Once Bitten: A Dragon-Shifter Fantasy Romance Page 19

  In all of her life, she couldn’t recall feeling such pleasure. Somehow, it continued to build, climbing to a higher intensity with each stroke of his fingers. It reached a point where his touch became almost uncomfortable, yet she knew she wouldn’t have been able to bear it if he stopped. Then, all at once, her discomfort unfurled into a rippling sensation of pure pleasure. Shocked and astounded, it was all she could do to cling to him as wave after wave of pleasure rolled over her body.

  It ended gradually. Each time she thought it was over, her body would quiver with another aftershock. The voice in the back of her mind tried to tell her that it was wrong, but she lent it no credence. She refused to believe that anything that felt so wonderful could be sinful.

  When she opened her eyes, she found Caleth’s head on the pillow beside her. One corner of his mouth was quirked and his aura danced as much with amusement as with passion.

  Had she done something silly?

  He took her hand, pressed a kiss to it, and then guided it down to the flat plane of his pelvis. He rested it there and gave her a questioning look.

  “Vayt?”

  Was he asking if she would touch him again?

  She wet her lips and nodded.

  Caleth drew her hand down, and Eloisa inhaled sharply as her hand came in contact with his bare manhood. At some point when she’d been coming down from her ecstasy, Caleth had removed his pants.

  She took in another breath, and then wrapped her hand around him. She got the same impression as before—silken skin over a hard interior. It could have just been a fault in memory, but she thought he felt even harder now.

  Although he was cool to the touch, his phallus was notably warmer than the rest of his body, and she remembered what Lidia had told her about frostkind males. Would being inside of her bring him more pleasure than being with a female of his own kind? Eloisa hoped so. She wanted badly to satisfy him, not for any underhanded reasons, but to return the gift he’d given to her.

  Running her hand along the full length of him, she found him to be unexpectedly long and thick. Eloisa had to look down, her brows lifting when she saw what was in her hand.

  The only phallus she’d ever seen was in a depiction in a book on anatomy. Apparently, in days past there had been some debate among the Sisters whether or not to include images of the male form as part of curriculum, but High Maiden Ionia had ruled that it was necessary for them to be aware of it so as to remove its mystique.

  In the depiction, which had been forever seared into her mind, the phallus had been smallish and curled. She remembered someone in class remarking that it looked like a sausage link. From the brief reading they’d done on the mechanics of intercourse, she knew that upon arousal it would fill with blood, lengthening and hardening to prepare for insertion.

  Eloisa had no idea that it could grow to be this long, or so thick that she couldn’t properly get her hand around it. She tried to imagine how it was meant to fit inside of her, but her mind struggled with the image. Perhaps it had something to do with their different races. Did frostkind females have larger passages that could better accommodate their males?

  “Will it hurt?” she asked, looking up at him.

  Caleth’s eyes had been closed, but at her question, they opened. She knew he didn’t understand and she wasn’t sure how to ask in Cal’derache. She also knew that the answer didn’t matter. If he was to be her husband, they would have to figure it out. Besides, it was not as if she was a stranger to pain.

  He began kissing her again and easing himself back on top of her, their naked bodies pressed together. While her heart beat a nervous cadence, the lower half of her body thrummed with anticipation as Caleth lifted a leg and positioned himself at her entrance.

  Caleth closed his eyes and exhaled. “Vayt?”

  Why, why, why couldn’t he just do it? Why did he have to ask her at every stage, thus making her an accessory to her own defilement—which she very much was, but gods damn it all, couldn’t he just put it into her?

  “Please,” she said. “Talsyr.”

  He kissed her again, his lips remaining locked with hers as he slowly eased into her virgin passage. Eloisa felt several things in quick succession—pleasure, and then pain, and then a strange mix of the two, coupled with a sense of fulfillment as he settled himself deep within her.

  More so than anything else, she had the sense of being released from a heavy burden. She had believed that her veil had been her final remnant of her time in the tower, but now she recognized that it had been this, her maidenhood. She could see now that the fear she'd had over losing it had been part of a delusion, the delusion she’d buried when she’d first stepped into the palanquin that would take her away from the only home she’d known in a century.

  Although she’d become worldly, and High Maiden Ionia had told her she would never return, Eloisa had still, deep down, believed that a grave error had been made and that as soon as it was righted, she would return to the tower, and to her little room with Selia.

  Now, it was all well and truly behind her. She could never go back, and that made her want to weep and to cry out in relief. Eloisa did neither. Instead, she surrendered herself to the pleasure of being taken by a man.

  As Caleth began moving inside of her, Eloisa had no confusion about what to do. Just as with his kisses and with his touch, Caleth began in a slow rhythm, waited for her to adjust, and then gradually increased his pace. She didn’t worry that she wasn’t pleasing him. His aura, his face, and the sounds he made painted a clear picture of a man in the midst of rapture.

  The discomfort subsided quickly, and soon she was sharing in his pleasure. Her body became a slave to impulses—the flexing of her hips, the curling of her toes, and her eyes rolling back in her head. She felt herself soaring towards another peak as Caleth groaned foreign words into her ear.

  This time when her pleasure reached its zenith, it was accompanied by the feeling of him thrusting his hard length in and out of her. It made the sensation all the more intense. She drew in a deep breath and released it in a whimpering moan. Caleth thrust harder in response, drawing her pleasure out until Eloisa’s body seized up and she could hear nothing but a low, ringing noise in her ears.

  Abruptly, Caleth went rigid inside of her. Eloisa was pulled from her stupor as icy seed pulsed into her belly. She shivered and clutched his shoulders, as if his cold body could somehow offer respite from her sudden chill.

  For a few moments, nothing was said and Eloisa began to wonder if it was over, or if it was simply an interlude in their lovemaking. She hoped for the former, only because she didn’t think she could do it all again, at least not that night.

  Caleth rolled onto his side with a groan, one hand on Eloisa’s hip to keep them joined. With his other hand he worked to cover her with her blanket, but it was no use. She was cold inside and out.

  “Vasashta?” he asked, brushing hair from her slick forehead.

  His aura was back to its empyrean color, but with contented undertones.

  “F-Fresun,” she told him, her teeth chattering.

  Smiling, he kissed the bridge of her nose, and then in a quick motion, scooped her up into his arms and off of the bed. Eloisa yelped and grabbed his shoulders. To her amazement, he managed to get up and begin walking, all while keeping himself nestled inside of her.

  Moments later they were in her room, laying side by side on her bed. To her front, Eloisa could feel the blissful warmth that emanated from the fireplace. Pressed against her back, Caleth’s cold skin chilled her.

  “Aren’t you hot?” she asked as he pulled the covers up around her. “Tresun?”

  She was afraid that by asking, he would realize how uncomfortable he was and then depart. She desperately wanted him to stay, not only because it felt good to be in his arms, but also because she was afraid of where her mind might go if he left her.

  Whether he recognized her need for him to stay, or he genuinely preferred being by her side in spite of the heat, Calet
h continued holding her. He murmured words against her hair. Though utterly foreign to her ears, they had a gentle cadence that carried her towards a dreamless sleep.

  The first time Eloisa woke, it was to Caleth rising from bed. She had no awareness of how long she’d been resting, but her heavy eyelids told her that it was still evening.

  He climbed over her, and after rubbing her bleary eyes, Eloisa could see that his back was slick with sweat. She watched him go to the table, paying more attention to his naked body than to what he was doing.

  After gathering up the papers they’d been writing on, he carried them over to the fire, tore them in half, and then tossed them into the flames. It was a precaution she would not have thought of, particularly because they’d been writing in a defunct language.

  He watched the fire for a moment, making certain that the papers were thoroughly crisped. When he came back to the bed, he didn’t climb in but instead sat on the edge. The mattress dipped under the weight of his large body.

  Long fingers ran through her hair. As Eloisa peered up at him through her lashes, Caleth bent to press a kiss to the side of her face, and then a second, closer to her ear.

  “Kesacre,” he whispered.

  Giving her hair one final stroke, Caleth stood. Before Eloisa could think of an appropriate response in Cal’derache, he was departing. Her eyes fell shut as the door clicked behind Caleth, and she was soon back to sleeping.

  The encounter had a dreamlike quality to it, but when she woke again the first thing she noticed was that the papers were gone from the desk. Sitting up in her bed, she saw that the sun was looming at the horizon, whether rising or setting, she had no way of knowing.

  She must have been roused by the sense of someone’s approach, because a moment later she noticed footsteps and then the sound of someone knocking at her door.

  “Come in,” Eloisa said after covering herself.

  Lidia opened the door and stepped in. She looked straight at Eloisa, her thick brows lifting.

  “Ma’am,” was all she said.

  Suddenly, Eloisa felt foolish for trying to hide her nakedness. Lidia was not so human that she wouldn’t be able to smell what they’d done.

  “Good morning, Lidia,” Eloisa said sheepishly.

  She wasn’t ashamed that she’d shared her body with Caleth, at least not in regards to her faith. She was, however, quite embarrassed to have done so before their wedding. Although she knew that the Cal’derache did not find such things to be improper, Eloisa’s Atolian sensibilities had her blushing.

  “Your neck,” Lidia said.

  Frowning, Eloisa ran a hand along the curve of her neck, finding it to be sore, but otherwise fine.

  As Eloisa checked herself, Lidia went to the desk and grabbed a hand mirror. When she returned to the bed with it, Eloisa flinched away from her reflection, as she always did on reflex. When she realized what she’d done, she forced herself to turn and look into the mirror. As she saw her neck, her mouth popped open. Bruises of purple and red ran the length of her neck on both sides.

  “What in the heavens?” she said, pressing a finger against one.

  “I take it the sovereign did those?” Lidia asked.

  Had he? She remembered him sucking on her neck, but to the extent that she bruised?

  “It didn’t hurt,” Eloisa said.

  “Then, you enjoyed it?”

  Eloisa could see that her face was scrunched with worry, and she realized Lidia’s true concern.

  “What we did last night… It was my choice.”

  Somehow, admitting that she’d liked it felt even more sinful than admitting it had been her decision.

  “How long until these go away?” Eloisa asked.

  “With as fast as you heal, I doubt they’ll last more than a day.”

  Lidia still looked concerned, and Eloisa wondered if she wasn’t convinced of what Eloisa had told her. Eloisa, herself, could hardly believe she’d told Caleth to take her to bed, but she was glad that she had.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  Lidia said, “Did he see your back?”

  “Oh.” Eloisa touched a hand to her back, her fingers moving across the uneven skin. “He did, yes.”

  “And?” Lidia leaned in closer. “What did he say? How did you explain it?”

  Deliberating for a fraction of a second, Eloisa came to a decision. She had already broken the largest of her vows, and breaking one more was surprisingly easy.

  “I led him to believe that I was abducted as a girl. That the reason my father had never forced me to marry was because of my scars. It was easy enough to fabricate. Jedora was translating. She kept flinging assumptions at me until one stuck.”

  Lidia let out a breath. “Oh, Gods, I can’t believe you managed without lying. You’re sure he believed it?”

  “It seems so,” Eloisa said, feeling only the smallest pang of guilt.

  Last night, when she’d been conversing with Caleth in Ye’derache, it had occurred to her that the things they were talking about would need to stay between the two of them. As much as she valued Lidia, her maid worked for Milara and Lusia, two figures that Eloisa had no idea if she could trust.

  If she told Lidia that Caleth knew about her time in the tower, then it would follow that he knew about her aurasight. From there, it would be a short leap to realizing that he intended to use her powers to further his conquests, knowledge that could be dangerous in the hands of anyone, and had the potential to put her life and Caleth’s plans in jeopardy.

  Eloisa still wasn’t sure how she felt about being his agent—his spy in plain sight. But she did know that he hadn’t been lying when he’d told her that he would cherish her. She knew that in a short time, her feelings for him had already blossomed into something stronger and more compelling than she could have ever hoped for.

  She also knew that with or without her, Caleth would one day rule the world. And so long as she was at his side, she would do everything in her power to ensure that he was a just and benevolent ruler. Perhaps that was the true reason she had come to be his bride.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Eloisa’s dress arrived just hours before the wedding was to commence. She was so detached from the whole planning process that she’d been oblivious to the frenzy that had led up to its arrival at Cal’en Fasha. When she’d first gotten into it, she’d thought that the planners were tearing up because she looked so beautiful, but Jedora had informed her that they were merely relieved that they wouldn’t be losing their heads for ruining the wedding.

  Though she doubted anyone would have been seriously reprimanded, Eloisa did share in their relief. The planners, two tall and hawkish Stravean women, had tried their best to get Eloisa involved in the planning of her wedding, but she’d evaded them at every turn. Though she’d always secretly dreamed of her wedding, she had little idea of what went into an Atolian one, and could not even begin to grasp the intricacies of a Cal’derache one. For a nation that didn’t value marriage, they had rather complex weddings.

  Her wedding was to take place over twelve days, though the first ceremony would officially bind her to the sovereign as his lawful wife. After a night of festivities, they would depart in the morning for the temple at the heart of Cal’dara, where Eloisa would have her coronation and would henceforth be known as Asejana Eroja, the latter being the Cal’derache variation of her name. It had been decided that she would take the new name in order to ease the empire into having a foreigner as the sovereign’s bride, but Caleth had promised that he and the residents of Cal’en Fasha would call Eloisa by her proper, Atolian name.

  In a normal Cal’derache marriage, the marriage weeks would be spent visiting with family members. As asejana, Eloisa’s marriage weeks would be spent visiting the monarchs and high nobility in Caleth’s various kingdoms, with a final stop in Atolia, where they would visit the Suntouched Palace and complete the marriage contract with Philomen. Eloisa wasn’t sure which part of her journey she dreaded more.


  However, she didn’t let fear of what was to come put a damper on her day. Today was her wedding day, and she was determined for it to be the best day of her life thus far. It was going to be quite a challenge, considering every day for the past week had been the best day of her life, and she wasn’t sure how things could possibly keep getting better. She also didn’t know how spending her night in a room with hundreds of strangers all vying for her husband’s attention could possibly be better than a night spent alone with Caleth in their beds, but she had faith.

  She also had a stunning dress.

  ‘Cues ka aryma ka arsujem?’ What kind of dress?

  The planners had asked that as they’d hefted a massive tome into Eloisa’s lap. Eloisa had thumbed through several of the pages, gawking at the myriad illustrations of potential wedding gowns. In the end, she’d politely handed the book back and asked for something simple. Her planners had not honored this request, and she could not have been more grateful.

  The interior of the dress was soft fur, and would insulate her against the cold halls and reception areas. Long and trailing several paces behind her, her skirt was comprised of thousands of white feathers, ending at the slopes of her hips, where the bust was tight to her skin and sewn with countless tiny, blue scales. It was a perfect blend of Atolian and Cal’derache fashion, and she loved it more than she would dare admit.

  “I look like a real bride,” she said, shamelessly admiring herself in the mirror.

  The tall Cal’derache woman who was curling her hair hummed as if in agreement, though to Eloisa’s knowledge she spoke no Atolian. She received no response from Jedora, who was in her customary position, sprawled out on Eloisa’s sofa.

  She and Jedora had spent most of the week together, purely out of necessity. As the wedding preparations had begun, there had been a mass influx of new people coming and going from the fortress. Caleth ordered tightened security on the residential wing, which included Jedora’s constant accompaniment during the waking hours and guards posted outside Eloisa’s door during the rare occasion when Caleth wasn’t in bed with her.