5. Kaisner
KAISNER
C assandra reclines in her seat as our conversation winds down, a graceful motion that belies the fact that we’ve just traded secrets capable of toppling empires. “Kaisner, I can’t thank you enough for your insight. Your knowledge of the Shadow Beings is truly unparalleled.”
I incline my head, accepting the compliment with a slight smile. “It’s my pleasure, Cassandra. I’m always at your disposal—especially when it comes to matters of the arcane.”
She returns my smile, a glimmer of affection in her eyes. “We are lucky to have you as an ally.” She pauses, a thoughtful expression crossing her face. “How long will you be gracing Paris with your presence? I know you’ve been eager to settle into your estate in Lake Starnberg—a castle, I hear.”
I lean back in my chair, considering the question.
It’s true, I had been looking forward to the solitude and privacy of my new home, a place where I could delve into my studies without interruption.
But now, with the tantalizing prospect of unraveling the mysteries surrounding Clarissa and her brother, I discover my priorities shifting.
“Paris has a way of captivating the senses,” I muse, my voice low and thoughtful. “I find myself drawn to its charms more than I expected. I believe I shall extend my stay, immerse myself in all the city has to offer.”
Cassandra’s smile widens, genuine pleasure lighting her features. “Wonderful! You must let me play hostess. There are so many hidden delights I’m eager to share with you.”
I chuckle, the sound rich and warm. “I have no doubt. But for now, I’m afraid I must take my leave. I have some business to attend to in town.”
She rises, smoothing the folds of her dress. “Of course. I’ll walk you to the door.”
I hold up a hand, shaking my head. “No need, my dearest. I know the way.” I flash her a grin, all charm and confidence. “Besides, I wouldn’t want to keep you from your affairs.”
Cassandra agrees with a nod, and I take my leave, my strides purposeful as I navigate the manor’s luxurious halls. My mind is already racing ahead, anticipating the next move in this enticing game.
As I round the corner, I catch a glimpse of movement, a silhouette disappearing into the darkened parlor. A thrill courses through me, and I quicken my pace, slipping into the room.
I lock the door behind me, ensuring our privacy. Instantly, I am met with an oasis of opulence, every inch adorned with extravagant artwork and antiquities. The dimmed lights cast a sensual glow over the burgundy walls and glossy walnut paneling, setting a sultry mood.
And there, in the center of it all, stands Scarlett, the Deveraux’s enigmatic interior designer.
An enchanting woman in her late twenties, busy perusing a sample book of fabric swatches on a Louis XVI mahogany table.
She’s dressed impeccably in a tailored black skirt suit that hugs her curvaceous frame, accentuating her every asset.
Her long auburn hair cascades over her shoulders in luscious waves, and her blue eyes sparkle with awareness as she senses my presence.
Her gaze meets mine, a challenge and an invitation all in one. “I’ve been expecting you,” she murmurs, her voice low and seductive. She steps closer, drawn to me like a moth to a flame.
“Have you now?” I keep my tone light, teasing. “And what exactly were you expecting, Fr?ulein Scarlett?”
She tilts her head, a smirk playing at the corners of her lips. “I think you know what I want, Your Majesty.”
The title sends a shiver down my spine, a reminder of the power I wield, the secrets I hold. Oh, this woman is dangerous, a temptress with an agenda of her own.
But then again, so am I.
I close the distance between us, my hand coming up to trace the delicate line of her jaw. “Enlighten me,” I breathe, my mouth a hairsbreadth from hers.
And as she leans in, her eyes flashing with a hunger that matches my own, my hands land on her shoulders, eliciting electric thrills coursing through her slender body.
“Kneel, sweetheart,” I purr. “It suits you.” Our stares lock as I guide her down to her knees.
Her plump lips part ever so slightly, revealing a glimpse of pearly white teeth and a sensual mischief within.
My heartbeat quickens as she sinks to the oriental rug below me, dropping the sample book in the process. The expensive fabrics fan out across the floor, an ironic display of luxury and decadence at our feet.
I lean against the door, my body stiff with anticipation as I undo my belt.
The cool air caresses my growing arousal, making it twitch with desire.
Scarlett’s sapphire eyes never leave mine as her manicured fingers brush against the length of my trousers, teasing me through the fabric.
She knows what I want, what I need, and she’s all too eager to oblige.
With a smile that could melt ice, she unzips my pants, freeing me from their confines.
Her hot breath hits my sweet spot as she leans in closer, her red-stained lips forming a perfect O.
My eyes roll back as her talented mouth engulfs me, her tongue tracing lazy circles around the head of my erection before taking me in deeper.
Her delicate hands grip my hips, urging me further as if I needed any more encouragement.
Lost in the moment, my thoughts drift to Clarissa’s sapphire eyes and her porcelain skin.
I remember the way her dress clung to her curves, accentuating every graceful line of her figure.
Her laughter echoes in my mind, a symphony that will surely haunt my dreams. Gods, how I ached for her then.
How I long for her now… In my fantasy, it’s Clarissa’s silky hair in my grasp as I guide her mouth upon me, not Scarlett’s.
Moaning inwardly, I feel myself being enveloped in waves of pleasure.
Scarlett is skilled in the art of seduction; every flick of her tongue and stroke of her hand, designed to bring about ecstasy.
Her practiced fingers dance along the base of my shaft as her mouth continues its relentless assault, her warm, wet licks swirling around me like a proficient dancer.
My grip on her hair tightens, urging her on, my breath coming in ragged gasps.
I close my eyes, imagining it’s Clarissa’s soft touch between my thighs, not Scarlett’s.
The thought of her innocence crumbling before me sends a shiver down my spine.
The room around us disappears as I descend into a haze of pure lust. I can smell the light scent of Scarlett’s Versace Crystal Noir mingled with the musky perfume of arousal, but it’s the ghostly aroma of Clarissa’s Chanel Coco Mademoiselle that fills my senses, teasing my nostrils and heightening my desire.
With each flick of Scarlett’s tongue, I envision it’s Clarissa’s lips on me, her inexperienced touch firing a hunger within me that no amount of experience could ever match.
As I feel myself reaching the edge, I open my eyes to see Scarlett’s face etched with an expression of pure concentration.
Her sapphire orbs are nowhere near the pale hue of Clarissa’s; they don’t hold the same depth, the same allure.
But for now, they will have to do. Picturing those eyes staring up at me, I release myself into her willing mouth with a primal growl.
Her lips tighten around me, milking every last drop of pleasure from my spent body.
As the haze clears, Scarlett looks up at me, her lipstick smudged and hair disheveled, yet she still manages to exude an air of sensuality that would make any man weak at the knees.
But not me. My eyes harden as I return my arousal to its boundaries and fasten my pants.
“Cassandra isn’t the only one I have my sights set on,” I say casually, adjusting my tie. “I want you to find me everything there is to know about Clarissa Draken.”
Scarlett blinks up at me in surprise, but she recovers quickly, wiping the remnants of our encounter from her mouth with the back of her hand.
“Of course, sir,” she purrs, and rising to her feet, she adjusts her blouse and smooths down her skirt.
“Is there anything else you desire?” Her cool indifference, a sharp contrast to the blazing heat she just ignited in me.
I run my fingers through my hair, shoving away the image of Clarissa’s angelic face that lingered in my mind’s eye. “No, that will do for now,” I say coldly.
Without a single word, I unlock the door and step out into the deserted hallway, straightening my suit jacket as if nothing has happened.
The memory of Clarissa’s countenance still burns in my mind, an unquenchable fire stoked with this encounter with Scarlett, serving only to fuel the flame.
A part of me loathes myself for using her as a stand-in for what I truly crave, but another part doesn’t care as long as it sates my desires—however temporarily.