Summary: What exactly has Kenna gotten herself into with kissing
Diavolos Nevrakis?
Part 1 (PG-13)
Kissing Diavolos turns out to be far more of an addiction than Kenna anticipated. When he opens up to her on the airship to Aurelia, she can’t keep herself from kissing him again, partly because she just really wants to, and partly because she feels herself mourning for the childhood Diavolos had lost and wants to comfort him. She likes seeing him vulnerable and open, wants him to know she’s there for him.
He’s still basically a stranger to her, and yet, in the few days she’s known him, she feels like she’s known him for a lifetime. She looks forward to their banter, their flirtatious conversations, the raw desire she feels whenever he looks at her or touches her discreetly. They’re innocent touches, since they’re rarely unaccompanied – his fingers brushing over her hand, his arm touching hers as they discuss strategy, but they still make her flush and yearn to be alone with him.
Kenna is full of anxious anticipation in the days after returning to Stormholt. She’s torn between wanting more time to prepare, and wanting Azura to arrive already and have this be over with. She has trouble sleeping, finds herself pacing the halls and reviewing plans and strategies over and over again.
She’s awake in the banquet hall late one night shortly after their return, tapping her foot restlessly as she reconsiders the best places to position her soldiers, when Diavolos enters. Her heart starts beating a little faster and her breath catches at the sight of him as he saunters over.
She wishes she could understand this effect he has on her. His presence both calms and reassures her about the upcoming battle, while simultaneously making her feel distracted and unfocused. He’s smug and arrogant much of the time, which she normally detests, but somehow, he wears it well and it just makes her want him more. There’s an undeniable physical attraction to him, but he makes her feel things, want things, that she’s too hesitant to put a name on yet.
Diavolos sits next to her, his chair closer than necessary, his thigh just barely pressed up against hers. She’s hyper aware of him as he starts discussing back up plans and contingencies with her, tries desperately to focus on what he’s saying, but she can’t.
Diavolos gives her that trademark self-assured grin as he watches her. “Are you distracted by something, Kenna?”
“No,” she answers, too quickly, her voice an octave higher than normal.
Damn him for doing this to her.
She berates herself internally. Diavolos is several years older than her, has probably been with many women, and for all she knows, just sees her as another conquest. She’s not going to let it get to that point. Even if she does keep kissing him.
She swallows hard, trying to keep her face neutral as Diavolos turns her chair suddenly so she’s facing him. His dark eyes burn into her.
“Come with me,” he commands, holding his hand out.
“What? No. We need to…” the words die off as he leans in closer, his lips against her ear.
“You’re distracted. Anxious. So am I. Come with me,” he says in a low voice.
Gods help her, she knows this could be stupid, dangerous, that Jackson would probably kill her (or Diavolos), but she can’t resist him. She slides her hand into his and he yanks her up, tugging her off into a dark hallway. He all but slams her against the wall, his tongue and lips on her neck.
“I’ve been wanting to do this all day,” he growls in her ear, nipping at her earlobe. His stubble scratches her, and she shivers at the sensation, tilting her chin up as Diavolos sucks at her skin.
“Don’t leave any marks,” she gasps out.
“Maybe I want to mark you.”
That turns her on more than it should, the idea of having evidence of this encounter with Diavolos Nevrakis there for everyone to see. But she knows the ramifications it would have, so she pushes against his chest.
“No,” she insists.
Diavolos sighs, but moves up to press his mouth against hers, grabbing her hair and pulling it slightly. Kenna loops her arms around his neck, biting his lip and smiling at the groan he emits.
She’s so lost in him, the feel of him, that she doesn’t even register a door slamming just off the corridor until Diavolos pulls away from her, his breathing labored against her.
“What’s-” Kenna is cut off as Diavolos claps a hand over her mouth. She glares at him until she finally notices the sound of footsteps coming toward them, eyes widening as she shoves him away and they rush back to the banquet hall.
Diavolos is smirking and Kenna can’t help but laugh, a little giddy with the rush of kissing him and almost being caught. They manage to compose themselves as Jackson enters the room.
He scowls at them. “Your Majesty. Diavolos.”
“Jackson,” Kenna greets him.
Diavolos slings his arm around the back of her chair and grins at Jackson.
She’s going to kill him.
Jackson narrows his eyes at them. “Are you alright, Queen Kenna?”
“Fine,” she smiles reassuringly. “Just going over some battle plans for the Abanthus troops.”
Jackson looks doubtful as he watches them, fixing Diavolos with a steely glare, but eventually bids Kenna good night and leaves.
“You’re in trouble.” Kenna tries to sound stern as she admonishes Diavolos and pushes his arm away, but damn if he doesn’t make it difficult.
“You have no idea,” Diavolos replies.
~~~~~~~~~~
He really is in trouble, Diavolos muses as he exits his room the following morning. He’d thought about Kenna most of the night, tossing and turning restlessly. This feeling, whatever it is, is foreign to him. He sleeps with women when he needs release, and that’s as far as it goes. He doesn’t lose sleep over them or wonder when he’ll get to touch them again. He definitely doesn’t kiss them in darkened hallways and then go to bed alone.
Diavolos spends the day half-listening to Zenobia complain about the food, the accommodations, how bored she is, while he confers with Luther and meets with the Abanthus troops.
When Diavolos finally retires for the night, he bumps into Kenna, waiting just outside the throne room.
“Your Majesty,” he greets her. Kenna smiles at him, tugging lightly on his sleeve and murmuring his name quietly before he walks off.
She bids good night to Whitlock and Madeline as they exit behind him, then steps closer. He can’t help but notice the slight flush across her face as she instructs him as to the location of the secret passageway near her room. He debates teasing her about her obvious desire for him, but hells, he wants her just as much. That, and he’s a little afraid that she’d just find someone else. He’s seen the way Dom and Annelyse and Val have looked at her.
He meets her in the passageway just after midnight, grateful that it’s away from everyone else as she kisses her way down his neck and tugs at his hair when he pushes her top aside and bites her shoulders. She likes it when he bites, he quickly discovers.
“You’re loud,” he scolds her playfully, as he sinks his teeth in gently just above her clavicle.
“Then quit doing that,” she moans.
“Never.”
He becomes all too familiar with the passageway over the next couple of days, meeting her there in the dead of night and occasionally sneaking away during the day, trying to tamp down whatever these feelings are that have started to consume him. What is it about her? Every time he sees her, kisses her, feels her against him, it gets harder and harder to deny that there isn’t some emotional attachment building. He plays it off as a way to blow off steam, but he’s well aware he’s in denial.
He’s usually the dominant one, the one in control, and Kenna seems mostly content with that. But she gets into an argument with Dom one night, over what he doesn’t know, and she’s angry and uncharacteristically controlling when he goes to her that night.
He asks her what’s wrong, but she gives him a dark look and says, “No talking.”
She’s aggressive, pressing bruising kisses to his mouth, biting his lip, hard, and he almost loses it when she snakes her hand over the front of his pants and squeezes him rhythmically through the fabric.
He curses under his breath and grips her hips tightly. “Stop that,” he groans.
“I don’t want to,” she says defiantly, tugging at the bottom of his shirt and sliding her hand into his waistband and over bare skin. He grabs her wrist and yanks her hand away from him.
“Stop,” he says roughly.
“Why?”
“Because I’m not taking you against a wall in a secret passageway,” he grits out. He wants to take his time with her, when he has her, and he’s certain that he will. He wants to strip her clothes off slowly, taste her, tease her…not this.
Kenna frowns, then looks uncertain. “I just…I thought…”
They’re interrupted, not for the first time, by the sound of footsteps just outside the passageway.
Diavolos sighs in frustration. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
He exits the passageway and returns to his room, to another sleepless night where he drowns in thoughts of Kenna and berates himself for feeling this way. He should just have her and be done with it. But he can’t bring himself to, knows it wouldn’t be that simple.
He learns one morning that Azura had sent assassins after her in the night, that Raydan had learned of Azura’s plans and returned, sneaking in through the secret passageway and into Kenna’s room, and helped fight the assassins off.
The assassins had arrived shortly after Diavolos had left her, which infuriates him and makes him feel almost useless. If he’d only stayed a little longer…his fists clench angrily at the thought of them coming after her, though he knows she’s more than capable of defending herself.
He also feels an unwelcome surge of jealousy that Raydan knows the secret passageway and how to get to Kenna’s room. It makes sense, of course, considering he’s her spymaster and should know the castle inside and out, but it still makes him bitter, wondering about their history together. He hates feeling this way. He doesn’t get jealous. He could go into town now and have his pick of any woman he wants. But he doesn’t want some random woman. He wants Kenna.
~~~~~~~~~~
Kenna isn’t entirely surprised to see Diavolos outside her quarters when she heads to bed for the evening. She’s exhausted after dealing with the assassins the night before, and she really should go to sleep, but he’s not an unwelcome sight. They’re silent, almost in a stare down, until Kenna finally sighs and takes his hand, pulling him into her room and locking the door behind them.
“Are you hurt?” Diavolos asks, sitting on the edge of her desk.
“No,” she replies, leaning against the door and watching as he approaches her.
“Good.” He’s surprisingly gentle as he kisses her, one hand cradling the back of her head, the other wrapping around her lower back.
Kenna sighs, pressing against him and losing herself in the feel of his hands touching her. His eyes are dark, his mouth a tight line when he pulls back. He looks almost angry.
“What’s wrong?” Kenna asks, her hands drifting up his chest.
Diavolos shakes his head. “I’m not in the mood to argue.”
Kenna frowns, narrowing her eyes. “What would we argue about?”
“Nothing,” Diavolos mutters.
“Tell me.”
Diavolos stares down at her. “Why does Raydan know the secret passageway so well?”
Kenna almost laughs, but bites it back. Is he serious?
“Are you…jealous?”
Diavolos yanks her in against him, and she inhales sharply in surprise as he wraps his arms tightly around her. “No,” he whispers hotly. “But I don’t like to share.”
“No?”
Diavolos growls in confirmation. “So tell me, Queen Kenna…”
She’s distracted by his mouth, trailing across her throat, his gentle bites against her neck, the insistent press of his hands sliding down to her hips.
“Are you mine…or his?” Diavolos says the last word like it’s left a bitter taste on his tongue. Kenna feels a brief flicker of irritation at his possessiveness, but his mouth and his hands feel so good against her that it dissipates almost immediately. And, if she’s being honest, she kind of likes it, this self-assured warrior, a Nevrakis, no less, wanting her so badly. She moans as his hips press against hers.
“Say you’re mine, Kenna,” he says against her ear, his low voice sending shivers down her back.
She lifts her chin at him defiantly, challenging him. “Make me,” she whispers.
Diavolos pulls back, studying her, then grins slowly, the slightest hint of danger behind it that makes her whimper. “You sure about that?”
“Yes. Make me yours.”
The words are barely out of her mouth before he’s kissing her roughly, impatiently, pulling at her clothes and tossing them aside as he removes them. He stares at her when she’s bare before him, then walks her backwards to the bed, his hands wandering down her sides and across her thighs. He lifts her on to the bed, pushing her backwards, then starts to remove his clothing, his eyes never leaving hers.
Kenna can’t help but stare as he strips before her. Gods, if she can’t even stop herself from kissing him, how is she ever going to stop wanting him like this?
Diavolos smirks at her. “Do you see something you like, Your Majesty?”
Kenna lets her eyes wander down his body. “I might,” she says teasingly.
Diavolos is suddenly looming over her in the bed, his mouth just inches from hers.
He glides a hand between her legs, his touch light and teasing. “I think you definitely like what you see,” he murmurs, and Kenna feels her face flood with heat.
He rolls them and pulls her upright suddenly so she’s straddling his lap, and she groans as she feels him pressing against her.
“Oh,” she whimpers, unable to keep her hips from thrusting against him.
“I like what I see too,” Diavolos says in a low voice.
Kenna scoots back just slightly and moves a hand down between them, but Diavolos grabs her wrist and pulls it back.
“Are you ever going to let me touch you?” Kenna asks in frustration.
Diavolos smirks. “Patience, Kenna. Soon enough. I’m supposed to be making you mine, remember?”
She leans in and kisses him sweetly, then bites his lip and grins as he jumps. Diavolos frowns and rolls them again so she’s pinned underneath him.
“Maybe I want to make you mine too,” she whispers against him as he starts moving down her body, lips and tongue exploring her bare skin. He stops when he hears her, and she bites her lip, wondering if she’s gone too far.
Diavolos peers up at her, and a smile, a genuine smile, crosses his face. “Wouldn’t take much,” he says, and oh gods, now she’s really done for.
He keeps moving lower, kissing her chest, swirling his tongue over her nipples, kissing down her stomach and across her hips, moving down to her inner thighs and biting her lightly.
She’s a wreck underneath him, pushing her hips towards him and pleading with him to touch her, almost sobbing in frustration.
“I am touching you,” Diavolos points out.
She’d probably laugh or make a sarcastic comment back, but she wants him so badly now that all she can focus on is getting him to touch her where she really wants him, needs him.
He moves back up, kissing her quickly, and she’s tempted to just do this her way to get some relief, when he darts back down her body, his tongue sliding between her folds and his thumb circling her clit.
“Yes,” she moans. He holds her hips down and she squirms against him, wanting to move. He’s relentless, pressing her hips down harder as he slides his tongue into her. She settles for tugging at his hair, which he seems to like, judging by the way he groans and falters against her for a second. She gasps, panting, as he brushes his thumb over her clit and she comes underneath him.
She’s aware of the smug look on his face as he kisses his way back up to her mouth, wedging a thigh in between hers and tangling his hands in her hair.
Kenna smiles at him slowly, then shoves at him to roll him on to his back. He goes willingly, grinning at her. She slides down his body and settles between his legs, palming him and then taking him into her mouth slowly. She’s gratified at the way Diavolos bucks into her, the way he pulls at her hair and the barrage of curse words he lets out, as she sucks and runs her tongue over him. She lightly scrapes her teeth over him and he suddenly pulls her up, hard.
“Kenna,” he grunts. “Kenna, stop, stop.” He yanks her up and she sinks on to him before he can roll them and take control again.
“Gods, Kenna,” Diavolos moans, his hands settling at her hips as they move together. He pulls her down across his chest and rolls them, thrusting into her and biting her shoulder.
“What in three hells have you done to me?” he groans in her ear.
She tightens her legs around him, scratching her nails down his back, drowning in the feel of his skin sliding against hers, his harsh breaths against her neck, the way he trembles just slightly right before he comes.
“I’m safe,” she murmurs in his ear as he goes to pull out of her. He’s thinking, she’s sure, as she is too, about making sure she won’t get pregnant. But she’s been covered since she slept with Dom last year.
Diavolos slides his hand between them and groans as he lets go and Kenna comes, relishing the feel of him as he collapses against her.
When he lifts his head up from her shoulder, he flashes her another genuine smile as he leans in to kiss her.
“Was that your best?” Kenna can’t help but ask, remembering their conversation down in the dungeons.
Diavolos barks out a laugh as he rolls her on top of him. “That depends.”
He nudges her chin up and stares at her. “Say you’re mine, Kenna.”
Oh, the look on his face…
“I’m yours,” she murmurs, pushing herself up to kiss him again, her hands sliding into his hair.
“Are you mine?” she can’t help but ask.
Diavolos runs a hand through her hair, considering her. “If you want me to be.”
Kenna’s a little surprised at how much she does. Of all the lovers she’s been with, Diavolos Nevrakis is the last one she expected to want any sort of commitment from. But there’s something there, something she’s still a little nervous to define. They could both die soon, she knows. She hates the thought of him not knowing that she wants him.
“I do,” she answers finally.
Diavolos grins. “Good.”
He kisses her again before standing and pulling his clothes on. “I should get back to my own room.”
“Mmm,” Kenna agrees, a little reluctantly. She knows he can’t stay.
“Good night, Kenna.” Diavolos kisses her once more before leaving.
~~~~~~~~~~
“Where have you been? We’ve been waiting for hours.”
Diavolos nearly jumps out of his skin at the sound of Zenobia’s voice when he returns to his room. She scowls at him from her seat near the window. Luther is sitting in his desk chair.
“Well?” Zenobia asks, when Diavolos doesn’t respond.
“I was busy,” he answers nonchalantly.
Luther narrows his eyes. “Busy doing what, exactly?”
“Battle preparations,” Diavolos responds easily.
“You’re lying,” Zenobia declares.
Diavolos ignores her as he unbuckles his sword and removes his crown. He can feel his heart pounding, hands shaking just slightly.
Zenobia taps her foot, watching him. “You’ve been sleeping with someone!” she announces gleefully. “But who, who…Annelyse?”
Diavolos can’t help the barking laugh that spills out.
“No, not Annelyse. Definitely not Val,” Zenobia continues. “Hmm…” She gasps suddenly. “Have you been sleeping with Kenna?”
Diavolos keeps his expression carefully neutral. “I haven’t been sleeping with anyone,” he answers calmly, though his heart feels ready to beat out of his chest. “And do you really think Kenna would sleep with a Nevrakis?”
Zenobia pouts. “…no.”
Luther is watching him with interest, his expression suspicious.
“Now, can I get some sleep? We have a battle to prepare for,” Diavolos remarks.
Zenobia huffs as she flounces out of his room.
“I hope you’re not doing something stupid,” Luther says coldly as he walks out, turning back to watch Diavolos’ reaction.
“I’m preparing for a battle. Good night, Father,” Diavolos says coolly, shutting the door behind Luther as he finally leaves.
Oh, hells…