Page 80 of The Iron Dagger
Her heart melted slightly. How much platonic human touch did a man like Gideon receive?
“Of course,” she said. “But I warn you, Seraphine shares the bed with me, and she is fond of kneading in the middle of the night.”
“I remember,” said Gideon, removing his coat.
They each undressed and readied themselves for bed. When they had settled under the thick covers, the heated bed began to pull at her eyelids immediately. Gideon wrapped an arm securely under her ribs, pulling her against his chest, and the tip of his nose rested against her neck. The last thing she remembered was the feel of his breaths, long and deep, as he fell asleep almost instantly.
When the gray morning light slowly illuminated the room, Hara woke and realized that she was thoroughly tangled up in Gideon. Her face was pressed against the column of his neck, and her legs straddled his thigh.
A warm flit of pleasure leapt through her as he shifted harder between her legs. She stifled the moan that almost broke free, and found that he had opened his eyes to fix them on her face.
He moved again, and again, and Hara bit her lip when she realized that he was doing it on purpose. He watched her face as she tried to suppress the sounds that threatened to tumble from her lips.
His hand drifted down her body until it landed on her hip, and he grasped it, holding her firmly over his thigh as he continued to press it up between her legs. Her lips parted andshe allowed herself to pant softly, unable to tear her eyes from his. His expression mirrored hers, and he licked his lips once before his breaths turned short and panting as well.
He rocked up Into her faster now, and she reached out a hand to grasp his tensed bicep. With every tilting motion of his hips she could feel his hardness pressing into her stomach. It was a torturous tease as she remembered how the thick ridge contained behind his clothing had stretched her jaw and filled her mouth.
She was close to begging for it to ease the emptiness that consumed her now. Sweet liquid fire spread from between her legs to her belly, and she clutched at him as the first tendrils of release ensnared her. She rose higher, unable to stop the tiny gasps that escaped her throat, and as she came, he pressed his mouth to her neck, muffling his own satisfied groan.
His movements slowed, and Hara’s breaths became steady once more. He slowly pulled away, looking down at the wetness on his leg with appreciation. Then he looked up at her with a wicked spark in his eyes.
“Good gods, Hara,” he said roughly, moving to press his lips against hers. Hara raised her hips, inviting him to settle between her legs, to take him into her at last, when there was a quick rap at her door. She sighed in frustration.
“That will be Clementine,” she whispered. Then she called out, “Just a moment! I’m not decent.”
“Very well, Mistress Hara! Your ballgown was delivered this morning, so I thought you’d want to try it on for last minute adjustments,” came Clementine’s muffled voice.
“I should go,” whispered Gideon, pressing his mouth briefly to hers before rolling out of bed. He gathered his coat from the chair before the fire, and climbed up into the tapestry.
“I’ll see you tonight at the ball,” he said, flashing her a grin.
FIFTEEN
Angharad
The carriage ascended the crescent-shaped drive of the Falk estate as the evening sun gilded the horizon. Lights lined the drive and illuminated the face of the pale blue mansion. Hara’s breaths felt short. It was enormous; more like a small palace than a house. It was hard to believe this was only one of two grand residences that belonged to the Falk family. Hara could already see a cluster of guests arriving and ascending the wide steps.
When the carriage had arrived for her at the palace, Hara noticed it had the Falk family crest, a sword wrapped in ivy, emblazoned on the door. Clementine had helped her with her train, almost bouncing with excitement as Hara climbed the gilded steps.
“He sent his own carriage!” her maid swooned, clasping her hands to her chest.
“His mother made me guest of honor, so I think it is safe to assume she was the one who sent the carriage.”
“Even better, his mother likes you!” said Clementine, refusing to be dampened.
Now, as she stepped from the carriage holding the hand of the footman, Hara wondered how many of the guests would jump to the same conclusions as Clementine.
Hara took the steps slowly, her heart pounding. In the days leading to the ball, she had tried to practice how she would approach Corvus. According to Gideon, he was jovial, and he could almost appear a little simple. Hara found it difficult to reconcile this version of Corvus with the one that lived in hermind. She decided that the best strategy would be to appear just as harmless as he, a grateful and humble witch who was honored to be included.
When Hara entered the great double doors, the smells of cinnamon, flowers, and roasted meat met her nose. The hall was made entirely of yellow marble, and plush white blooms burst from containers every few paces. Millions of crystal facets winked and shimmered overhead, golden with candlelight.
Massive gilt frames hung heavy upon the walls, and the disdainful faces of Falk ancestors glowered down at her from both sides as though she were an intruder. The delicate click of her heels echoed over the marble, piercing through the rumble of voices that grew louder with every step.
At the entrance to the ballroom, a manservant spotted her and, before she could give her name, he announced, “Guest of honor and Witch Recruiter, Hara of Mortimer.”
Several heads from the crowd snapped in her direction. She nodded her thanks at the manservant and entered the room. Immediately, another servant appeared to her left and offered her a tall flute of golden liquid. She took a peppery sip and sidled to the edge of the room, wishing to get her bearings before seeking out Gideon and commencing with their plan.
Every guest seemed to be dressed in varying shades of blue, contrasting beautifully with the golden hue of the ballroom. There was a long table laid out with all manner of rare delicacies: oysters swimming in sauce, small golden vegetables that had been painstakingly carved, succulent meats, lobster tails garnished with butter roses, and an entire stuffed peacock, its tail held aloft in a grand display.
