by K. L. Thorne
“It’s okay, I’ll sleep in it,” she replied, hurriedly pushing the sheets back and shuffling beneath them.
“Don’t be daft – that’s going to be really uncomfortable.” Haros rolled over and grasped her hip to drag her closer.
“No, really, it’ll be—” Sivelle began, stopping abruptly as the demon reached over her and unclasped her brassier. The material immediately popped open and fell slack around her shoulders. She shot him an incredulous look.
“I’ve had a bit of practice at that,” he shrugged with a cocky grin that should have irritated her. Instead, Sivelle was alarmed to feel a flutter of attraction.
“Fine,” she snapped and wriggled out of her brassier. She clutched the sheets to her chest.
Haros laughed. “Really? I just had my tongue up your cooch, but you’re shy about me seeing your breasts?”
“Don’t!” Sivelle gasped with an embarrassed frown.
She fumbled with the garter belt around her waist, and despite Sivelle’s feeble one-handed attempt at fighting him off, Haros tucked his fingers beneath her underwear. He tugged the whole ensemble down to her knees in one smooth motion.
Sivelle squirmed away from him and hurriedly kicked the garter belt, panties and stockings off. She dropped the outfit out from beneath the sheets onto the bedroom floor and clamped her arms by her sides in a pathetic attempt to stop Haros reaching her naked body.
“You’re too cute,” the demon sighed. He shifted to lie on his front and closed his eyes.
Sivelle lay frozen in place, tense and awkward. She glanced across at Haros. He somehow looked even more handsome when he was relaxed and falling asleep.
She loosened her hold on the blankets and rolled over onto her hip. The princess reached out to trail her fingertips curiously over the intricate tattoo on his back. Haros grunted, his muscular back flexing into her touch.
“Did this hurt?”
“Yeah, at the time,” he mumbled sleepily.
“When did you get it done?”
“I was sixteen. It was part of an initiation ceremony – it’s a demon thing, you probably wouldn’t understand.”
“Initiation into what?” Sivelle challenged, curiosity burning at her.
“Have you ever heard of the Black Bones?”
“No…”
“See, I told you you wouldn’t understand.” He grinned and Sivelle punched his arm playfully. “The Black Bones are a troop of warriors I trained with as a kid. The aim was to surpass your tutor’s skill in battle.”
“And you did that by sixteen?” Sivelle’s eyebrows raised.
“I guess I developed early and had a keen sense for inflicting pain on people. Some of the lads I signed up with never passed.”
“But why the tattoo?”
“Shit, you’re full of questions tonight, aren’t you?” Haros smirked with his eyes still closed.
“I’m just curious.”
“Supposedly, the tattoo thing started eons ago. They used them to identify their dead on the battlefield so they could commemorate and bury them. These days the tattoo just signifies the achievement. I’ll be an honorary Black Bones warrior until the day I die.”
“Well that’s dark…” Sivelle muttered. “Is that where you were taught to use majicka? With the Black Bones?”
“That’s right,” Haros replied.
Sensing she wasn’t going to get much more information from the drowsy demon, Sivelle allowed a comfortable silence to envelop them and rolled over, turning her back to the demon. She covered a wide, sleepy yawn with her fist and closed her eyes, making a mental note to continue her interrogation in the morning.
Chapter Thirteen
Haros roused earlier than he would have liked. With a grunt, he rolled over in the bed and wrapped his arm around the warm, naked woman beside him. He placed a kiss on the juncture between her neck and her shoulder, cupping one of her breasts in his hand.
The demon sighed with contentment. Had anything ever felt as good? Winter winds howled outside, but he was cosied up under thick, soft sheets with a beautiful little body curled against his.
He lay with his eyes closed, listening to her soft, shallow breaths. A second set of gentle snores were coming from the foot of the bed. Curiously, Haros raised his head and spotted the sleeping dragonette lying at his feet.
Wait, a dragonette? As he stirred to full awareness memories came flooding back. He wasn’t in his bed, he was in Sivelle’s. He glanced down at the sleeping woman in his arms with a grin.
The princess had abandoned her bashfulness in sleep. She lay with her back to him, her delicate wings folded neatly between their bodies. Her smooth, shapely backside was tucked against his thighs and one of her legs had intertwined with his.
Though Haros was no stranger to waking up in unfamiliar places with naked women, he had to admit this particular scenario was one for the books.
He yawned widely and palmed Sivelle’s soft, warm breast. Haros had been itching to get his hands on them since that first night she had undressed in front of him. He ran his mouth over Sivelle’s exposed neck. To his delight, the long, soft curls of her hair were splayed across the pillow and brushed against his chest, seemingly surrounding him.
The princess stirred, sighing deeply. He squeezed her, reluctantly releasing her breast to smooth a hand down over the curve of her hip.
Haros had always been a big fan of morning sex. He wondered if Sivelle would share in his enthusiasm. He began to kiss her more insistently, cautiously attempting to rouse her from sleep.
The faerie groaned and stretched, unwittingly pushing her bottom back against him. Haros’s body responded keenly and he pressed his steadily hardening shaft against her.
“Haros?” Sivelle mumbled sleepily and raised a hand to rub her face.
He smiled, continuing to pepper soft kisses against her neck. “Morning, sweetheart. Did you sleep well?”
Sivelle grumbled something incoherent and turned to bury her face in the pillow. Haros laughed; she really wasn’t a morning person, but then again neither was he unless sex was involved.
He trailed his hand back up her body to gently squeeze the princess’s breast once more. Sivelle jumped forwards, startling him. Though still half-asleep, she sat up, clutching the blankets to her chest defensively.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Enjoying myself.” Haros reached out to drag her back under the sheets with him.
“But it’s morning!” Sivelle protested, weakly attempting to squirm away from him.
Haros wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly against his body.
“So? Best time for it if you ask me. Start a good day with a great morning and all that.”
“It’s light outside!”
“Again, so?”
He stroked Sivelle’s flesh and barely hid his smile as he felt her body shiver in response. Her hands faltered as she fought against him.
Overpowering her easily, Haros rolled his weight on top of the princess. Despite her small, disapproving huff, she allowed him to shuffle his hips between her legs.
Haros sat up, resting his weight on his knees, and caged Sivelle’s body in with his own. She frowned and opened her mouth to say something. He kissed before she had a chance to complain.
Not wanting to scare her off, he endeavoured to keep his lower-half away from her, but it was all he could think about. It would be so easy to roll his hips forward and brush the tip against her exposed core. With her legs spread like this, the way would be clear for him.
Although Haros had never de-flowered a woman – at least, not to the best of his knowledge – he knew it was going to be far from simple, unlike the scene he was playing out in his head.
He consoled himself by pressing a firmer kiss against Sivelle’s mouth, revelling in the soft sigh he elicited from her. Despite her initial reluctance, the princess quickly softened into him and stroked her palms gently down his sides for encouragement.
He eventu
ally pulled away and leant back to press soft kisses down her throat. The princess craned her head back, giving him full access.
A shaft of bright light speared into the dark room as the door was opened. Mivian traipsed in, with a laundry basket balanced on her hip, oblivious to her intrusion.
Both Sivelle and Haros froze.
The handmaiden did a double take at Haros’s empty bed on the settee and then glanced across at them.
Mivian gasped and the laundry basket tumbled from her grasp, spilling clothes all over the floor. She hastily covered her eyes with her hands.
“Shit! Sorry, I’ve done it again!” she cried.
“For fuck’s sake, Mivian…” Haros grumbled and reluctantly rolled off Sivelle to lay on his back.
The princess scurried out from beneath him and leapt to hide in her bath chamber, slamming the door behind herself in her haste.
“I’m sorry! So, so sorry! I’ll leave, I-I’ll just—” Mivian knelt on the floor, one hand still covering her eyes, and felt around in an attempt to gather together the clothes she had dropped.
“It’s too late now – you’ve already ruined it,” Haros teased.
“I really must remember to knock!” she chastised herself with an embarrassed groan. “Sivelle, I’m so sorry!”
“She’s not here. She’s hiding in the bath chamber.”
“I am not hiding!” the princess screeched from behind the closed door.
Haros laughed, and whilst Mivian hurriedly collected the spilt laundry, he snatched his trousers from the floor and tugged them on.
Sivelle eventually emerged from the bath chamber wrapped in a towel, with cheeks pink from embarrassment and an angry scowl plastered on her face.
“This is all your fault!” She pointed at Haros.
“Guilty.” Haros shrugged, thrilled when the princess’s irritation flared further. He would never tire of getting a rise from her.
“I’ll prepare your bath, Your Highness.” Mivian whisked the curtains open, keeping her head down and her eyes averted.
Haros turned his attention to Nyre, who was observing the animated conversation with curiosity. Dragonettes were especially good at reading emotions; no doubt she was absorbed listening and interpreting.
“Come on, girl. Let’s leave this pair to it.”
Haros stood and put on his shirt, buttoning it closed before stepping into his boots. He grabbed a jerkin that was strewn across the back of the chair and tugged it on over his head.
Once dressed, he gestured for the dragonette to follow. Nyre perched on the edge of the bed, cautiously judging the distance before leaping to land gracefully upon his shoulder.
“And where do you think you’re going?” Sivelle snapped.
“I’m going to test our new friend’s flying ability. I’ll be on the balcony if you need me.”
The dragonette let out a small screech of enthusiasm. Haros stepped out through the large glass doors and closed them carefully behind him.
Though blustery, the weather had cleared up nicely. The snow had ceased from the day before and the sky was a vast expanse of blue. The sun shone brightly down on them, illuminating the dragonette’s beautiful sapphire scales. It was a perfect day for a flying lesson.
“Hop down here and let me see you,” Haros said, lowering his shoulder slightly.
The dragonette jumped down and sat obediently on the stone wall at the edge of the balcony.
Haros carefully grasped Nyre’s wings and stretched them out. They were vastly underdeveloped, but that was no surprise considering the shopkeeper at Fur and Feathers had said she’d never been allowed out of her cage. When they were young, dragonettes needed all the room they could get to grow and develop.
Though it would take a bit of hard work and determination, Haros was convinced Nyre’s physique would improve now she was allowed to use her wings properly. Despite her wing-to-body weight ratio being all wrong, the creature had surprised him with her keenness to fly. He had been expecting her to be reluctant and resort to climbing to get around, but no. The little dragonette was dogged and that was more than half the battle.
Haros stepped a short distance away and held out his forearm as a perch. He whistled and Nyre leapt into the air to land on his outstretched arm.
“Very good. Let’s try a bit further.”
Haros lifted the dragonette back onto the wall and stepped back until he was almost pressed against the balcony doors. He positioned his arm in a perch position once more and whistled.
This time Nyre hesitated. Her body teetered on the edge of the stone wall as she sized up the jump. With a small squawk of effort, the dragonette leapt into the air and threw herself towards Haros.
Her small, ineffective wings flapped in a vain attempt to keep her aloft. She barely made it to the demon, clinging to him desperately with her claws as she almost slid away off his forearm.
Haros jolted forward to catch her and helped her steady herself. Nyre shook her head and cooed appreciatively.
“That was a bit harder, wasn’t it? Good job. We’re going to do that a few more times.”
Nyre grumbled and Haros laughed as he placed her back on the wall and walked away to stand at the door again.
Another whistle preceded another clumsy attempt at flying. By the third whistle, Haros was pleased to see Nyre’s wings catching the wind, using the currents to aid her. For her fourth attempt, she soared to his outstretched arm with ease.
“There we are! You’re getting it.”
As he placed her back on the stone wall, Nyre turned to look out across the city curiously.
He stroked her scales. “I don’t think you’re quite ready to go off the edge just yet, girl. A little more practice and you’ll be able to go out hunting all day. Would you like that?”
The dragonette cooed and padded a little closer to the edge. The balcony doors opened and Sivelle stepped out to join them. She wrapped her arms around her body as she was assaulted by a blast of icy wind.
Nyre peered at the faerie over her shoulder and with a determined screech, leapt from the edge of the balcony.
“No!” Haros’s heart leapt into his mouth as the tiny reptile launched herself into the air. He jumped to grab her, but she slipped from his grasp.
The dragonette opened her wings and caught an up-current, expertly soaring away into the sky.
“Nyre!” Sivelle shouted, running to the edge of the balcony with her eyes wide and fearful.
Haros watched on, amazed, and pressed a hand against the princess’s shoulder.
“Wait… She’s doing it.”
They watched in astonishment as the little dragon flapped her wings and glided away across the city. She caught another updraft, floating higher and higher.
“Don’t go too far!” Sivelle called.
Nyre squawked a response before masterfully tucking her wings in altogether and barrel rolling mid-air to shoot back down towards them. At the last second, she opened her wings and the thin membranes stretched out to slow her trajectory. She landed smoothly back on the wall of the balcony.
Sivelle breathed a sigh of relief and gathered Nyre into her arms.
Haros grinned. “You show off. So, you do know how to fly after all!”
The dragonette cooed, almost smug.
“That was incredible – how did she do that with such tiny wings?” Sivelle gaped, stroking the dragon.
“I have no idea. She shouldn’t be able to fly more than a few feet in the state she’s in. Just think how well she’ll be able to fly once we get her fit and healthy.”
He reached out and scratched Nyre beneath her jawline. The dragonette closed her eyes, a blissful expression crossing her face.
“How do you know so much about dragonettes?” Sivelle asked, turning to look at him.
“I don’t know that much. My tutor, Ox, kept one. A mean little bitch she was too.”
“Was that with the Black Bones?”
“Yeah, that’s right.”
&nbs
p; Although Haros had been half-asleep for most of their conversation the night prior, he recalled how curious Sivelle had been to learn about his past. He brushed the snow from the stone wall of the balcony and rested his elbows against it.
Sivelle curled her finger beneath Nyre’s chin. “Do they really breathe fire?”
“Most of them do, but not all. Some are venomous, others can become invisible… There’s all manner of different species of dragonette.”
“What kind is Nyre, do you think?”
“Why don’t you ask her?” Haros smiled at the dumbstruck look on Sivelle’s face.
“She can understand us?”
“To a point, yeah. Dragonettes are very clever and are good at reading people.”
Sivelle and Nyre stared at one another for a moment. The dragonette snapped her sharp teeth together impatiently.
“What kind of dragonette are you, Nyre?” the princess asked, scooping the creature from her arms and placing her back on the balcony. “Can you breathe fire?”
Nyre tilted her head back and forth inquisitively.
“Like this…” Haros leant across and snapped his fingers together. There was a bright spark of majicka before a small flame flickered to life between his thumb and forefinger.
“Goodness. I had almost forgotten about you and your majicka skills,” Sivelle mused, her eyes wide with surprise.
Nyre’s face lit up as she spotted the fire and she scrambled to get closer. She nipped at the flames playfully, buffering them with her wings to make them dance so she could chase them with her teeth.
“She’s definitely a fan of fire. That’s usually a sign that they’re some form of fire-breathing species,” Haros said, allowing the flames to die out.
Nyre cast him a disapproving glance and grumbled.
Sivelle frowned at him. “I think she was enjoying herself. Why don’t you—”
Before Haros had time to react, Nyre took a deep breath in and opened her mouth. The little dragonette blew a mouthful of bright, cyan-coloured flames at his fingers.
“Fuck!” The demon leapt back as pain seared his hand.