Page 20 of Gilded Princess

He sinks his teeth into my neck and bites down for a moment. Not hard enough to break the skin, but enough to trigger a responding pulse in my core. I clench my thighs together, a moan slipping past my lips.

“I’ll find you again. I promise,” he murmurs against my skin.

And in another instant, he’s gone. The space behind me feels cool, his absence larger than just a body behind me. I press a hand to my chest to calm my breathing. I’m huffing like I just ran a marathon, and in some ways, that’s exactly what it felt like.

A goddamn orgasm marathon.

And I was robbed of my finish line.

Light fills the space, and I blink rapidly, my vision blanking while my eyes adjust.

“Babe, didn’t you hear me calling your name? And what are you doing in the dark?” Blaire asks as her eyes narrow.

I squint and turn around to face her. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you. And I couldn’t find the light switch.”

I hope she attributes my flushed cheeks to my faux embarrassment and not from arousal.

She cocks her head to the side. Her eyes sparkle with her critical eye she’s known for, and I school my face into careful faux embarrassment.

“You know me—always so forgetful.” I let out a little fake self-depreciating laugh to really sell it, hating myself a little for playing up the stupid-debutante routine that’s been thrust upon me.

While the awareness never leaves her eyes, she nods after a moment. She crosses the space to stand in front of the mirror, tilting her head from side to side and examining her face. I take it as my cue and walk into the stall, hyperaware that I’m without panties.

“Well, I’m glad I came along then. It’s pitch-black in here, and you could break an ankle just trying to pee. Now hurry up, because Ryan Pope was looking for you, and I have it on good authority that he’s going to ask you to be his plus one for the Hamptons this year. It’s Gatsby-themed, you know.”

I exhale a quiet breath and talk from the stall. “Yeah, I know. I’m not sure if I’ll go with Ryan though.”

“Oh? Did you already get asked?”

“No, but I might have someone in mind to take.” I flush the toilet and cross the space to stand next to her. She meets my gaze in the mirror as I wash my hands.

“Ooh, how very Sadie Hawkins of you. If Mother wasn’t making me go with my betrothed, I’d follow in your footsteps.”

I follow her out of the bathroom, and I make a conscious effort not to look around for my mystery man. The lights are bright enough that I think I could see his pores from here, but either he’s extremely good at hiding or he’s not in here.

I let Blaire lead me back into the event room and to a group of people. Offering polite responses and fake smiles, I check out of the conversation almost immediately. I let my mind wander idly, never straying to the events in the bathroom too much, lest I broadcast my thoughts and flushed cheeks to the shark-infested waters around me.

Finally, after enough time has passed where I can safely leave without offending anyone, I make my exit. I find myself looking over my shoulder every five seconds, slowing my gait as I reach the outer doors.

With one last look around, I don’t see my mystery man anywhere. I had hoped that he’d be waiting for me so we could finish what we started. Disappointment sits like sour milk in my stomach, but I grind it down until I don’t feel the bitterness it left behind.

I paste on a smile and join the crowded sidewalk, my steps unhurried as I make my way home.

Chapter Eight

MADDIE

It’s been six days since the masquerade ball. Five since The Grasshopper. Five long days where I tried my best to get two different men out of my head.

Admittedly, a certain pair of dark brown eyes is a little harder to clear, but I’m doing my best. I live in a city the size of a small country—the likelihood of running into Aries again is slim. Even if our schools are affiliated, the masquerade ball is the kickoff to summer, so events for the next three months are more focused on the social side and less on school. Besides, I’ve never seen him at events before, so he probably was just a friend of a friend or something.

Outside of the bathroom, I never saw him at that luncheon. He’d said he’d find me again, and I’d naïvely thought that meant like right away.

But it’s been five long days.

I almost asked Blaire to text her ex, Dale, about him since it seemed like they knew each other, but I thought better of it in the end. I like Blaire, but I swear she runs on gossip and coffee and her daddy’s black card.

The last thing I need is someone to get the wrong idea. It’s bad enough that douchebags like Charles go around spouting crap about me like I’m some ice queen. They don’t even know me, and honestly, Blaire hardly knows the real me.

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