“She is calm.” Reginald gave a small nod. “You may touch her.”
Dusk gave him a nod back, though a small prickly moment happened between him and the Siren. Reginald wasn’t about to apologize for what he’d demanded of Layla these past weeks, and there was no love lost between the Head Courtier and the Head Concierge. But as they watched each other, Layla realized something had changed between them this evening. Dusk was finally paying attention to the control Reginald helped provide Layla over her passions – and for the first time, Layla could feel Dusk was grateful about that.
“How are you?” Dusk’s soft words drifted up to the high vaults as his fingers stroked Layla’s. He remained kneeling though she could feel a slow vibration in his touch. Whether it was meant to keep her calm or arouse her, she didn’t know, as it did a bit of both. But it was a sedate arousal, and as Dusk stroked her, she saw him share a glance with the Head Courtier again.
“Better.” Layla sighed as she gripped Dusk’s fingers gently, grateful for his touch. “But I’m still fucking furious. I can’t believe things got so out of hand tonight. I feel like I just need to fight all night. Maybe all day tomorrow, too.”
With a deep inhalation, Reginald moved towards the bench. Glancing at Dusk, he nodded his chin at Layla. “She needs the touch of skin tonight. You have my permission to be with her, Head Concierge. Be gentle, please. Return her to my rooms before dawn.”
With a sudden shock, Layla realized what Reginald was saying. But before she could say anything, he turned away, a glance like sadness passing between himself and Rikyava. Maybe it was chagrin at what his horrible brother had pushed Layla to tonight and how it had affected Adrian and their Hotel; maybe it was wretchedness at his role in provoking Rikyava’s clan to war. But as quickly as that look came it was gone, and Reginald with it – striding back to the door and turning the corner.
“Aaaaand,” Rikyava rose, “I think that’s my cue, too. Cheers, kiddos. Keep it kosher.”
With a wink, the Head Guardswoman departed also, closing the thick crystal door behind her with a soft whoosh of air. Layla and Dusk were quite suddenly alone in the hall, the vaulted space moving with soft currents of air and the burble of the waterfall.
“Did he just…?” Layla blinked at Reginald’s departure, then looked to Dusk. “Did Reginald just give his blessing for us to get it on tonight?”
“Once a Head Courtier, always a Head Courtier.” Dusk lifted an eyebrow with a wry smile. “It’s a formality, Layla, for a Partner to give their blessing to a Courtesan-in-training to have an Assignation.”
“Which is what he’s insinuating, that you and I can have some alone time tonight.” Layla scowled, anger seething through her. “Like you’ve paid for me?”
“Never.” Dusk chuckled, then slid up to the bench beside her. “You are too priceless to pay for. Come here.”
Pulling off his bowtie and unbuttoning his tux shirt, Dusk angled their bodies so Layla could lean back against him. She found herself relieved by the warmth of his body and the silken touch of his chest on her back. With a sigh, Dusk wrapped his arms around her and Layla felt quietude ease through her. Dusk was controlling his passion now; mightily. And Layla still had Reginald’s oceanic sensations moving deep through her, controlling hers.
Dusk kissed her shoulder and Layla found her head tipping back as she sank into it. His fingers stroked the front of her neck; soothing. It was gentle even in its eroticism and Layla sighed, abandoning herself to it. She’d wanted this so badly, all month. Needed it. Her mind drifted; her body drifted in a smooth, sedate space as Dusk touched her. Time faded, replaced only by breath and the steady caress of his fingers. Their bodies pressed close, Layla could feel Dusk’s deep heat rising now; not a flashing, fierce heat like Adrian, but like the last heat of day lingering in a slab of stone – a sensation one could revel in if one remained very still.
“Come on.” Dusk’s voice was gentle by Layla’s ear. “Let’s go somewhere we can relax.”
“Where?”
“Just trust me.” Dusk gave her a look and Layla acquiesced. She could use some relaxation just about now. Could she ever.
CHAPTER 6 – DUSK
Rising, Dusk guided Layla up from the rose quartz bench with him, then turned and led them through the Guardhall and back up the stairs, until they pushed out a set of doors into the deep evening gardens once more. The gardens were somber and sensual tonight, with swirling glow-globes lit upon pedestals and magicked white firefly-lights glimmering through every bare topiary in the midnight hour. Being out in the chill again with the stars winking high above was soothing, and Layla drew deep breaths – trying not to think about the Owners party, or Adrian.
Or Reginald.
Glancing over, Dusk kept his silence as they walked. No sighs came from the clusters of illuminated topiaries this late in the season, the December air too brisk for outdoor lovemaking. It made the gardens seem more expansive than usual, and Layla could feel Dusk thrumming a low vibration through their intertwined fingers as they walked, both heightening and soothing that sensation of expansiveness. The lights in the topiaries mimicked the stars far above, and the stars reflected in the pools all around, until Layla felt like she walked among the midnight sky. She shivered, but it was a good thing, feeling crisp and clear for the first time all night as her breath puffed in the frigid air. Looking over, Dusk saw her shiver and removed his white tux jacket, tucking it around her bare shoulders.
His attention was everything Layla needed tonight. Dusk was being a gentleman, using his magics to soothe her rather than fluster her or give in to his own sexuality. Deep inside, Layla’s Dragon stretched like a cat being petted, its big golden eyes slipping half-closed in contentment as they walked. After a few minutes, they rounded a hedge and came upon a small bath-house. Made of vaulted crystal, the modest dome was set with wrought-iron so delicate it looked like a bird’s nest. Stepping up to the enclosure, no larger than Layla’s apartment and surrounded by tall hedges, Dusk opened a wrought-iron door and beckoned Layla in.
She entered, hearing the sound of a waterfall inside. There were numerous outbuildings on the grounds of the Hotel and this was one she’d never been in before, not even on her tour. A thin mist curled through the air inside the bath-house, obscuring the view, but a rose quartz floor glowed with a pool of milky water set into the ground, a cascading waterfall emptying from the wall into the pool. Vines trailed up every wall and high into the dome, enormous white trumpet-blossoms opening to the night.
It was an intoxicating space, and as Dusk closed the door and set an amethyst bar to lock it, Layla realized she could no longer feel a whirling dervish of eros cascading through her. It stunned her, realizing she’d been feeling so much from other people at the Hotel, like a low-frequency vibration inside her bones that irritated her over and over. She’d not even known it was there until it was gone, even more thoroughly than from the magical insulation of the fight-hall. Layla stood in the sudden silence, relieved, only the fall of water vibrating through her as it cascaded into the pool.
“Wow. That’s something.” She breathed to the curling mist.
“Quiet in here, isn’t it?” Dusk gave her a knowing look as he stepped to a chaise nearby.
“You can say that again, Mister Garrison.” Layla randomly quoted South Park, eliciting a soft laugh from Dusk, and a grin. “How did you find this place?”
“Trial and error.” Dusk gave her a wry smile as he stepped out of his black oxfords. “It’s the one place I truly feel relaxed here at the Hotel. Even the fight-halls and my apartment don’t ground out the vibrations of other people’s emotions nearly as well as this place, though I’ve done my best with my apartment. This is my sanctuary, free of all outside vibrations. Here, there exists only the beauty of silence – and you, right now, with me. Shall we?”
Giving her a relaxed smile, Dusk began to strip off his bowtie, laying it upon a chaise near the door next to a wrought-iron stand of white towels and robes. Glancing to her, he began unbuttoning his shirt. Layla tried to not stare as he stripped his shirt away, but failed. Dusk was handsome in the extreme, lean and cut with defined muscles that one didn’t really see in his immaculately slim suits. With incredible shoulders and strong legs like a World Cup soccer player, his torso was a dusky color through his tanned skin, a midnight dark oilslick hue on his outer arms, shoulders, and down his sides. Over his chest and washboard abs, the color faded to the same lovely bluish hue of his lips, rippling with a sheen as he turned and set his shirt down.
Seeing Dusk’s sleek musculature was astounding. It was only the second time Layla had seen him naked, and as he began to undo his pants, she watched how his serrated ridges of Dragon-scale flowed down the back of his neck. Unable to tear her gaze away, she followed those scintillating ridges – edged in gold since her Bind – as they spread out over his shoulder-blades and down his back in a sexy v-shape, dipping below the band of his slacks.
