Delicacy Novels & Stories

Platter after platter overflowed with delicacies I could barely name—pâtés that glistened like dark jewels, ribbons of smoked salmon that curled like sea‑serpents, mountains of buttery croissants that seemed to rise on their own. Bowls of steaming broth sat beside crystal goblets that caught the light and flared it back like tiny suns. It was more food than any banquet I’d ever witnessed, a feast meant for a king and his court, not for a single omega who had barely made it through the night. “…you’re late,” Lucen said, his voice low, a note of amusement threading through the words. “I’m not,” I replied automatically, the reflexive deflection a habit honed over years of dodging accusation.

It looked so delicious, so tempting, each morsel adorned with savory allure that now seemed to mock my stubborn resolve. The aroma, once inviting, now hung thick in the air, taunting me with its rich promises. Clasping my hands tightly together, I watched silently as Joshua enjoyed his meal with evident relish. The gentle clinks of silverware against porcelain, the subdued murmur of conversations blending into a distant symphony, formed the backdrop to our silent drama.

Deliciously vulnerable. His hands explored her slowly now, savoring every inch. Fingertips traced from her collarbone down between her breasts, over the flat of her stomach, teasing the edge of her lace panties. He peeled them off with agonizing patience, the fabric dragging along her thighs and leaving a trail of heightened sensitivity. The scent of her arousal — sweet, musky, and heady — mingled with the lingering saffron, wine, and warm teak in the air as he lowered his mouth to her.

"Let's see how delectable you taste, love." Zoravec pulled out his finger and licked it deliberately in front of her, making the woman squirm in excitement. He dived his finger again in her wet pussy folds when the insides of her clenched against his finger. Kate could sense that he was doing all that just to excite her even more. She saw the grinning expressions over his face upon seeing the dedication he was fingerings her.

What if he drags me back to our castle and punishes me for escaping? I heard a soft knock on the door and I opened it. It was Lenora with a bowl of soup and bread. “Here, I had cooked this earlier for Eliphas and Illyria. We had some leftovers, so I heated it up for you,” she mentioned and I happily grabbed the tray. The run through the woods made me hungry. I took a spoonful of the soup and the delicious taste and aroma made me even hungrier. After I took a bite of the bread, I just sat there, looking at the floor.

Only the head was still hairy, its eyes so big and alive. “This is a special delicacy of House Silverclaw. Roasted deer. Can you imagine something better?” Dela said with a huge smile. “Can you, Sully sweetheart?” I tried to smile. “No. There is nothing better.”

She slid into the seat beside him—uninvited but unbothered. The clink of silverware paused. "Sounds like you want something from me," Elder Donato muttered at last, not looking at her. Delilah’s lips parted into a smirk. "Now you are ready." A maid appeared, placing a plate in front of her without asking. The food steamed gently—some kind of braised lamb and vegetables. Delilah picked up her fork, touched nothing. "Well, I actually want something from you," she said, as though discussing the weather.

“It’ll be a feast!” The sight of her father bustling around the kitchen, teasing her mother and reminiscing about their shared memories, drew a smile from Delia. She realized that laughter—their laughter—had been absent from her life for too long. As they sat down for dinner, Delia looked around the table at her parents, the ambiance filled with joy and mutual support. Her mother served their favorite dishes: creamy pasta, roasted vegetables, and a salad filled with vibrant colors. The comfort food offered more than just nourishment; it was a gateway to a time when she felt safe and loved.

Aurora climbed onto hers, straight-backed and regal already trained in the kind of etiquette that would make high society weep with pride. Delilah’s staff walked into the room, laying out a spread. Truffle risotto, butter-poached lobster, a side of roasted vegetables grown in our private greenhouse. A decanted bottle of Amarone rested beside my glass, already poured. I smiled at my wife and she slyly smiled back, I took a sip of wine as Niccolò banged his spoon against his plate, already making a mess. Aurora sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Niccolò, use your hands properly. You're disgusting.”

“You don’t get this kind of flavor anywhere else in the country.” Zagaff smirked a little, his eyes turned once more to the glass before replying, “Divas Delux only serves the finest. They know how to treat their guests.” The girls beside Ruger leaned in closer, one gently resting her hand on his shoulder while the other traced a finger along the rim of his glass. Ruger chuckled, murmuring something about how they were, “and these birds beside me really know how to keep me warm.” They laughed softly and tilted their heads toward him like he was telling the sweetest secret.