Page 30 of Red Queen

I want to tumble to my knees offer him my wrists to tie. I want him to offer me his cock so I can suck it under his command.

But this isn’t who I am—I’m no one’s to dominate.

With a burst of strength, I shove him away, breaking the kiss. He stumbles back, surprise flickering across his face. I seize the opportunity and bend to retrieve my sword, its blade an arctic weight in my hand.

I lift it high so the point is at his throat. Dead center.

“Is that all, General?” I say.

For a moment he doesn’t move, doesn’t speak. If I were stupid, I’d say I had him, but he’s not a feared and legendary general for nothing. He earned his standing. Every scar and loss and victory.

Alexandru moves so fast it’s a blur of black and he brings his wrist up, buckles and straps facing me and he knocks the sword away as he spins out of its reach.

The corner of his mouth quirks up as he unsheathes his own sword. “En garde, my fallen Queen.”

We resume our sparring positions, but this time steel sings against steel, a symphony of aggression and artistry. Alexandru’s gaze never leaves mine, his every move a provocation.

He isn’t holding back, or maybe he is. But compared to before? He’s breathtaking and deadly and he knows how to play me, to lead me where he wants. To pin me how he wants.

And each time is like a mock, and my anger and frustrations flutter up once more. Worse this time, because I wanted more of him, his mouth, his cock, all of the things I shoved away.

“Focus, Eleanna. Your emotions are your downfall,” he says.

“Or perhaps they’re my weapon!” I feint left before striking right, my blade swift and precise.

It meets its mark, resting against the vulnerable column of his throat.

“Checkmate,” I whisper triumphantly, allowing the edge to graze his skin. A bead of reddish-brown blooms like the first blush of dawn.

“Careful, love. Bloodlust becomes you,” Alexandru murmurs, the vibration of his voice sending ripples through the air.

He doesn’t push me away; instead, he holds my gaze, testing, tempting.

I lean in closer, lowering my weapon, and lick the drop of blood from his neck. His moan is low and guttural, a sound that resonates deep within me. The taste of him on my tongue—a potent mixture of power and vulnerability—is intoxicating, clouding my judgment with lust and an unsettling desire for more than just his blood.

“Eleanna...”

My name’s like a spell, binding us in this dangerous game we play. And for a heartbeat, I forget the war, the throne, the need for dominance. All that exists is the man before me and that undeniable sexual chemistry which threatens to consume us both.

I allow my sword to fall into the snow, my breaths shallow as I meet his gaze. The silver in his eyes gleam like moonlight on a still lake.

“Shall we retire to my chambers?” he asks softly, barely audible against the winter wind that howls around us.

If I was smart, I’d say no, tell him we must renegotiate the deal. But that’s a foolish thing to do. If I renegotiate now, I run the risk of him turning his back on me and letting me face Catarina on my own. I risk losing…this.

Without breaking eye contact, I nod slowly, and the weight of my decision settles between us like a leaden blanket. We are no longer general and queen, enemies bound by duty and destiny. Are we ever when we enter the bedchamber? But it feels different.

Here, in the solitude of the courtyard, we’re drawn in partnership by a hunger that transcends time and reason.

We cross to the door, fingers brushing, sending sparks flying through the frosty air. Every touch, every glance builds my burning need.

Once inside his bedchamber, Alexandru closes the door with a soft thud, enclosing us in a world of our own making.

He leans against it, gaze roaming over me and I stand, lost. “What are you planning to do to me?”

“Nothing.”

Panic wells, not triumph. I want…I need… I swallow. “At all?”

---