His upper body glistened with a film of sweat from the heat. When he moved, sleek muscles flexed on his chest, highlighted by the glow of the fire.
The flames moved up from his boots, burned away his trousers. I watched his face contort in pain.
Still he walked on, now naked as the day he was born. Sweat poured off him, ran in rivulets over his powerful chest, down his back. I caught my breath. Though I’d witnessed his meeting with the old woman many times, I’d never seen him unclothed before. In fact, I’d never seen any grown male stark naked.
I had no idea a man’s body could be so beautiful.
In the glow of the flames, the muscles in his ass and thighs rippled under his skin as he moved. His penis jutted out from his body, thick and long. Swaying from side to side as he strode on. I gasped. Were all men so big?
Though I was a virgin, I knew about sex. I’d heard my female servants giggling and sharing secrets. I had a sudden urge to touch his cock. To run my fingers over the silky-smooth surface and see if there really was a core of steel beneath, like they said. My belly clenched, and I felt a gush between my legs.
I heard an ominous rumbling. The ground shuddered beneath my feet.
And then the earth burst open, spewing a river of fire that crossed his path, flowing between him and the old woman.
He never hesitated, simply strode into the inferno.
The flames swallowed him up. I watched as his body turned black, his beautiful bare skin blistering and cracking apart.
He opened his mouth and I cringed, expecting to hear him scream in agony.
Instead, over the crackling and thrumming of the flames, I heard a terrible roar. Saw with my own eyes brilliant red scales forming where skin had once been, the huge crimson and gold wings unfurling from his scorched back. Watched in horror as he shot a tongue of fire from his mouth. Watched the magnificent young man transform into a beautiful, horrible beast.
A fire-born dragon.
I woke drenched in sweat. I’d had the dream again. More vivid than ever. In the past, I hadn’t seen him naked. I knew I’d never get back to sleep.
My pussy was wet. The tiny bud at the apex of my thighs throbbed as erotic images flooded my brain. The sight of his erect manhood had stirred wicked cravings in me. Dark desires. Hungers I had neither the time nor the ability to satisfy.
I had too many responsibilities. Utmost among them was the responsibility to remain unsullied. Even if my magnificent young man was real and I managed to find him somehow, I could hardly claim to be a virgin queen if I opened my legs to welcome that gorgeous cock. No matter how much I longed to have it fill the emptiness inside me right now.
I sighed and slid one hand between my thighs, stroking my little bud. Panting and squirming as I imagined the thick shaft of the fire-born dragon lord thrusting into me, settingmeon fire.
Knowing all the while even the wicked sensations pouring through my body wouldn’t block out the overwhelming feeling of dread that has been with me for so long.
Chapter One
Melisandre
I claimed the throne three weeks shy of my eighteenth birthday.
Looking back, it seems absurd. A young girl, barely more than a child, seizing the reins of a kingdom. Taking on the responsibility of caring for the well-being, the very lives, of millions.
At the time, I felt I had no choice. My father, King Vidos, had been murdered. I knew it as surely as I know my own name. But I couldn’t prove it.
Sometimes Iknewthings. Simply knew them. Without reading or learning or even hearing of them. Even then, the gift flowed through me. I tried to tell the palace doctors he’d been assassinated, but they wouldn’t listen. They chalked it up to the grief-stricken rantings of a silly young girl.
I don’t know how I would have survived those first weeks – no, months – if not for Antonius. The king’s vizier. A witty, acerbic, crafty old man, I inherited him along with the massive jewel-encrusted crown. The one that gave me a headache every time I had to don it. My father trusted Antonius, turned to him for the two things a king rarely gets – wise counsel unencumbered by a desire for personal gain, and harsh truth. He was the one man in the kingdom who had the courage to tell my father when he’d made a mistake, when he was wrong. I’d heard Antonius call my father a stubborn ass. An idiot. A fool.
He does the same to me now.
The day after the funeral, I lay curled up on my bed in a sodden heap of tears. Grief-stricken. Terrified. Unable to pull myself together enough to leave my bedchamber.
I cringed at the knock on my door.
“Sally Anne, I told you I’m not to be disturbed. Go away.”
The door opened. I snapped at her without lifting my head from where I’d cradled it in my arms. “For the last time, no, I don’t want any breakfast. I don’t need a cool cloth for my forehead. I just need you toleave me alone!”