To save her city, save her people, Alena Petrova Dubov, Imperial Princess of the Rodin must submit to the coronation ritual. All right, she has to admit, it isn’t exactly a tortured rite. After all, what other ruler ascends the throne by enjoying two men bred for her personal pleasure?
It’s 18+ so I’m putting it in after the jump. You have been warned…;-)
(c)2008 Kim Knox
Vadim padded towards her. Hairs prickled on the back of Alena’s neck, but she refused to take a step back. And she was having trouble placing her hands. Alena clasped them loosely together and still felt awkward. She hated how the man made her so stupidly nervous. “No. You’re here.” She cursed under her breath. Didn’t that sound like an invitation?
The muscle jumped in his jaw. “I’m a flight-captain in the Imperial Guard, Alena. Your safety is my responsibility.”
“I’m perfectly safe here, thank you, Vadim.”
His mouth thinned, and her fingers curled into a ball, nails digging into her palm. She wanted to stroke away the harsh lines. And that was completely inappropriate. Alena turned away and found the flight-captain following her. She ignored him, walking into the bedroom. Getting her bearings in the round room, she padded down the steps to the washing facility. And damn it, her spine ached from holding her back like a rod.
She stopped on the bottom step. “You don’t need to follow me into the shower, Flight-Captain.”
“My general impressed upon me to watch you at all times.” His gaze flicked around the domed room with the two showering alcoves. Black tiles gleamed in the small spots of light embedded in the curve of the dome. “You’re the only Dubov alive to power this place.”
Alena switched on the shower, and a spray of hot water filled the alcove. She focused her attention on adjusting the temperature, focused so she could ignore the hollow pain in her chest. “I don’t need a reminder that my whole family is dead, thank you, Vadim.”
His hand cupped her shoulder, squeezing gently. “I’m sorry … Alena.” He let out a slow sigh, but a wisp of wry amusement coloured it. “This ritual is affecting me more than I thought it would.”
A short laugh escaped her. “You have the hardest role.” She winced. “No pun intended. Sorry.”
His laughter echoed around the tiled room. With a final brief slide of his fingers down her arm, his hand dropped away. “Yes. Thank you.” He pointed to the alcove beside her. “May I?”
“Make it cold,” she said, stepping into the steaming water and letting it stream over her sweat-damp body. Alena lifted her face to the jets and sighed at the wash of cleanser-water breaking over her skin.
“Ice cold,” Vadim muttered before disappearing into the alcove.
Alena blinked away the water from her eyelashes. Water splashed over his body, and he twitched, gasping at what was obviously a freezing rush. He planted his hands on the black tiles and turned his face to the water. Her own shower was suddenly too hot … but she couldn’t look away from the sluice of water running over his tanned, muscular back, buttocks, and thighs. Tension coiled low in her pelvis, and her nipples lifted, hardened. Him and a bed. Alena let her gaze linger on the straining muscles in his arms. Hell, just him. Up against the wall. Hard. Fast.
She groaned and adjusted the temperature of the shower. Cool water splashed in a rush over her skin, and she bit back a yelp. She needed the distraction. Vadim was off-limits until the rise of the second moon. Her teeth chattered, and she ran a palm over the panel. The stream of water died. Shivering, she scuttled across the room to the cache of towels and robes stored in a discreet cabinet.
Towelled dry, she threw on a robe. Get out, get to her bed, hide. Daylight and the grind of work would take her mind off her need to screw the man in the shower.
Vadim reached past her and grabbed a towel. Damn the man was quiet. His closeness had her skin all too aware of him again. Her mother had never given her strength-giver a second look. General Mishenka still had the bitter turn to him, a narrowness to his eyes that forty years of being spurned by his empress had cut into his face. Her sister Antonina’s father had been her mother’s knowledge-giver, years after she ascended the throne.
Alena stared at the wet floor. She should run with her first plan, get the hell out of the room. But Vadim intended to stick with her … so it was easier to stand there and listen to him rub a towel over his cool, clean skin… She squeezed her eyes shut. This was crazy. A day. That’s all it was. Another day, and she could manacle the flight-captain to her bed, have his lithe body stretched out and at her mercy…
She groaned and thought about walking straight back into the cold shower. No, there’d never been any mention of such an awareness of the strength-giver, the need to push him back against the wall and run hands over his clean, muscular torso.
“Now we have to sleep together.”
Alena choked and coughed it out. “Sleep together?” Her voice was little more than a squeak. “I can’t…” She waved down his robe. “…with you…”
“Sleep, Alena,” he said but the sudden shine of levity in his eyes seemed … forced. His gaze dropped. He tugged at the belt and tightened the long black robe around his waist.
“General Mishenka explained the ritual in detail.”
And she’d forgotten it. Her prurient research had always involved the time in the little chamber … not what had to happen afterwards. It was why the empress had such a big bed, after all. “We all have to curl up together.”
A wince pulled at his cheek. “Yes.”
Before she realised it, her fingers had smoothed over his jaw. The contact jolted him. Her heart tightened. Was her touch offensive? “You’re making me feel unwanted, Vadim.”
He pulled in a breath, and he stepped back beyond her touch. The intensity to his silver eyes had her blood pounding. His hands curled into fists. “Don’t, Alena. I’m here to prove my strength and discipline. You touch me again? I’ll have you so hard up against that wall I’ll not give a fuck that this city will die.”
Her breath hitched, and heat melted through her body. She pulled her hands into tight fists, because she wanted nothing more than to reach out and stroke his cheek. That would be wrong. But she still found herself moving forward, stepping into his personal space. Alena felt outside of her own body, taunting him, but she had to. Her body twisted tight with a need she didn’t want to deny. “How hard?”
“Alena…” He almost growled her name and a flush stained his cheeks. “Stop.”
She lifted her hand, her fingers tracing over the smooth material of his robe. The hard muscle of his pectoral jumped at her touch. The power she had over him intoxicated her. “You didn’t answer my question, flight-captain.”
“This is not a part of the ritual.”
Her hand slid lower, the glide of her fingers melting into the sound of his harsh breathing. The heat of his skin bled through the robe…and still her hand skirted lower, lower.
Vadim grabbed her wrist, his fingers locking tight. “Don’t play this game.”
Her other hand pressed against his abdomen. Muscles tensed and he hissed as she teased a finger down. Through the material, her palm brushed against the solid length of his erection—
With a growl, Vadim yanked her hand away and barrelled her back. Alena hit the tiled wall with a thump that winded her. Pinning her arms above her head, he leaned in so close his breath brushed her cheek, his hard body crushing her to the wall. His cock strained against her belly. She sucked in a short breath, the ache to have him tearing through her.
“I had to hold you open so another man could fuck you. Have you any idea—” He sucked her earlobe in his mouth, his teeth nipping. Alena groaned and arched against him. “I’m still enough of my father’s son, enough of a Talar, to find that an…abomination.” His mouth hovered over hers, his hands flexing around her wrists. “I want to make you scream.”
This is unedited and my differ in the final version 🙂
And you can buy the book here