101: The Late Visitor

The Late Visitor

Hearing Dante's words against the beating of her heart, Anastasia nervously swallowed as she attempted to grasp and hold onto her resolve before she lost herself in the moment. Whoever claimed that Prince Dante had no experience with women had to be thrown into the sea for spreading such falsehoods! 

Her throat felt parched, and she felt hot. She averted her gaze, and her eyes fell on the glass of water on the bedside table. 

"Thirsty?" Dante asked her before he grabbed hold of the glass. 

However, when Anastasia reached out to take it, he pulled it away from her grasp, and her eyes met his red ones. There was something unruly in his eyes that looked at her like a predator biding his time, as if it were waiting to find the perfect moment to pounce. 

"Dante," Anastasia asked for the water. Dante felt slightly amused that she used his name whenever she wanted to appease him, but he didn't immediately hand her the glass. 

Instead, Anastasia watched as he raised the glass to his lips and took a mouthful of the water. Her feeble attempt to distract and change the subject failed, and the butterfly in her stomach returned, anxiously fluttering as he leaned towards her and angled his face in front of hers. Hesitantly, she brought her lips closer to his before parting them. 

Soon, she was able to drink the water from Dante's lips, and when she was done taking a sip, a few drops of water spilt from the corner of her mouth. She gulped it down, becoming aware of how much saltwater she had consumed earlier. 

"More?" he asked, tilting his head slightly.

Anastasia couldn't shake the feeling that there was something different about Dante tonight, and it would be a lie if she said it didn't daunt her. And it wasn't just his piercing red eyes, which smouldered as he gazed at her, searing her from within when she vowed not to be affected. She found herself saying, 

  "You told me you would wait." 

"In what regard?" Dante asked her, entranced by her flustered expression. He then said, "We did agree that we would wait for your feelings to catch up, but also that I would help you get there, didn't we?" 

As Dante brought the glass back to his lips to take another sip of the water, she voiced her concern, saying, 

"If we continue, I would be no different from any other courtesan." 

Anastasia saw him gulp down the water he had sipped. She didn't want to upset him because she was truly grateful towards him for repeatedly saving her, and a slight frown marred her forehead. But despite her concern, Dante was far from upset as he continued to gaze at her intently. He enjoyed seeing her stand her ground, a stark contrast to the other women who readily complied, even though he knew her resolve would ultimately be futile. But she didn't need to know that.

"Have faith in my reputation of not taking a woman. And know that you aren't like the others, which is why we are here," Dante said as he placed the glass to the side. When he turned towards her, he gently placed his hand on her chest, just above her beating heart. He stated with his low, velvety voice, "It is beginning. You have already started to react to me, and though we could debate it, I doubt it is necessary."

Anastasia didn't refute his words, as her senses had turned weak, and she wondered if the blow to her head had been harder than she thought. Despite her attempts to guard her heart, Dante's actions and words ran parallel, weakening her lifelong resolve. 

"Why deny what you are starting to feel, Anastasia, when it's evident you are being affected by it?" 

"…!" 

Anastasia gasped when Dante's hand moved lower, brushing against the side of her breast while he maintained eye contact. Nervously, she placed her free hand on his chest, feeling the smooth fabric that felt like water beneath her touch and breathed out, "Anyone can be… affected by what you just did."

"I didn't know you were susceptible to seduction."

"I am not," Anastasia denied, her cheeks flushing pink and replying just as Dante had anticipated her to, and one side of his lips curled up. He had her exactly where he wanted. 

Dante knew he wasn't playing fair, but an intense urge to possess her had taken over him, and his earlier patience had vanished the moment he had pulled her from the sea.

"Then there's nothing for you to worry about," Dante's face angled to hers, and he whispered, "Because you aren't affected by it."

Anastasia felt Dante's words reverberate against her sensitive, trembling lips. She then felt him playfully brush his lips against hers, and her heels dug deeper into the surface of the bed in response. 

"Still nothing, right?" Dante inquired between the tender brushes, and for Anastasia, each gentle caress served as a kindling that ignited the fire within her. 

The man knew what he was doing! On the other hand, the doors to pleasure had only just opened to Anastasia, and her body betrayed her as it responded to Dante's subtle yet captivating actions, from his mesmerising gaze to his enticing lips and the words he softly whispered to her. 

Dante asked her, "Apart from what you would have learned in the last few days at the Paradise Tower, were you taught anything else?" 

"Three days is too short to learn anything," Anastasia replied, relieved that, at least for now, she wasn't forced to pleasure men. She said, "One of them offered to teach me—"

"I will teach you everything that you need to know. Don't seek guidance from anyone else, ever," Dante's words were firm, as he didn't want to share Anastasia with anyone, even with another woman, when it came to anything remotely sexual or any form of physical touch. 

New and unfamiliar thoughts began seeping into Dante's mind, and they were things he had never considered with any other woman before. Some were good, some were dark and unsettling, and he could tell it had something to do with the demon nature within him, and Anastasia had fallen prey to it. The desire to possess her completely took hold of him, to the point where he wanted to sink his teeth and nails into her, wanting to imprint himself so deeply onto her that even if she thought of escaping, he would haunt her every thought. 

And as the idea of her leaving the palace crossed his mind, his eyes darkened. Unaware of Dante's inner thoughts, Anastasia noticed a change in his gaze as slits appeared in his eyes. Before she could gauge what had caused the shift in his mood, in the blink of an eye, she found her back pressed against the surface of the bed, with him positioned above her.

Anastasia's heart shuddered at the sudden movement, and she felt Dante's breath hovering against her lips as they stared at each other. 

"You have stalled long enough, my rabbit… It is time for you to be devoured," Dante declared, his eyes fierce as his lips descended on hers. 

As her hands moved to rest on his chest, he swiftly caught them before he pressed them against the bed, pinning them on either side of her head, holding her captive. The sensation sent a shiver coursing through her body, leaving her uncertain whether it was born out of fear or desire. 

As Dante's lips met hers, Anastasia felt a sudden electrifying sensation through her body, reminiscent of the lightning she remembered from childhood. Compared to the last kiss, this one was demanding, and Dante showed no restraint in taking her. She felt him suck and passionately kiss her lips, and in the next second, he nipped at her bottom lip, eliciting a moan from her.

The little nip left the taste of her blood on his tongue, and he couldn't help but lick his lips, savouring the taste of it. 

When Dante pulled away from her lips, Anastasia was greeted by the sight of his elongated canines. He gazed at her with fascination, and a soft moan escaped her lips when his knee, placed between her legs, touched the sweet spot over her dress. 

"Dante…" Breathless, Anastasia uttered his name. The resolve she held so tightly in her mind began to waver and slip away, replaced by a sense of weightlessness, and a growing sense of urgency began to stir in the lower half of her body. 

Dante let go of her left hand and gently ran his thumb over her tender lip as he confessed, "You are driving me insane."

Anastasia didn't know who was driving whom crazy. 

As he caressed her lips, he gently slipped his thumb inside her mouth, parting her lips, and then seamlessly replaced his thumb with his own lips. His tongue entered her sweet mouth, rubbing her tongue in an erotic dance. This elicited another moan, each one causing Dante's heart to pound harder, and he deepened the kiss in response.

Dante proceeded to leave a trail of kisses across her jawline, leaving Anastasia breathless, her chest heaving rapidly, and her vision blurry. 

As her vision cleared, she felt him caress her cheek, and his tenderness warmed her amidst the coldness of the palace that made her feel lonely. Her face felt warmer than just a few moments before, and she whispered, "You stole my breath." 

A smile attempted to break through Dante's serious expression, amused that her mind had wandered to the same place as his. She was precious, he thought to himself, and then said, 

"Those breaths are mine now. It was only right that I take them for the rest of our lives." 

As Dante's handsome face hovered above her, the little butterfly attempted to take flight again, fluttering its wings, but Anastasia quickly shooed it away. She turned her gaze to the locked door. He wasn't wrong, she thought to herself. He was affecting her, and she realised he was the only one she could count on in this palace to keep her neck intact. But accepting him would mean opening her heart to something she had closed off before. 

Upon hearing Anastasia's heart skip a beat, Dante leaned forward and surprised her by placing his forehead against hers. 

"Dante," Anastasia called his name, noticing his eyes were closed. 

"Yes?" Dante replied as he attempted to rein in his turbulent emotions, which had reached a high he was trying to come down from. 

"Please don't forget your word to me," Anastasia reminded him, hoping that despite his courtship and efforts to win her over, she didn't want to be forced into anything she didn't want. 

Dante opened his eyes and noticed the worry in Anastasia's brown eyes. There was a quiet plea there. 

After what happened today, with her almost dying and Maxwell trying to get closer to her, Dante did the first thing he believed was right. And that was to protect her, which he could once she belonged to him. He had told her he wouldn't force her, but he had, and before that, his grandmother had already sent out a letter to the Elders, making her officially his. 

Did he feel guilty? Not one bit. He didn't mind breaking his word if he could protect her and keep her safe. But would she be able to digest it? Where he and his family had stripped her of her right to choose since she had stepped foot in the place. He wasn't unaware that if she had never been brought to the palace, she would have never gone through the troubles like being whipped in public or drowning in the sea. 

Anastasia wondered what Dante was thinking about before they heard someone knocking on the door, and they turned to look at it before he moved away from her. He adjusted her dress and pulled up the bedsheet that had slid down before opening the door. 

Dante opened the door, and there stood Aziel, who offered him a bow.

"My apologies for disturbing you, Prince Dante, but the Mother Queen was wondering if you would be joining the interrogation in the dungeon?" Aziel asked, while not looking inside to see if the woman was awake. 

Dante nodded, as they had left both the accused and the culprit alone in the dungeon since this morning so that everyone could take some time to prepare, as the prisoners weren't just anybody, but the king's advisor and the queen. 

Another servant came to the front of the room and announced, "Sire, a red oak carriage has arrived at the front of the palace."

"Who is it?" Dante asked, and the servant shook his head. 

"The guards didn't find anyone inside it," the servant responded. 

"Who could have possibly arrived in a red oak carriage?" Aziel murmured in question.  2

Anastasia, who had sat upright on the bed, saw Dante turn to look at her, and he said, "I will be back in some time. In the meantime, you can have your meal."

"Wait!" Anastasia stopped him before he departed, and she asked, "May I request for Theresa's company?" 

Dante turned to look at Aziel, who quietly looked back at the prince as if waiting for the next words to be spoken, before the meaning of the prince's gaze dawned on him, and he bowed, "I will have the woman and your meal sent immediately to the room."

When Dante stepped out of the palace, as mentioned, a carriage stood in the corner without any passenger or driver. He took a deep breath and his eyes narrowed. He murmured, 

"Wet soil."

Inside the palace, Emily and Aiden walked in one of the corridors on the front side of the palace. Shaking her head, Emily said,

"I cannot believe you didn't question further, and just turned away."

"It was an honest mistake, Lily. It isn't every day that I suspect that people are being carried around wrapped in gunny sacks. It isn't unusual for bodies to be transferred once in a while, which is why I didn't question it," Aiden replied to his sister. "I still find it hard to believe that Zion was behind it."

"The more surprising thing is about Queen Maya. Also, didn't Brother Maxwell put her in the dungeon a little too soon?" Emily asked, lowering her voice. 

"If you ask me, he was protecting her," Aiden replied, and this made Emily turn to look at him in question. "From Brother Dante. Especially after how he treated Zion."

"Yes, you told me about it," Emily murmured with a frown. From what Aiden described, it felt very out of character for Dante to punish the minister without first being interrogated.

"Told you what?" came a person's voice, accompanied by the sound of approaching footsteps. 

Emily and Aiden turned to look down the opposite end of the corridor, where a man's figure appeared in their view. They both looked surprised, and the princess frowned before asking, 

"What are you doing here?" 

"That's not very polite, Princess," Prince Raylen responded with a kind smile, before his eyes subtly narrowed at her, and he added, "Especially when you have the habit of touching people's coffins."

"He has a coffin already?" Aiden whispered to his sister, and Emily whispered back, 

"I told you he's not right in the head." She saw the prince look around, and she plastered a polite smile on her face and said to him, "This isn't a very good time to stop by, and I ask you to visit tomorrow, if you do not mind." Her family was busy dealing with unfortunate circumstances, and this was no time—

Her train of thought stopped when she noticed two servants carrying trunks. 

Prince Raylen smiled back at them with the same politeness as the princess, and he said, "I will be in Versailles for a couple of weeks, and decided to accept the invitation I didn't take advantage of two months ago." 

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