Seated by the hearth, Helena is combing her fingers through her long, wet hair, letting the fire do the work of drying it. Her hair gleams as it slips through her hands, glossy and heavy, each lock catching the firelight with her every little movement.
She flicks a brief glance in my direction but doesn’t pause in her task. The flames rise and fall behind her, casting her first in shadow, then in waves of molten orange.
I cannot look away.
I’m not certain how long I stand there watching her, but eventually I find myself approaching her, as though finally snapping out of a trance. She doesn’t meet my eyes as I move to stand directly behind her, watching as she continues to dry her hair. A groan almost vibrates from my throat, and my pants are so tight that I’m certain my cock will bust through the leather at any moment.
Raw desire sweeps through me. I want to reach out and touch her hair. I want to gently brush her hands aside so I can finish drying her dark, gleaming tresses myself. I take a deep inhale and almost groan again. Frost flowers, eucalyptus, with a scent far sweeter and more feminine lurking beneath. Gods, everything about her is intoxicating. Her beauty, her scent, and the aura of innocence that emanates from her.
If she’s not glamouring me, then she’s a siren, I decide, an enchantingly beautiful creature from the deep southern seas, sent to lure me to certain death.
“Move your hands,” I say before I can stop myself.
A gasp catches in her throat, and she glances over her shoulder as her hands go still in her hair.
I step forward, standing behind her with only the sofa separating us, as I slowly push her hands down into her lap. She tenses and I think she might be holding her breath. As soon as I start combing my fingers through her hair, a shiver courses through her, and she finally releases a quick, shaky breath.
Though it goes against my very nature, I push the cold away from myself as much as possible, not wanting her hair to freeze at my touch. I think of summer breezes and crackling hearths. My hands become warm, partly from the fire but also due to my growing desire. It feels as though my entire body is suddenly aflame with need for my little human captive.
Slowly, her hair dries as I repeatedly drag my fingers through the long, thick locks. I take my time, in no rush to end the intimate act she’s allowing. Is she permitting my touch because she likes it? Or is she simply too afraid to push me away? The second option doesn’t sit well with me, but I don’t stop the gentle ministrations of running my fingers through her hair, carefully drying one lock at a time.
My hardening cock presses against the sofa that’s between us, and my desire eventually swells to the point that I cannot restrain a growl. The savage noise vibrates from my throat as I continue drying Helena’s hair.
She gasps and briefly tenses, but she doesn’t attempt to flee.
Even once her hair is fully dry, I don’t stop the meticulous caresses. I keep petting her as the firelight bathes us both in brilliant waves of orange. The warmth seeps into my bones, a not unpleasant sensation, as my cock keeps lurching in my pants.
Then I smell it.
The sweet, pungent aroma of her desire, the unmistakable slickness that is gathering between her thighs.
Another growl leaves me, and I find myself tightening my hold on her hair, but not hard enough to make her grimace. Though I am her master, her conqueror, I still cannot fathom causing her pain. I tilt her head back slightly, then brush her hair to the side, exposing the pale slope of her neck.
The urge to lean down and trail kisses along her flesh steals through me, hot and urgent, a surge of longing I struggle to tamp down.
Despite my need for her, and despite her obvious desire, the sweet, feminine pungency that fills my lungs with each deep breath, surely it would be nothing short of madness if I were to claim a female who held such a strong resemblance to Elssandra.
Past events would blur with the present, leaving me distracted… making me weak.
Rage starts to build in my chest. Not anger toward Helena, but fury directed at my brother. Perhaps he has dark motives for gifting me with the little human. Perhaps he wants me distracted and weak.
I immediately yank my hands from Helena’s hair and take two steps back. She leans forward, then turns to peer at me with wide eyes… eyes that are clouded with both fear and desire.
She sucks in another shaky breath, and she wraps her arms around herself, as though suddenly cold. It’s then that I realize I sent a blast of wind at her as I backed away, though thankfully, it wasn’t harsh enough to extinguish the fire.
She runs a hand through her fully dried hair, and a look of uncertainty flickers across her face. She gulps hard, drawing my gaze to her lovely pale throat, to the part of her I almost trailed kisses over.
My cock remains hard as ever, and I know she sees the bulge in my pants. Every so often, she glances down, and her eyes flare just a bit wider. A pretty flush covers her face, and I don’t think it’s from the heat of the fire.
I consider the plush robe she’s wearing. Will she remove it when she crawls into bed with me? If I pull her close, will she allow me to hold her all night? Fucking fires, even though I suspect my brother hopes she’ll be a distraction, I cannot smother the need to keep her close.
Does Alaric have his sights on the Winter Court throne? Hundreds of years ago, he expressed outrage when Rumarc, our brother, attempted to kill me and take the throne for himself. On the very day I put Rumarc’s severed head on display in the banquet hall, Alaric marched into the hall in full view of the entire court, fell to his knees, and swore his allegiance. And yet… I have always had my doubts about Alaric. I have always held him at a distance, never quite trusting him.
He’s younger than me by a few hundred years, and I have no sons or even daughters who might claim the throne upon my demise. Since Elssandra perished before we were able to have children, Alaric is next in line for the Winter Court throne.
Unless…
My breath freezes in my chest at the thought that enters my mind.
