Chapter 44: Roxanne

He flew me back to his castle and deposited me in my room without comment to my statement.
I want him. I have for days. My heartbeat accelerates and warmth floods me whenever he comes near. And when he touches me... my body burns. The damn dragon knows this too. I see it in his eyes-a flash of silver that turns me into a quivering mess.
I think of the unclaimed brides. When they are not chosen, most willingly give up their virginity the night of the claiming. It's a huge event in the village, or so I've been told. Thinking I would kill the dragon, I planned to die a virgin. If not by the hand of the dragon, the people of my village would have no choice but to do it themselves. This would be their only chance to reduce the vengeance from the other dragons.
Now, my virginity is the last thing I want.
He's incredibly arrogant and at the same time, absolute perfection. He knows it and I feel drab in comparison. Then his blue eyes spark with silver light as he looks at me. His desire ignites my soul and his gaze says he wants me regardless of my imperfections. At night, I dream he holds me in his arms and we make slow, tender love. I run my fingers across my skin, but it's his hands I want touching me. These feelings are quite frustrating because my imagination can only do so much. I have no idea what my body needs. To touch myself in certain places has been forbidden to me since I was a child. Those rules continue to hold me back. I am the bride of a dragon and his to do with as he pleases. With only a very light stroke, he ignites a heat between my thighs. His touch appears casual, but it's not. Each brush against me is calculated so my heart races and shivers run across my skin. Then his lips travel my neck and tops of my breasts. My breath expels in small gasps and the secret place between my legs longs for more. I have no control over myself. More than anything, I truly want to beg.
Then he whispers something about fucking and begging. My clearer thoughts come back into focus. He has no idea that the word he uses disgruntles me so. I've heard the village boys say it when they didn't know I was around. I think of the word as something dirty that the brides were expressly forbidden to do, or even speak of. I want my union with the dragon to be extraordinary. It was Acasia's story that started me on the path I'm now on, but it's the dragon who has completely captivated me. He can be good and kind, irritating and mean. But most of all, he's... special. Fucking is not special in my mind.
As the days pass, I grow resentful and even more confused. He locks me in my room each night and I sleep alone. It's the loneliest I've ever been. In my village, I ran free for hours through the forest. Now, I'm trapped within these walls and I hate it.
Then today in the water, he kissed my lips for the first time. His taste intoxicated me and my head went dizzy. The minute his mouth pressed against mine, I knew. I knew I would beg. On claiming day when I tried to kill him, I had no intention of begging for my life. Begging for his body is somehow worse and goes against everything I stand for. Even so, I will give in.
Each night after the door to my room is barred seems endless with so many thoughts keeping me from sleep. I think about the years ahead of me. I will never see my parents again and the sadness is a dull ache. As the claimed bride, at least I know they will be cared for. But I will grow old and the dragon will stay as he is now. This thought terrifies me.
My parents love one another. My mother could have left my father and found another man to support us when he was injured. She refused. I remember how beautiful she was back then. A hard life of doing my father's work as well as her own makes her appear older than she is. Then she smiles at my father and the years fall away.
I want that kind of love. I can't fool myself, though. Two haggard humans a few years apart in age are one thing-fifty years between a human and a dragon completely different once I'm wrinkled and gray. How did his previous brides stand it? I wonder if they became a burden to him.
Then there's the fact that he won't use my name. For this reason, I refuse to use his. I sometimes use the term 'sir' when we train. My go-to is simply 'dragon'. I can't help a small sigh escaping as I think of our daily training sessions. He never wears a shirt. His chest and arms are magnificent as he wields a sword. It's quite hard to concentrate while his muscles flex and ripple with each movement. I've had several near-fatal accidents when my daydreams take me away from the sword play. He gets so angry even though it's entirely his fault.
Mostly, I'm sick of the constant inner turmoil that eats me alive. I know I will give in and lose his game. It's just a matter of time.
A knock at the door startles me. The man I've been mooning over enters. He carries a dinner tray and I'm disappointed that I will not be visiting his rooms. His outer rooms are covered in the most glorious works of art, sparkling jewels, and pieces of gold finery. The mass number of items intrigues me greatly. But this isn't the reason I long to enjoy our meal there. It's in those rooms that he touches me and my loneliness recedes. Only once has he touched me here in my rooms and that was the first day. Why is he doing this to me today of all days?
He doesn't speak as he rests the tray on the table and returns to the door. He lifts something from outside and I gasp when I see it. My very own halberd. My heart races and I practically jump from foot to foot at the sight. I must fight not to run over and grab it.
He watches me with knowing eyes and a slight grin on his lips. "It will fit your hand perfectly and we will begin training with it tomorrow." He rests it on the table by the tray without taking his gaze from mine. "Come here, bride." I don't hesitate. I walk the few steps separating us. "Turn around," he says in a low voice that sends chills through me.
I'm now wearing the first training outfit he gave me. He's dressed in the pants he calls jeans. No shirt and his hair is hanging free. I turn and his hands go immediately to my hips. My breath hitches as he leans in and breathes along the skin from my shoulder to my neck. Without touching anything but my hips, his lips, a hair's breadth from my skin, move up to my ear and his whisper makes me feel faint, "I want you to beg."
He releases me and leaves the room. For the first time, he doesn't bar the door or even close it. I take several deep breaths and finally look beneath the napkin that covers the food tray. It's dinner for one.
We are both so stubborn. Eating is one of his rules, so I eat. I'm not hungry and only manage half the food before pushing it away. He wants me to beg. Nothing has changed. Without his touch to tempt me, I don't honestly know if I can. I shower and put on one of the sheer sleeping gowns provided by the dragon. I blow out the single candle on the stand by my bed and lie down. The isolation brings me close to tears. Why is he doing this?
Moonlight shines through the open door and I fall asleep wondering if the dragon will ever care about me-my emotional needs as well as physical. I am nothing more than his possession and it hurts.
I wake from a dream. His hands were gliding over my flesh and burning a trail so hot I'm surprised my skin doesn't melt from my bones. It's only a dream because the dragon isn't here. I'm alone. I have no idea what time it is. I need him. It's an aching pulse so strong I can no longer deny myself.
I light the candle and carry it to the tower stairs. I've never walked this path alone. The dragon has always been with me. Each step is mental agony. I'm surrendering and allowing my needs to carry me to his room. This is wrong and I know I will always regret that I was not strong enough to win this battle of wills. Is this how all the brides feel? Are the dragons so irresistible that we are doomed to bend to their will from the very first time we see them? That's how I feel. I am giving up another freedom. It doesn't matter that he locks me in a small room each night-I had freedom to control my thoughts. The freedom to say no.
I'm no longer winded from climbing hundreds of stairs, but tonight, I'm having trouble catching my breath. The dragon wins. I'm just as every other claiming bride. I couldn't kill him, lost all desire to kill him, and now he will possess my body and control everything.