Page 7 of Wings of Shadow
We settle into our usual routine—conversations, laughter, shared secrets, and half-forgotten memories. But even as we talk and the hours slip by, my thoughts keep drifting back to two things: the electric touch of the stranger’s hand, and the haunted look in Juliette’s eyes when I spoke that cursed name.
I don’t know who the stranger is, or what role he’s meant to play in my life. But I do know one thing with absolute certainty.
Nothing will ever be the same again.
5
KAISNER
Cassandra 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, Fräulein 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.
