by Amy Sandas
Music played by five musicians flowed from the grand salon, which also contained a stage for her dancers surrounded by chairs, sofas, couches, and divans for comfortable viewing of the entertainment and other activities. A second salon had been designed more for conversation, where gentlemen could debate over port and tobacco while naked lovelies served them from golden platters. Beyond that was a room lit with soft candlelight, most often occupied by those who wished to engage in exhibitionism or voyeurism. And then, a room left in perpetual shadowed darkness to allow guests to release their inhibitions to the full extent. Alcoholic refreshment was provided in each room while light and savory fare was offered in the main drawing room to keep guests from leaving to pursue dinner elsewhere.
Several rooms on the upper floors were dedicated to Pendragon’s personal use. Additional rooms were reserved for her ladies. She currently had nine in residence, though she hired additional entertainment for special events like tonight. For that purpose, several additional private rooms could be used as needed. Every available bed, couch, divan, and chaise in the place would likely be occupied well into the morning hours.
She’d thrown enough of these grand parties by now to have it all organized to perfection. The cellar and larders were well-stocked. Extra servants filled the kitchens and below stairs to keep everything moving smoothly and she had double her usual flash men to keep her guests in line should the excessive alcohol lead to any behavior that broke the strict house rules. One misdeed could see a member barred for life, which meant there were rarely infractions and events such as these tended to go off without a hitch.
Waiting until the evening was in full swing before leaving her rooms to join the party so as to make the kind of dramatic entrance she was known for, Callista sauntered down the main staircase in full view of the entry hall and the main salon.
She loved this moment.
When all eyes turned to her. Admiration, lust, and a little bit of fear reflected up at her. This was her world and she was empress. The lady dragon ready to bestow her treasures on foolish mortals or send them to fiery fates.
As she scanned the crowd below with a narrowed gaze, she exalted in her success. She had made this. With her wits and determination. She was far more than a vessel for men’s pleasure. She was a force. Though she did not immediately see silver-streaked black hair or striking gray eyes amongst the gathering guests, she was not concerned.
He would come.
With a smile full of knowledge and secrets, she wove a seductive dance through the crowd. Bestowing grace upon her guests with a glance, a few words, or—if the gentleman were particularly lucky that evening—a light, suggestive caress of her hand as she passed. Each man held his breath, hoping they might be one to receive some exceptional favor from the queen of the evening. Callista very carefully and intentionally cultivated that hopeful anticipation. Part of her allure was in her unpredictability, the way her mood could shift from hot to cold and back again within a single interaction. It kept the gentlemen on their toes, never certain of her regard, ever aware of how much power she possessed within the walls of Pendragon’s and beyond.
Their pleasures relied upon her grace and discretion and she made sure they never forgot that.
After taking a couple hours to make her way through each room, assessing the turnout and verifying that her protections were all in place should a guest get unruly, she went below stairs to check on things in the kitchen and go over additional details for the evening with her manager. Neither of which were necessary, as everything had been planned and prepped to perfection.
As she returned to the main level, she advised her head doorman that she would be in her personal suite if anything was needed. She liked to show herself only sparingly to her guests though she’d remain available for any concerns throughout the event. It was important she keep herself at a distance. Too much familiarity bred confidence and comfort, which led some men to think they could take more than they were offered, that they were somehow owed more.
Those men quickly learned otherwise.
Retreating to her library, her favorite room in the house, Callista poured herself a glass of red wine before reclining on her black velvet chaise.
Tonight would be a success. All of her grand parties were though each one became more elaborate than the last as she was forced over and over to outdo herself.
A glance at the clock indicated it was already early morning, yet the revelry and debauchery would continue for several more hours.
Leaning her head back, she closed her eyes. Anyone who might happen to observe her in that moment would assume she was resting. They’d be wrong.
Her body was taut with anticipation, which had been increasing throughout the day and evening. And her mind whirled through thoughts that were unprecedented.
Thoughts of a man who’d claimed her focus and her desire. A man she no longer believed to be a threat to her business, though he most certainly posed a significant risk to her personally.
In business she had always been fearless.
But in this...she had to acknowledge she’d become slightly unsteady.
It had been a long time since her last lover. But that was not what had her belly trembling at the thought of welcoming Erik Maxwell to her bed. What bothered her and threw her off-balance tonight was the realization and acceptance that what she wanted from him was different from anything she’d wanted before.
“Madam.”
She opened her eyes without lifting her head to see one of her well-trained men filling the doorway. “Yes?”
“Your special guest has arrived.”
Tingling, sparking anticipation rushed through her from head to toe. “Thank you, Simon.”
With a nod, the bouncer stepped back into the hall and disappeared.
Sipping on her wine, Callista allowed a smile.
Of course he’d come.
No doubt, he was grateful for the opportunity to explore Pendragon’s while also expecting to take advantage of her invitation to further his seduction. She hadn’t seen him since Christmas dinner, yet per their agreement, he still had two days to demonstrate his skills. He couldn’t know that, after tonight, they would no longer be needed.
Though a part of her wanted to rush downstairs to him, she forced herself to remain where she was. She wanted to allow him time to wander about and soak up the fantasy she’d woven for her guests.
What would he find most compelling?
Her stomach tightened. Would he choose to partake in the many wicked delights Pendragon’s offered in abundance?
The urge to claim him for her own rose fiercely inside her. Now that she’d embraced the decision to accept him as her lover, she had to fight against a sense of possession. He did not belong to her any more than she would belong to him. No matter how intensely she was compelled to claim that right.
She paused in the midst of lifting her glass for another sip as a distinguished male form clothed in elegant black evening wear that accented the silver of his hair and the magnetic light in his eyes moved into the open doorway.
He stood there for a moment as his steady focused gaze moved slowly over the curves and dips of her body showcased to perfection by blood-red silk.
Though she felt the heat of his desire like flames licking over her skin, she responded to his appearance with a lift of her brow. Rolling to one side, she propped herself up on an elbow and noted smoothly, “The party is downstairs.”
“I’m not here for the party.” Understated confidence flowed through his words. And hunger. Heavy, rich hunger.
For the first time, she allowed some of her own hunger to reflect in her eyes. “I hope you allowed yourself a moment to take in the various delights I offer my guests.”
He took a slow step into the room, then another. His gaze never leaving hers as he crossed the thick carpet. “What I want isn’t being offered below.”
“Is that so?” she asked with a quirk of her lips.
His smile was
slow. Assured. Seductive. Did he already suspect why he’d been invited tonight?
“You know it is,” he replied.
“What else do I know?”
Reaching the chaise, he extended one of his gloveless hands.
There was no hesitation as she slid her bare fingers along his palm until his hand enclosed hers and he brought her slowly to her feet. Without a word, he took her wineglass and set it on the table beside them. Then he lifted her hand to his mouth, where he pressed his warm lips to the center of her palm.
His silvery eyes held a quiet, unshakeable intention. But it was unhurried and calm. So unlike the riot erupting in her core. A part of her wanted him to sweep her off her feet, maybe toss her over his shoulder or take her to the floor right there in the middle of her library as he covered her mouth in a deep, claiming kiss. But another part of her held her breath and urged her to patience.
His voice was gruff and weighted when he finally replied. “You had to know I would find you.”
She hadn’t, actually. But she realized now that she’d hoped he would.
“Just as you know I am about to kiss you.”
Callista lifted her chin as her lashes swept over a narrowed gaze and her lips parted. She felt no need to respond as his attention fell from her eyes to her mouth. She watched with thrills livening her blood as his pupils dilated and his nostrils flared.
Take it. The private thought came out in a husky murmur she hadn’t intended to voice out loud. But then she was glad she did because a gravelly moan rolled from his throat as he took her face in his hands and claimed her mouth in a kiss that was deep, hot, and mind-melting.
As she slid one hand up and around his neck, she flattened her other palm to his chest, seeking the subtle rhythm of his heart as she gave herself over to the delicious skill he employed with his lips, tongue, and teeth. He immediately shifted to wrap his arms fully around her, one bracing behind her shoulders, the other encircling the narrow span of her tightly corseted waist to hold her close. Body to body. Breath to breath.
As hot as the kiss was to start, it grew even hotter. The flames of long-denied desire leaping to new heights within seconds.
Just when she thought she might drown in the maelstrom of need flowing through her, he slid his mouth to the side of her throat, then lower, where he paused to scrape his teeth delicately along the muscle connecting neck to shoulder before he placed a warm kiss just above the draping, wispy sleeve of her gown. The delicate caress caused shivers to cascade down her spine.
The hand she’d been resting against his chest curled into claws and her fingernails dug into the expensive fabric of his coat.
Lifting his head, he rested his mouth against the sensitive shell of her ear. “Most importantly,” he whispered roughly, “you know the one thing I do not.”
“What’s that?” she asked. Her voice breathless and heavy.
“What happens next.”
She opened her eyes to find him staring intently at her face. His eyes were hard and hot. His jaw was tense with need, his lips firm, and his breath subtly ragged.
“But you’ve known what would happen all along, Mr. Maxwell.”
“I’ve hoped.”
She smiled and combed her fingers through the hair at his nape. “Hmm. Now, you play at humility,” she murmured thoughtfully.
He smiled but the curve of his mouth did nothing to soften the intensity in his expression. “Only an idiot would be anything but humble in the presence of the lady dragon.”
The sound she made was a warm purr. “And you are no idiot.”
His hands shifted to grasp her waist. She could feel the tension of his fingers pressing into the stiff material of her bodice, as if he wished to tear it away from her body to reach the softness encased within.
She wanted to tear the damn thing off, just to feel the smooth glide of his bare hands on her skin. Instead, she gave a subtle undulation of her body. A quiet urging, a silent permission for him to take a bit more.
Eyes blazing, he smoothed his hands up along her sides until his thumbs brushed across the peaks of her breasts with the perfect amount of pressure before he reached around her. One hand slid down to press flat against the lowest curve of her spine, right where her buttocks flared beneath soft silk. His other hand followed her spine up to wrap around her nape. Holding her like that, he brushed a light kiss across her parted lips.
“I’m clever enough to know my first mistake with you would also be my last.”
“You think me so harsh?” she asked in a ragged whisper as his lips trailed to her jaw, then her temple, then the hollow below her ear.
“Not harsh, madam. You are simply too magnificent for most mortal men.”
She gave a husky laugh. The man knew how to compliment a woman.
His hand tightened on the back of her neck, urging her to drop her head, exposing her throat. She expected him to kiss her there. Instead, he held her like that for a moment. Just long enough for vulnerability to spark deep in her heart. But as she met his dynamic gaze, swirling with desire and knowledge, she instinctively knew she was safe in his hold.
“But I am not most men.”
She narrowed her focus on his mouth, admiring its firm lines and the softness that was present only in the fuller bottom lip. She ached for that mouth and its unexpected smiles and intriguing words. She trembled inside with the desire to feel it again on her lips and imagined the many other ways he might use it.
Bringing her gaze back to his, she murmured in agreement, “No. You are not.”
Chapter Nine
When she stepped from his arms, Erik experienced a moment of panic but loosened his hold anyway, allowing his hands to glide over her curves in a sensual caress that made her eyes spark beautifully and her lips curve with promise.
Then she took his hand in hers and turned to lead him across the room. Without a word, she continued from the library and down the hall toward the rear of the house, away from the main stairs that that would have taken them back down to the party. Next, they ascended a narrow, twisting staircase to the top floor of the building and another hallway with red carpeting and brocade-covered walls that contained several closed doors.
Despite the muffled sounds of revelry that could be heard from below and the suspicion that there were others enjoying the privacy and quiet behind each of the closed doors they passed, he felt as though it were just the two of them. In the world that surrounded them but not of it. He always seemed to feel like that when he was with her.
At the end of the hall was a door, closed and locked.
Sending him a seductive glance over her shoulder that had his stomach tightening and his cock thickening in a rush, she withdrew a single key on a silken black cord from a concealed pocket in her gown.
The room beyond was a luxurious sitting room done in more of the lady’s signature scarlet but accented with gold rather than black. Gold threads in the embroidered settee, gold in the flames rolling gently in the hearth, gold brocade drapes covering the windows, and a large gold filigreed mirror on the wall between.
The room was gilded fire.
And as Pendragon led the way forward, he acknowledged how perfect a setting it was for her. He couldn’t keep his eyes off her in the stunning gown, her hips swaying confidently beneath liquid flowing silk. Closing the door behind him, he leaned back against it, watching her. Admiring everything about her as she stopped in front of the oversized mirror hanging almost directly across the room from him.
Green eyes snared his in the reflection as she lifted her hands to tuck a stray curl back up into her coiffure. Her smile was full of feminine mystique and sensual power as she allowed her fingertips to trail slowly down along her slim neck, across her collarbone, and lower, to the soft upper swells of her breasts.
As he watched from behind her, the mirrored reflection making him feel farther away than he was in truth, she slid her index finger along the top of her bodice, where a thin edge of black lace peeked from under
the red silk.
Lust swirled heavily in his body, tensing his muscles, clenching a fist around his throat while blood thundered to his cock.
The woman could put him to his knees if she tried. Part of him wished she would. He would readily offer every pleasure to her, prostrate himself at her feet for the privilege of a single taste.
But he understood that wasn’t what she wanted. Nor was it what she needed. She’d no doubt had countless men bowing to her beauty and her pleasure, tossing themselves at the mercy of her desires.
Their intense mutual attraction had grown into something far more complex than sexual power dynamics and pleasures of the flesh alone. He’d long accepted the connection between them. The inevitability of their joining and the undeniable enjoyment that would be found when they finally came together. As two people who might appear to be rivals on the outside but were well-matched in all the ways that mattered. Their pasts had been charted through decades of experiences and ambitions and loneliness to bring them both to this night. To each other.
Her fingers moved nimbly along the tiny hidden fasteners running down the front of her gown. With each little pop of the hook releasing from eyelet, the stiff bodice began to gape.
And Erik’s mouth began to water.
Lush, pale pink flesh. Soft and full. She wore nothing beneath the gown and every bit she exposed to him was more tantalizing than the last. As his gaze hungrily devoured the sensual feast she revealed so cleverly and torturously, he felt as though he were being offered something no man could ever prove worthy of receiving.
Pulling the corseted bodice free of her body, she dropped the thing to the floor.
The smooth skin of her torso gleamed like marble in the dusky golden firelight. Her breasts were wonderfully full, the tips crested with dark rose-colored nipples. Her waist was narrow but soft in a way he wanted to rub his face against.
