“… be wounded by your own understanding of love, and bleed willingly and joyfully.” ―
The carriage pulled behind the grandstand, a pavilion-like structure built on an old terrace of stone walls and packed earth now cleansed and manicured to erase the accumulated years of seasonal despair. The band in their crisp uniforms played traditional songs; some bright to lift the feet in dance and some bawdy to match the moods that pranced around slinging beer and merriment to the trampled ground.
Cezar opened the door and bowed to the Duchess in waiting. When he was fully upright in his resplendent persona, his hand caressed the Lady Drăgana’s wrist as his fingers sought her palm. There was Alexandra’s pause and then her head lifted from her hesitant step. Amber eyes alight with marigold flecks in the morning light took in the imminent face of Cezar. Onyx and cinnamon orbs drilled her with the intensity of a wolf lording over a yearling rabbit. The rabbit felt the panting of a hungry wolf on her hot cheeks that turned to fuschia pink. She reveled in his uplifted gaze as she felt the stairs of the carriage sway to her steps. Now on the ground, he towered over her.
She took in his breath on her face. The pink hotness of her cheeks spread to her neck and décolletage. Now the scent of his fine woolen jacket and damp morning air mingled with the feral scent from his proud chest. The world faded from Alexandra’s captivated eyes. She saw only the man who appraised her with a quiet shift of his eyes from her pupils, to her mouth, back to her eyes and then her breasts. She felt a rolling tension in her stomach as hunger registered on this beast of a man who held her hand as if it were a newly bloomed Bulgarian rose with thorns against his fingertips.
At that moment their eyes sought each other in mutual infatuation, the rabbit became an alpha she-wolf. Her chest lifted as she straightened herself in defiance of Cezar’s domination of her. With his eyes now rising back to her face, she wished she had round, full breasts like Dari’s. Maybe he would linger with her longer, she thought. She melted a tiny bit and her back felt moist as the Viscount smiled. He never smiled without reason. There was no lack of sincereness in his countenance now. Did he catch her scent? Did he know of her excitement at his touch and under his gaze?
“My dear lady, Cezar began in his thick and slow baritone; it is time for your ascendancy. I must tell you a few things before we start and Dari will assist you in the ceremony. This is your time, we have all waited a long time for today and now we wait no more.”
Behind the stone pavilion and sheltered in the shade of a beech tree, The Duchess in waiting listened as the Viscount explained the events to take place just moments away. Behind her, the band churned the air with happy melody as a belly dancer in loose undulating black and yellow bumblebee pants and honey breasts tormented the shouting men, amused the giggling children, and lifted an envious passion in the women keeping a protective watch on the stupefied gaze of their men.
Alexandra thought only how his stone stare and meandering voice made harsh love to her eyes and ears. His staccato breath teased her hot cheeks. She toyed with her hair and shifted her stance and prayed the itching burn in her inner thighs would ease and spare her further torture.