Jakarta's Trust (Castle Phantasie Book 1)

Amourisa Press and Kit Tunstall reserve all rights to JAKARTA’S TRUST (CASTLE PHANTASIE #1). This work may not be shared or reproduced in any fashion without permission of the publisher and/or author. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

© Kit Tunstall, 2015 Cover Images: Depositphoto/jojjik; MarinaSvetlova;

Previously published by Ellora's Cave as “A Christmas Phantasie” between 2003 and 5/31/15. Please make sure to buy the Amourisa Press version and
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if you see an Ellora's Cave electronic version available anywhere after 6/2015. Thanks for your help and support.

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Contents

Blurb

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Author’s Note

The book is fantasy only, taking elements of BDSM and D/s, without faithfully following a classic relationship. It is not intended to be a completely accurate portrayal of a real BDSM and/or Dominant/submissive relationship, which is much more than spanking or someone surrendering control to another. To learn more about the elements of a true power exchange relationship, visit shadowfind.com and drmsrealm.com.

B
LURB

After a bad marriage, Jakarta finds it difficult to commit to a future with the man she's now seeing. Teague has grown frustrated with her hesitation, believing she doesn't trust him. On their Christmas trip to Castle Phantasie, with its reputation of fulfilling dreams of the vanilla or kinky variety, things come to a head. Jakarta must prove her trust in Teague by submitting to him, or their relationship will end. She loves him, but what he's asking for might be more than she can give.

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Jakarta stumbled when she and Teague entered the lobby of Castle Phantasie. If not for his supporting arm cradling hers, she might have fallen over in shock at the sight that met her eyes. She couldn’t help gazing with childlike wonder at the Christmas tree dominating the lobby. It must have been twenty feet tall, but the arched ceiling of the room easily accommodated its height.

Even more stunning than its stature were the tree’s decorations. Real candles in brass holders, numbering in the hundreds, dotted the branches. Interwoven among the lights were thick bunches of white garland, along with antique ivory and brass bulbs. The angel at the top was too far up to distinguish its features, but it wore an intricate scarlet and ivory dress. To show up as well as it did, the tree topper must have been at least three or four feet in height.

She turned to Teague, giving him an impulsive hug. “This is fabulous, darling.” When he had promised to give her a Christmas to remember, he hadn’t taken the oath lightly.

He put his arm around her waist, pulling her closer. Strands of her ebony hair brushed his cheek when he bent his head to kiss her. “Wait until you see the room. It’s their Deluxe Phantasie suite.”

A surge of excitement filled her at the prospect. As she walked with Teague to check in, in her mind’s eye, she envisioned yards of soft carpet, decadent fabrics, and antique furnishings.

The process went quickly, handled by an efficient blond German man who spoke English with a crisp accent. After taking their pertinent information, he entrusted them to a bellhop. The young man took Jakarta’s carryon bag and led them up the stone staircase.

Jakarta admired the castle with wide eyes. It was obvious the owner had made every attempt to restore Castle Phantasie to its original splendor, wherever possible. The details were exquisite, down to the candleholders mounted on the wall flanking the staircase, complete with red, holly-scented candles, wreathed with real holly leaves, and currently not lit.

The climb up the stairs seemed to take forever, and she became aware of the chill that had settled into her bones during the drive from the airport in the van. Even her new ski jacket didn’t do much to warm her.

She slanted a look at Teague, noting the flush of color in his wind-kissed cheeks. His hair was damp from the snow that had melted in it. The light cast by the crystal chandeliers spaced every few feet on the vaulted ceiling brought out red-gold highlights in his honey-brown hair. He looked cold too, but she easily thought of ways they could quickly warm up each other.

“Just this last flight,” said their bellhop several flights of stairs later. “There’s an elevator, but this is the best way to see the castle.”

Jakarta breathed a sigh of relief, knowing the trek was almost over, and that she could use the elevator from now on. Apparently, even chasing after a classroom of forty-two six-year-olds all day hadn’t given her the stamina to tackle all these stairs.

A couple of minutes later, she decided it had been worth every single step to arrive at their room. The young man had swiped an electronic card through the box mounted beside the ornately carved wooden door and now stood back to let them enter. “There are only two tower rooms,” he said, as they slipped past him. “These suites are always booked, sometimes years in advance.”

Jakarta lifted a brow in Teague’s direction. “How long ago did you make this reservation?”

He squirmed, appearing embarrassed. “Last Thanksgiving.”

She flinched, abruptly remembering last November had been the first time he proposed to her. Had he booked this room with the anticipation of honeymooning here?

The thought was uncomfortable, and she allowed the room’s beauty to distract her from it. It was a circle, complete with two tall windows that would have been without glass when the castle was first constructed. The stone walls could have been original, but they were well maintained if they were.

While Teague tipped their attendant, Jakarta wandered deeper into the sitting room, paused by the roaring fire to strip off her heavy gloves, which she stuffed into her pockets, and brought her hands closer to the flame. A white fur rug—appearing soft and inviting—draped strategically in front of the fireplace, was the perfect contrast to the black carpet. The furniture wasn’t the antique style she had anticipated, but modern, covered by gleaming white fabric, and didn’t detract from the aged atmosphere of the annular room.

Sliding glass doors, set directly into the rounded side of the outer wall, caught her attention. Jakarta walked over to them, taking a moment to figure out how they worked. The doors opened like any other sliding glass door, but curved around the orbicular shape of the room, instead of sliding straight.

Beyond the glass doors was a balcony. She stepped outside, immediately huddling deeper into her coat, as the cold wind tried to burrow inside. Her bare hands instantly felt chapped by the temperature, and fat snowflakes stung her cheeks. She walked to the thin metal rail and looked down.

She stepped back when vertigo seized her. They were at the highest point of Castle Phantasie, and the ground was a long way down. From this vantage point, the mountain framing the castle seemed accessible merely by reaching out to touch it.

She turned around and went back inside, just as Teague closed the door behind the man and dropped the electronic key on the gleaming black table by the door. She went to him, putting her arms around his waist. “This is fabulous, honey.” Tears welled in her eyes, thinking about the trouble he must have gone to in planning this trip.

“It is beautiful, isn’t it?” He stepped away long enough to unzip his coat and pull it off. “Let me take yours too.”

She shrugged off the damp ski jacket and handed it to him. He hung both on the black coat rack by the door before turning back to her. She smiled. “Let’s see what’s behind curtain number one.”

He nodded, and they walked together over to the partition that divided the room. It wasn’t so much a suite as it was a studio, with only one wooden door, which must conceal the bathroom. Teague slid back the fabric partitions separating the sleeping area from the sitting room space to reveal the bedroom. It was sparse, with only a large dresser in the same gleaming black wood as the rest of the suite, and a rack for hanging clothes.

Only the bed saved it from being mundane. An image of the two of them rolling on the snowy white fur coverlet draped over the massive round bed caused her breath to catch in her throat. She looked at Teague, noting his flush had deepened, and his breathing was ragged. She knew he was sharing her thoughts, but that didn’t surprise her. After two years together, their minds were often accordant. “I’ve never slept on a round bed before.”

Teague gave a husky chuckle. “You won’t be doing much sleeping for the next few days, my love.”

No, she didn’t imagine she would. A sigh escaped her, as she found herself wishing they could just stay in the bedroom. Their rapport was perfect there, unlike other aspects of their lives. Did he feel it too, that they were drifting apart? Was this trip nothing more than a last-ditch effort to salvage their relationship?

A knock at the door interrupted her morose thoughts. “Who’s that?”

“Probably dinner. I requested it be brought to our room tonight, since I anticipated we would both be tired from the long flight.” He frowned. “I hope that was okay with you? I wasn’t trying to make the decision for you.”

Jakarta smiled, and her dark brown eyes softened. “That’s fine.” She searched for a way to express how touched she was that he would worry about making such a small decision for her, but the moment passed when he walked to the door to admit room service. Again, tears welled in her eyes, and she brushed them away, impatient with her melancholy thoughts and tendency to cry tonight.

Besides, Teague wouldn’t be expecting gratitude. For him, offering her a choice in everything was an essential part of helping her heal. She knew he held the hope that if she could completely get beyond the past with Darien, then she could move onto a future with him. Thus far, she hadn’t been able to convince him that she didn’t want any sort of permanency in the future. A sinking sensation filled her stomach, because she suspected when he accepted that, he would end things. Teague wanted more, deserved more, than she could ever give him.

C
HAPTER
T
WO

Jakarta trailed a finger of her left hand across the china plate, getting the last bit of cream. “Those pastries were to die for,” she said, bringing her finger to her mouth to lick off the topping.

Teague intercepted her hand, taking her finger to his mouth. A quiver of delight ran down her spine when he drew the digit between his lips and cleansed her finger with his tongue. He drew out his strokes, licking her finger with small swipes long after when it would have been clean. Finally, he removed her finger, but held her hand, pressing it against his chest. “Delicious.”

She pretended to pout. “I know. That’s why I wanted the last bite.”

His blue eyes took on a smoky tinge, and his voice lowered an octave. “I wasn’t talking about the cream.”

Just the timbre of his voice and that look in his eyes caused her pussy to flood with moisture. Her nipples beaded in her bra, and the lace was suddenly abrasive. She was ready for him to make love to her.

He felt in his pocket for something, and her pulse skyrocketed. He must be looking for a condom, which meant he planned to fuck her right there before the fire, on the white fur rug, where they’d had their impromptu carpet picnic. She couldn’t wait to feel the soft fur against her back, Teague against her front, and his cock sliding deep inside her.

Her erotic thoughts fled when he removed his hand from his pocket, and she saw the familiar diamond ring between his thumb and middle finger. She tried to tug her hand away, as he poised the band over her ring finger. Why did he persist in pushing this issue? “Teague,” she said in a steely tone, meant to act as a warning.

He looked up from the ring and her finger. “Why don’t you just try it on, to see how it fits? You might like it.”

She succeeded in pulling away from his hold. Jakarta shook her head. “No. I already know how I’ll feel about wearing any ring again. It’s a prison, Teague…maybe symbolic, but it’s still a sign of ownership, of possession. I won’t be bound again.”

His eyes darkened further, but not with passion. He dropped the ring on the floor. “Fine. You don’t have to wear a ring. I don’t need that. I’ll take you as my wife, any way I can get you.”

She shook her head. “Why is the piece of paper making it all official so damned important, if the ring isn’t?”