Mad, Bad & Dangerous

As she passed the small door leading to the minstrel’s gallery, it opened and a dozen men and women in clothes much too expensive for them trooped out. Nuala strikes again, Kett thought. She probably saw their regular performance outfits and cried. How her stepmother had any money left was beyond Kett.

Oh yes. Her brother was the king. And it wouldn’t really surprise Kett if her father was doing a little light highwaymanning on the side for fun.

Making a quick decision, she ducked through the little door and up the stairs to the rather spacious balcony, now filled with cellos and drums and other things she didn’t really understand.

Up here it was cooler, which made no sense until she saw the open window high in the corner. It was also quieter and, praise gods, significantly emptier. Kett leaned against the wall, far back in the alcove, and massaged her temples.

How did I do this? she wondered. How did I deal with the crowds, the people, the noise? Time was, she’d spent every night in taverns far busier and smellier than this ballroom, and she’d loved it.

Hadn’t she?

I need a smoke, she thought, depressed, and wondered if Nuala would have her shot for lighting up in the ballroom. Then she remembered her cigars were in her room, and scowled.

Moving forward, she leaned over the balustrade to survey the room below. If she didn’t see someone she knew and liked in the next five minutes, she was returning to her room. Since she only knew about a dozen people likely to be invited, and liked less than half of them, Kett didn’t figure she was going to have to stay long.

Then footsteps sounded behind her and she turned, expecting to see the musicians but finding Bael instead, wearing something dark and tailored that made him look far more civilized than she knew he was.

“That,” he said, staring at her, “is a great dress.”

Kett looked down at it doubtfully. “It’s not really…” She waved her hand. “Me.”

“No, it isn’t.” Bael stepped toward her, and he smelled fantastic. “It doesn’t do you justice.”

Kett opened her mouth to tell him he was talking bullshit, but he ran his finger along her exposed collarbone and she lost her breath.

“Lady Kett Almet-Cooper of Nirya?” he asked, and she scowled. “That’s a lot of names.”

Actually, the emcee had-mercifully-missed a couple. “Kett Almet does me fine,” she said.

“Does me fine too,” Bael said, stroking the pulse in her neck.

“Funny,” she tried to snap, but it came out as a squeak.

“You look incredible,” he said, his eyes dark on hers.

“I thought I looked very credible,” she breathed.

“Nope. I’m finding you hard to believe,” Bael said, skimming his hand down her arm, over her bare back and pulling her closer to him. “I think I need to check that you’re real.”

“Okay, that’s a terrible line,” Kett said, and he grinned.

“Did it work?”

“No.” Yes.

His lips brushed hers. “Liar.”

The soft, silky fabric of his suit whispered against her skin, and Kett found herself winding her arms around his neck just to feel more of it. What have I been missing? she wondered, as Bael leaned in and licked her collarbone. All this silk, it’s amazing. I’ve never been turned on by fabric before.

But then, she’d never necked with someone while wearing a ball gown before, either.

He backed her against the balustrade and kissed her, running his hands over her bare back, and Kett experienced for the first time the whisper of silk over hardened nipples. She thrust out her breasts, trying to get more of that lovely soft slide of fabric, pushing herself against Bael and loving the pressure of his hard chest through the delicate silk.

“I could fuck you right here,” Bael said against her mouth, and Kett was hit with a rush of lust so strong she had to hold on to him to keep from toppling backward over the balustrade.

“I could let you,” she whispered back, and he pulled back half an inch and looked at her, his eyes really dark.

“Don’t say that unless you mean it,” he said, his hand covering her breast, and the heat of it felt so good Kett closed her eyes.

“I mean it,” she said, and Bael groaned and turned her around in his arms, pressed her against the balustrade and leaned into her from behind. The rail was waist-high, standing on struts so thickly woven with ivy and ribbons and moving flowers that from the ballroom floor, no one could see through it.

So no one could see as Bael slid his hand under the silk at her side and caressed her stomach, dipping lower with each stroke but not quite touching the curls Kett knew were already wet. His lips were hot on her neck, his free hand brushing aside tendrils of hair as he found the spot below her jaw that made her gasp and arch her back. And as she did, she felt his erection pressing against her, thick and hard between her buttocks.

Her breath came faster. “Bael,” she gasped, and tried to move his hand lower, where she needed it.

But he pushed her fingers back to the balustrade, murmuring in her ear, “Hold on, sweetheart. If anyone looks up they’ll just see us enjoying the view.”

All those people down there. For some reason that made Kett even hotter, and she sucked in a breath, her hands clutching the marble of the balcony. When Bael’s fingers finally slipped between her legs, she bit her lip to stifle a cry.

“If anyone looks up,” she panted, “they’re going to see me really enjoying the view.”

Bael’s chuckle vibrated through her, and her head rolled back to give him better access to her neck. His clever fingers slid between her slippery folds, stroking and rubbing, just the right kind of pressure to make her gasp and push her hips back against him. His other hand rested on hers, fingers entwined as she gripped the cool marble and writhed, eyes half-closed. His fingers circled her clit, stroked gently on either side then pressed down on it, and Kett whimpered.

“That’s it,” Bael whispered. “Come for me, Kett.”

Her fingers curled into her palm, nails digging in. Stars danced before her eyes and her breath caught in her throat as the pressure built higher and higher…

“I’m going to fuck you so hard,” Bael said, and she broke, convulsing in his arms, letting out a cry he stifled with his own mouth. His fingers kept on caressing her, his free arm wrapping around her waist to hold her steady as she fell apart, and Kett abandoned the balustrade to cling to him, his body rock-solid against her back.

When she finally came back down to earth, she felt him moving behind her, lifting her skirt, freeing himself, and she braced her hands on the balcony again, waiting for him to fill her up, wanting to be taken hard and fast up here, in public, where anyone could see-

Someone screamed outside, the sound coming in through the high window, and Kett’s head snapped in that direction.

“Your parents keep peacocks?” Bael asked, his voice tense.

“No,” Kett said, and she glanced back at him. He was staring at the window too. Not for the first time since she’d woken up in that cave, Kett wished she could tune into the supersonic hearing or night vision her various shapes allowed her.

“It’ll just be-” Bael began, and then the scream came again, a woman crying “No!”, and Kett wanted to kill someone.

***

The ballroom below was so thick with noise, no one else would have heard the scream.

“Hell,” Kett said, and twisted away from Bael, yanking down her skirt and turning to the stairs. But the minstrels, gods damn them, chose that minute to come back up, all of them, choking the staircase. “Damn and bloody fuck,” Kett snapped, as a rather cruel male laugh sounded from outside.

“What are you-” Bael began, as Kett grabbed the railing, fighting off the moving vitalweed, and judged the