Page 98 of A Game of Veils

I’ve had a tumble here and there—ladies of the court whose enjoyment of my music overrode my other deficits for the length of a brief fling. After the first few, my own enthusiasm waned when I realized they had no interest in anything other than how I played and how I could get them off.

It’s never been like this, like it is with Aurelia. Never been a passion so consuming every part of me aches with it.

When I cup her breast, her breath stutters into my mouth. With the swivel of my palm, her entire body quivers.

I’ve never felt like this with anyone before her, and Marclinus has never made her feel half as good as I am now. Triumph flares amid my eagerness before desire swallows everything up again.

I need more.

I glide my fingers along the neckline of her dress, and Aurelia leans into my touch. Through kiss after kiss, I ease the fabric down over her shoulder.

My lips travel with it. I tease the edges of my teeth over the edge of her jaw, her gasp making me twice as hard, and brand every inch of her neck. Following the path of her collarbone, I scoop my hand under dress and chemise together and lift her bared breast to my mouth.

The moment my lips close around her stiffened nipple, Aurelia gives a cry she can only partly stifle. She clutches my shoulder and the short strands of my hair, the clamping of her fingers urging me onward.

I’m not sure I’ve ever missed the tongue I gave up quite as much as this moment, but I can do plenty without it. I suckle her down before trailing my teeth across the pebbled nub, and her hips rock toward me.

I meet the motion, unable to stop myself from grinding into her through our clothes. My cock feels ready to burst. I shift my head to nibble my way to her other breast?—

And Aurelia nudges me backward.

It’s not quite a push, but firm enough that there’s no mistaking her intent. My heart constricts and my groin aches, but I draw back a few inches.

Both of our chests are heaving. Aurelia reaches for her skewed bodice, and I tug it back into place with a twinge of loss.

“I’m sorry,” she murmurs. “I—It’s not that I don’t want—To risk everything?—”

I take her face between my hands and bow my head so our foreheads rest together.

I know. I know we shouldn’t be doing this at all. I know the little of herself she’s shared with me is already an unexpected prize.

How did this start with me simply wanting to ruin her, to have something Marclinus hadn’t gotten to claim yet, to steal what wasn’t rightfully mine the way Raul boasted about?

Maybe that desire isn’t totally gone. Maybe part of the ache inside me is the longing to have her want me more than him so much that she’d throw caution to the wind.

But mostly I just want her. I want to believe with all I have that she could be something right in this place where so much has always been wrong.

Assuming that’s true could be a mistake, though, couldn’t it?

She’ll never be mine. Not even here in this room where we’re alone, where I had her clinging to me and crying out with pleasure. Marclinus is here too, in the press of her hand returning the distance between us.

No matter what else happens, if she survives the trials, she’s going to marry him. She doesn’t like the idea, but she’ll do it for reasons beyond her own heart regardless. She’s never once pretended otherwise.

And I’ll have to watch her do it.

My emotions have tangled so much I don’t know how to pick them apart. Aurelia tilts her head to offer me one more kiss, but this one feels like an extension of her apology more than an act of passion.

She slides off the desk and reaches for the door. I let her go, not sure who I hate most for it.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Aurelia

Ithought spring in Dariu was uncomfortably warm, but this afternoon is giving me my first taste of how sweltering the summer might become. The sun blazes down over the garden from the cloudless sky. Even in my airy Darium-style dress, sweat forms on my back after a few minutes under its rays.

The gentlemen and ladies of the court have resorted to gathering around the flowering trees and taller hedges where they can take shelter in the shade. The heat turns the usual floral aroma even more cloying. Many of the ladies have spread out embroidered sheets to sit on, far too fine to be used for picnicking, while most of the men insist on stoically standing.

I meander between the patches of shadow, always on the edges of the conversations. Several of the maids have come out with us to attend to their mistresses with beverages and fanning, but I made myself ask for Melisse to join me today so I don’t appear to overly favor Rochelle. I couldn’t have talked freely with the former lady in front of the court anyway.

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