Siren's Seduction - Erotic Novelette (Editing)

CHAPTER ONE

“Mistress?” a voice probed, brushing against the blackness, pulling her away from blissful oblivion. Liana stirred, muttering drearily. A hand touched her shoulder, shaking away the cobwebs of sleep.

“Mistress?” the voice insisted, reeling her from nothingness. Liana’s eyes fluttered open, hazy from sleep. She blinked, the familiar face of her maidservant coming into view.

“Sorry to wake you, Mistress,” she said, smiling gently, “but I’m afraid you’ll be late for the burial if we don’t get you ready."

“Burial?” Liana muttered, clutching at her head. She rubbed at her temples, trying to clear her clouded thoughts.

That’s right, she remembered. My mother is dead.

The unwanted memory was like a dagger in her chest, grinding her heart to a mush of flesh and blood and searing agony.

She blinked away tears, offering her maidservant a smile.

“Thank you for waking me, Mag,” Liana whispered, sitting upright. She pushed her furs away, a chill creeping along her exposed skin.

Mag nodded.

“I’ll have breakfast brought up to you,” she said, standing.

“No, thank you,” Liana stopped her.
The maidservant halted midstep, cocking an eyebrow in question.

“I’m afraid I don’t have much of an apatite,” she muttered, staring down at her hands.

Mag sighed, coming to stand beside her.

“Oh, Liana,” she cooed, sitting beside her. She took her in her arms, rocking her back and forth. Liana would never allow any of the other servants to behave with such familiarity, but Mag had been with her for as long as she could remember.

She had been the one to find her, crying on an abandoned beach. Cold and naked. So unbearably alone. She kissed Liana’s forehead, taking hold of her hands.

“I’ve had a bath drawn,” she said. “Come along.”

Liana didn’t protest as she was pulled from bed, and guided to a polished tub. Mag undressed her, helping her into the tub. Liana sighed, the scent of rose petals curling around her as she was immersed beneath the oiled waters. Mag set to work on scrubbing her feet, chattering about nothing in particular, like she was prone to do when she was nervous. Liana didn’t speak; only offered the occasional nod. The maidservant moved behind her, running a scented washcloth over her shoulders and back.

She stopped.

“What on earth?” Mag gasped.

“What?” Liana questioned. She turned her head to the side, and frowned. Lines of purple bruises stained her pale flesh, trailing from her collarbone down to her breasts.

Liana closed her eyes, taking a deep breath.

“I should like to be alone for a bit,” she said, dismissing the maidservant.

Mag stuttered, setting the washcloth aside.

“Yes, Mistress,” she mumbled, darting from the room, closing the doors behind her.

Liana ran her fingers along the love bites, slowly tracing the marks.

His marks.

A part of her had wanted to forget the stranger. The other, bigger part of her, wanted nothing more than to see him again. He had made her forget about the pain, replaced it with unimaginable pleasure - even if it had been for just a little while. She needed that comfort, now more than ever.

Liana blinked, taking a deep breath in an attempt to steady herself. She focused on the markings the man’s lips had made on her skin, following the line down to her breast. The unbridled thought of his fingers, of his warm, moist tongue drawing fire over her flesh, made Liana’s womb clench with the remembrance of ecstasy.

She closed her eyes, imagining him. Imagining his mouth on hers. His fingers cupping her knee, stroking her thighs, sinking deep inside of her. She mimicked him, her own hand moving lower, past her navel, touching her swollen lips...

Liana jumped, clambering from the bathtub. She wrapped a towel around herself, shivering as her feet made contact with the cold floor.

How can I think of such things? she berated herself. Now?! On the day of Mother’s burial?
She frowned at herself in the mirror, combing her fingers through her hair. Only, it wasn’t her fingers. It was his. Stroking her hair, running over the sensitive skin of her neck. Liana closed her eyes, leaning into the solid warmth of his chest. He stood behind her, humming softly as he kissed her ear; her shoulder; the sensitive nape of her neck.

“Liana,” he whispered.

Her eyes snapped open, and she realized she was alone. Entirely, achingly alone.

Liana cried out, clutching at her head as she fell to her knees. She didn’t have the strength to pull herself up, couldn’t do anything but wrap her arms around herself.

She hummed softly. Hummed her mother’s song, and imagined it was him. It was his strong arms around her, steadying her, his voice whispering sweet words of reassurance.

For a second - just a second - it was.