Cinnia. She was both a problem and a delight to him. She was intelligent. Of that Dillon had no doubt. But she was also prideful and stubborn. She was known as the sorceress of Belmair, but then Belmairans were not a complex people. Their descendants on Hetar were far more sophisticated. Still, they sprang from the same root stock.
Cinnia, however, was not like the women he had known. She did not seem to be in the least interested in taking pleasures with him. She had accepted the joining, but after that she held him at bay. His mother was a woman of great passion, and his sisters would follow her lead. The oldest of his sisters, Anoush, had already had at least two lovers, but she was not yet quite ready to wed. Cinnia had exhibited great passion in the joining, but since then she had been cold and distant toward him. He didn’t understand.
He was handsome. Skilled. Patient. Lustful. What more did a woman want in a lover?
He had been given a serving man, one Ferrex by name. Ferrex was neither old, nor young. He was almost as tall as Dillon; quite dignified with a totally bald pate and dark gray eyes. Now he came silently into the room, waiting patiently for his master to notice him. As Dillon seemed quite deep in thought Ferrex finally murmured, “My lord.”
The younger man looked up. “Ah, Ferrex, I have strayed from my schedule, haven’t I? Have I missed anything that I should not have?”
“Not to my knowledge, Your Majesty, but I did not hear you come in,” Ferrex said.
“More often than not I travel by magic,” Dillon explained. “It is more direct. You will not hear me come in unless I call for you. I was at the Academy speaking with Prentice, the scholar on ancient Belmair. I need to know more of your world before I can even begin to solve the problem of the missing women.”
“My niece was taken several years ago,” Ferrex said. “My sister sent her to pick berries and watercress for the meal. She never returned, and no trace of her was ever found. She was just fifteen.”
“Here on Belmair isle?” Dillon asked his servant.
“Nay, on Beldane,” Ferrex answered him.
“This is happening on all the four islands?” Dillon queried the man.
“Aye, Your Majesty. None have been spared,” Ferrex replied.
“Did you want something?” Dillon said.
“The young queen was wondering if you planned to join her for the evening meal,” Ferrex said quietly.
Dillon turned his head, and saw the sun was low on the horizon. “I did not realize how late it was,” he admitted. “Aye, go and tell Her Majesty I will join her shortly.”
“I will send your page, Your Majesty,” Ferrex said. “Then I will return to see you properly garbed for the evening.” He bowed himself from the room.
Dillon smiled to himself. With Ferrex in his employ, the king of Belmair would never appear not at his best. And when he had finally bathed and dressed, Dillon had to admit that he looked the part he suddenly found himself playing. He descended to the Great Hall in a fine ruby-colored silk robe with a keyhole neckline and wide sleeves, the turned-back cuffs of which were embroidered in red crystals and tiny black beads.
“I thought you had gone,” Cinnia greeted him.
“Where would I go?” he asked her, accepting a goblet of rich red wine.
“Back to Hetar, perhaps?” she said.
“You are an odd creature,” he told her. “One moment you are pleasant, the next you are as sour as an old woman, and you refuse to take pleasures with me.”
“You Hetarians go on much about taking pleasures all the time,” Cinnia answered him. “Why is it so important to you? The night should be for sleeping and restoring one’s energies, my lord. Not for adding to your exhaustion.”
“Taking pleasures is very relaxing,” Dillon said to her, surprised. “And pleasures are not necessarily confined to the nighttime hours. They can be taken at anytime and in anyplace. I have made love in a garden beneath the noonday sun, and in a desert oasis with only the stars for light, as well as in my bed.”
Cinnia wrinkled her nose. “Have I not said I do not wish to hear about your other women, my lord? It is not a subject that is of interest to me, nor are your exploits. But as I do not wish you to be discontent in Belmair for we need your magic, let us set a time each week for us to take pleasures together. If your lusts need to be released more frequently then you have my permission to take a concubine for your pleasures.”
“Nay, Cinnia, only you will serve my lusts, and you will do so when and where I desire it,” Dillon told her.
“How dare you order me about!” Cinnia cried out angrily.
“Dare?” He laughed briefly. “May I remind you, Cinnia, that I am the king of Belmair. And you are its queen only because I permit you to be. I think perhaps the time has come for me to teach you that lesson so you will not forget it again.” Reaching out he yanked her into his arms and kissed her hard. “Soften your lips,” he commanded her, and then he kissed her again. This time the kiss was slow and hot.
Her heart was beating wildly, but she wasn’t going to let this foreigner they had made her marry control her. Cinnia bit the lips kissing hers.
“Ouch!” Dillon yelped, surprised that she would fight back. But then taking her by her arm he dragged her across the hall, sat down upon a chair and yanked her down across his lap, pulling up her silk skirts as he did. His big hand descended to make contact with her bare flesh as he licked the blood from his lips.
Cinnia squealed furiously. “Stop that at once, you brute!” she commanded him.
Dillon began to spank her in earnest. “Did no one ever bother to teach you manners, you vicious little bitch?” he demanded. Eight. Nine. Ten.
“I hate you!” Cinnia yelled, and she struggled to escape his grasp.
“Your behavior and attitude haven’t exactly warmed my heart, either,” he growled at her. His hand continued to smack at her round bottom. Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen.
“I’ll never take pleasures with you again, you beast!” she threatened.
“Oh, yes, you will,” Dillon replied. Twenty! “I’m going to teach you how to be a woman, Cinnia.” He dumped her onto the hall floor, and stood up. “Anytime. Anyplace.” He quickly pulled her up. “Here. Now!”
Cinnia suddenly found herself being drawn down into his lap, and onto his manhood. She gasped with surprise to find herself very wet and ready for him. How could this be? He had been violent with her, and not at all a lover. She moaned low as her burning buttocks made contact with his bare thighs, and she felt him inside her fully sheathed. “The servants!” she cried softly.
“Will learn to be discreet,” he said as softly. “Now ride me, my queen, and ride me hard. If you do not give me pleasures, Cinnia, I will move us to the high board, and take you there until you do,” he threatened her. “I will lay your naked body upon that polished wood and make you scream for all in the castle to hear. Now, ride me!”
Cinnia began to cry. “I don’t know how!”
