Takedown: An Enemies to Lovers Dark Romance

by Lana Hartley

“You play something.” He demonstrates as if I don’t know what he means by playing some keys.

  “I…okay.”

  “Music, Isadora, is the best way to express ourselves. Music’s a beast. And a princess.” He grins. Oh, Nathan. “I bet Vincent can’t play,” he says with a smirk as sharp as a knife.

  “Well, what do you want me to play?”

  “Isadora, play what you want to play. Play how you feel right now.”

  I admit I’m a little intimidated by this. I’m shy when it comes to certain things. I’m not a show off. I’m not an entertainer in any sense of the word.

  “Well…”

  “Isadora,” Nathan says, somewhat dark and short. “I’m not a man of patience, you know.”

  “I know.” I grin. The lightning bug lights up again as I bravely place my fingers on the keys and start playing. I have no idea what I’m doing, but there’s something fun and fascinating about it. About just hearing what comes out.

  It takes me a minute, but I find my stride playing a lovely tune. Nathan gets up and walks around so he’s standing behind me in those sexy jeans of his. I’m dying to feel him all over again, but I finish the song first.

  “That was lovely, Isadora. See? You don’t know what you’re capable of until you just let yourself go.”

  “Thanks.”

  “What’s the song called?” he asks of the song I just played.

  “Firefly,” I smile. “It can be our song.”

  “Perfect,” Nathan says as he unzips his jeans. His delicious cock pops out. I can’t get over how thick it is, beautifully pink.

  I stare at it as he comes over, and I stand up to greet him with a kiss. He picks me up, my little feet dangling as he places me on the piano.

  He reaches back and pulls the zipper down my back so my dress loosens and the straps fall off my shoulders. He traces his hands over the silk cups of my bra. I sigh.

  “Let’s just stay naked this time,” I say.

  “Okay, firefly,” Nathan says.

  “I need you…so much,” I say. He leans forward and kisses me. “I love you,” I say it. There. When I say I need him, what I really mean is I love him anyway.

  “I love you too, Isadora.”

  His warm hand glides down my leg to my foot and squeezes it.

  “Ahhh…” I sigh.

  “I’m going to worship you tonight,” Nathan says to my delight. “As you should be worshipped every night.”

  He takes my ankle in his strong fingers and squeezes it and kisses it softly.

  I laugh because it tickles just a little. “Nathan!”

  “Shush, my lovely,” he says.

  I try to relax, but I want him so bad.

  “In due time, Isadora.” I feel his lips press against the inside of my knees. He can smell me. I blush at this fact. My panties are still somewhere near the piano keys.

  He slowly reaches up, his index finger just inches from my clitoris, then he touches me there. It’s a soft touch, but it feels so heavy, like it can shift the entire planet.

  “That’s my favorite key,” he says, still caressing my feet with his fingers. “I know I’m the one for you, Isadora,” he says, injecting his finger into me.

  “Tell me you belong to me,” he says. Nathan wants to be in control, and when he feels himself slipping and losing control, he gets that boyish tantrum look on his face.

  “I…belong…” He adds another finger and slips my toes between his teeth. They slide over his fat, wet tongue. “To you…”

  He squeezes my foot and starts fingering me hard, moving his fingers around to target all the right spots.

  “OH…” My body lifts from the piano, and my other foot hits the keys. This is a good song, I think, with a smile on my face that lingers until he adds a third finger.

  “NATHAN!”

  “Hmm?” His response is light and means nothing. What matters is what he’s doing to me.

  My body rapidly uncurls in his grip as another orgasm rips through me. Even though I’ve passed the point of pleasure, Nathan kneels before me and licks me clean of my cum. After he's cleaned he cleans me out, he climbs onto his knees on the piano and kisses me hungrily as his hands roam my breasts. He’s insatiable, a starving need to devour me.

  He reaches for the flask of whiskey I hadn’t noticed and offers it to me. I take a swig and feel it warm me up inside. As I hand it to him our fingers slide along each other’s. I take his hand and inhale the scent of his skin, smelling myself on his flesh. We lie down on the piano, a comfortable calm embracing us. The sound of crickets echo louder in the distance, but there’s also a richness about the silence of everything else. I’m not sure what he’s thinking, but I don’t bother with interrupting the peaceful tranquillity between is. Sometimes silence is needed.

  “When I can’t sleep, I think about the softness of your lips,” Nathan’s voice cuts into the night.

  “Really?” I question, surprised that he’s willingly offering this admission to me.

  “I have nightmares.”

  “Oh? I didn’t know.”

  “I don’t really talk about it that much. They’re…pretty scary.” His brow furrows like he’s trying to push the thought from his mind.

  I want to comfort him, calm him. I run my hand along his face, and he shuts his wonderful brown eyes.

  “There’s this woman…” he says, swallowing. His hair is black, running down like a thick river of luscious locks along the middle of his head. “She’s at the door, she has this…weird smile on her face, but it’s not the type of smile that, you know, a good person has. She’s…her eyes are all beady, and she doesn’t have much hair. She’s trying to appear friendly as she attempts to get in my house.”

  “Oh, Nathan, that sounds so scary.”

  “It is.”

  He swallows over a sore lump of fear, and I watch his Adam’s apple jut forward.

  “What can I do?” I ask. I want to help him.

  “You already do…it…you help me, Isadora, you calm me down. I used to have these nightmares every night, but since I started making love to you, they’ve ended.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. I don’t know who the woman is, but I feel like it has something to do with my childhood. I feel like she did something, and now she’s trying to do it again.”

  “Nathan, baby.” I reach over to him and pull him near, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. I want him to know I want to keep him safe. We’re both protective of each other, holding each other, and caring for each other through the night.

  Fireflies fill the vast space lighting up around us like golden light bulbs. It’s a magical moment, and I want to fall asleep in his arms, his warm naked body pressed close to mine. We can wake up on the piano as it’s striped in warm sunshine, and we can fall into each other again, greeting each other with morning kisses.

  It’s very quiet when I wake up to find Nathan studying me. I gaze into his eyes as he nears me, puckering his lips. I giggle and shut my eyes, and our lips press together. It’s a sleepy kind of kiss, our lips lazily sliding over each other’s necks. I slide my hand across his smooth chest, revelling in the tightness of his taut muscles. My hand meanders down the length of his cock, the thickness heavy and erect against my thigh.

  I smile and admit, “I have no idea how you fit all of this into your jeans. It’s impressive.”

  “It’s always a challenge to find that perfect pair of jeans,” he says. “Just like it was a challenge to find that perfect woman, but I did. I found you.” He runs his fingers through my hair and claims my mouth with his, rolling on top of me. His hungry cock probes against me, and I spread my legs and wrap them around his back, pulling his against my heat.

  “Ahhh,” I moan as he slides up inside of me. He’s harder than he’s been all night, maybe it’s a very early version of morning wood. He moves perfectly, slow but with a determined stride. He feels different from Vincent. Vincent is a very sweet guy and good in his own way when it comes t
o sex, but— at least right now—I’m more into Nathan. And he’s very into me.

  “Oh…” I moan, his movements precise and hitting all the right spots.

  “Let me be on top,” I say. He rolls so he’s beneath me, and I cast my glance out over the edge of daybreak lighting up the sky. Those fireflies are gone. Where do they go during the day? They don’t light up, right? Until night comes? That is when their heart works.

  “Let’s meet here every night,” I say. His gorgeous toes are on the piano keys and he starts making music and we laugh.

  “Imagine all the music we can write,” he snickers.

  A distinct rustling sound catches my attention, and I worry perhaps we’re being watched.

  Is it Vincent? I look over at the door to the conservatory room, but no one is there. He could have been though, seconds earlier before the noise faded to silence.

  Nathan caresses my face as he studies me, his brows furrowed in concern. “You okay?”

  “Yes,” I say and I rise up on top of him. All twelve inches of his cock slides inside of me, filling me to the hilt.

  I ride him slowly, building my momentum to a steady and hard pace. His rough hands keep a tight grip around my hips, his fingers probing roughly into my flesh. I look down and gaze into his brown eyes and the lustful darkness in his appearance sends me over the edge. I circle my hips, grinding against his thick length, but suddenly my eyes cut to the door again. Why am I so paranoid?

  Nathan stills inside me and tightens his grip on my hip. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  I nod and focus on working my pussy up and down his length. Me and then I rise up again and ride him and ride him and ride him, harder and harder and harder.

  My core tightens as heat rushes through me, my orgasm right on the cusp of explosion. Nathan’s lips part as he wraps his long fingers around my neck, his thumb pressing into my throat as he takes control of each thrust he pounds up into me. His back bows off the piano and his face contorts painfully as he spills inside of me. A ravenous roar rips through his chest, spurring a whimpered mewl from my lips as my orgasm crashes into his release. I collapse against his chest and look outside at the garden. The sky is a brighter blue now. Nathan’s breathing is rampant as he calms himself, peppering kisses across my face and neck just as he always does after we’ve had sex.

  I think about what he told me earlier about the nightmares. I imagine him waking up in the middle of the night, terrified of this woman who haunts his dreams, his gorgeous body covered in sweat. Who is she? I wonder as I hold him.

  “When did they start?” I ask. We sit up, and I drink his whiskey. I pass it to him, and he takes a few swigs then passes it back to me.

  “When I was about fourteen.”

  “Did anything happen before then?”

  He has his arm draped around my lower back and my face is against his chest. He takes his time answering me. I think this is hard for him to talk about.

  He squeezes me and kisses the top of my head.

  “I don’t know…” he says.

  Morning breaks through the sky with birdsong and just like night has ended, so has Nathan’s dark story. He’s not going to talk about it anymore, but at the same time, he’s started to open up to me, and I appreciate it. I want to show him how much I appreciate it.

  “Nathan,” I whisper. He looks at me; his eyes are sleepy and soft. I run my fingers through his hair, straightening it out.

  “You don’t get up early ever do you? You’re not a morning person,” I say. He looks at me with a stare that holds a lot of stillness. Our clothes are still all over the conservatory. I’m a little nervous that someone will come in here, because this is the choice room to have breakfast or sip on that first delicious morning cup of Joe.

  But nothing is going to ruin this for me. I want to do it to him now, and I want to do it to him in this room.

  He is lying across the top of the piano. There’s so much I want to ask him, and not just about whatever it was that happened in his childhood to start such bad dreams.

  “Did you have a piano when you were a kid?” I ask him.

  “Uhhh…” His voice is groggy and raspy this time of morning. Oh my. It gets me wet. I run my hand along his body and down his smooth ripped chest.

  “Yeah, well, my mom did.”

  It’s his mom, I somehow think this, the woman in the dream. Why do I think this? I’m also kind of obsessed with the feeling that we were being watched last night by someone.

  These thoughts mess with me, but only for a minute. Pretty soon I’m back to what I want to do this morning, before anyone comes in here with mouthy morning thoughts, randomness they feel the need to share.

  I can already smell breakfast being whipped up—delicious eggs, biscuits, gravy, sausage and bacon. I could go for some orange juice after this long night of lovemaking.

  But there’s another kind of juice I want first.

  I run my hands down his length, feeling the heaviness of his cock and balls. I crawl to my knees and trail my tongue up his cock and over the opening.

  “Oh…” His body lifts from the piano in a graceful wave of appreciation.

  “Baby,” I say. I trace my finger over his stomach, making the shape of a heart with it.

  “Mmm…” He runs his hand through my hair and keeps his eyes closed as I make my way back down his body. I grab his thick cock and gently stroke it.

  “Oh, Isadora.”

  I picture the moment he comes, his perfect creamy cum shooting up and glazing his solid, muscular torso, and I will lick it up. This is inspiration for me to suck him harder.

  I slip a hand under his bottom and sneak a finger to his asshole, and slip it up.

  “OH! Oh god…oh…”

  Does he like it? It’s hard to tell. I suck him harder as I continue to finger his asshole.

  “Do you like it?” I ask.

  “Yes,” he says, in no time at all.

  “Do you like it, baby?” I ask again, just to hear him say yes. I want to hear how scratchy his voice is in the morning.

  “I do, I really do, Isadora…”

  I penetrate my finger deeper and suck his cock back farther in my throat.

  “Isa…dor…ahhhhhh…”

  “God, I can’t wait for you to come,” I say. “I can’t wait to taste you.”

  More delicious breakfast smells sweep down from the kitchen and into the conservatory, and I hear voices of workers milling about on the property and through the castle. Maybe it's the gardener, because I know he likes his coffee in the morning before he begins working. Or perhaps the maids and the chefs. The castle seems particularly busy for such an early morning.

  Is something grand or special happening today?

  I turn my concentration back to drawing an orgasm from Nathan, sucking him harder. Nathan doesn’t come easy sometimes, and it takes extra care and attention to make his release as pleasurable as he does for me. I squeeze a second finger inside his asshole and massage the soft walls.

  “Oh…”

  “You like that, boy?” I ask.

  “Isadora,” is all he moans. His hips thrust upward, caressing the back of my throat with the head of his dick, urgently chasing his release. I think of all the times in the past when he’s come, how he tastes, and what an eruptive load he shoots. I want it really bad. I want it to douse us both the way the sun douses the conservatory this morning, the way the sun douses the outside and all those flowers in the garden. I hear voices near the conservatory, and I wonder if this excites Nathan. Does he enjoy it the risk of passers-by hearing his grunts and groans of seduction? Does he want us to get caught?

  His eyes are hooded and glazed in desire, and I know it won’t be long before he bathes me in his come. I pull my fingers from his ass and trace soft circles over his balls, feeling them tighten as his orgasm climbs to the surface. His face contorts, and he looks helpless, like he’s being pulled down by a giant tidal wave of pleasure that’s about to break; it’s about to cras
h over my face like a wave of foamy hot cum. I can hear the low voices of a woman and a man coming closer to the conservatory, and Nathan’s breathing becomes heavier, panting rushed air from his chest. I know his release will be monumental, one big epic celebration of cum, as the head of his cock swells to bursting, spraying his velvety mixture all over my tongue. I drink him in, swallowing back every drop that he gives me. This is a beautiful start to the day.

  Vincent

  I shower and dress and then decide to head out to the conservatory to see what Nathan and Isadora are up to. Well, I know what they're up to, but I wouldn't mind watching. I'm about to head down the stairs when I catch sight of the queen and the last person on earth I expect to see in this palace. Alex Richter. Alex Richter is one of the deadliest assassins in the world. He's brutal and efficient. He never fails to take out his target, and he’s a ghost. His crimes leave no evidence, just dead bodies. He’s ruthless and without mercy. Even among killers he’s feared. Only the powerful or most dangerous people in the world know his name. I know everything Richer is capable of, I've hired him in the past.

  To say that he's dangerous is an understatement. If he's here with Ileana this must be why she cancelled her meeting with Nathan. What the fuck is she up to? Why the hell is she engaging an assassin? I need to find out. I step back concealing my presence in the shadows of the dim corridor. I resist the urge to charge down the hall and beat the answers I want out of Richter. There are million reasons why that wouldn't be smart right now. Besides I know a man like Richter would die before he'd give up his secrets. That’s one of the reasons he’s so highly paid, an indiscreet assassin is useless.

  I strain my ears trying to hear what they're saying, but they’re too far away. Though I doubt highly I’d hear anything useful. Ileana and Richter aren’t going to be discussing the specifics of his assignment in a hallway, even one that appears empty. I suspect they're heading to Ileana's office. As soon as they disappear from my line of sight, I race down to the second floor. If I move quickly I can get to Ileana's office before they do. I rush down the hallway grateful that all of the staff seem to be hard at work and not wandering the hall. I take the back stairs two at a time, and arrive to find the hallway leading to the queen’s office empty.