His Hidden Desire (18+)

Chapter 15

On a rocky isle in the center of an expansive lake, stood an odd, rambling fortress that had weathered the ravages of five hundred winters, with walls that had withstood every army that had tried their strength.

It was also the current site of King Nikolaj's court, and as Cenric's retinue crossed the long, stone bridge, Danaë shivered.

With the ring of horse hooves in her ears, dread filled her like rotten fruit, queasy and sick - a vague, unfocused premonition of ill tidings.

Ahead, the massive portcullis that barred the entrance to the castle began to rise slowly, noisily, revealing the assembly waiting just beyond.

At the front of the procession, Godric led the way, flanked by guards. He rode tall, clad in fine, kingly raiment.

Next to Danaë, the actual king wore humbler clothes.

Cenric's voice came hushed and low, intended for her ears only, "Remind me: for any further diplomatic missions, we're inviting them to us."

Exhaustion hung from every syllable, and he visibly fought to maintain his composure.

Amused, Danaë leaned over, teasing, "One might think that you were grumbling, my Lord"

Cenric turned to her, "I am grumbling, my Lady."

She smirked, "I daresay, that's not very regal of you, my Lord."

"Not regal?" He snorted, "'Not regal,' would be complaining about the cramp in my ass."

Biting back a laugh, Danaë hid her mouth behind her hand. In front of them, the party slowed, and Godric dismounted, handing his reins to an attendant.

Before him, a squad of armed men parted to reveal a solidly built man wearing sensible attire and a no-nonsense expression.

King Nikolaj...

Danaë viewed the man for the first time, having only ever seen his father in the Imperial City - however, for her, recognition was instant, owing to a strong, familial resemblance.

Powerfully built, he strode toward Godric, barrel chest out, almost swaggering with his gait.

Stopping short of Godric's magnificent steed, he looked up - and paused - a curious expression taking over his face. Instead of greeting Godric, Nikolaj glanced over the party, searching. As his gaze passed to Cenric, his eyes lit up.

Sidestepping Godric, Nikolaj walked forward until he stood before Cenric.

With a voice that rivaled the rumbling of a thunderstorm, he asked, "Is the ruse really necessary?"

Cenric grinned, "In times like these, there's no such thing as an overabundance of caution."

His comment was lighthearted, but still Nikolaj's eyes grew weary, "I wish you were wrong, friend."

Behind him, an attendant came and held Cenric's horse steady, allowing him to dismount.

Landing on the worn stone of the bridge, Cenric straightened before clapping a hand on Nikolaj's shoulder, "It is good to see you again."

The other man agreed, "It has been too long, Cenric."

Clasping each other, they embraced in a warm hug. Around them, the rest of the assembly began to dismount.

As Osmund, the shorter of her two personal guards, came back to help Danaë off of her horse, she landed, shaking out her clothes, only to find she was being watched.

Next to Cenric, Nikolaj's eyes locked onto Danaë, gaze sharpening with a sudden focus.

What-

Her heart hammered in her chest, feeling inexplicably exposed. and she bowed her head, trying her best to hide from his cold, calculating stare.

The scent of lake water permeated the thick, stone walls, and Danaë found that her chamber held the peculiar, damp aroma of algae and fish.

Or rather, the chamber that she shared with Cenric...

Smaller than his personal apartments, the rooms they would be staying in were nevertheless richly appointed, with bed linens of the finest silk and large, stained-glass windows that painted the walls in vibrant hues.

If only they were alone.

Danaë tried to seem nonchalant as the servants scurried around her, bringing in chests and unpacking their personal effects. After declining Nikolaj's offer for a tour of the grounds, they'd been brought up to their chambers only to find that the maids were not yet finished with their work.

Cenric, if anything, seemed amused, sitting next to her in the matching leather seat, sipping at a goblet of wine.

"You look ill at ease, Princess."

Swallowing air, she sent him a level stare, "Why do you say that, my Lord?"

He shifted closer, grinning evilly, to whisper in her ear, "Because you're flushed, your breathing is unsteady, and I'm not even touching you."

Danaë met his mischievous gaze, "Do you enjoy my discomfort, my Lord?"

Cenric's eyes were molten midnight, "Your discomfort, my Lady, goes hand in hand with your ecstasy, and I enjoy both in equal measure."

An anticipatory shiver crossed her skin, and her mind went back to the night before, when he'd had her on all fours in front of the hearth, sweat rolling down their bodies as the low flames flickered in the night.

He'd made her beg.

Setting a brutal, punishing rhythm, he'd pounded into her, forcing her to the brink of climax - and keeping her there.

Relief hadn't come until she'd completely debased herself, until her incoherent pleading was accompanied by actual tears.

And she loved it.

Glancing away, she questioned her sanity for the thousandth time.

What is wrong with me?

These urges, these sick desires, had been unthinkable in her former life.

She was the emperor's heir, the last scion of a divine lineage, the Chosen - she had been bred to rule, to reign from on high-

-and I let Cenric fuck me like a dog.

A bitch in heat - that was what she had been reduced to, a base animal whose only purpose was serving her master.

Her breath caught, and she looked back, meeting Cenric's stare.

My master...

Sweeping her gaze across his form, she imagined the powerful muscles hidden beneath his clothes, remembering the way they shifted with his movements, lithe and predatory.

And she felt the unmistakable stirrings of lust within her.

Her attention fell to the plump softness of his lips, feeling their phantom pressure against her teeth, "My discomfort is owed to several days on the road and the fact that I have an audience," she paused, eyeing the servants, "when all I want right now is to rest. If," she let her mouth curve into a less than innocent smile, "you would like to enjoy my discomfort, I would ask that you wait until tonight."

Cenric raised a brow, "Do you want me to dismiss them?"

She sighed, "I want them to hurry."

"Your wish is my command, Princess." Leaning closer, he pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead. Then, lowering his lips, he whispered, "and tonight my wishes will be your commands."

With a smile, he stepped away to speak in hushed tones with the chamberlain, and within moments, unpacking ceased, and the last few trunks were brought in and set aside as the servants were ushered toward the outer rooms, leaving the bedchamber empty.

Danaë watched this with flushed cheeks, taking Cenric's hand as the door shut, letting him lead her to bed.