34. incandescence

34

incandescence

Rivian

October 20th

It's been twenty-four hours since my wedding night. Twenty-four hours since I killed my wife and watched my kingdom near the edge of ashes as chaos burned in these walls.

The need to go to Lucynda and crush my body to hers plagued me every single second but I know that she needed her rest and that I would only be using her body as an outlet for my aggression and the betrayal I was feeling all over again. I couldn't do that to her. No matter how much I wanted to blame her for the consequential events that took place I knew that it would only be a copout. I'm a villain, but I won't be another monster in her life. No more than I have to be. Besides, I know Natasha and Troy are taking good care of her as her new life shifts into place.

I can't place what's been happening. My theory is that someone within Valor Cove went rogue and Viktrum is trying everything he can to place blame on me so that he can skate by without conviction or ridicule. But then why would Trav confess? The look of loss of control he held in his eyes indicated that he might have been compelled, which could be from Viktrum's doing as well. Only Royals can compel Royals. That would solidify his alibi and allow the Faction to take the admission from my half-brother, but soon his compulsion would wear off. Does he know who's behind this? Or did he really do this and why?

Suddenly, I'm ripped from my thoughts by the slight echo of what sounds like piano keys playing in the background against my castle walls.

I sit up in the bed of the guest room I had stayed in—leaving Lucynda to remain in the comfort of my room for the beginning of her transition—feeling confused at the sound. No one has played that piano since my mother.

I toss a t-shirt over my head to go with the plaid pajama pants I'm wearing and walk down the hallway to the sound that calls to me like the moon to the stars. The piano filters through the halls flawlessly as I follow the tune it creates. I can nearly make out what is playing, loving the way the notes blend together.

I finally reach the room where the Steinway only what's peeking out through the sheer white curtains in the form of moonlight.

The song choice is exemplary as the tune hums in the empty room. This room was designed only for this one instrument. The walls are a dark gray lined with solid black columns to accentuate the circular shape of the room. The large floor-to-ceiling windows are placed calculatedly in front of where Lucynda faces as she fingers the keys, triggering the hammers to strike the strings that produce the entirely serene sound she's intending.

She is fucking musical.

Her fingers come to a slow creep across the keys indicating the ending of her masterpiece. I had no clue my wife was so talented. And the way she sits perched on the bench as her body relaxes to the song that resounds magically in feathered echoes around the room is ethereal.

I take a few more steps closer, knowing by now that if her transition worked properly, she knows that I'm here.

"Incandescence." I let the title of the song slip off my tongue like a prayer to the sweet sin.

Her fingers pause at the end of her song. I hear her little breaths escape her as I walk closer.

"That was beautiful my-"

"What are you doing here, Rivian?" Her words strike me in an angered way. Exasperation drips from her husky tone as she denies me of my compliment.

I can't say I'm too caught off guard at her vexation, I know what makes her white with anger and it's being left alone.

"Not a very nice way to greet your husband, Lucynda." I decide to approach her in yet another unorthodox way because I do like seeing her skin crawl with irritation.

"I think you have some making up to do in order to deserve nice ," she mocks, and I have to hide my grin as I walk closer to where she sits.

I smirk at her, seeing the deviant of her dark side make an appearance. I am a fool for the way her eyes burn with passion and her nose crinkles in line with her attitude; how her lips pout when she's trying to feign innocence.

Her breathing is noticeable as I see her chest heave in anticipation. The exposed skin from the side of her breasts pebbles as the cool air circulates around her.

Her hair is in one of those twisty side braids I crave to unravel. It falls effortlessly down her back and is adorned by tiny little crystal butterfly clips. Too bad the meaning of the insect is lost as my little butterfly is now a hauntingly beautiful moth. Her death is the signifier and my god is she glowing in her darkened afterlife.

"I apologize if you felt like I neglected you. That was not my intention." I attempt to make amends. I'm destroyed by my craving for this girl, and I have to put an end to the madness that seeps inside me; once again all logic thrown out the window.

"Then what was your intention? To see how much I can handle on my own? To leave me to decide what aches and why? To see how much pain your new wife can take?" She's not furious with me, she's almost teasing me. She finally turns her head, her covering slips a little bit further down her body with her movements as she faces me.

Though she seems perfectly capable of handling the waves of transition, the idea of Cyn trying to fight through the pain on her own actually has one effect. Dismay. The more I look into her silver, hollowed eyes and see the betrayal that she tries to hide caressing her spirit, it makes me feel disconcerted imagining how much pain she had endured when waking up alone once again. Just like she did the day after her father attempted his assault.

"You don't understand the grip you have on me. It's detrimental to my being, Lucynda." It's a risk to admit as much to her. This whole time I've been toying the line of letting her know that I can't let her in the way she desires. But I know that now the memory that kept her captive to her intrusive thoughts is gone, she can finally allow herself to explore lust without the idea of love.

Lucynda stands from the bench, the sheet falling freely from her body exposing just how naked she is underneath.

Jealousy ravages any control I had left against this girl as her captivating body is on full display for me, thinking about how she walked through these halls nearly naked for everyone else to see.

"Kacian?" She calls out to behind me, peering her head over my shoulder to wink at my guard. I look back to see him closing the doors to the room before his steps echo away down the hall.

"Good boy," she whispers, and I’m not fully convinced she meant it for him.

I make a mental note to berate him later for his lack of judgment when it comes to letting my wife do as she pleases, especially if this is how she is going to behave.

Cyn humbly flaunts her hypnotizing body as she walks in my direction to close the gap between us. She lifts her index finger to my chest and traces the collar of my shirt as she taunts me with her sirenic words.

"That's funny, my king." She allows her finger to drift from the collar up to the edge of my chin before dragging it over my ear then to the back of my neck, slowly circling me. "Because just last night as you willingly slid your thick cock into my pussy, you reminded me of just how much you love to break me."

The hunger I feel for her has strengthened at the mere thought of her words and just how fucking intense it felt for me to be inside her.

"So, let's play a little game of show and tell shall we? You show me just how detrimental I am to your being ." She once again throws my own words back at me. "And I'll tell you if you're doing a good job or not." Lucynda now stands back in front of me but she continues her sensual strides away from me, walking back toward the piano.

She turns around when she reaches the bench again. Little baby hairs caress her forehead, and her lashes flutter against her cheeks with so much danger behind her eyes that my cock stirs in my sleep pants.

"So," she breathes. "What the fuck are you waiting for, Husband?"

I curl my fists at my side wanting to do nothing but strangle the little vixen in front of me. But it would be out of pleasure and not truly out of pain, only inflicting little twinges of discomfort to feed into the masochism my sin seems to have developed with her new vampire persona.

"Sit," I demand and she listens, planting her bare ass against the cold, sleek wood of the piano bench. "Face the keys." She spins herself eloquently so that her legs are out in front of her, hands in her lap, back straight, and facial expression unwavering as she waits for my next command.

I make my way to stand behind her. I sense the tension that coils inside her the closer I get until it's almost too much for me to bear as I position my knees against the edge of the seat.

"I didn't know you could play." I lean down and toy with her braid, letting my fingers slide over the smoothness of each thick stand that dips into another. They trail all the way down to the tip of the braid until I reach her spine and start my descent down the seam of her back.

She shivers at my touch and when she doesn't respond to me, I yank her braid back so that her head strains to look up at me from where I stand.

"Time to tell, little one. Your rules, remember?" I know those aren't exactly her rules, but I also happen to know that she'll do as I ask anyways.

She swallows as I release her hair.

"When I was in highschool, I tried everything I could to avoid going home. The music teacher stayed later than all the others to work on choir skits, so she let me hang out in her piano room where I learned to play." Her tone is hushed, but not because she's ashamed of her truth. She actually lets it go quite easily and that makes me very fucking proud of her.

"Self-taught. That's talent, little one." I stand still behind her, not touching her anymore. Not yet. I just watch as the rise and fall of her chest betrays the facade she's putting on for me, trying to feign composure but I know she's damn near lost to the need of bleeding for me again.

"Don't get your hopes up." She chuckles. "I only know that one song."

I lean down to the lobe of her ear, letting my voice feather against her skin in a light ghostly breath. "Let me hear it again."

She acts unbothered by my intrusion, but I hear the little gasp that escapes her.

"Apologize to me," she says nonchalantly. Fuck, when she tells me what to do, my veins burn with desire.

"I already did," I remind her.

"Again." She turns up to look at me as I stand behind her. "Say it again and I'll consider playing for you."

I lean over her, letting my chest hover over her shoulder as I wrap my hand around to the front of her throat to force her head back to me once more, holding her in place so that the top of her head rests against my abdomen. I let my lips come down to hers, barely touching as we face each other nearly upside down.

"I am so fucking sorry for leaving you alone, Lucynda. I'll never do it again." My apology sounds more like I'm begging her for forgiveness instead, but I don't care because in this moment I might be the one calling most of the shots, but she is the one who holds all the power. And it dawns on me that I remain a man of honor, never breaking my word unless it is against my choice.

Lucynda positions herself in front of the piano, fingers placed over the starting keys and her feet reach out for the pedals. She takes a deep breath before closing her eyes and readying herself.

I lean down as the tune commences, hearing the soft flutter of the strings create vibrancy around us.

She doesn't even flinch as I prepare my mouth against her neck. I tease her for only a second with my tongue, tracing the soft flesh from under the shell of her ear down to where her shoulder meets her neck. Everything comes alive inside me as I witness her skin turn to gooseflesh, aroused by the way my presence makes her feel.

I watch as her body starts to flow with the rhythm of her fingers moving delicately about the keys, not wanting to disturb her but also wanting to see just how far I can take this. I lean down to lift her up by her hips, she makes a little gasp as I situate myself underneath her, not a single key played out of tune as I do.

With Lucynda in my lap, she has to adjust a little to make sure she can reach all the working parts of the piano properly, but I don't pay any attention to that as I reach around to her stomach and drift my fingertip from her belly button, up to the sweet rosy peak of her nipple. I run my finger over her breast, light like a feather, before gliding it up to her collar bone, over the flesh of her throat then back down to the other nipple.

She makes a small movement against me and a little sound escapes her mouth as she continues to play the piece. I decide to be a little bit more aggressive with my approach, seeing as she's trying her best to hold up against my light touches. I take one of her breasts into my hand, allowing myself to pinch her nipple between my thumb and index finger while my other hand finds the sweet spot between her legs.

Her breath hitches when my finger circles her clit, I can already feel just how wet she is for me.

"Something you want to tell me, little one?" I don't want the game to get lost on us, I want her to tell me exactly how I make her feel.

I lean my head to see if I can make out an expression on her face, only to see her biting her lips and her eyes are closed.

I pick up my pace on her clit, still kneading her breast in the palm of my hand. My dick aches for her as she absentmindedly grinds her ass into me; yet her skill to play the song that echoes around us is flawless as she multitasks.

"Do you like this?" I ask her and she simply nods as she lets out a little whimper of pleasure.

"How about this?" I move my hand down a bit to allow myself to sink my middle finger into her core. I place my palm calculatingly over her clit to alleviate the ache I know she's feeling.

"Yes." Her breathless admission does nothing to settle the anguish I feel as I think about how I'm going to make her sing for me while she focuses on playing her own musical piece.

I quicken my thrusts, bringing my mouth in to clamp my teeth down onto the back of her shoulder—not enough to draw blood but enough to leave a mark.

"Oh, fuck," she cries, and she almost loses focus.

"Don't you dare fucking stop," I warn her.

She composes herself as I pull out of her to swipe her wetness through her slit and up to her clit, giving it a little bit of my attention before I push my finger back inside of her.

"Rivian," she breathes, and I can tell she's starting to get too dazed to keep playing but I force her to keep going.

She's about to reach the height of the song and I know she wants to come, but I love to feel her squirm against me as I whisper in her ear before kissing down her spine.

"Am I doing good enough for you?" I ask, keeping up with the little game she started. She simply nods as she holds her bottom lip between her teeth.

"Tell me what you want, little one?" I rub the pad of thumb along her nipple; my other hand grinds into her pussy as she presses into me, begging for more.

"I want to come," she admits in a throaty gasp, her voice thick with so much greed that it drives me to madness.

I start to finger fuck her into a frenzy, quickening the tempo of my thrusts as she builds to the apex of the music she's playing. I press my palm a little deeper to provide her some friction to her clit while I curl my finger inside of her to bring her to the point of pleasure that I so desperately crave to drain from her.

"Fuck," her moans escape her in a crescendo as she forces herself to push through the climax of the song simultaneously. "Rivian!" Her cry for my name sounds like a sinful saying falling from a nun's mouth. My wife breaks into a euphoric harmony as she comes in my hand along the bright, charming sound of the pinnacle that she rips from the black and white keys beneath her fingers.

The echoes of the sweet symphony shatter against the walls of our confines and enrapture me to the point of unraveling the sutures of my control, causing me to feel hunger as my queen crumbles in my hands.

She rides out her waves, her fingers barely touching the keys of the piano as the song also fades out against her soft whimpers. The finale to the perfect show as her pleasure unfurls before me.

"You want to know one thing that I savor the most about you, my sweet sin?" I let my husky tone whisper over her neck as she heaves lustful pants of air to fill her lungs. "It's that you are devastatingly incandescent ."

Emanating light as a result of being heated; an angel against the depths of Hell.

Passionate; full of powerful emotions.

She's a bright soul who was carved from the dark, only wanting to give more than she wants to take with the hope that someone will accept her for who she is. Just like a bright white light in the dead of dark, only receiving a simple spark of energy to power an entire room with luminescence. Yes, I got all of that while making her come. While she played the only song she cared to learn in the midst of the untimely abuse she had to endure. Because we are connected now. The tether is tied and I can't control or subdue the feeling that manifests and attracts me like a bee to nectar, telling me that I no longer want to see her so dejected or unhappy.

Granted, she's emerging from her afterlife as a fully capable woman with the wiped memory of the tragic moment that changed her life forever. I know she will accept me for what I have to give, but now, I fucking want more.

She does not feign her strength and though her walls are down, she cannot rid of who she truly is inside. Despite being born in blood, Lucynda Draven Duquesne is exceptionally and admirably good.

Maybe I was wrong to lead her to this life with the promise of vengeance, as such I seek. Maybe I assumed she'd grown from the dark and was eager to emit the evidence of her demise. I know it wasn't her whole truth when I led her astray, but I made her believe it was all she was capable of. I made her believe it was what she craved most because it's what I was craving for myself even knowing that she was my anima vinculum . I didn't want to admit that had I just accepted her for what she was and allowed her to speak her own truth in all of this, reluctance to deny her would evade me and I would subject myself to falling for her.

But it might be too late.

Though I still fight the battle of fulfilling the visceral need that now resounds in my chest like thunder cracking through the sky, or simply denying myself the luxury because I know the ending will only lead to ruin for the both of us.

What is this girl doing to me?

Just as the thought crosses my mind, Lucynda removes herself from my lap, a fervent flush coating her pretty pale skin in tones of pink as her heavy-with-lust eyes bore into mine.

"Thank you, my king," she says as she reaches her hands out for mine and gestures to me to stand up in front of her. "But if that's how you plan to prove to me that breaking me is your favorite pastime, I'm afraid it wasn't good enough." Cynical carnality exudes from her icy gaze as her sensually sarcastic tone hovers between us.

She reaches for my pants and slides them down my thighs, taking my underwear with them and revealing my thick erection.

The vulnerability that briefly washes over me isn't lost as the brush of her fingertips whispering against my skin sends my bloodlust into a panic.

Lucynda mimics the motion of my pants as she herself lowers down to her knees like the sinner that she is, eager for penance.

"But I do know of one other way you can attempt to break me, Husband." Her words haunt me causing rapacity to torment me.

I place two fingers under her chin to tip her head up to me while she speaks, feeling lost in the way her siren-tone hypnotizes me.

"Choke me." Two little words that do a whole lot of damage to the single thread holding together my will not to bend for this girl. I watch my wife spread her legs under me, the glisten of her arousal still present between her thighs.

She parts her plump lips for me as she digs her fingertips into the back of my thighs and pulls me into her, allowing the tip of my aching cock to skate over her bottom lip.

Fuck, she is driving me crazy, and that's when I realize that her sex drive might be extremely high due to her magnetized senses from her transition along with the persistant attitude she brought to the table tonight. But at this point, I'm too fucking gone in the sound of her voice and the light touches her skin on mine to give a damn.

"Break me, Rivian." The lust that bleeds from her tone sends me into a dizzy spell of needing her so intensely that I grip the back of her head, tangling my fingers into her now messy braid and I thrust my dick past her lips.

This is her, in all her sinful glory. Devastating; she's inviting me to play whatever game she’s attempting. It's comical, but enticing. And maybe she knows that she's playing devil's advocate here. Maybe she likes it. Because I am the fucking devil.

If she wants me to break her, I will break her.