Dakota's Discipline [Portraits of Submission 4] (Siren Publishing Sensations

by Tara Rose

  “I’m going to the indoor archery range,” said Bramwell. “I need to practice.”

  “And to work off some of this frustration at the realization that you’re falling in love with Dakota, no doubt.”

  There were times when Bramwell hated Kelton’s ability to get to the heart of the matter, as much as he hated the smirk on his face when he knew he’d nailed someone. This was one of those times. “And you’re not?”

  He sipped his damn coffee again, his face as impassive as if they were discussing which scent of shampoo they each preferred. “I didn’t say that. That girl has me torn to shreds inside, but not for the same reasons she has done it to you.”

  “Well then, perhaps you’d be good enough to share your reasons with me?”

  Kelton placed his coffee cup on the cart with the remnants of their breakfast, and gazed at Bramwell with a serious expression. “In many ways she reminds me of Venus, but of course there are differences. I fall for the same type of woman every time, which I suppose isn’t all that unusual. We all have our likes and dislikes. But this time, I stand a real chance of having my heart broken in ways it never has been. I’ve been giving this a great deal of thought over the past few days. It isn’t just her passion in bed or that luscious body that has captured my heart and soul. It’s the person inside. Venus didn’t display the warmth or vulnerability that Dakota has, and yet we still know next to nothing about her.”

  “We haven’t exactly given her a chance to tell us anything.”

  “I realize that, and we need to rectify that situation. What troubles me is how drawn I am to her despite not knowing much about her. I’m quite unable to look into her eyes without my blood boiling and my cock throbbing. She calls to me in a way no one, including Venus, ever did. I fear I am already gone, my friend, and if she leaves us one day, I will never recover.”

  Bramwell nodded slowly. He understood exactly what Kelton was saying, for he felt the same way. If Dakota chose to return to her world one day and leave them behind, he would die of a broken heart. He was already certain of it.

  Chapter Eleven

  Kelton chose not to accompany Bramwell to the indoor archery range, although he usually enjoyed watching his friend’s impressive skill in that sport. Instead, he rang for their valets, who cleared the remnants of their breakfast dishes, and then he showered quickly and dressed for the day.

  Once that was taken care of, he retrieved his cittern. Playing the instrument always helped clear his head and focus his thoughts in a way nothing else did. He’d learned to play the stringed instrument as well as others, including a pianoforte, when he was very young. His tutors told his parents he had a gift for music, but they hadn’t wanted their young prince to grow up to be a musician. He had duties to live up to, after all, and a birthright to exercise.

  Kelton had decided he could have both, and so had refused to give up his lessons, or give up collecting instruments. This particular one was his favorite. It was over one hundred years old and the strings had been replaced many times, but the sound was still as rich and strong as if the instrument were new.

  He’d been working on composing a piece of music, but hadn’t chosen a theme or a title. Now, as he stared at the haphazard notes on the lined paper, he smiled. Then he picked up his quill and wrote at the top of the page, For Dakota. It suited her, both because of the lively yet romantic quality to the tune he’d composed so far, and because he now understood that he’d never truly given his heart to any other woman, including Venus.

  That had been a young man’s lust and infatuation with a woman who was wise to the ways of sex and the world. This wasn’t the same thing. Not even close. Dakota was the woman he’d always imagined spending his life with, but he wanted to know her better. He needed to understand what her life had been like before she’d crossed over. He longed to discover her likes and dislikes, right down to the way she preferred to butter her bread. His desire to possess not only her body but her heart and her very soul was almost obsessive in its intensity.

  And it was that obsession and longing he tried to pour into the music now as he strummed and wrote more notes, hummed and changed his mind, altering a note here and there. He was so engrossed in his work that he didn’t notice anyone had entered the room until he heard someone clear their throat softly.

  He whirled around and smiled at the sight of Dakota, dressed for the day with her dark blonde hair pinned up by combs, and wearing a striking green dress that made her eyes shine. “I see you finally allowed Penelope to help you dress.”

  “Yes. I’m corseted, wearing tights, and look…” She lifted her skirts slightly. “I even have on proper boots. I’m told they’re proper because of the dainty heels. Personally, I’d be more comfortable in athletic shoes, but when I asked about wearing those, Penelope gave me a look that suggested I belonged in a padded cell.”

  Kelton laughed, his heart racing at the sound of her voice and the light in her eyes. “Have you taken your potion? It’s well after noon already.”

  “Yes, Sire. Penelope woke me precisely at eleven, made me drink it while she watched, and then I took a shower.”

  “Did you sleep well?”

  “Like the dead. Thank you, both of you, for letting me rest. I didn’t realize how tired I was until she woke me, and I finally felt rested for the first time all week.”

  “As much as we’d rather have ravished you, I had to agree this time with Bramwell that you needed your sleep.”

  “Where is he?”

  “The archery range. We have an indoor one. It’s snowing outside, and quite beautiful, but very cold.”

  “Archery?”

  “He shoots quite well. We’ll have to take you there sometime.”

  “I would love that.” She pointed toward his cittern. “It that a lute?”

  “Come over and have a look. It’s similar to a lute, but it’s called a cittern.”

  “Oh, how amazing.” She took a seat next to him and he inhaled the scent of lilies. Perfect for her. “May I see it?”

  He handed her the instrument. “It has metal strings, unlike most of the instruments from this period. Are you familiar with these types of instruments?”

  “They’re not common anymore, but yes, I am. What were you playing on it? I loved it. It reminded me of medieval tunes about kings and castles, and fair maidens waiting for their noble knights to return from battle.”

  He smiled at the image her description of the music evoked. That wasn’t too far from the truth. “It’s a tune about you, actually.”

  The look on her face melted his heart and made his cock jump to attention. “Me?”

  He pointed toward the paper. “Do you read music?”

  “Yes, a little. When did you write this? Just now?”

  “Most of it, yes.”

  “That’s incredible. I can’t imagine being able to sit down and just compose music. Do you play other instruments?”

  “Almost every string, and I can play a pianoforte.”

  “Will you play your cittern for me now?”

  How could he refuse such a request, especially coming from a beautiful woman with big green eyes?

  * * * *

  Dakota listened to the sounds of the cittern, which reminded her of the sound a zither made, but Kelton’s skill made the instrument sing in a way she’d never heard before. He hummed the tune along with his playing, and his voice was sultry and clear. He probably sang as well, and she would love to hear him do so. He was such an introspective man at times, and now she understood why. He was a musician, an artist, and that made them kindred spirits.

  When he finished, she clapped, and then she leaned over and kissed him. “Thank you. I love it. Have you written other pieces?”

  “Plenty of them. I have two drawers full of compositions.” He frowned. “In telling you that, I just realized we never procured paints and canvas for you. We did promise you that.”

  “It can wait. Right now, I’d love to hear you play more of your
songs.”

  Kelton stared at her for long moments, and she began to wonder if she’d inadvertently insulted him, but then he cupped her face gently and kissed her. She knew the men had a pact that if they made love to her, it would be together, but right now the temptation to beg him to fuck her was very strong. She wrapped her arms around him and deepened the kiss, and it was Kelton who broke it first.

  His forehead was covered in a fine sheen of sweat and she could see the struggle on his face. “Bramwell and I may need to alter our asinine agreement.”

  “Forgive me, Sire. I couldn’t help myself. It was the music and watching you play.”

  “I understand. I would likely feel the same way watching you paint.” He stood, and her gaze went straight to his breeches. He was hard again. These two amazed her. “I have an idea. Let us ask River and Penelope to set about procuring paints and canvas for you. While they take care of that, I’ll take you to the archery range so you can watch Bramwell’s skill at that sport.”

  “I would love that. Thank you.”

  This was what she’d been waiting for. To get to know them in ways other than the sex gods they were. She knew there had to be more depth to their lives than fulfilling their birthright and waiting around the castle to see what would happen with Enfield.

  As they made their way toward the indoor archery range, accompanied, of course, by a contingent of guards, Dakota let her thoughts return to what Penelope had told her this morning while helping her into the corset, tights, and dress she now wore. The sorcerer from Galatyn, Keira, had been invited by King Atheron to stay at the castle indefinitely.

  Their king wanted to hear about the power given to Reginald himself, and he wanted to make sure Keira was the real deal. He was convinced the same magick in the portraits and in King Reginald’s descendants was the key to their defeating Enfield and breaking the curse placed on their women. When Dakota had asked Penelope how the king had come to that conclusion, Penelope said she didn’t know.

  It sounded like one hell of a hopeful leap to Dakota, but maybe that was because she didn’t understand all the nuances involved? She’d only been here one week, but already had learned this world had a convoluted history, with political implications that rivaled any back home.

  As her thoughts turned toward home once more, this time she let them wander there. What must Jared and Mark think by now? And her family must be worried sick. If only there was a way to let them know she was okay, she wouldn’t be so torn right now. Was the portrait still in her condo, or had it disappeared? Whether it was still there or not, they had all likely assumed the worst about her by now, and she hated that. The image of them calling the police, posting her picture online, and combing the area around her condo for her body made her want to throw up.

  Maybe this sorcerer could at least find a way for her to reach them and tell them she was safe. Even if she couldn’t return, just to let her friends and family know she wasn’t dead or hurt would be enough. Because if Dakota were being brutally honest with herself, she didn’t want to leave.

  She gave Kelton’s hand a squeeze and he returned the gesture, smiling down at her. He and Bramwell were larger than life and everything she’d ever wanted. How could she walk away? It had only been seven days, but how much time did a person need to know they’d found a soul mate? Or, in this instance, two soul mates?

  She had once asked Jared if he’d known Mark was the one when they first met, and he’d answered “yes” without the slightest hesitation. Dakota believed in fairy tales now more than she ever had before. She’d stepped into one, or in this case, she’d fallen into one and was living it.

  This was real. Her feelings for Kelton and Bramwell were real. This castle with all its intrigue and political upheaval were real, and she didn’t want to leave it. She only hoped they wouldn’t encourage her to return if and when that time came, or it would break her heart.

  The indoor archery range was on one of the lowest levels of the castle, and it was in the same area as the indoor tennis courts. The place reminded her of a gigantic gym, and it smelled like one, too. Watching Bramwell shoot arrows with a bow made her entire body tingle. They stood behind a glass barrier that allowed her to see him, but would protect them both from any errant arrows. Not that he shot any. He hit the center of the targets every time.

  “How long has he been doing this?”

  “Since he could hold a bow. We all learn to shoot arrows as well as pistols. It’s part of our upbringing. The men in the villages do as well, and they need to be proficient at both to be considered for training as a guard.”

  “I can understand why.”

  Bramwell was in his shirt and breeches, without the waistcoat, and she could see the muscles in his arms and back working. His hair was damp. He must have been at this for a long time already today.

  “Do you remember us telling you about Anne and Lawrence?” asked Kelton.

  “Yes.”

  “That was one of the things that tipped off Prince Denver that something wasn’t quite right in Lawrence’s background. His father told him that Lawrence had no eye for shooting, and yet Denver remembered an incident where he, Archer, and Roland witnessed Lawrence pull off a shot that few could make.”

  She glanced around, but the guards were talking amongst themselves. Just the same, she leaned closer and lowered her voice. “Who chooses your valets?”

  “The Council does.”

  She nodded, then returned to watching Bramwell. It was such an odd existence, but then it was normal to them. To have servants chosen by men whom they trusted, and then to find out some of those men had betrayed everyone, must be horrible. It reminded her of so many things back home with respect to their governments. Things weren’t so different here, after all.

  “So you’re a musician and Prince Bramwell has a skill for archery. What else do you two like to do?”

  He gave her a molten look of lust and she laughed, the heat rising to her face. “I’m being serious, Sire. Tell me what it was like growing up with Prince Bramwell. You two have always been friends, right?”

  Kelton leaned close and whispered, “Thank you for remembering to address us as such in the company of others.”

  “I’m trying to remember everything you told me, Sire.”

  He nuzzled her neck and her pussy grew wet. “I know you are. Thank you. We shall reward you when we return to our suite.”

  Dakota sighed, her breathing coming in quick gasps now. This man pushed all rational thought from her mind and drove her to distraction, and she absolutely loved him for it.

  Chapter Twelve

  Dakota watched Bramwell stretch during a break, and then he glanced toward the barrier and caught sight of them. A huge smile graced his handsome face and he waved. She waved back, and then he held up both hands, splaying his fingers, and she took that to mean he intended to practice for ten more minutes. Kelton nodded, and then as Bramwell returned to his shooting, Kelton glanced down at her.

  “Yes, we grew up together, although our parents couldn’t have been more different. Mine weren’t keen on the idea of my taking so many music lessons, but finally relented when my tutors told them how much talent I had, and after I refused to stop collecting instruments or taking lessons.”

  “If you don’t mind my asking, why wouldn’t they encourage you to continue something that was obviously your passion?”

  “You have to understand how most of us were raised. Our birthright, our heritage, all of it. Passions and frivolous pursuits weren’t something they were taught to encourage in young princes.”

  She nodded. “Is that why B—Prince Bramwell was allowed to pursue archery? Or was he made to do it?”

  “No, he always preferred sports. He loves to be outdoors. He shoots and hunts quite well, and his parents were more than happy to encourage those skills, but his father was quite strict with him and his siblings. They would wake them up in the middle of the night and force them to do lessons, and they would deny them food becau
se they believed hunger caused one’s thoughts to become sharp.”

  “No wonder he’s always wanting me to eat and sleep.”

  “Yes. It’s not something he’s ever fully recovered from, and I imagine if he were blessed with children one day, he would spoil them rotten and do the opposite of what his parents had done to him.” The look he gave her nearly took her breath away. “As would I, of course.”

  The guards didn’t appear to be listening, but it was so hard to tell, so she leaned closer and lowered her voice even further. “Is that something you both want?”

  “It is. I suppose you might as well know that, Dakota. It’s always been what we both wanted, but we were never sure we’d find women with whom we were allowed to have such a relationship.”

  Her pulse raced, and it was difficult to process all the emotions coursing through her, so instead she simply gazed into his eyes and let him talk.

  “But something happened to us that night. The night you crossed over. We both felt it. We’ve heard similar sensations expressed by Jarrett, Colton, Jaxon, Parker, Denver, Archer, and Roland when they talked about having looked into the eyes of Abigail, Brenna, and Chelsea for the first time. They called to them, just as you called to us.”

  She swallowed hard against the sudden lump in her throat. “I don’t know what to say, Sire. I, too, felt unfamiliar sensations when I saw you both for the first time.” It was true, but she hadn’t wanted to say anything for fear of sounding foolish. Now she knew she had no reason to worry about such a thing, and it was both overwhelming and joyful to realize it.

  “I want to tell you a story about myself,” he said. “When I was sixteen, a woman name Venus worked at the castle for a short while as a tutor in the pianoforte. She was my tutor on the instrument, replacing one who had retired from teaching. She was twenty-three, and played men like a well-worn instrument, pun intended.”