Chapter 14
I mperial Palace Neapolis Capitola Six weeks later
I took a deep breath, steadying my nerves as I listened for Menelaus’ footsteps in the corridor outside.
The long weeks of healing rituals at the Temple of Limnis had cleansed my mind and spirit. The memories of my time in captivity remained like fading bruises—tender, but no longer incapacitating.
Tonight, I would reclaim the last piece of myself that Duke Beltrán had stolen. Like a shattered alabaster vase, I’d been repaired. The cracks in my soul were still there, and I would never be the same person I’d been before my ordeal. I only hoped the glue was strong enough to hold.
I ran my fingers through my freshly washed hair, still damp and smelling of jasmine. The palace seamstresses had crafted a nightgown of plum-colored silk so fine it felt like water against my skin.
I’d dismissed my new ladies-in-waiting, wanting privacy for what I planned.
My heart fluttered against my ribs like a captive bird.
What if I’m not truly healed?
What if, during our lovemaking, those terrible memories resurface to ambush me once more?
Consumed with anxiety, I’d asked Serafina those questions during our final session together.
She’d told me that even if I found myself lost in a terrible memory, I had the tools—and the power—to break the hold of fear and banish Beltrán’s ghost.
“Highness, just believe in yourself. You are strong enough.”
I pressed my palm against the cool glass of the window, focusing on the sensation, grounding myself in the present moment as Priestess Serafina had taught me.
The door opened with a soft click. I turned to see Menelaus enter, his massive frame filling the doorway. Even after all these weeks together, the sight of him stole my breath.
“Jonquil, my mate,” he said, his voice a velvet rumble that warmed me from within. His eyes traveled the length of my body, taking in the new nightgown with undisguised appreciation. “You look beautiful.”
I smiled, hoping he couldn’t see how my hands trembled. “Are the preparations for our journey tomorrow complete?”
The edges of my sitting room were crowded with trunks of clothing and boxes of books and medical supplies I’d purchased for the journey south. When I wasn’t at the temple or immured in meetings with Mother and the imperial council, I’d been studying Wind-Walker healing texts. Once I arrived at the royal aerie, I planned to open a clinic and resume practicing as a mage-healer in addition to serving as ambassador.
Menelaus crossed to the sideboard, where a silver decanter and a large platter of savory mushroom pastries awaited. “Yes. The other Wind-Walkers will meet us in the gardens at dawn.”
When the Wind-Walkers shed their excess mass and assumed human shape for their stay in the capital, the huge black stone statues that remained behind had been carted to the palace gardens.
Menelaus and the others would need those statues to transform back to their Dragon bodies.
He poured two goblets of rich red wine and offered one to me. “The journey to Kappadokia will take us three days. I’ve arranged comfortable accommodations along the way.”
I accepted the wine, letting my fingers brush against his. Even that small contact sent a thrill through me. “I can’t wait to leave the palace and start our new life together.”
“Nor can I. I only wish we could have our official mating ceremony right when we arrive at the royal aerie.”
“According to Mother, it’ll take the Chief of Protocol and the imperial council months to arrange and negotiate a ceremony that, and I quote, ‘symbolizes reconciliation, peace, and the promise of a unified future’,” I said dryly. “And that’s before they ask the Wind-Walkers for their input.”
Getting married had definitely been easier when I was just Mage-Healer Isabeau in Bernswick.
Baldwin and I had gone to the village mayor’s home to register our union in her official record book. Then we’d walked to the village’s small Temple of the Twelve Gods, exchanged our vows in front of witnesses, and received the nuptial blessings of the Divine Mother and of Vesta, goddess of home and hearth.
“I’ll leave the details to Lady Aeolia,” Menelaus said. “You’re already my mate. As long as you’re with me, I don’t care about ceremonies and witnesses and all that.”
The moment had come. I took a fortifying sip of wine, then set my goblet aside. I crossed the room and stood before him. As always, I felt the heat radiating from his body.
“Menelaus,” I began, my voice steadier than I’d expected. “I had my final session with Priestess Serafina today. She assures me I’m cured. The rituals have cleansed the last of Beltrán’s influence from my aura.”
Menelaus’ expression remained carefully neutral, though I could see hope kindling in his eyes. “That’s wonderful news.”
I took a deep breath and met his burning golden gaze. “I’m ready, my love. Tonight, I want to be with you. Completely.”
His breath caught. “Are you certain? There’s no rush—”
“I’ve waited twenty years to be in your bed again,” I said, surprising myself with the firmness in my voice. “I don’t want to wait any longer.”
He stood slowly, as if afraid a sudden movement might shatter the moment. His hands settled gently on my waist. “The last thing I want is to hurt—”
“You won’t,” I assured him, reaching up to cup his face. His smooth skin burned against my fingers. “The healers have helped me understand my triggers. I know what to avoid. And more importantly, I know what I want.”
“And what is that, my love?” His voice had dropped to a husky whisper.
“You,” I said simply. “ All of you. I want to reclaim what time and the Duke de Norhas stole from us.”
Menelaus’ eyes darkened with desire, but I could still see concern warring with his need. “At the first sign of discomfort, you will—”
“I’ll tell you. But I won’t break, Menelaus. I’m stronger than what Beltrán did to me.” I rose onto my tiptoes, bringing my lips a breath away from his. “I need this. I need to feel you against me, inside me. I need to know that part of me is still whole.”
A shudder passed through his powerful frame. “By the Unconquered Sun, Jonquil.”
“Let me show you,” I whispered, closing the distance between us.
Our lips met in a kiss that started tender but swiftly ignited into something more desperate, more primal. Two decades of separation, seven weeks of careful restraint—all of it combusted in an instant. His arms tightened around me, lifting me slightly off my feet as my fingers tangled in his fiery mane of hair, and our lips and tongues tangled with frantic need.
I clung to Menelaus, pulling him closer, his heat all around me as I pressed myself against his hard body. His desire for me was already straining against the fine linen of his trousers. The hard heat of it sent a sharp thrill through me. I needed him now, right now, without the least delay.
So many nights of restraint made me bold and impatient.
When we finally broke apart, both breathing hard, I saw the same wonder in his eyes that I felt in my heart.
No panic, no flashbacks—only desire, pure as spring water.
“Take me to bed,” I ordered, surprising myself with my boldness. “Make me yours again.”
Menelaus’ eyes blazed with Dragon-fire. “With pleasure, my mate.”
As he lifted me into his arms, I felt a surge of triumph. Tonight would be my ultimate victory over Duke Beltrán’s ghost. Tonight, I would reclaim not just my body, but my future.
“I’ve dreamed of this moment,” he murmured against my lips. “Dreamed of you beneath my hands again.”
“So have I,” I whispered, fingers already working at the laces of his tunic. “Let me show you.”
His large hands cupped my face, tilting it up toward his. The intensity in his gaze sent liquid heat pooling between my thighs. Slowly, reverently, he brushed his thumbs across my cheekbones.
“First,” I said, my voice hoarse with desire, “I want to see all of you.”
I resumed tugging at his laces.
He smiled and helped me, pulling the garment over his head to reveal his massive torso. My breath caught, as it always did at the magnificent sight.
My hands moved to the waistband of his trousers, unbuttoning them with fingers that trembled not from fear but anticipation. As the fabric loosened, I pushed it down his powerful thighs. He stepped out of his breeches, revealing a distinct lack of undergarments.
My eyes widened at the sight of his erection—impossibly large, jutting proudly from a nest of coarse red hair. I had forgotten the sheer scale of him, how his Dragon nature manifested in his human form. A flutter of anxiety mingled with my desire. Could I still accommodate him after so long?
As if reading my thoughts, Menelaus brushed a reassuring hand along my cheek. “We’ll go slowly. I won’t hurt you.”
“I know,” I said, leaning into his touch.
“Your turn.” He reached for the thin straps of my nightgown, sliding them down my shoulders with exquisite care. The silk whispered against my skin as it fell, pooling at my feet in a puddle of plum fabric.
His sharp intake of breath told me everything I needed to know.
“Beautiful,” he breathed, his gaze roaming over my body.
I flushed under his scrutiny. Over the past few weeks, I’d made my peace with my body and the marks left by time and childbearing—silver stretch marks across my hips, the softness around my middle, breasts that were fuller but less firm than in my youth.
With surprising gentleness for one so large, Menelaus swept me into his arms. I gasped at the sensation of being lifted as though I weighed nothing. My naked body pressed against his heated skin. He carried me to our bed and laid me down with care on the brocade coverlet.
“Do you remember,” he said, voice dropping to a husky rumble as he stretched out beside me, “how I used to worship these beautiful breasts of yours?”
My nipples tightened in anticipation at his words. “Touch them . Please .”
He smiled, a predatory flash of teeth that reminded me of his true nature. “First, I want to look at them.” His eyes dropped to my chest. “They’re ripe and perfect.” His finger hovered just above my skin, not quite touching. His deep voice roughened as he continued, “I’m going to trace circles around these pink tips until they’re hard and aching for my mouth.”
A whimper escaped me at his words. He hadn’t even touched me yet, and already I felt myself growing wet with need.
“Then,” he continued, his breath hot against my skin, “I’m going to taste them. Slowly. I’ll start with gentle licks, getting them nice and wet and hard. Then I’ll suck them into my mouth, one at a time, rolling them with my tongue until you’re writhing beneath me.”
“Menelaus,” I gasped, arching toward him involuntarily.
“And when you’re desperate for more,” he growled, “I’ll graze them with my teeth—just enough to make you feel that edge between pleasure and pain.”
His finger finally touched me, tracing the contour of my breast exactly as promised. I shivered at the sensation, my body already responding to the combination of his touch and his words.
“Please,” I whispered. “Don’t make me wait.”
He lowered his head to my breast, his hot breath teasing my nipple for one agonizing moment before his mouth closed around it. The wet heat of his rasping tongue sent a jolt of pleasure straight to my core. He suckled gently at first, then with increasing pressure, drawing a moan from deep within me.
His hand caressed my other breast, thumb circling the nipple in time with the ministrations of his mouth. I tangled my fingers in his coarse red mane, holding his head against me as he lavished attention on the neglected breast.
True to his word, he grazed the sensitive peak with his teeth, the slight edge of pain heightening my pleasure until I was gasping beneath him. My hips rose of their own accord, seeking friction against the throbbing ache between my thighs.
“So responsive,” he murmured against my skin. “I’ve missed the sounds you make when you’re aroused, my mate.”
His mouth traveled lower, leaving a trail of kisses across my ribcage and down to my navel. His large hands spread my thighs with gentle insistence, exposing me completely to his heated gaze.
“Now,” he said, settling between my legs, “I’m going to taste the sweetest part of you.” His breath stirred the curls at the apex of my thighs. “I’m going to lick your beautiful cunt until you’re dripping with pleasure.”
I moaned at his crude words, feeling myself grow wetter in response.
“I’ll start with slow strokes,” he continued, his voice a sensual weapon that built my arousal to almost unbearable heights. “From your entrance to this perfect little bud.” He blew gently across my exposed pearl, making me jerk with sensation. “Then I’ll lick you, circling it with my tongue, flicking it, sucking it into my mouth.”
My hands clutched at the bedsheets, my body trembling with anticipation.
“And when you’re close to the edge,” he promised, “I’ll push my tongue deep inside you, fucking you with it, tasting you from the inside out while my thumb works your pearl. I’m going to make you climax again and again until you’re begging me to stop.”
“Gods, Menelaus,” I panted, beyond shame or restraint. “Please, I need—”
His mouth descended on me without warning. The first broad stroke of his tongue drew a cry from my lips. He groaned against me, the vibration adding another layer to the overwhelming pleasure.
“You taste even better than I remembered,” he said, briefly lifting his head. “Like honey and salt and woman.”
He returned to his task with a Dragon’s single-mindedness, lapping at my folds with long, deliberate strokes that made my hips buck against his face. When he focused on my pearl, circling it with the tip of his tongue before sucking it gently between his lips, I nearly came undone.
My hands found his head, fingers tangling in his hair, as I held him against me. The sight of his powerful body between my thighs, his broad shoulders keeping me spread wide open for his pleasure, was almost as arousing as his skilled mouth.
“Yes,” I gasped. “There, just like that—don’t stop—”
He growled his approval, the sound reverberating through my most sensitive flesh. His pace increased, tongue flicking rapidly against my swollen bud while one thick finger teased at my entrance.
The climax took me by surprise, crashing over me with stunning intensity. I cried out his name as waves of pleasure radiated outward from my core, my inner walls pulsing with release.
Triumph surged through me alongside the pleasure—my body was again mine to command, my pleasure again mine to claim.
Far from being deterred by my climax, Menelaus seemed encouraged. He maintained his attention on my sensitive flesh, easing the pressure slightly, but never stopping. Before I could fully come down from the first peak, he slid a finger inside me, curling it upward to stroke against that secret spot that made me see stars.
“Again,” he demanded against my flesh. “Give me another, my love.”
His tongue returned to my pearl, circling it relentlessly while his finger worked inside me. A second finger joined the first, stretching me deliciously, preparing me for what was to come. The dual stimulation quickly rebuilt my arousal, sending me spiraling toward another peak.
This time when I came, it was with a keening wail that echoed off the bedchamber walls. My back arched off the bed, thighs clamping around his head as pleasure more intense than the first washed through me.
Tears leaked from the corners of my eyes—not from pain or fear, but from the sheer overwhelming relief of reclaiming this part of me.
Menelaus lifted his head, his mouth and chin glistening with evidence of my pleasure. His golden eyes, when they met mine, blazed with satisfaction and barely restrained need.
“Beautiful,” he said, pressing a kiss to my inner thigh. “You’re so beautiful when you come apart for me.”
I lay trembling in the aftermath of pleasure, triumph surging through me like wildfire. No panic had overtaken me, no ghostly hands had torn the breath from my lungs.
The shadow of Beltrán de Norhas, which had haunted every intimate moment since my escape, had finally been banished. I felt tears of relief slide down my temples into my hair.
I was free.
“You’re crying,” Menelaus said, his voice laced with concern as he moved up my body to brush the tears away. “Did I hurt you? Did I trigger—”
“No,” I interrupted, smiling through my tears. “These are happy tears. I felt nothing but pleasure.” I reached up to trace the strong line of his jaw, marveling at the miracle of being able to touch him so freely, without fear. “I’m finally whole again.”
His smile was radiant, transforming his fierce features into something achingly beautiful. “I would have waited forever for you if needed.”
“I know.” I pushed myself up on my elbows, feeling a renewed surge of desire as my gaze traveled down his magnificent body. His erection hadn’t flagged in the slightest while he’d attended to my pleasure. If anything, it looked even larger and more imposing than before, flushed dark with need. The sight awakened a powerful hunger within me.
“I want more,” I said, my voice husky with renewed desire. “I want all of you.”
His nostrils flared, catching the scent of my arousal. “How do you want me?”
I considered for a moment. Serafina had warned me that certain positions—particularly those where I felt pinned or restrained—might trigger flashbacks to my captivity.
“Let me ride you,” I said, the boldness of my words sending a thrill through me. “Let me take you and ravish you, my love.”
A slow smile transformed into the predatory grin of the Dragon he truly was. “With pleasure, my mate.”
He rolled onto his back in one fluid motion, his massive body stretching across the bed like Ishkur the Stormbringer. The firelight played across his dark skin, highlighting the scars that mapped his battles and the powerful muscles beneath. His erection stood proud against his abdomen, thick and intimidating.
I raised myself to my knees, glorying in my power. This was my choice, my desire. I was in control of our pleasure now and determined to make him see stars.
The head of his cock brushed against my entrance, hot and insistent as I straddled his hips, positioning myself above him. Menelaus’ hands settled on my waist, supporting but not directing.
“Take what you need,” he encouraged, his voice strained with the effort of remaining still. “However you want it.”
I reached between us to grasp his length, guiding him to my entrance. The first touch of his tip against my slick heat drew gasps from us both. I was wet from his previous attentions, but his size would still require patience and care.
His broad head stretched me immediately as I lowered myself onto him, a delicious burn that bordered on discomfort. I paused, breathing deeply, allowing my body to adjust.
“You feel incredible, my mate,” Menelaus groaned, his fingers tightening on my hips. “So tight, so hot.”
His words encouraged me. I sank down another inch, feeling him stretch me further. The initial discomfort gave way to pleasure as my body remembered him, welcomed him. I continued my slow descent, taking him deeper with each careful movement.
“Gods, yes,” I breathed, head falling back as he filled me. The sensation was overwhelming—stretched to my limit, fuller than I’d been in twenty years.
When I finally settled fully onto him, sheathing him to the hilt, I paused to catch my breath. He was deep inside me, touching places I’d forgotten existed.
“Jonquil,” he whispered, his voice reverent. His hands slid up from my hips to cup my breasts, thumbs brushing over my sensitive nipples. “My queen. My mate.”
I placed my hands on his broad chest, using it for balance as I lifted myself halfway off him, then sank back down, testing the sensation. Pleasure shot through me like lightning. I did it again, establishing a slow rhythm that had us both panting.
His groans of pleasure fueled my confidence. I increased my pace, finding angles that sent sparks of pleasure cascading through my body. Each time I sank down onto him, he met me with a gentle upward thrust, enhancing my pleasure.
The feeling of power was intoxicating. I set the pace, controlled the depth, decided how much pleasure to give and take. After Beltrán’s usurpation of my free will, this reclamation of my body and desire was nothing short of revolutionary.
Sweat beaded on my skin as I worked myself on his length. My thigh muscles burned with the effort, but I couldn’t stop. Each stroke brought me closer to another peak.
Menelaus’ hands roamed my body, caressing my breasts, my waist, my thighs. One hand slipped between us, his thumb finding my pearl with unerring accuracy. The added stimulation made me cry out, my rhythm faltering momentarily.
“That’s it,” he encouraged, circling the sensitive bud in time with my movements. “Take your pleasure. Show me how much you want this.”
I rode him harder, driven by his words and touch. The sight of him beneath me—his face contorted with pleasure I was giving him—filled me with fierce joy.
“I love you,” I gasped, the words torn from the deepest part of me.
His eyes blazed with emotion. “And I love you. My heart, my soul, my only mate.”
The pleasure was building again, coiling tight at my core. Menelaus sensed it, his thumb moving faster against my sensitive flesh, his thrusts becoming more deliberate.
“Let go,” he urged. “Come for me now, Jonquil. Let me feel you.”
This new climax claimed me with stunning intensity, radiating outward from where we were joined. I cried out his name, my inner walls clenching rhythmically around his thick length.
The sensation wrung a guttural groan from Menelaus, his hands gripping my hips as he fought to maintain control. His hips jerked upwards, burying himself to the hilt, and with another deep groan, he shuddered in release.
As the waves of our mutual pleasure receded, I collapsed onto his chest, panting against his skin. His arms wrapped around me, holding me close while his heartbeat thundered beneath my ear.
“You’re still hard,” I murmured.
He chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. “Has it been so long that you forgot that Wind-Walkers aren’t like puny human men?”
I giggled.
“We have all night, my love. And I intend to explore every way I can please you.”
I lifted my head to meet his gaze, overcome with love for this man who had waited so long and so patiently for me.
“Then let’s continue,” I said, feeling younger and more alive than I had in years. “I want to try everything. I want to make up for every moment we lost.”
His smile was both tender and wicked. “As my mate commands.”