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His fingers drifted on top of the cleft of my bottom and I was thankful for the layers of fabric that protected me. I turned away, ignoring him. His hand left my back and he took my fingers in his. His touch was firm. There was a warning there and I disregarded that too.
“Come. I will introduce you to some of the members of my court that are important to me, my little concubine,” he said softly.
I did my very best not to react this time, but I decided that I sincerely disdained being called his concubine. There was a certain tension around his eyes, and I was certain he knew it too. He confidently led me away from the table, off the stage and into the crowd dancing in the center of the room. I realized that some of the tables had been moved out of the way to create something of a dance floor. Not only that, but a pretty female voice rang out, singing cover songs of many hits that I recognized from the past twenty years or so. Right now, she was singing a soft ballad that had the court slow dancing and swaying from side to side.
Matteo introduced me to a number of people, and I nodded politely to them all, doing my best to swallow my pride and ignore every time he introduced me as his concubine. I was able to control my ire for the most part, that is until it came time to exchange words with the duchessa. She saw the two of us coming, and if looks could kill, the one she was giving me would have caused me to burn to death in an epic display of fire and flame.
Up close, she was quite beautiful. Her skin was pale as porcelain and her hair was jet black. It shone with natural health, curled into tight ringlets around her face that transformed into gentle waves that cascaded down her back. Her hazel irises shone with flecks of gold and green. A small nose and defined cheekbones completed her regal look and I was left with little doubt that she would have looked like perfection beside Matteo as his queen.
It also appeared that she wanted to be. Badly. She stared at me with daggers in her eyes until the king spoke to her. Her entire face softened in his direction.
“Duchessa Amara,” Matteo purred. I decided I really didn’t like the way her name rolled off his tongue. I curled my fingers into my palm, pressing my nails into my skin hard enough to keep myself from saying anything that I shouldn’t.
“King Matteo,” she said, her voice equally as velvety. I decided I didn’t like that either.
A servant passed a glass of wine into my hand, another to the duchessa, and one to the king. I clutched at mine, curling my fingers hard around the silver stem in an effort to keep myself calm. I tried not to focus on the feeling of spiraling out of control. I tried to not think about how I didn’t belong.
“Duchessa, I wanted to personally introduce you to my concubine, Isabella De Luca,” he said, his voice firm, loud, and authoritative. Her eyes fell on me, feeling piercing and judgmental and I did the thing I was trying so very hard not to do. I lost control of my anger.
I tossed my glass of wine right in the king’s face.
I hated that he’d called me his whore in front of her. I hated the fact that she’d enjoyed it even more.
The entire room went deadly silent. I’d raised my hand against the king, and everyone had seen the whole thing. I watched almost in horror as the wine dripped from his hair, down his cheeks, and off of his chin, staining the pristine white of the shirt he was wearing beneath his tailored suit. I swallowed heavily, aghast that I was the reason for it.
Fuck.
My mouth went dry and I swallowed nervously. I really shouldn’t have done that. He turned his head toward me and stared, his eyes searching mine. I could almost feel him deciding what to do with me. For a quick second, his eyes darted around the court and I saw his expression fall almost imperceptibly before it hardened once more. I couldn’t even bring myself to glance in the duchessa’s direction because I was pretty sure she would be gloating with victory. She didn’t say a word and I knew deep in my heart that she didn’t have to.
I’d sealed my own fate. She hadn’t even had to lift a finger.
I expected him to reach out and slap me, to order my banishment or even worse, my death.
He didn’t do any of that. Instead, he just started to laugh, and the entire demeanor of the crowd started to relax, if a bit hesitantly. After his amusement died down, the king cleared his throat. He had made a choice and I swallowed anxiously as I waited for what he
had ultimately decided to do with me.
“Well, my noble court, it seems that I need to punish Isabella tonight and I want to ask what you would prefer. Would you like me to take my concubine off to her rooms to discipline her in private or would you rather see a show tonight?” he roared, his voice light even as it made my stomach drop straight down to my toes. I almost forgot how to breathe as time seemed to slow. My eyes tore around the crowd, watching as their eyes lit up in anticipation for what was to come next.
The crowd started to roar and even as I hoped for the king to decide to take me back to my room, I knew that was too much to ask for. The crowd was tingling from fantastic wine and so flushed from dancing that I was sure that they didn’t want the night to end and would be more than happy to be able to watch the king deal with me, no matter what that meant.
I didn’t feel the same. I was ready to disappear into a black hole and never venture out again.
“Show. Show. Show,” the crowd chanted over and over again until my heart drummed nervously with each word. I shivered and hesitantly peered back at Matteo, who met my eyes. I feared what I saw there. His eyes had turned dark and I suddenly remembered that he’d given me that same look right before he’d thrown open the window and presented me to his people, only to press a finger in my bottom at the same time he fucked me hard with his cock.
The entire room reverberated with their chant and I feared that it would only lead to my doom.
The king grasped my hand and pulled me close to him, curling his arm around my waist. He twirled me as he did so that my back pressed against the hardness of his chest.
“Naughty girl. Remember, you earned this,” the king whispered into my ear and I shivered against him.
He cleared his throat and I closed my eyes, feeling my stomach drop straight to my toes in icy cold fear. At the very same time, I felt something else. Very reluctant arousal was simmering deep inside my core. I didn’t understand why. I almost didn’t want to.
Was I broken or so incredibly flawed in some way that the thought of being punished by the king turned me on? Had I thrown my wine at him in hopes that he’d take me in hand once more?
I trembled as I waited for him to speak again, to give me some sort of clue as to what he was going to do to me, and when his voice eventually surrounded me it felt like a warm embrace. I held onto it like a vise.
“Clear off the king’s table completely. I’ll deal with my naughty little concubine thoroughly and tonight, my noble court, you will be allowed the privilege of watching the whole thing,” the king exclaimed, and his people roared with applause. I felt my legs go weak and I very much wished I could run, but he held me tightly as if he could read my every thought.
