Waltz of the Lioness

Cora

She felt drained as the last tremors of her heat subsided.

Once she could breathe again, she tried to pull away from the man who was still intimately connected to her. His frown made her freeze.

“I’m sorry, your highness. I appreciate your…assistance.” She blushed, struggling to express her gratitude for the intimate act they’d just shared.

She couldn’t meet his gaze, her cheeks burning at the memory of their closeness. “I’ll just leave now. I didn’t mean to…bother you, sire.”

She couldn’t find the right words to describe what had just happened. Was it even appropriate to thank someone for that?

Despite her embarrassment, her upbringing kicked in, reminding her to always be polite and respectful. But even to her, the words sounded out of place in this situation.

When she tried to move away from him again, he growled.

“And what will you do when your next heat comes?” he asked, his gaze intense, making her lose her composure.

She looked at him, confused. His dark eyes held hers, stealing her breath and scattering her thoughts. “Another what?”

“Heat. What your lioness triggered when she found her mate and demanded to be tamed.”

He watched her closely, his fingers tracing patterns on her shoulder. “You do know what that is, don’t you, Cora?”

She shook her head. This was all new to her.

She was never supposed to mate naturally.

Her life was supposed to be simple—her human half would marry a man chosen by her adoptive parents.

As an omega, she couldn’t have asked for more. Or so she’d been told.

She glanced at him, her face twisted in confusion. “There will be another?”

His laughter made her flinch, the humiliation coursing through her veins. Yet, his deep, throaty laugh sent a thrill through her body.

“Someone has done you a great disservice, my sweet.”

He paused, his fingers tracing her collarbone. She gasped at the unexpected sensitivity of her skin.

“You will continue to go into heat until five days have passed, or you have conceived. That’s the purpose of your heat.”

Her eyes widened, her mouth falling open. The sensation on her shoulder was forgotten.

“But…I’m not supposed to have children. I’m just an omega. I’m not worthy of such an honor, your highness.”

His frown deepened, his eyes scanning her as if searching for answers. She blushed under his scrutiny.

She had offended him, maybe even disgraced him. The thought of his highness mating with a lowly omega must be devastating to him.

When he finally spoke, she closed her eyes and held her breath, bracing for the scolding she was sure would come.

“First, we need to clear something up. I will not be called your highness or ~sire~ by my own ~mate~.

“You will call me Brock, or find another term of endearment. Understood?”

His fingers resumed their gentle exploration of her body, sending a shiver through her.

She nodded, her lips pressed together. The idea of addressing royalty by their first name was unsettling.

His touch was tender, but she could sense a hidden strength and anger. Maybe he was annoyed at her audacity.

She felt a sting of guilt. She needed to splash water on her face, to refocus her thoughts away from him and onto finding a solution to her predicament.

Or maybe she just needed to cool the heat his touch was spreading through her body.

His dark hair fell over his forehead, almost hiding his intense brown eyes.

His fingers, strong and long, danced on her skin, mirroring his powerful physique.

She’d never seen a naked man before, but she was sure his body would put others to shame. It was perfectly sculpted, not an ounce of fat on him.

His sensual lips made her feel beautiful, desired, and naive all at once, stirring unfamiliar feelings in her.

Maybe he was right… Maybe she had been done a great disservice.

“May I please be excused?”

The silence was unnerving, testing her resolve.

She still had time to get home before her parents discovered her betrayal. The challenge would be showing enough remorse for missing her introduction to her betrothed.

And dealing with the fact that she’d lost her virginity…and slept with the king.

Her head spun, her lioness’s recklessness complicating her situation. Getting out of this mess was proving much harder than getting into it.

His breathing was slow and deliberate as he traced a finger over her bare skin to the curve of her breast, his eyes locked on hers.

She gasped, closing her eyes against the sweet torment of his touch. She was losing control, fighting the urge to surrender to the pleasure of his arms again.

Instead of answering her question, he moved off her, freeing her from his hold. She felt a sense of loss as his weight lifted from her.

She pulled her robe back over her shoulders, hiding herself from his gaze. She fastened it tightly, slid off the bed, and headed for the door.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

His words held a threat she could hear and feel. His eyes were dark, his voice edged with something she couldn’t identify.

She felt a wave of anxiety, glancing from him to the door and back again.

“I just need some water,” she said softly, unsure.

Heat spread across her skin, making it impossible for her to meet his gaze.

He lounged on the bed, unabashedly naked, his hand resting on a bent knee. His body was a sight to behold.

She’d stolen a quick glance at his softened cock, and it was more than she thought she could handle, given her lack of experience.

She felt a wetness pooling between her legs and hoped he wouldn’t notice.

He gestured lazily towards a door at the far end of the room.

“That’s our private bathroom.” His voice was gentle, but there was a warning in his words.

“You might not want to wander around in your robe looking for another one. Not with your pheromones filling the air.

“Your lioness is powerful, but you haven’t learned to control her yet.”

His words felt like a slap, as if he was mocking her for her ignorance. As if he despised her innocence.

She lowered her gaze and moved towards the door he’d pointed out. “Yes, sire.”

His growl was a reminder of her promise to him, a promise she’d hoped to avoid. But it had slipped out, and she’d managed to offend him again.

There was no fixing it now, so she clutched her robe to her chest and walked through the door.

“Cora!” His voice was sharp, stopping her just before she closed the door. “You’ll want to be quick.”

Why did it matter if she took a few minutes or a few hours to calm her emotions and cool the heat coursing through her?

She didn’t look back at him. Seeing him only made the heat worse, and she was already struggling to contain it.

“Yes, si—Brock.” The door clicked shut, and she leaned against it for support. Maybe a cold shower was what she needed.

The bathroom was more like the spas her adoptive mother used to take her to when Anton was away.

A large glass shower dominated the room.

Inside, there were at least ten shower heads, positioned to hit her body from every angle. It was big enough to comfortably fit five people.

A tub sat on a raised platform on one side of the room, a picture window stretching across its length.

Cora couldn’t imagine ever wanting to bathe in front of such a large window.

Outside, a private garden was enclosed by the quarters she now shared with this man.

It was a small piece of paradise, filled with greenery and splashes of color. The lights gave it a romantic, ethereal glow.

The garden was larger than the one at her adoptive parents’ house, though she suspected there were even larger ones on the property.

Two sinks and counters were separated by a door that she assumed led to a closet, but she’d been taught not to be nosy.

Ignoring the urge to explore the room, she shuffled towards the shower and turned the knob.

Water sprang from each shower head, filling the glass enclosure. She adjusted the temperature to lukewarm, then let her robe fall to the floor.

The heat was returning, making her uncomfortable. The cool water should help quench the fire building within her.

She stepped into the shower, letting the water wash over her. She tilted her head back, letting the water plaster her pale hair to her skin.

The water flowed over her, cleansing every crevice and hollow of her body.

She turned slowly under the jets, small sounds of pleasure escaping her lips as she reveled in the sensation.

She stayed in the shower for a long time, losing track of the minutes. More than half an hour passed as she stood there, rotating slowly, hoping the water could wash away her worries.

It felt good to let go, and it helped to cool the heat that kept creeping over her.

She was surprised that the water was still warm. She’d expected the hot water to run out by now.

A bottle of citrus and vanilla shampoo sat on a small glass shelf at eye level. She pumped a small amount into her hand and inhaled deeply. Pure indulgence! What would her parents say if she came home smelling like this?

The moon was still high in the sky. She should have time to get home before they woke up. Would they still be downstairs? Or out looking for her?

The last thought worried her. She didn’t want Darcy to have to protect her from Anton’s temper again.

She lathered the shampoo in her hands and massaged it into her scalp. Once her hair was full of bubbles, she leaned back into the stream of water.

The scented foam ran over her body, slipping down the small of her back and between her legs.

For a moment, she spread her legs slightly, letting the foam caress her.

The intensity of her desire was starting to scare her. Her lioness was restless inside her, urging her to satisfy her needs. She wanted her lion, her mate.

“No,” she whispered to herself. “You can’t do this to me…not again.” She pushed back, hard.

She grabbed a loofah from its hook, feeling the need to scrub her body clean.

It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy his scent and taste all over her. Quite the opposite. She was intoxicated by it, and it made her body crave things it had never wanted before.

No, it was because it drove her lioness wild, and Cora had to fight for control.

The scent of citrus filled the room as she scrubbed her body, leaving her skin red.

When she ran the loofah over her breasts, her nipples hardened. The sensation sent a jolt straight to her core, and she continued to scrub them, prolonging the feeling.

Her hand moved instinctively, gliding through the soap that cascaded from her breasts to her stomach.

A soft moan escaped her lips, swallowed by the drumming shower water. She hoped the sound wouldn’t carry beyond the bathroom.

Her fingers hesitated at the edge of her curls, just shy of the sensitive spot that was begging for attention. She paused, questioning her actions. Her body was acting in such a provocative way, and she was letting it.

A sudden wave of desire hit her, making her whimper.

She tried to ignore it, downplaying the intensity of her feelings. She didn’t want to admit the truth in Brock’s words, or acknowledge the power they held over her.

She focused on rinsing the soap from her skin. Another wave of desire crashed into her, and she stifled a cry. It was getting stronger.

She turned off the water, stepping onto her discarded robe and reaching for a towel hanging nearby. All the while, her body’s demands weighed heavily on her.

The next wave of desire was so strong it brought her to her knees.

She curled up on the floor, pulling her knees to her chest. Wave after wave of desire rolled through her, leaving her weak and at the mercy of her inner beast.

“Please, no,” she begged. “Not again,” she pleaded with her lioness. But her beast had waited long enough. It was pushing her to satisfy its needs.

Her breath came in ragged gasps. She tried to steady it with deep breaths, inhaling the citrus scent that mingled with her own arousal.

“I can’t…” A tear slipped down her cheek as she fought against her inner beast, but she was losing the battle.

Her body shook as she let each wave of desire hit her, squeezing her thighs together against the ache and pain each one brought.

She lost track of time, curled up on the floor, rocking herself against the onslaught of her body’s demands.

She heard him knock on the door, heard him call her name, but she couldn’t make sense of it.

She couldn’t tell if he was worried or annoyed, angry or concerned.

All she knew was that the voice belonged to him.

That was all it took for her lioness to break free from the last threads of control Cora had. She rolled onto all fours, knowing she was powerless.

Her teeth gritted together as she tried to keep her beast caged, fighting with the last of her strength. Her claws were already emerging, and a pale gold shimmer covered her skin.

The lioness was coming to claim what was hers.