Chapter 6 Balthazar #2
I stood for a moment, listening.
Feeling.
The wind carried with it something familiar. Something that called to me.
Above the tree line, the soft glow of candlelight flickered in an upstairs window of Alina’s estate. I knew without question—it was her room—the same room she had fled to with tear-streaked cheeks and trembling limbs. The room where she waited was haunted by grief and tethered to fate.
Desire curled low in my abdomen.
With a surge of power, I vanished, leaving only a breath of shadow in the clearing.
When I reappeared, I was behind her.
In her boudoir.
She sat at her vanity, cloaked in a robe of pale silk that shimmered like moonlight.
The fabric was embroidered with soft florals that traced the curve of her breasts and the slope of her thighs.
Her long, coppery hair fell in loose waves over her shoulders, and in her hand, she held a bone-handled brush, moving it through the strands as she gazed into the mirror.
She didn’t flinch. Didn’t startle. As if she’d felt me arrive.
As if she’d been expecting me all along.
Most people recoiled at the sight of me, chilled by me, undone by the power I carried in my wake. But not Alina.
She met my gaze in the mirror. Unafraid.
I stepped forward.
In one swift motion, I seized her hips and spun her on the stool to face me. The brush slipped from her fingers as I pulled it from her grasp and tossed it carelessly onto the dressing table. It clattered against the surface, loud in the hush of the room.
Her eyes flicked up to mine, wide and unwavering.
I gathered her hair in my fist, twisting it gently until her head tipped back, exposing her throat’s long, graceful line.
“Are you happy to see me?” I asked.
“Yes,” she whispered, her breath catching, her body straining subtly toward mine.
I bent, my mouth grazing her skin.
I dragged my tongue up the curve of her shoulder, tasting her skin as I traced a deliberate path to the edge of her jaw. Her pulse fluttered beneath my tongue—delicious, frantic.
I lifted her to her feet with a firm tug on her hair.
She winced, but obeyed—trembling, breath catching, undeniably alive.
Tilting her chin higher, I raked my teeth across her throat—not enough to break skin, but enough to make her freeze. A warning. A promise. A silent claim.
Then, I released her.
She shuddered, wiping my spit from her neck with shaking fingers, her eyes wide with something between arousal and fear.
I scanned the room like it belonged to me, as if it did. Alina’s body quivered, her breaths shallow and fast. The only sound breaking the charged silence was the thunder of her heartbeat, so loud it echoed in my ears.
My cock twitched with hunger.
I reached out, letting my fingers graze the line of her jaw. Her skin tingled beneath my touch as I leaned in, my voice a low rasp.
“You’re so beautiful.”
She blushed, lips parted, but no words came.
I smiled, amused by her silence, and stepped closer, pressing my body flush against hers. Her gasp was sharp and real as my hands slid around her waist, gripping her, claiming her.
“Do you want me to take you?” I murmured, my breath hot against her ear. “Shall I fuck you long and hard?”
“Yes,” she whispered, so soft it was nearly a breath. But I heard it. Felt it.
Her skin bloomed with heat as I claimed her mouth in a kiss that was more conquest than affection—deep, demanding, possessive. She melted into it, body surrendering completely.
Without breaking the kiss, I lifted her into my arms. Her legs wrapped around my waist instinctively, and I carried her across the room, never once releasing her lips.
I slammed her gently but firmly against the wall, the thud vibrating through both of us. My hands gripped her hips, grinding her against the hard line of my arousal.
My mouth claimed hers, tongue plunging deep, tasting her moans like nectar.
My hands swept over her body, exploring every curve, teasing every inch until she was gasping, writhing, undone beneath my touch.
Each stroke, each kiss, each grind of my hips dragged her closer to the edge, unraveling her piece by piece.
She clung to me, her body slick with desire, her breath ragged in my mouth.
She was mine in that moment.
Undone.
Devoted.
Desperate.
I stepped away just as her legs began to shake, her pleasure cresting. She sagged against the wall, eyes wide, lips parted, flushed and breathless. The need in her was unmistakable—written in the arch of her spine, the tremble in her thighs, the hunger in her stare.
But I wasn’t done playing.
Not yet.
I wanted her begging.
“What are you doing?” she asked, voice thick with frustration. “Why did you stop?”
I circled her, eyes locked on hers. “Tell me… how much do you want me? Want this?” I dragged a finger between us, letting the tension coil tighter.
“Desperately,” she breathed. “Can’t you feel it? I ache for you.”
She reached for me, but I slapped her hand away with a cruel smirk. Her gasp thrilled me.
“There are… conditions,” I said.
“Anything,” she whispered, clasping her hands beneath her chin like a supplicant at the altar. “Please, Lord Balthazar… I’m yours. Yours to command. Yours to take.”
Oh, yes. That was more like it.
“You can be my lover,” I murmured, stepping close again, letting my breath fan across her ear. “But I travel. Often. You may take another lover while I’m gone, if your body demands it.”
She blinked. I could see the confusion in her eyes.
“But,” I said, my voice turning to ice and fire, “when I return—when I come to you—you belong to me and me alone. No others. No games. No distractions. You are mine. Your mouth, your heart, your body… all of it.”
My gaze darkened, daring her to object. “And if you defy me, Alina…” I leaned in, pressing my lips to her ear. “There will be hell to pay.”
My words settled over her like a veil. I watched her face shift—desire flickering into shock, uncertainty curling at the edges… and then, something darker. Something untamed.
“I’ll do it,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, trembling like her resolve. “Whatever you ask. I’ll keep you a secret. I’ll be yours.”
“Good girl,” I purred, brushing a kiss along the delicate curve of her jaw. “But remember—secrets are delicious… until they turn deadly.”
She lifted her gaze to mine, searching my face as if trying to see through me. To find the monster… or the man.
“Okay,” she breathed again, lips barely parting.
I smiled assuredly, placing my hand on her shoulder. My thumb traced lazy circles against her creamy throat, feeling the rush of blood beneath the surface. We stayed like that for a moment, suspended in silence, our eyes locked in mutual understanding.
She wouldn’t tell. I knew it in my bones.
I leaned in, brushing my lips against hers—a ghost of a kiss, meant to tease, to tempt.
She held still, rigid with restraint.
Then, she bit my lip.
I pulled back with a low, startled laugh, the tingle of pain blooming across my mouth. My eyes searched hers, finding defiance glinting in her stare.
So, she had claws.
I wiped the blood from my lip with my thumb and pressed it against her mouth.
She hissed… then sucked my thumb into her mouth, eyes locked on mine.
A low growl rumbled in my chest.
I kissed her again—deeper this time, tasting defiance and submission in the same breath. Her soft moan vibrated into my mouth as I cradled her face, my hands slipping down her neck to feel the heat thrumming beneath her skin.
My lips traced her jaw, down to the hollow of her throat, then to the curve of her shoulder. Her pulse fluttered beneath my tongue; her breathing turned rapid and shallow.
She was trembling for me.
And gods help me—I liked it.
I drew back and took her hand, guiding her to the bed.
She sat on the edge, graceful and silent atop the feather-and-herb-stuffed mattress, her eyes never leaving mine. I slid her dressing gown from her shoulders, letting it fall in soft, silent whispers around her waist. Her skin glowed in the candlelight, and I took a moment—too long—to look at her.
I hung the garment neatly on the back of the chair, a strange courtesy amid lust.
Then I returned to her.
My fingers slid through her hair to her neck, and she leaned into the touch, eyes fluttering closed. Her skin was silk beneath my hands, scented with herbs and desire. I lingered at her shoulder, breathing her in.
I growled quietly at the tenderness creeping into my hands and the way she disarmed me.
I didn’t want to be gentle.
I didn’t want to woo her.
I wanted to claim her.
My clothes hit the floor in a flurry of motion. I returned to the bed where she lay, her chest rising and falling in shallow breaths, her body warm and waiting.
I had never craved anyone the way I craved Alina.
She was a vision of contrasts—soft curves, angelic features, and the promise of sin lingering in her eyes. Everything about her ignited a deep, primal hunger in me. But it wasn’t just her beauty that stirred me.
It was the thought of taking her completely, possessing every inch of her—mind, body, soul.
She trembled beneath my gaze. The sight only stoked the fire in my veins.
The candlelight flickered across her skin, casting shadows that danced over her breasts, hips, and the delicate hollow of her throat.
My eyes drank her in, gleaming with lust, and I saw her shrink slightly beneath the weight of my stare.
My tall frame loomed above her, and for a moment, she looked so small. So helpless.
So mine.
I smiled and licked my lips, savoring how flawlessly the game unfolded.
I leaned down, my lips grazing her ear, my breath hot as it swept over her skin. She shivered.
“Do you want to be mine?” I asked, my voice low, rough, and unrelenting.
Alina gave a weak nod.
“How much?”
“With all my heart and soul,” she whispered.
“Then show me.”