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Positively Despotic

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~1~

Had anyone told Kiana her pathway to being an international reporter was being assigned to the tiny Republic of Frumos, she would have laughed in their face. She had graduated at the top of her class at Columbia School of Journalism, she had interned at the New York Times bureau in London. She had written dozens of award winning small pieces on everything from the genocide in Sudan to the recent international economic collapse published in publications all over the world. So when she had landed a position as a foreign correspondent for a huge national network, she had been beyond ecstatic. That is, until she was handed her first assignment.

Who the hell had even heard of the Republic of Frumos, anyway? No one gave a damn about a tiny country nestled between Romania and Hungry. Yeah, it was beautiful in a wild, gothic kind of way, but really, who gave a damn about a tiny Republic ruled by two despotic brothers? It was just like any other Eastern Block country after the fall of the Soviet Union; chaotic, unstable and damn near broke.

Well, it had been chaotic after the death of its last leader, yet another despot, Andrei Alexandrescu. And surprise, surprise, who had brought order out of chaos? None other than the former leader’s two sons, Dragoş and Valentin. Kiana was here to report on the two brothers; how they ruled, how they oppressed, and more importantly, the rumored deal with the United States government to house some very serious weaponry a secret location in the Frumos Mountains. She wasn’t so sure how she felt about the last little tidbit she was supposed to be investigating. The release of that kind of information could cause some serious problems in the neighborhood, especially with Russia. Relations were already strained. She wasn’t really sure she would report on anything like that should she find out. Her job was to find and report news, not national security secrets.

Apparently, the last leader had been in Russia with his top general who also happened to his brother when his wife was kidnapped and killed, supposedly with the assistance of someone high up in the Russian government. Why anyone in the Russian government would assist in such an act made no sense, but it had been the beginning of the end of the last regime.

As for the rest, well she didn’t really give a shit. To be honest, she didn’t particularly care of this tiny country was ruled by despots. From what she had seen so far, the people were not only happy with the current rulers, they were downright fawning. Every one of the locals she attempted to lure into candid conversation spoke of both brothers with a weird kind of awe. Oh well, what was two more despots in this part of the world or in any other part of the world, really? Despite popular opinion back home, not everyone wanted democracy, such as it was.

So here she was, standing around among a multitude of reporters from across the globe, all low level nobodies like herself, waiting for a press conference to be given by the Brothers Alexandrescu. Kiana guessed she had to make her bones somehow, but she sincerely doubted it would be here. She would put together something sufficiently heart wrenching. Poor oppressed people, two brutal dictators, so on and so forth. Then she would get the hell out of dodge. It was freaking cold here. Kiana hated cold weather.

*****

It was Dragoş’s job to notice things, therefore nothing escaped his notice. The sexy reporter he noticed before he and Valentin stepped out of the small room they used to view the assembled crowd. It was impossible not to notice her, she stood out like a brightly plumed song bird among a punch of crows. She wasn’t beautiful; the word was far too tame for a woman like her. She was captivating, infinitely alluring. She was the type of woman a man spent his life trying to know.

While most of the reporters dressed in drab clothing all covered up in tweed and corduroy, she had donned a form fitting skirt, thick but feminine, and a light peach silk shirt. The pastel color complimented the rich darkness of her skin. Her hair was cut in a bob, framing her pixie-like face. Her eyes darted around the room, taking in everything. She didn’t have a notebook, like the others, but stood rather impatiently, waiting for the press conference to start, her little booted foot tapping against the marbled floor. Because of her diminutive size, she had been placed up front near the podium. Good, it was easy access.

“O vreau.” The sound of his own growl surprised him. He hadn’t meant to say it out loud.

Valentin peered over his shoulder. Dragoş knew the moment his brother spotted her. There was an infinitesimal stiffening of his body, a soft exhale. Yes, Valentin felt it too.

“Yes, I can see why you want,” his brother murmured. “And I agree. Exquisite.”

“Shall I have Nicu collect her after?” Dragoş was uncharacteristically impatient.

Their fathers had warned them of this. They were a people who believed in mysticism and things unseen larger than themselves. They had damn good cause. They were more than human. They were wolf shifters and wizards, bound to this land from the moment of their births.

The brothers shared far more than rule of a country. They shared everything. From the time they were old enough to understand anything, they had been taught to do everything together, to lean on one another for more than support. It had been decreed by the spirits long before historians kept time. They lived longer, shrouding the truth of what they were with magic. Each pair of brothers ruled for one century, then disappeared into the mists of the forests for the next pair to take over.

But there was one powerful element to their rule Dragoş and Valentin were missing. Their bride. Supposedly they would know her on sight, long for her scent, and love her until the end of time. It was this love that had destroyed their fathers, but not through any wrong doings of their own.

One of their fathers, Luca, had five brothers. After they fall of the Soviet Union, the brother with no true claim to power in Frumos had fought for power elsewhere using any and every treacherous means imaginable. Their uncles had been responsible for the death of their mother. But Luca had something none of the other brother had. He had the brother-bond, a brother-bond the others had been denied. There was only one bond per generation. Their uncles and cousins could scoff all they wanted, their combined power was too much to take them head on. Plus, having your bond-brother embedded as a top general had given Luca enormous leverage over the others. No coup could get past the planning stage, because their other father, Christi had eyes and ears everywhere. Dragoş and Valentin had been raised in a home with two fathers and one mother that were completely devoted to each other. It would have seemed odd to an outside observer, but it served its purpose. Only once had the arrangement failed to protect their family, with devastating consequences.

A message had been sent to their mother, claiming to be from her sons. Someone had claimed Valentin had been in a terrible accident and was not likely to survive. As any mother would do, she rushed off, determined to get to Scotland where they both had gone to college at St. Andrew’s while her husbands were away in Russia. It was rare they left her alone, but negotiations for peace had been fierce and both men had been determined to throw off the rule of their former Russian overlords. She had repeatedly tried to call both men, but a junior officer, part of the plot, had refused to let her speak to either Luca or Christi. Her plane crashed in the mountains without making it out of Frumos.

It was a tragic lesson, but Luca and Christi had taught their sons well. Never leave their woman unprotected. Always work as a unit. Never let anyone into their inner circle. It was the only way to preserve the Republic from those who would see it fall into the hands of their greedy, bigger neighbors, or take over for themselves, giving the land a true taste of tyranny. All of the Alexandrescu family had gifts of magic, though not all were shifters. With even a little knowledge of wizardry, usurpers who ran unchecked could devastate the natural balance and destroy the country.

Dragoş and Valentin had heard the rumors concerning them. They knew the reporters assembled were here to see the Frumosian Despots, as they were so affectionately called. While it was true they kept a tight rein on their country, it was out of necessity. Even now, the two uncles who yet live, as well as numerous cousins schemed and plotted to wrestle power away from them. Without completion of the triad, they were vulnerable and had not yet attained their full power. They could never let down their guard or show weakness. At the same time, they were not the monsters their kinsmen had whispered to the world they were. It smarted to be thought of as such. They were far from the monsters they were painted as being.

“Yes,” Valentin agreed after several moments of quiet contemplation. “Send Nicu to collect her. Tell him to find out where she is staying and collect her belongings. I think we should give the lovely reporter an exclusive, no?”

Dragoş had to restrain himself from clapping his hands and jumping up and down like a child. Oh yes, they needed to give this reporter an exclusive all right. Already the pull of their woman so strong it was almost a tangible thing.

“We must tread carefully, Dragoş,” his brother cautioned him. “While I, too, am excited, Western women don’t understand our…ways.”

“I will tread as carefully as I can,” he answered Valentin honestly. “But I cannot promise to wait long.”

As Valentin turned away, Dragoş distinctly heard his brother’s muttered, “Nor can I.”

Available Right Now!!!

With a fierceness and determination that inhabits most volunteers, Rolanda swelled with pride as she followed her dreams of helping her fellow world citizens as she trekked across the globe to Afghanistan. There she discovered she was volunteering for something even her wildest imaginations could not foresee- as what awaited her in that hot, desert clime was a mysterious sheik that looked and breathed as if he were ripped from pages of the erotic romances which were her guilty pleasure. With a tenseness that gripped her throat with the possibility of the unknown, she realized her only way of escaping him was to submit to his will and regale him with the erotic tales he demanded. With her future on the line, she began to spin one tale each night for one thousand and one nights in order to secure her freedom. But what kind of freedom did he mean? Biding her time, Rolanda spun him the First Night's tale while subconsciously plotting her escape.

In the land of Frumos, nothing is quite what it seems - as was true with infamous brothers Valentin and Dragoş. The Alexandrescu's, were rumored to be brutal despots, renowned for taking their land and whatever else pleased them, by brutal force. But what Kiana found as she investigated the mystery of these brothers was something beyond all comprehension; something dark and enigmatic. In this tiny Eastern block country she became so entangled with them, that she would never be who she once was.

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Casting Spells

No, no, no, no! Gargoyles didn’t exist!

Too bad her rational mind was at odds with every other instinct in her body. He was a gargoyle, all right. A damn find one at that.

“You called me.” His voice was not loud, but it was deep and gravelly; and for some reason, easily heard above the boom and bass of the music blaring throughout the club. “I heard you call and accept your offer.”

“My-my offer?” Her voice was wobbly and weak. She wasn’t sure how she knew, but she knew he could hear it nonetheless. The cocked brow was a dead giveaway.

“To mate,” he explained impatiently, moving forward enough to force her backward.

“Uh, I think there might be some mistake.” He kept moving forward, so she kept moving back, until she found herself flat against the back wall to the right of raised platform booth containing the deejay.

“There was no mistake,” he growled all sexy-like at her. Her panties were instantly wet. A bolt of raw, unadulterated need shot through her body.

Oh, man she was in trouble! Looking around, she noticed no one, not even Anne, was looking in their direction. In fact, Anne was staring wistfully at the spot Rebecca had so recently vacated on the dance floor.

“They can’t see us,” the gargoyle informed her. “They see you as you were. We are completely masked.” His hands came to rest on either side of her head, trapping her against the wall. “I fought for the right to have you, and you will be mine.”

Next Door Favor

“Mine!” he roared and hauled her in his arms.

“Then act like you want it, motherfucker!” she spat.

Act like he wanted it? Act?! Was she fucking kidding? He didn’t have to act like shit—he wanted Lightning and he was going to spend the rest of the day proving that!

“I don’t have to act like I want what’s mine. I’ve wanted it since I laid eyes on it,” he drawled in her ear.

“Well, then, come big or stay at home!” she challenged.

“I am at home,” he returned as he backed her into the counter and acquainted himself with her curves.

“Then there’s nothing left for you to do…except for come,” she said as she lifted her pelvis into his.

Having his arm full of his fantasy felt right, but Sebastian still needed more. Pulling her closer, he reached down and caressed her sex, reveling in the way she opened for him. Closing his eyes, he inhaled deeply, dragging the scent of her arousal deep into his lungs. He couldn’t help but feel arrogant knowing he was the reason for the dew that soaked her scrap of panty. Feeling her wrap her legs tightly around him, he thrust his jean-covered crotch against her mound, mimicking sex.

“Sebastian,” she moaned. “Sebastian.”

The sound of his name on her tongue almost broke him. He’d never heard his name said like that. He’d heard his name said with contempt, apathy, textbook pronunciation, anger, fear, lust, even maternal love, but he’d never heard his name come out of anyone’s mouth the way it had from Lightning’s. She said his name so good, so honest, so feisty, and now he wanted to hear her scream his name with all of that passion. Hefting her in his arms, he made his way to the bedroom.

His trek was interrupted by the star of his fantasies. “The sauce, Sebastian. Don’t forget the sauce.”

Grabbing the sauce on his way, he made a beeline for his bedroom.

New Obessesion

The first dude who ever asked to go out with me was this auburn head hottie in seventh grade. He kinda looked like this:

I loved Kevin McKidd since I first saw him and for the life of me I couldn't understand why. Then it hit me. Brian! (Forgot his last name, I am old)


Brian and I never went on an actual "date", but Monday through Friday from eight a.m. until about four, we were boyfriend and girlfriend. He walked my half way home (I was terrified my dad might catch us so he couldn't walk me all the way-sooo wasn't allowed to date, and my dad was prejudiced so I REALLY couldn't date a white guy). He gave me my first kiss. He was the first guy to tell me I was beautiful. Not hot, beautiful. He looked at me like I was, well, special.
Life throws us twists and turns, takes us places we never imagine, but you never forget your first. Not the first time I had sex, but the first time I fell in love. Here's to you Brian, where ever you are!