Page 59 of A Sin So Pure

“Not so much that we’re close as we’re experimenting on some new business deals.” Nora’s nose scrunches. She leans her forearms on the table, cocking her head and shooting Josie aconspirator’s glance. “Josie over here took lead on the project, sourcing goods for Gluttony’s chefs.”

“It’s a whole human-fae fusion concept,” Josie says, red tinting her cheeks. “Utilizing rare human ingredients and pairing them with Faerie staples.”

“Why didn’t you say something sooner?” I reach over and squeeze Josie’s knee. “That’s amazing.”

“Thanks, I’m quite proud of it.”

“I never realized you were so creative. You’ve been holding out on me. You should help out with our expansion.”

The kitchen doors fling open again, revealing younglings carrying bottles of dessert liquors, coffee, and platters overflowing with cookies and pastries.

“Only if you want me to,” Josie says.

“Why wouldn’t I want you to?”

She shakes her head. “I don’t know.”

“Then it’s settled,” I say, lifting my glass. “To the first of hopefully many collaborations between our Houses.”

Our glasses clink together, ringing out little chimes as Wes drops a plate of dessert in front of us that makes me salivate. Flaky golden pastries shaped like clam shells sit at the center and cookies line the edge. Some are sprinkled with pine nuts, some have thumbprint dips filled with jam, and others are dipped in chocolate. But all of them smell like butter and sugar and all that is good in the realm.

Nora taps my shoulder, and I’m once again jolted from a food-induced stupor. One of her black brows is cocked in amusement.

“What?” I ask.

“I asked if you will join me upstairs for dessert?”

I eye the platters of pastries, then her. I have to blink a few times before it registers that I’mnotimagining the way her eyes darken with hunger.

“Only if I get a pastry after dessert,” I tentatively tease.

“I already asked that someone bring some up for us,” she says, a dangerous lilt to her words. “Though I’m not opposed to partaking in both kinds of sweets.”

Josie snorts as both Nora and I shove our chairs back, the legs scraping against the floor and drawing the wide-eyed attention of those around us. But Nora doesn’t pay any mind, simply grabbing my hand and tugging me from my seat.

And like so many times before, I find myself being pulled upstairs by Nora—but this time we’re not drunk, not stumbling, and the voice at the back of my head is blissfully silent.

15

NORA

I’m tired of denying myself.

The fire crackles low, casting an ethereal yellow-orange glow across the wood-slated walls as I push her through the door.

Once it’s shut, I crowd her against it, pulling her mouth to mine. It’s been too long since I’ve tasted her—two, three weeks maybe? The longest time our bodies have been apart in years. Our lips dance together, tracing familiar steps. Imogen hums into my mouth, opening so sweetly for me.

I pull back, but only enough to let us catch our breaths. Her amber eyes glitter, flittering around the space and taking in every detail. She gasps, her gaze stalling over my shoulder.

“Gods, Nora,” she says, mouth agape. Her tongue darts out, swiping over her bottom lip. “A wall of swords?”

She ducks under the cage of my arms, scurrying over to the wall behind my desk, which does, in fact, have a number of swords and daggers mounted on it. They shine in the soft light, silver and steel glinting with our reflections. Imogen runs a finger over the edge of one blade, shivering at the sharp and cold metal.

I follow, stopping behind her. I snake my arms around her waist, tugging her back to my front; warmth surrounds me, and it’s not from the fire that crackles under the mantel.

“Be careful,” I whisper in her ear. “I don’t feel like playing nurse and giving you stitches tonight.”

“You couldn’t kiss it better?”

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