Feeling the delicate embrace of the sun's rays against my healthy cheeks, I rose from the king-sized(laid with scarlet and burgundy bedding) with a slackened smile. My new room, so mind-bogglingly extensive it might have sufficed as an entire house, overlooked the sprawling green hills past pockets of dark woodlands.
It was a breathtaking scenery with the golden rays suffusing the waking lands in a golden sheen. A scenery I had the pleasure of witnessing that early morning as I stood beside the large French windows in my translucent, snow-white nightdress.
I looked around and noticed my packed walk-in closet(I assume the maids had worked tirelessly overnight to cram the initially empty space with white, red and some black and purple apparel). The more I resided there, I believed, the more I would grow into Isolde's(my radiant knight's) resplendent princess in the lonely castle. Nonetheless, would I manage to restrain the beguiling allure of the 'evil dragon'?
I smiled softly at my floating thoughts, momentarily forgetting what had brought me there - pain and passion. With a fleeting thought, I stepped into my colossal bathroom - complete with shampoos and cosmetics which were worth a king's ransom - to take a hot shower.
***
Beads of sweat glided down my rose-tinted skin, carried by dribbling blobs of soap and water as I stood beneath the shower head. Steam had risen around my figure. I looked down at my unblemished skin, my right hand reaching for my damp hair while my left hand caressed the scar that was a little above my hip. I sighed as the relaxing atmosphere slackened my nerves.
It all felt like a dream I would wake up from at any moment, and then find myself once again trapped in that suffocating and lonely place. The place I had escaped from with nothing but pain.
However, when I opened my eyes, the relaxing feeling around me had not depreciated. This was a dream I strongly desired to see the ending of - and let it be a jubilant ending, I hoped.
***
I strode into the quiet, extensive kitchen that was darkened by the little light outside the castle. Of course, it was still quite early, so I could effortlessly make myself breakfast as I was certain the maids were too overworked(over my sleepy, dreamless night) to be forced into the task.
As I fried an egg, I heard gentle motions in the darkness. Still, I fixated my attention on the simmering egg, believing that it was most likely a maid or Bernard snooping around to monitor my activities. Nonetheless, the footfalls grew closer until I felt an unmistakable presence at my back. My heart skipped a beat, before the throbs in my pulse grew sporadic, probably ingraining deep impressions upon my flesh and veins. A cool, wintry scent floated from behind me making me moan quietly beneath my breath.
Strong arms wandered round my back, wrinkling the thin fabric of my dress, only for the rough hands to reach for the container filled with sugar cubes which happened to also be in front of me. "Early riser, aren't you?" inquired the man behind me in a slightly lethargic tone, his breath hot and raspy against my skin as he stood behind me. His voice was much cooler and nonchalant than before. He sounded vaguely soft like the slow drizzle upon a world's morning.
I could still feel the gentle graze of his coarse fingertips against my arms and waist. Even now, his front was still impressed against my back as he spoke, his voice dripping with languidness.
"Mmm. It is. Do you eat eggs?" I asked flatly, focusing my quivering golden eyes on the frying pan. 'Yes, focus on the egg. Focus on the egg, Aisha. Certainly not the holder of the seed to fertilize it...'
"No, I eat rice," he responded comically, as though to spite me. From behind me, I knew he would easily glimpse my changing expression. I glanced at him, with a lopsided grin, and my poor eyes rested on his shirtless upper body and his toned muscles. My jaw quickly slackened at the man's brazenness. This was also my first time to see so much of a man's unclothed body(well, if you exclude the R-rated movies Lilly had ardently recommended to me in our lovelorn days).
A pair of pitch-black running shorts hung precariously over Alexander's marble-like thighs, above which I easily perceived the distinct V line that vanished incompletely beneath the upper rim of his shorts. I pictured the already-warming vehemence of his member and gulped softly as tiny, warm beads of liquid formed on my forehead. How would he look at me if I teased him?
My warming gaze flickered away as soon as I noticed the mischievous grin that lit his seductive countenance after he had followed my gaze. I pursed my lips in frustration. It was so unfair that he was putting me through such sexual frustration. Was this also part of my babysitting job? To babysit him and maybe even occasionally grant him a lap dance to quieten his whimpers?
"I think your wife would find this scene quite unsettling," I reminded him, my voice unwillingly softer, albeit with a painful pang in my chest.
I obstinately focused my eyes on the frying pan.
Nonetheless, my golden eyes were trembling nonstop from his presence.
My quivering fingertips on the lukewarm wooden handle felt numb.
His deep voice responded with an airy chuckle. He followed to further impress his well-proportioned body against my perspiring back, his strong arms curling over my clenched stomach. I could feel every curve and plane of his body gently calling my body to surrender and wanted so much to moan in his embrace, but I bit my lower lip and suppressed the urge.
His chin was on my shoulder as he asked, teasingly, his breath igniting tingles over my bare neck, "Is that really what you think?"
If I still did not get the hint that this man strongly desired me(or at least was quite horny), I probably had a stone for a brain. My eyes flamed with lust, my heart palpitating avidly in my chest as though it had been granted a brand-new engine, as I finally turned to face him.
My heart instantly melted beneath the glower of his darkened grey eyes. The roaring intensity in his gaze was conceived by lust. A lust that I empathetically imagined had only been fueled by his fantastical dreams over the night since our first meeting.
The dim lighting did little to conceal his charms. At that moment, I could fervidly lick every outline of his muscles and he would reciprocate by ripping off my unflattering apparel, forgetting the burning egg on the cooker, and make me whimper for mercy beneath him...but then what?
I would be a homewrecker; that's what. And then I, the one and only Aisha Ergot(Selena Fawkner, for now), fugitive heiress to a multi-million conglomerate, would be kicked out of this castle, for being a slutty beggar no less.
Nonetheless, these consequences would not change the fact that I badly wanted this man. I wanted him so much that I could, with fervor, rip out my frail heart to give to him as a souvenir as I was chased out by his green wife. I had never desired a man like this before. Scratch that, had I ever desired any man at all before him? And did I truly deserve the sweet scorch of his desire when I had deceived him?
My labyrinthine thoughts increased my turmoil to no end. However, I loved myself too much to let myself be Alexander's unmemorable, fleeting entanglement. That's why I would make his desire for my touch a slavish one. I would make him crawl to my bedside each night and massage my feet beseechingly.
I slipped from his strong arms, against the feverish urge of my flesh and bones. A sultry smirk coloured my fair visage as I gazed back at his disappointed-but-still-remarkable visage. 'Why did the one and only man who stole my heart in one moment have to be the father to the adorable Isolde?'
"I can't do this with you when you're married, you bastard," I said flippantly, my thoughts becoming clearer as I looked at him steadfastly. This wasn't just about sex. It was about Isolde.
He smiled strangely. His veiny hand brushed back his dark fringe, his grey eyes curiously clearer than before. "Oh my, did I not tell you that I am a poor widower?" He asked sarcastically, making me twitch at my spot.
'This facetious man...'
The image of an envious wife chasing me out angrily with a broomstick while vomiting unmentionable expletives as Alexander watched helplessly with teary eyes - that picture was swiftly shattered into tiny pieces.
Said wife did not even exist at all yet, there I was, accusing this poor widower of infidelity yet simultaneously(and secretly) writing a book entitled 'The Art of Seduction'.
"You're a sinister dragon, Mr. Sear. I hope my knight will slaughter you soon," I said childishly and sheepishly, my cheeks transformed into a pair of tomatoes as I stamped out of the kitchen without looking back.
I heard him chuckle lowly behind me in the dimly-lit kitchen, perhaps celebrating at his quick victory. This only made me quicken my inflamed steps though I had little idea of where I was headed as that castle was akin to a labyrinth.
'I hope he gets suffocated by the smell of burnt egg,' I thought with a wry, impish grin but my heart was hammering my softening ribcage as our earlier interaction replayed vividly in my mind. His stunning, marble-like muscles were one thing but the sensation of his hard evil dragon knocking on the thin walls of our clothes was another...