To my surprise, he picked it up quickly.
“Dancing is more like fighting than I’d expected,” he commented.
“Yes, but the goal isn’t to defeat your opponent. It is to seduce them and not step on their feet,” I replied playfully.
“Noted,” he replied with a half grin.
After a few more rotations around the room, I felt confident he understood the steps. If I were honest, I had been curious whether the General’s eyes would wander or if he would be too handsy, but to my surprise he treated the lesson as if he were dancing with his mother or sister.
“Do you want to try leading now?” I asked.
“Guardians, yes—before I completely lose my balls,” he replied while showing off his dimples, making me laugh.
“The key is confidence. Pretend I’m Calpurnia and you’re trying to convince her with this dance that you’re the best suitor for me— uh… for her,” I corrected.
“I am the best suitor for her!” he retorted sharply.
“I know you are, Cercies,” I said comfortingly. “But you need to tell her that with your body, not your words… and with dancing, not sex. Any male can fuck, but a mate can dance.”
He nodded in understanding.
“Just pretend I’m her and go over the same steps we just did,” I instructed.
He looked at me and it was almost like the color in his eyes changed to a more molten version of amber. He firmly—but not over aggressively—placed one hand at the small of my back pulling me in closer, and took my other hand in his.
“Confidence is key,” I reminded him.
He nodded and his mouth half turned in a smirk. He took the lead and guided me through the rotation one time, only missing the footwork once, so we did it again. This time he seemed more confident. I looked into the General’s eyes and studied his striking face, the scar on his eye that only elevated his appearance, and I thought to myself, damn… Cal was a lucky girl. There was a precision and quiet dominance in the General’s movements that could unravel even the most tightly wound female.
"Ahem, may I cut in?" a deep angry voice asked. The General and I flinched at the unexpected interruption as if we had been caught doing something we shouldn’t have. The High Lord of Flame stood a foot away, and I could feel the heat of his flames rolling off his shoulders. He was furious.
Cercies bowed slightly to Titus and took a few steps back. Titus pulled me in close, taking the position Cercies had just been in—but much closer.
“You are dismissed, General,” he barked, and Cercies exited the room.
The harp began to play a slow, somber song, and Titus took the lead with excellent form.
“I was just teaching him how to—” I began.
“I know what you were doing, but that doesn’t mean I liked it,” he interjected with disdain as he led me expertly through the motions.
I saw it now—he was jealous. I smiled because I liked it more than I should have.
“I thought you said you couldn’t dance,” I teased.
“I said I don’t dance, not that I couldn’t,” he replied.
His eye contact was intense. The intimacy, the connection—it electrified all of my senses at once. The confidence of every step, every dip, it was all so erotic. It was vastly different than dancing with Cercies. Dancing with the High Lord of Flame felt like foreplay.
“I heard what you said—any male can fuck, but only a mate can dance,” he said in his deep, seductive voice.
“Okay… and?” I asked.
He whipped me into an aggressive outward spin. When I spun back, he took my full body weight and dipped me low. Leaning over me, he whispered, “Now you know I am the best at both.”
He rumbled in a deep, breathy tone that stole the air from my lungs. I melted into him as his eyes bore into mine. He positioned me back on my feet.
“Try not to do anything that would make me want to kill my second in command in a jealous rage, or it’s going to be a long day for me. Have fun riding dragons. I’ll see you this evening.”
