity, but she’s a nervous sort. I suggested maybe she would feel more comfortable exploring in a setting where she was fully in control.”
The handmaiden tittered and began unbuttoning Haros’s shirt. He watched her hands, dumbfounded.
“Are you serious? She’s trussed me up like this because she’s going to have her merry fucking way with me this evening after the party?”
Mivian shrugged. “In a nutshell, yes. Have you got a problem with that?”
“Fuck no! I mean, it would have been nice to be asked first, but…” Haros laughed.
“You’re her thrall, Haros. She doesn’t need to ask you anything.”
“I thought getting down and dirty with a slave was strictly off limits?” he asked.
“No, n
ot off limits, just… unorthodox. It’s considered to be a bit…”
“Kinky?” Haros glanced at his bound wrists. “I wonder why!”
“You be nice to that girl tonight, you hear me? She’s already getting herself worked up over it, so behave yourself.” Mivian scowled.
“Do I even have a choice?” Haros pulled against his restraints.
“No, not really.”
The handmaiden stripped him off, weaving some mysterious enchantment that allowed her to remove his shirt despite his arms being bound. The material fell away from him unscathed.
Eventually, Haros was left lying on Sivelle’s bed, wearing nothing but his thin undergarments. He watched on as Mivian hurried around him, preparing.
She laid out a box of tissues on the bedside cabinet before rooting through the drawers and placing an innocuous-looking glass bottle, filled with a clear, oily liquid, beside them.
“Uh, I hope that’s for her sake, not mine.” Haros laughed sheepishly.
“Don’t be disgusting!” Mivian grimaced, then paused. “Although…”
“Don’t you fucking dare.”
“Right! I think that’s everything…” The handmaiden glanced at him and her eyes widened. “Oh! I almost forgot.”
Mivian ran to Sivelle’s closet, returning shortly after with a small scrap of black silk.
“You can’t be serious. That’s a bit over the top, isn’t it?” The demon swallowed; his mouth dry.
“It’s what the princess has requested.” Mivian grinned and reached forwards to wrap the silk around Haros’s head, covering his eyes.
“Fucking faeries…” he muttered. “I’ve been bound and blindfolded more times since I’ve been here than ever before.”
Mivian tied the silk tightly. He heard her step away, the skirts of her evening dress rustling.
“Okay, I think we’re good here. You just stay put until Sivelle returns.”
“And when is that likely to be? Am I to just lie here until then?” he asked irritably.
“Yes, but trust me – it will pass in a dream. I think it’s nap time, don’t you?”