by Chloe Cole
As I ran up the stairs to my room, one thought echoed in my mind like the insistent beat of a drum.
Now that I’d known this…the Saint John brothers and all they had to give and all they made me feel?
How was I to go back?
Chapter 15
"Open the door, Anaya."
The steely note of a command rang through loud and clear in Lucian's voice but I was too far gone to care.
"Open the door, woman, or I'll tear it off the hinges."
It was a promise not a threat, and one easily kept. There was no point in pressing him. If he wanted in, he'd come in. Nothing I could do or say would stop him.
I moved to the door and unlocked it before yanking it open.
"I'd really rather be alone right now," I murmured miserably, swiping the tears from my face as I stepped aside to make room for Lucian to enter.
"And I'm not done talking with you," he countered, towering over me.
"I get it. I made a mess of things again. I just..." I turned and fixed my gaze just beyond his broad shoulder. "I couldn't help it.”
“I know that. And I wanted to come and tell you once again that it wasn’t your fault. I hate to see you cry. It makes me want to tear someone in two and, unfortunately for me, I’m the cause.”
My tears dried at his sweet words and I wiped my eyes one last time. “You’re not. I know I should, but I don’t regret what we did. It felt so good…so right.”
My whispered admission had him closing his eyes and letting out another pained groan. In a rush, all the feelings that had finally been vanquished in the brilliance of that climax came flooding back. The pressure, the ache, the need. Only now, I knew there was an end game. A magnificent, glowing beacon on the other side of desire and it was just inches away.
No. My brain snapped back into place and I willed myself not to think of that now. Such things could harm them all if the king found out, and I’d made a vow that I would never break. But…
"Lucian?" I heard myself say as I met his gaze once more.
He seemed like he didn't even want to reply but then he did, gruffly. "What?"
"Does it feel the same for you? For males, I mean?"
The question was meant to be just that. A simple query.
But it felt like the swing of an axe coming down between us.
The night that had been so clear earlier now crackled as lightning shattered the sky, again lighting Lucian's face. He was so still, he might've been carved from stone. But he wasn't. No one knew it more than me now. I'd felt him...the heat of his flesh, the slide of his all-too mortal hands.
I waited with bated breath, wondering if he would answer.
Just when I thought I couldn't take the silence another second, he spoke.
"Aye. It's the same, more or less."
It was best to leave it at that, of this I was sure. Only, I didn't.
I couldn't.
I took a tentative step closer and laid my hand on his heart, the heavy beat of it lending me a dose of much-needed courage.
"And is that against the rules?" I asked just as rain began to patter on the shutters in a staccato beat.
He hesitated again and I could tell he was at war with himself.
"It's not, no. The king knows better than to try and forbid such a thing. He’d find himself quickly without tutors. So long as there is no--" He stopped short and speared a hand through his black hair, before continuing. "As long as there is no penetration when it happens or risk of pregnancy, he does not forbid it."
I had so many more questions that required answers but, in that instant, I could only focus on one thing.
Making Lucian feel the way he'd made me feel earlier tonight.
I let my fingers drift lower, down the buttons of his cotton shirt, to the waist of his pants, stopping only when I reached the buttons. He didn't stop me as I lifted my other hand and unfastened one, then two of them. Instead, his head fell back, his hands fisting at his sides.
"Ah, woman, if you only knew what you were about you'd be much more cautious. I'm convinced of it," he bit out. He might as well have been shouting to the wind for all that I heard him, though. The tips of my fingers had encountered the silkiest skin I'd ever touched and I was entranced, craning my head to try and see what I could so clearly feel.
"I didn't know it would be so soft," I murmured, running my thumb over the very tip of his member again.
"If my balls weren't three shades of blue and it didn't hurt to laugh, I'd be doubled over right now. Soft indeed," he muttered on a harsh groan.
I ignored him again and freed the rest of his buttons, yanking the sides of cloth open until his manhood sprang forward. I'd seen my share in the book Gatlin had given me, and had felt it pressed against me, but nothing could've prepared me for the reality of it.
Hard and long, thick as my arm, it pulsed with life and vitality much like its owner. And, right now, it appeared just as angry, the head swollen and hot as I gently squeezed. Another bolt of lightning lit the room and I dropped lower, greedily taking in the sight of him. A single, creamy pearl of liquid welled from the slit at the head of it, and instinctively, I rubbed it with my thumb.
"This isn't the lesson for today, Anaya," he ground out, his hands flexing and releasing at his sides. "You don't have to do this--"
Thunder rolled through the house, obliterating the rest of his muttered words as I looked up to meet his gaze, but I'd heard enough.
"I know that, Lucian," I said, a smile trembling on my lips. "I want to."
I vaguely heard his strangled growl as I dipped my head toward him and pressed my lips to his cock. His musky scent, that of clean sweat and linen and manhood--filled my head even as his taste filled my mouth. Salty and just a little bitter, I realized in wonder, and I suckled gently for more.
"Ah, fuck, woman," he grunted, his clenching hands now moving to my hair. Rather than gripping it hard as he had earlier, his touch was firm but gentle as he encouraged me to take him deeper into my mouth. My lips stretched to accommodate him as I drew gently on his flesh, applying suction. "That's it. That's exactly right. Suck it," he commanded, his voice so low and harsh, it sounded as if he'd swallowed glass.
A quiver ran straight to my core and I felt a now familiar rush of wet heat as I did as he said, bobbing my head onto him, pulling him deeper...deep enough that he was wedged in, thick head butted up against the tender flesh of my throat.
"That mouth is on fire. I can hardly..."
He pulled back with a groan, using his hands to guide my head back far enough that I almost expelled him completely.
Surely, it wasn't over. Surely, that wasn't it yet. I slid my arms around his hips and tried to guide him deeper again.
"I am about to come like some pathetic cub," he said with a pained laugh. "So you need to give me a minute. I'm still your tutor and me spurting into your mouth after a second isn't going to help you."
The reminder of what this was...what we were, almost made me release him and stand. It was a dangerous game to have let things get this far and become so attached. Surely, every new experience was only going to make it harder.
Only, I couldn't. Not without seeing him break apart the way I had for him. Not without making sure I took as big a piece of him when I left as he had of me.
“Tell me what you like.”
I waited as the rain poured down and the lightning sent electrical currents zinging around us, like Mother Nature herself felt the depth of our passion.
"A man likes to imagine the woman enjoys it too," he said finally, his low voice cutting through the cacophony. "Sucking hard is good, but licking and teasing and loving it?" His strong throat worked as he stared down at me like I was the only woman in the world. "That's what a male truly wants."
My whole body vibrated with the desire to continue, so I knew it wouldn't take much to rise to the challenge. I carefully took his length in hand, squeezing him, marveling over the velvet-over-stone feel of it. With whispered words
of praise, I stroked him up and down, lapping at his distended tip with each pass. Long, firm strokes that only made his cock fuller.
"You're a wonder, lass. Don't let anyone tell you different," he muttered, hands diving back into my hair again. "Free and open, strong but fragile. Any man would be lucky to have you." His words came faster now, tripping over one another as his hips began to move in time with my motions. With each pass, I took him deeper, hollowing my cheeks to create suction, using my hand to work the inches I couldn't take into my mouth.
"There has never been a lass so fine," he whispered. "Never one so honest and good. So fucking sensual and responsive."
His words, combined with the intoxicating taste of him, were making my thighs quake and my channel pulse with the need to be filled again. I used all that need and passion, channeling it into my movements, letting him feel what I was feeling the best way I knew how. His hips began to pump harder as his cock twitched and jerked.
"Fuck, that's it, woman. I'm going to come." His fingers tightened convulsively into my hair as he bellowed loud enough to shake the rafters. Hot, salty liquid spurted against my throat in a rush, filling my mouth. I held on tight, gripping his hips and anchoring him close to me as I rode the wave with him, elated. Electric. Wild with his need and mine.
My heart was still pounding frantically when it was over, all too soon. He pulled back gently and I disengaged, rocking back on my toes as I swiped a hand over my swollen lips.
It wasn’t until then that I noticed my fangs had punched through my gums.
Lucian bent low and drew me to my feet, his gaze locked on my mouth.
“I need you to know that if I could stay even another moment, I would.” His face, that had been slack with ecstasy just moments before, was once again taut with tension as his own fangs lengthened and the musky scent surrounding us grew even more intoxicating. “But I cannot lie. I am one false move away from tossing you on that bed and eating you alive in the best way and it wouldn’t stop there. So, for your protection, I have to go. But if you don’t see me for a day or two, it’s not rejection, lass.”
He cupped my jaw and it took all my strength not to press my teeth against his wrist and clamp down in a love bite.
“I meant every word that I said to you tonight, Anaya. You’re special and no matter what happens, never forget it.”
With that, he crushed his mouth to mine for one, fleeting moment and then turned and stalked out of the room.
Another Saint John brother taking a piece of me with him.
As I lay awake in bed that night, hot and aching as I thought of each of them in turn, I began to wonder yet again if there would be anything left of me when it was all over.
Chapter 16
I woke up the following morning to an eerily quiet house. When I went to look around, I realized that, aside from two of the servants who were busy polishing the silver, the place was empty.
"Good morning! Where is everyone?" I asked Jessa, the maid that did my laundry most often.
She greeted me with a smile before holding up a fork to the sunlight streaming in the window to inspect her work. "The masters went on a morning ride. They said they had some business to take care of and would be back shortly."
"Aye," the second maid, an older woman named Clara, said with a nod. "And Connor told me that you're to meet him in his chambers at noon for your next lesson.”
I chewed on my lower lip and turned to leave the room before hesitating.
"Can you tell me, I’ve been meaning to ask and haven’t seen it mentioned in any of my readings…how long does the average girl stay here?"
The maids exchanged glances, as if unsure whether they should answer, but then Clara met my gaze. "It really depends, Miss. Some stay for three weeks, some for more than a month. Last one was here, what do you say, Jessa? Five weeks?"
Jessa nodded and set the last of her silverware into a wooden tray. "Just under. Maybe thirty-three days, if I recall. She was a real beauty." Her lips pursed as she let out a low whistle of admiration.
For some reason, that thought made my muscles tense and ignited an ugly flame of jealousy inside me. I traced the elaborate carving on the back of one of the high dining chairs and tried to keep my tone light. "Was she? Did she and the brothers get along well, then?"
Clara let out a cackle and shook her head. "Nah. She liked them well enough--they all do--but she was chatty. Constantly babbling about this bauble or that dress. I think they were glad to be rid of her."
Jessa’s eyes widened as she sent Clara a glare, whose meaning wasn't hard to determine.
"Not that I'm telling tales out of school, you understand, Miss," Clara added quickly, polishing the ladle she was holding so hard I wondered if she might set it ablaze. "She was a lovely girl. I had no complaints and if the king selected her, I'm sure he knows best."
"To be sure," I agreed in a murmur, perversely glad that the last girl the Saint John brothers had tutored had been at least somewhat annoying.
I tried to think of some excuse to stay in the dining room and see what other tidbits I might learn about both my hosts and the king or his harem but Clara cleared her throat and leaned conspiratorially closer.
"I don't mean to pry, Miss, but a word of advice?" She paused, waiting for permission to proceed, which I gave with a quick nod. "Don't get attached."
My cheeks flamed and I drew back, flustered. "Oh, no, of course not. Don't be silly. I don't feel any kind of way about them and--"
Patty cut in with a sympathetic, placating smile. "We're sure of it, Miss. We only mention it because it happens. We've seen more than a few girls leave here in tears, and knowing ahead of time can save you a world of hurt. Better to think of your time here like a holiday," she encouraged.
Clara nodded briskly in agreement. "Exactly. A dream holiday. What woman wouldn't love to be at the center of these men, after all? Even as maids here, they treat us so well. We have our own beds and eat the same meals they enjoy. We're allowed to take time off for family visits and never have to worry about money. But ours is the only permanent position here at the Saint John estate, you understand? The girls that come through spend the time needed and then it's back to reality. If I do say so myself, your reality is going to be quite lovely, Miss. Surrounded by servants to cater to your every whim and all that. I heard they have a bathtub the size of the fountain out front. Big enough for a dozen people, if you can believe. And they dry off with Turkish towels so soft, you could polish the shell of an egg with them."
She frowned and shrugged.
“Sure, there are some not so pleasant rumors every now and again, probably out of jealousy, but I don’t give them any weight. Oh!” she said, practically quivering with excitement. “And I’ve also heard that the king sends the girls over bowls of fruit from all around the world. Citrus and berries and fresh melon." She smacked her lips together. "If you feel a little sad about leaving, just think of that, won't you?”
I swallowed a sigh and nodded, pasting on a smile. "Yes. It does sound lovely."
I considered asking about the rumors but then opted to keep quiet. Rumors were part of every society and clearly the word about the city was that being in the harem was grand. The last thing I wanted to do was make them think I was ungrateful. I'd been selected for one of the highest honors in all of Ironhaven. What kind of person spat in the face of that?
I threw my shoulders back and nodded. "Thank you for the chat, ladies. It was exactly what I needed to get my spirits up. I think I was just feeling a case of nerves, was all."
Both bobbed their heads in reply and I stepped away from the table. "I'll leave you to your work, then. If anyone is looking for me, I'll be in my quarters.”
For the next two hours, I lay on my cushy featherbed, trying to imagine life in the harem. The king was handsome enough. Actually, if I was being objective, I might say he was one of the most handsome in all the land. But there was something just a little too polished about him. Something that felt a bi
t too practiced.
"Stop it, silly girl," I muttered, throwing my arm over my eyes with a groan. I'd met him twice, for crying out loud. Once when he was spearheading a massive ceremony, the success of which had a major impact on population growth, and the second time at a ball surrounded by tons of important people. He had seemed a little phony because it was politics. He had bellies to scratch and offended lords to appease. Surely, behind closed doors, he would be far more relaxed.
But would he touch me the way Gatlin did? Or look at me the way Michael did? Or--
"Enough!"
"I haven't even done anything yet," a low voice with a hint of laughter said through the door. "But I was just about to knock. May I come in?"
I sat upright and shot a glance to the grandfather clock in the corner of my room and gasped. Ten past twelve. I'd been so caught up in working myself into a nervous tizzy, I'd missed the start of my lesson with Connor.
"Of course."
I swung my legs off the bed as the youngest of the Saint John brothers stepped into my room. My breath caught as I took in his appearance.
He'd bypassed the usual, more formal britches and button down shirt and vest he typically wore, in favor of a pair of cotton pants that clung to every lean line of his body. His shirt was nothing more than an undershirt, and he filled it out so well it was more like a coat of paint than clothing. He practically glowed with health and vitality, probably from his morning in the sun, I thought enviously, wishing I could've been there with them. I wet my lips and met his twinkling gaze.
"See anything that interests you, love?" he asked, sweeping his hands over his body and downward.
I managed to hold back a chuckle as I stood, grateful that his joke had lessened the tension. "You look...interesting, I'll say that. What type of lesson, exactly, is this that requires you to dress like an acrobat?"
"Not an acrobat, silly," he said, tsking me with a shake of his head as he stepped forward and took my arm, forcing me to loop mine through his. "This is my massage-wear."
