Page 24 of Blossom in Shadows

My queen is a seductress. If I wasn’t aware of it from the moment I laid eyes on her, it’s become crystal clear now. She was dancing in that cage just for me and I was powerless against her.

The feeling of being powerless, considering the man I am, is not one I’m used to. I was frozen in place as I watched her move even though Constantino was leaning against the bar next to me and wanting to chat about everything that had gone on at Sala while he was away with Lily. There wasn’t a single thing I could focus on other than the sway of my woman’s hips.

She moved as if I was up in the cage with her, bending her to my will even as she hypnotized me. I don’t know how she weaves the magic she does, but there is no way I’m going to question it. It was as if I could feel her hands on my body and her skin under my palms.

She drove me to distraction. Constantino slapped my back and leaned in to ensure I could hear him over the thump of the music, the same beat which seduced my woman into moving in such a way. “Go get your woman, you’re useless to me,” there was amusement in his voice.

I sent him a glare, but it was only for a moment because it was all I could spare. I had much better things to be looking at than the amused grin of my brother. He can think I was following his words, but I was always going to go and get my woman.

I stomped over and lowered her cage myself, knowing Constantino would make sure another dancer took her place. I knew it without looking at him or expressing my needs. Because he would do the same if the roles were reversed.

As I carry her out of Sala, I slap her ass the moment we’re outside and she shivers over my shoulder. I should have grabbed her belongings, at least her coat, but I know someone will take care of it for me and they will be waiting in our home before morning comes. Right now, my only priority is getting her home.

I stride to my car and deposit her in the front seat, my need riding me hard and making it difficult to think straight. The moment I close her door, harder than I was intending to, I run my fingers through my hair. How can this woman get under my skin the way she does?

I shake it off because it doesn’t matter, I’ve accepted it. I can’t breathe without it. I can’t even fucking think.

After I slide into the car, the roar of the engine matches the one in my heart, the one racing through my body with my seductress so damn close. She could bring an army to its knees, but there is only me here and there will only ever be me from now on.

I’ll gladly get on my knees for her. She deserves nothing less.

The drive home is quiet, only punctuated by the rush of the blood through my veins, the pounding of our hearts and the sound of her squirming in her seat now and again. To know she’s on edge, the same way I am, calms me, but it’s not enough; not nearly enough.

I need her to sate this hunger she’s brought on and nothing less will do. Does she know she’s awoken the beast which roars inside of me, the same beast that swallows down the darkness because she demands it? Was it her goal all along?

The moment we’re home, I stop quickly, causing her dark hair to fly around her face as she lets out a whoosh of air. I’m out of the car before the last flutter of her hair settles around her. She is ink in alcohol, spreading across my consciousness until the only thing I can see is the need, blinding and sultry, intoxicating and demanding.

She barely has the seatbelt unbuckled before I’m reaching in and yanking her out, the cold seeping into my consciousness and making my feet move faster as I throw her over my shoulder. She trembles, but it’s not in fear, it’s in the same primal need which causes each of my footfalls to be a heavy beat.

Forward. It’s the only direction I can move now. Because she demanded it with each sway of her hips.

“Elio,” she moans over my shoulder, her own need pouring from her in begging sound.

I don’t stop, kicking the front door closed behind us to reverberate around our home, echoing even as I take the stairs up and up and up. It feels like we’re ascending to the throne room where she rules. My heart is hammering in my chest and it’s hard to take a full breath because of the way her dancing moves through my consciousness.

When we get to my bedroom, I place her down in the middle of the room and shrug off my suit jacket, leaving it as a puddle on the floor at her feet. My first offering. It won’t be the last.

I stride over to the black leather chair in the corner, pulling my phone out as I do and quickly finding the same song playing as she wove her seduction around me to pump it through the room. I slide into the seat, able to breathe again because she’s locked in here with me. In my cage. Safe from the world and prying eyes even though we both know she only belongs to me.

They can never touch, but they want to. The knowledge makes me paranoid, and I gnash my teeth at the thought of another man trying to take her from me. They would know only the sweet surrender of death, never of her body.

Fucking never.

Zinnia turns toward me slowly, her pupils blown wide and her brown eyes dark with desire. Her hips start to move without me commanding them. Now I can enjoy it in a way I couldn’t before, because there were too many fucking eyes, too many people who could see her light.

In here there is only me. I only want her to see me, imagine me, feel me. I demand it and that is the way it will be.

“You’re going to dance for only me from now on,Reginetta,” my voice is hard, the edge of the threat slicing through her skin.

She flinches, but when she spins, there is understanding on her face. She doesn’t deny my words, she doesn’t fight me, but her jaw clenches. I know this won’t be the last of it and the thought of her fighting me on it makes my cock get even harder behind my zipper.

I’m unable to control my urges and I practically rip my slacks open, pulling my cock out as my eyes roam over the delicate curves of my queen. She turns her back to me, rotating her body with seductive torment. I squeeze right under the crown of my dick, wanting to stave off the pleasure watching her move brings me.

Her hand reaches back, unzipping her dress as she shimmies. She peels it from her body, exposing the length of her spine to me and her bare ass in her g-string. I can feel my lips kissing along the length of her, leaving my mark behind to prove just who she belongs to.

When she spins, her arms cover her tits for a moment before she raises them and rotates her hips. She steps from her heels with grace as she steps toward me, the music carrying her movements. Which came first, the dance or the beat? Watching her, I know it must have been the dance, the sound coming because a body could not contain all of the seduction within it by itself, there had to be another sense touched.

I swear her hands are roaming over me as her hips sway and she turns slowly in front of me, my eyes following every line of her body. When I reach for her, abandoning my cock and gripping the flimsy material at her hips, I rip it from her body. Watching as the fabric flutters to the ground, it captures the beat as time slows down around us.

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