Naughty Cupid Trilogy

by Pillow Michelle M.

  “I must take care of you. It’s my duty as the eldest.”

  That broke Sophia’s heart. After their father died, Mina had taken over and Sophia had let her. Mina had looked out for her their entire lives.

  “No, Mina, no.” Sophia turned to her, looking at the face so like her own. Only there was a way to lessen the misery in Mina’s. “I’m too old for a caretaker. You’ve done your duty by me, but it is time you looked to yourself. Go to him. Tell him how you feel. If he’ll have you, stay. If he won’t have you, then he is a fool. Larus may seem many things to me, but a fool is not one of them.”

  “Sophia…? Won’t you reconsider? Stay with me,” Mina begged. “Stay here. You don’t have to marry. You’re the king’s ward. You’ll have food and shelter and we’ll be together. You won’t starve or freeze. Please, consider it.”

  “You know my reasons,” Sophia said. “I can’t stay, and you can’t go.”

  “Sop--”

  “No,” Sophia said, trying to hold back her emotions. “No. I said go to him. Now!”

  “I love you.”

  “I know. Go tell it to the man who doesn’t.” Sophia said. When her sister didn’t move fast enough, Sophia patted Mina’s cheek before nudging her gently toward the door. “Go, Mina!”

  When she was alone, Sophia turned back to the window. What was she going to do now?

  Chapter Two

  Sophia glanced over the crowded hall, watching her sister. Things had worked out well for Mina and Larus. She was a little surprised when they announced their marriage merely an hour after Mina left her, but seeing Mina’s happy face reassured Sophia that her sister made the right decision. Larus’s love was there for all to see as well. If any marriage had a good chance at making it, theirs did. Even through her hate of the magical world, she could admit that much.

  The lycan’s were celebrating their king’s marriage with a great feast. A small group played music as others danced. Bonfires were lit outside, sending a soft glow through the door. Inside in the hall the light from the fireplace kept the room in shadows. Mead, ale, wine and a few drinks she’d never heard of were being generously poured. Everyone else was having a good time. Sophia tried to smile, tried to join in the celebration, but she couldn’t. With each passing second, she felt more and more alone.

  Watching as another lycan came up to where she sat alone at the head table, she scowled at him. Like all his kind, he had an abundance of muscles on his lean frame. His blond hair was tied back from his chiseled face, falling down over his back. He didn’t appear to mind her ill humor because he kept walking toward her. She already knew what he was going to ask before he opened his mouth. It was the same question nearly twenty before him had braved.

  “My lady,” the lycan guard bowed, “will you join me for a dance?”

  Sophia looked at him and flatly answered, “No.”

  His mouth opened again as if he would speak.

  “No.” She didn’t want to hear whatever flowery words he’d prepared to woo her.

  “Bu--”

  “No.” Sophia repeated. She could do this all night if she had to. In fact, she had been doing it all night. She didn’t want to dance. She didn’t want to go for a stroll. She didn’t want them to fight each other for her honor. She didn’t want anything to do with the male sex.

  “I,” the man tried. He was persistent, she’d give him that.

  “No.” Her tone didn’t change.

  “You heard the lady, Dolan.”

  Sophia frowned. She’d only talked to him one time, but she recognized Lord Malak’s voice without even looking. To her extreme horror, a shiver worked over her flesh. Treacherous body! How dare it try to feel pleasure at his nearness?

  The lycan bowed, shot her a lopsided grin and backed away. Sophia ignored him, not sorry to see him go. Turning slowly, she eyed Malak. She expected to feel repulsion, tried to feel it. Instead, a slow warmth invaded her at his devilishly charming smile. It was almost as if he couldn’t help the charismatic look.

  More black magic, she assured herself. First Cupid enchanted her to Larus and now Malak was doing something to make her like him. She’d felt some of these feelings before when she thought to be in love with Larus--her body pulling toward him, her heart racing just a little, her lower stomach sinfully aching to be touched.

  Sophia wasn’t a fool. She knew what that aching meant. No man had ever touched her there, but it didn’t mean she’d never touched herself. There was a lot to be learned by dressing up as a boy and sneaking around her father’s castle during festivals. She never told Mina, knowing her sister would put a stop to such activities.

  That was a long time ago. Sophia was no longer a child, but the lessons she’d learned and the things she saw were still embedded in her mind. She knew what Malak and all these man-beasts wanted when they eyed her like that. She’d seen the knights look at the maids the same exact way. They wanted to lift her skirts and have their way with her, maybe beget a bastard and leave her behind to deal with it. No, thank you.

  Sophia knew, had always known, that if she let a man cross that boundary it would be on her terms and for her pleasure. She wasn’t saving herself for marriage. She was saving herself for the right moment. Malak’s eyes seemed to glow. Moisture gathered between her thighs from looking at him and she got a little jolt of excitement. Despite what her insides seemed to want, Malak was not going to be that ‘right moment’.

  With Larus, and the vampire Devlin, these feelings had been the doing of a malicious spell. Why would the sensation she felt with Malak now be any different? Sophia wasn’t going to be caught off guard again. She’d be keeping a close eye on him.

  “Your eyes stare at me, my lady, flickering between pleasure and hatred,” Malak said, slipping into the chair next to her uninvited. He set a goblet down on the table and leaned toward her, his breath smelling of stout liquor. His hand skirted lightly onto her thigh. She tensed. “Tell me, which would you have me react to? The hatred or the pleasure?”

  The way he said ‘the pleasure’, his voice rumbling low in his throat, made her tremble. She jerked her leg away, slapping his hand back at the same time. “Unhand me, brute, or I will relieve you of your hand.”

  “Did you just threaten to cut my hand off?” Malak asked in surprise. He tipped his head back, laughing heartily. Sophia stared out over the hall, anything to keep from looking at his handsomely chiseled features.

  “You did say you were from Fenris? Named after the Norse wolf Fenrir, I suppose?” Sophia asked, somewhat changing the subject. “I’ve heard the stories. A wild beast that bit off the hand of the one god who fed him.”

  “Mm, tell me, in this tale are you the wild beast and I the god that should try to tame you?” Malak’s grin widened. He lifted his hand and offered it to her, palm up, as if daring her to try and relieve him of it. There was no fear in him, despite her heated words. Familiar calluses were on his hand. This man used a sword and often. His thigh brushed hers as he moved and she wondered if it was an accident. Seeing his expression, she somehow doubted it. “Is that an invitation, my lady?”

  “No, I was just thinking it fitting. You are after all primitive, beast-like, and clearly not very smart. Like a wolf stupid enough to bite the hand that gives it food. I wonder if you will run so well with a missing paw.” Sophia made a move to stand. Malak grabbed her thigh, squeezing enough to make her remain seated.

  Sophia’s heart leapt in her chest. What was it about this man that made her all jittery inside? She again tried to move her leg away, but he only squeezed harder. This wasn’t a caress, but a warning. She felt the strength in him. If he wanted, he could break her leg without expending but an ounce of energy.

  Malak’s pleasant expression stayed intact, but his eyes hardened, the grey-green depths swirling with hints of gold. He leaned closer to her. The smell of liquor from his breath fanned over her and she knew he could very well be drunk, though he held himself well. She felt the heat of his naked chest on
her arm and was soon after accosted by the earthy, musky smell of his body. Her skin tingled in response.

  “I may be a primitive beast, my lady, but you are rude and arrogant and,” he glanced her over, “definitely think too highly of yourself and your charms.”

  “Well,” Sophia returned, desperately searching for an insult and having a hard time thinking of anything other than the fact that his hand had slid a little higher on her upper thigh. Wait a minute. Did he just imply she wasn’t that pretty? “You’re… drunk.”

  “You need to be,” he returned easily. “Maybe then you’d realize this is a celebration and you should at least be pretending to have a good time, which actually brings me to my purpose in sitting by you. People are beginning to suspect that you don’t approve of your sister’s good fortune in marrying our king. You sit here, snarling at every man who asks you to dance as if they’re going to ravish you right here in the hall. In fact, if you had even taken the time to come down from pouting in your high tower, you would have seen your sister is spending most of her wedding night worrying about you.”

  Sophia gasped. Her eyes flew to Mina. Her sister stood by Larus, but was staring at her. Mina gave her a questioning look, lifting her hand from Larus’s arm as if she might step forward. Sophia instantly lifted her hand to stop her, forcing a smile. Mina stayed back, but she didn’t look convinced.

  Leaning over, she took Malak’s goblet from the table and took a sip. The stout liquor choked her on the way down and she coughed violently. Malak leaned into her, blocking her from most of the hall’s view.

  “Maybe you should try the wine instead,” he said, patting her back. “This drink is too strong for humans.”

  Sophia glared at him. She took the goblet back up and took another sip. It was a mistake. It burned worse than the first time and she ended up coughing again as Malak kept her from the hall’s view.

  When she could once more focus her watery eyes, she realized that in her coughing fit, she’d leaned over Malak’s lap. His thighs shifted and she saw the protrusion of his erection lifting up his tunic. She’d witnessed some of the knights in such a state, but they didn’t look quite that large. Maybe it was because she had too close of a view.

  “Not that I mind you down there, love,” Malak said, his voice teasing, “but this really isn’t the place for such things--at least not until much later and after many more cups have been poured.”

  Sophia gasped, instantly sitting up in her chair, leaning away from him. “Go away.”

  “I can’t,” Malak said.

  “Yes, you can. I’ll dance with the next lycan that asks me. You’re mission is done. I’ll pretend to have a good time.”

  “Great,” Malak said, standing.

  When he didn’t walk away, she glared at him. “Well? Go away. Run along now, man-beast.”

  “Dance with me,” he said. It sounded more like a command.

  “Ugh,” Sophia made a face of disgust. “I’ll dance with the next man. Not you.”

  Malak’s features clouded for a brief moment, before a grin spread over his face. Sophia’s stomach knotted. That mischievous, vengeful look couldn’t bode well for her.

  Malak cleared his throat, lifting his hands up to the crowd. Yelling over the music, he called, “One moment, please!”

  Sophia paled, glancing from him to the crowd. The music stopped and everyone was looking at them. She felt on display as the eyes of those in the hall searched her. Almost fearfully, she returned their stares. What was Malak going to do?

  “I would like to announce that Lady Sophia has given me the right of pursuit. Soon, she will be marked as my lover,” Malak announced. Good-natured grumbling ensued from the men. “Let any who dare to challenge me step forward.”

  Sophia instantly shot to her feet, intent on challenging his claim by running away. Malak artfully grabbed her before she could escape and pulled her to his chest. The warm contact stunned her to silence.

  “Think of your sister,” Malak whispered, his lips brushing close to her temple. Sophia’s eyes darted to Mina who was staring at her in confusion. Then, louder, Malak told the crowd, “The poor, sweet lady is scared of being bitten, but found she couldn’t quite resist me and has agreed to the pursuit.”

  His arrogant tone seemed to add, How could any woman resist me?

  The men laughed, cheering and howling. Sophia tried to push away from where he had her pulled to his muscular side.

  “Yo--” she started to scream.

  Malak seemed to anticipate her outrage and crushed his lips to hers to stop it. Liquid desire ran through her body from his touch. For a second, as she quieted, she felt him moving as if to pull back. She hesitantly parted her lips. His mouth changed course and was instantly back on hers, deepening the kiss. Sophia moaned softly as his bold tongue slipped between her lips. He caressed her mouth with his, plundering its depths.

  Slowly, the sound of howling and cheering invaded her numb brain and she struck his arm in horror. How dare he use her to boast to his friends! Malak pulled back, his grey-green eyes once more swirling with hints of gold. He was breathing hard and the unmistakable length of his arousal was pressed to her stomach.

  “Now,” he whispered, his voice a rough growl, “the men won’t bother you. Your sister won’t worry about your mood and--”

  “Why?” she broke in, studying his face. Her heart was beating really fast. Why did he have to kiss her like that? Why did he have to awaken her body? She didn’t want to feel anything right now. She wanted to be numb. She wanted her heart hard and her body insensitive.

  “Because my king asked me to speak to you and try to cheer you so that his queen may enjoy her feast,” he said. “Obviously, there is no pleasing you and this was the only way I could think of to make everyone happy. You should be pleased as well. No other will dare talk to your for fear of angering me. This also ends any chance I have of finding company tonight unless you by some miracle soften up. No doubt my obvious discomfort in not having someone to warm my bed will please you since you seem to revel in the discomfort of others. And, now you have the protection of two lords. King Larus and myself.”

  Sophia gasped. He was only kissing her as a favor to Larus? The words were like a splash of cold water over her heated flesh.

  Before she could pull away, he loosened his hold and said, “Don’t worry, I have every intention of escorting you to the portal.”

  “I’m going to speak to Larus,” Sophia quipped. “I’ll get another escort. Your behavior is unacceptable.”

  “I am your escort. The portal is on my land and I know the way. Larus won’t let just anyone have the location of it. Besides, I know the wizard that guards it and I’m the only one who can get you past the gate.” Malak moved to touch her face, brushing back her hair as if tenderly caressing her. His words were hard though, belying the affectionate show he put on for the crowd. “So, either behave yourself and let the pursuit stand for the time being and put up with my company, or I can bite you on your pretty little neck, mark you as my soon to be lover and you can spend the rest of your time in this realm feeling deeply connected to me--a connection that will only be broken after we consummate the bond and then later agree to the breaking of it.”

  “I’ll go with the first option,” Sophia said, weakly. Truthfully, she was a little scared of being bitten. But looking at Malak, she was more scared of feeling anymore drawn to him than she already was. “The pursuit thing you said.”

  “Good choice,” he assured, finally releasing her arm. His face had looked pleasant the whole time and remained so as he grinned and lifted his cup toward the king. Larus nodded once and whispered to his wife. Mina smiled, waving slightly at Sophia with an expression of hope on her face. The look tore at her. How could she deny what Malak had done when her sister seemed to get so much pleasure from it?

  “What do I have to do?” Sophia asked quietly, staring at her sister’s happy face as Larus kissed her cheek.

  “Simple,” he said. �
��Dance with me.”

  * * * *

  Dance with me.

  Malak should have known better. There was nothing simple about that request, nor the effort it took to get her to agree to a song. Two played before she finally forced herself to get up with him.

  He was on fire for the shrewish mortal. Watching her slender body turn and bow to him wasn’t helping to put the fire out. If anything, his arousal only stiffened all the more and he felt the beast emerging within.

  Sophia tried to act like she hated dancing, but he caught a glimpse of pleasure on her face. Perhaps she didn’t realize just how well lycan eyes could see in the dim light, that he could detect each subtle shift of her features, each shiver of her body. Or how his nose could pick up the scent of her desire, how he knew the instant she became aroused by his nearness.

  Or how the others could speak through the mind link and were now using it to tease him mercilessly. Malak blocked them out as his lids fell heavy over his eyes. He stared at Sophia’s breasts, watching them jiggle when she gave a little hop. This was torture, pure torture. Finally, the music stopped. Sophia dutifully curtsied to him and moved to walk away. Malak frowned, reaching for her arm.

  “Dance with me again,” Malak said.

  “No.”

  No? That was all he got? A flat, unemotional, bored ‘No’ just like she’d given every other lycan in the palace?

  “Come on,” he insisted, giving her his most charming smile and seductive tone. “You know you enjoyed it.”

  “Which part would that be, Lord Beast?” Sophia asked. “You staring at my chest? Or you stepping on my toe because you were too busy staring at my chest?”

  Malak frowned. Had he…? No. “I didn’t step on your toe.”

  “Ah, but you did have to think about it,” Sophia said. “It may be dark in here, but I could still see your eyes well enough.”

  “I was just thinking that you were too skinny,” Malak said. She was skinny, but it wasn’t as disgusting as his tone made is sound. Though she could stand to put on a few pounds, she was far from repulsive.