Page 23 of Court of Rivals (Their Dragon Rider #1)

H arper

I had a rough night's sleep and a full day of training, and yet, I’m still restless. I don’t know why, but it’s starting to drive me crazy. Ever since I got here, it’s like I can’t seem to feel settled. W ill I ever feel settled again?

There’s a knock at my door. I take a deep breath, setting down the book beside me that’s detailing one of the great wars with the Hollowborn.

It was a riveting read, but I honestly don’t mind the break.

Reading all the descriptions about the bone wyrm melting the flesh off the riders was getting to be a bit much.

I’m already prepared to have some dark nightmares tonight.

Opening the door, I find several servants standing, waiting. “We brought your clothes from the tailor, my lady.” One woman says cheerily, her hands full of clothes.

I step out of the way. “Come in! Come in!”

All four servants enter and go straight for my wardrobe, filling it up with a combination of more leather fighting outfits, and spectacular-looking dresses made of the finest fabrics I’ve ever seen. They’re an array of colors unlike any dresses I’ve ever seen in my life.

“What are all the dresses for?” I ask.

The first servant-woman, a robust older lady in a plain dress with a low neckline, bobs as she speaks to me. “Dragon riders are expected to attend many of the king’s parties.” She winks at me. “He likes to show his riders off.”

Okay… I guess that’s something to look forward to.

Another servant lays an outfit on my bed. The fabric is a pretty reddish-leather. The pants are leather that look soft as butter and the matching top seems to be secured with leather around the neck. It’s pretty, though not something I’m used to wearing.

“It’s for your training today, my lady,” the woman says, bobbing her head but not looking at me.

My lady. It sounds strange. I want to correct her, but I don’t want to make things even more awkward, so I keep the thought that they shouldn’t be calling me that to myself.

“Thanks.”

They all file back out, and then I turn to the outfit on my bed. A new outfit? Why not.

Dressing quickly, I’ve just barely got myself straightened out when the bell tolls, marking the start of our first activity of the day.

I don’t honestly know how the dragon riders know what’s going on each day, because it seems random.

As hard as I’ve tried, I haven’t picked out a pattern in anything we do.

From what Roland has said, it’s mostly different types of training sprinkled around three meals a day.

Although I’d heard it said that we do class work too, which I’m kind of looking forward to.

Heading out my door, I feel strangely exposed.

My entire back is open, and the front’s a little more low-cut than my typical clothes.

But if the king had this specially made for my training, I’m going to try to give it a shot.

Besides, the leather is really soft and well-made.

I’ve never worn anything this expensive in my life.

I wind around the hall until I make it to the doorway leading out into the training yard.

The other dragon riders are already there.

I’d opted for my breakfast in my room today, so I could keep studying my book, but I was betting most of them were coming directly from the dining hall.

Already they’re tearing off their shirts and tossing them around, then getting into circles to fight, so I guess I already know what today will bring.

More hand-to-hand combat, but this time I’m determined not to be called up.

Picking a circle, I linger on the outskirts of it and watch as one man after another goes into a circle and faces off with his opponent.

They punch, kick, tackle, and wrestle each other to the ground.

There seems to be no limits within the circle, which is strange to see, but probably best prepares them for real battle.

I wrestled with my brothers a ton growing up, but I always knew they held back.

They could’ve punched me square in the face, like Prince Alaric did, but they never went that far.

We’re on the fifth fight in the circle I’m at when one man knocks out the other.

Everyone cheers for the winner, and the loser is dragged out of the circle and tossed to the side.

There, one man waves a smelling salt under the unconscious man’s nose to bring him back.

I’m watching him, wondering if he needs my help, when I make the mistake of making eye contact with Prince Lucien.

“You!” he says loudly, pointing at me. All gazes turn to figure out who he’s looking at. “I challenge you.”

My stomach twists, but everyone is looking, so I slowly move into the circle.

“Ready to embarrass yourself again?” Prince Lucien asks, giving me a wicked smile as he secures his long blond hair behind his head.

I smile. “We’ll see who's embarrassed by the end of this.”

We start to circle each other, and his narrowed green eyes watch my every move. But there’s something there. Uncertainty. Regret. I’m not sure.

“Or you could just say that I’m the victor, and we end this right now…” he suggests softly, as the men shout around us.

“Not a chance,” I say, every muscle in my body tense.

“These might look like games, but they’re not. This is real. And if you fight me, you might not like what happens.” It’s weird. He almost sounds sincere.

“Stop mouthing off and just fight me,” I say.

He leaps toward me, but I’m ready for it, jumping to the side.

The circle of men push him back towards me, but every time he gets close, I manage to escape him.

He’s breathing hard, looking frustrated.

But I know the smartest thing I can do is to stay out of his reach.

I know how to take down men bigger and stronger than me, but it’d be better to tire him out first.

“You going to keep running away?” He says between rapid breaths.

“I already seem to be tiring you out.” I smirk, but never take my eyes off of him.

One of the men gets pushed forward into the circle. He falls onto his knees, then scrambles back. Unfortunately for me, his presence is just enough to distract me for a half a second. Just enough time for Prince Lucien to leap forward at me.

I turn, but he gets me in his grip. Unfortunately for him, I’ve wrestled with my brothers about a thousand times, so every time he thinks he has me pinned, I wiggle my way out of his grip.

Before long, he’s sweating and swearing, his frustration palpable.

I just wish he’d give me a tiny bit of breathing room.

I have all kinds of moves that could take him down, if I could just get that space.

And then, he knocks me to the ground on my knees. He’s behind me, trying to get a hold of me, but I’m shifting and moving every time he thinks he has a grip on me, before finally making it back to my feet. Suddenly, I feel him behind me, hard as fuck, his dick rubbing against my ass.

“Is this turning you on?” I ask, only belatedly realizing how loud I’d been.

Laughter starts around the circle, and Prince Lucien’s movements become angrier. Rougher. I keep shifting and squirming to avoid him pinning me down, but his erection is there. Ever present. Rubbing against my ass. Proof that this prince sees me as more than just competition.

“Are you sure you’re trying to beat me? Or fuck me?” I shout over my shoulder.

More laughter. Their teasing fills the air, and Lucien stops moving behind me, breathing hard. “You want to play dirty, Cock Sucker? I can play dirty.”

I feel him tug at the back of my neck and only have a second to realize what’s happening before my top falls down, and my breasts come free. The laughter dies, but I just stay frozen. Unsure of what to do. Shocked.

“Cover yourself up,” he says, “and admit defeat.”

That’s what I should do. Shouldn’t I? And yet, I can’t imagine just admitting defeat.

I grit my teeth, trying to escape him. “No.”

Anger laces his words. “Why are you so stubborn ?”

He continues to grapple with me, and I keep slipping out of his hold. Fully aware of the fact that I’m topless. Fully aware that I’m exposing myself to a room full of men that I hate.

“Cover yourself up,” he orders again.

“Fuck you!”

“You know,” he’s huffing and puffing, “it’s actually hard not to touch you, them , when you’re like this. This is hand-to-hand combat.”

“Don’t be prissy on my account,” I taunt, an image of him touching my breasts in my mind. An image that doesn’t entirely bother me.

He knocks me forward, so I’m on the ground. I manage to roll around, and he climbs on top of me, trying to pin my arms above my head. I squirm and fight him as the men go wild.

“You’re fully exposed. Do you know that ? Isn’t that humiliating ?” He taunts.

Tears of frustration prick my eyes, but we continue to wrestle and fight.

Heat rolling between us. His hard erection between my thighs, his face rubbing my breasts, whether intentionally or not, I don’t know.

He finally manages to pin me down by my wrists and fully climb on top of me.

We’re both breathing hard as he, and all the men in our circle, stare down at me completely topless.

“Now, what should I do with my little Cock Sucker?” he asks, Leaning over me he whispers, “Just admit defeat. Come on. Admit it .”

“What the fuck?”

I jerk my head to see Prince Gareth pushing his way through the circle of men. His gaze slides from my face to my exposed breasts and he strides forward and punches Prince Lucien in the face. The other man goes down like a log. Then, he pulls up my top, picks me up, and tosses me over his shoulder.

The men are booing him, but he doesn’t seem to care.

He rushes past everyone in the practice yard, then heads back into the hallways.

Weaving down the hallways, I lie against his back, my head spinning.

All of this feeling like a bad dream. I don’t even know where he’s heading when he suddenly stops at my door and drops me off his back.

My top falls down, and he takes half a second to stare, before he pulls it back up.

I blink, in shock. How did all that happen? It happened so fast…

Clenching the straps of my top in his hand, he closes the space between us. “Don’t ever do something like that again. Your body is not just something to show off to a bunch of horny men.”

I’m breathing hard, maybe because of what just happened, maybe because of his nearness, I don’t know. “Do you think I wanted that to happen? Prince Lucien did it.”

His jaw ticks, and he looks away from me. “That wasn’t smart of him. He wanted to punish you, but didn’t think it through. I won’t let something like that happen again.”

His dark blue eyes find mine again. “For fucks sake, Harper, you realize that we’re all ramped up because of our dragons, right? You realize how bad it’s gotten since you and your dragon came here, don’t you? The men are losing control, and having someone who looks like you around isn’t helping!”

I lick my lips, feeling strange. “You act like any of what you said is my fault. I mean, fuck, your dad is the one who had that outfit made for me.”

“I don’t care who did what.” Clenching the leather straps of my shirt tighter, he pulls me closer. “Let’s just put it this way. If I see any part of you exposed again, I’m going to do something about it. Do you understand me?”

I swallow, hard, not sure exactly what he’s implying. And maybe curious about what he means. “I understand.”

He reaches over me, so his entire body brushes against mine, including his bare chest, and opens my door. His scent washes over me, something clean and crisp that I like more than I should. And it’s strange feeling his bare skin against mine. Strange, and good.

Pulling back, he looks down at me again with heated eyes. “Now go put on something we can’t take off quite as easily. We might be royals, but fucking temptation like that could make any man do something dangerous.”

He releases my top, and I manage to catch it and hold it in place just in time. He adjusts himself, looking absolutely thunderous, then turns and stomps away.

I stand and watch him go for a long minute before slipping back into my room and closing the door.

Legs shaking, I go to my bed and collapse back onto it, still holding my top against my chest. The way I’m feeling makes absolutely no sense.

What just happened to me was humiliating.

Easily the most humiliating thing that’s ever happened to me.

I’m not exactly an inexperienced woman, but I’d never want to be topless in front of a group of men.

And yet… it’s like my body doesn’t know what to do with every part of this experience.

I remember Prince Lucien behind me, touching me, being rough with me, and I’m not mad.

I’m not embarrassed. I’m turned on. And then Prince Gareth?

I’ve never had a man act so possessive of me.

Everything about him just radiated man in a way I’ve never experienced before.

I think… I think I’m turned on.

It’s probably my connection to Ebron. That’s what the men had said, right? That we get turned on because of our dragons? Still, knowing that, and feeling this way, doesn’t help one bit.

This connection is scary. All logic says I should be curled up in a ball crying. I should be angry, embarrassed, and struggling with a deep sense of shame. Or, maybe, I should be plotting my revenge. I don’t know. But I sure as hell shouldn’t be turned on.

Maybe when things are calmer, I can ask Ebron. But for now, I have other things on my mind.

Unable to help myself, I undo my pants and reach down. I hesitate for only a second before slipping my hand into my underwear. I find myself completely wet.

Shaking, I start to stroke myself. Slow at first. Then, harder and harder. Before too long, I’m panting, my back arched, tension screaming through every muscle in my body. And then, I come, and come hard. It’s like lightning crashing inside of me, and all I can do is hold on until the tremors pass.

But then, they do pass. I’m left thinking about the three princes, my hand down my pants, trembling and wet, but wishing that instead of my hand, I would’ve had one of them inside of me. Which makes no sense. I don’t want the princes. I don’t even like them.

Do I?