Page 125 of A Tower of Half-Truths
She shrugged off her blanket, tossed it to the floor, then straddledhim. Grasping his shoulders, she pushed him deeper into the sofa until she was peering down at him. In reply, his hands came to rest on her hips. When she pressed her mouth to his again, her desire was more wanton. She wasted no time before sweeping her tongue across his lips, parting them, delving into his mouth. From how his tongue passionately stroked against hers, to how his fingers pressed firmly into her skin, it was clear that his desire hadn’t quelled. The longer they continued, the more she felt his arousal stiffen beneath her. She lowered a hand, palmed the stiff fabric of his trousers. He moaned into her mouth, which she took as an invitation. But when her fingers tugged at his waistband, he turned his head, breaking the kiss.
“You don’t…have to,” he gasped. He took a deep breath. “I won’t be able to reciprocate, so—”
“So? I still want to, unless that’s not something you’d enjoy.”
“Oh, no, I definitely would. It’s just…” He sighed. “Sorry, this is a novel concept to me.”
She leaned back, sinking onto his lap. “What do you mean?”
He fidgeted with the hem of her blouse as he avoided meeting her eye. “In my experience, what I wanted always came secondary. On occasion…it was never even a consideration.”
Her fingers brushed his cheek while her heart ached for him. He continued to look away, as if embarrassed by his confession, and her heart wrenched even more. Though she couldn’t rectify the past, she could see to his desires in the present—and in the future.
“I promise, pleasuring you will be a pleasure in and of itself.” She lowered her lips to his ear and whispered, “So, tell me what you want.”
For a moment, the only sound was his heavy breathing, coupled with his pounding heartbeat.
“I want you…” He hesitated, wet his lips. “Ineedyou to touch me.” Though it came out as a whisper, she was close enough that his voice reverberated through her.
She readjusted her position to watch his face as she slipped her hands between their bodies again. Desire had darkened his eyes to the deepest black, and his gaze remained fixed on hers as sheslowly unbuttoned his trousers. His lips parted as she loosened the final button, freeing his erection. She trailed her fingers down his length, relishing the smooth skin and the firmness that lay beneath it. With a gasp, he closed his eyes and tilted his head back. She curled her fingers around him, and a low groan resonated from his throat. The sound was undeniably his voice, but so heavy, so sensual, that a wave of warm arousal rippled through her own body.
“Like this?” she whispered as her fingers returned upward.
A nod was all he could manage; words now seemed beyond him. With the pad of her thumb, she drew small, slow circles against his tip. A ragged gasp urged her to keep going. Meanwhile, his hands slipped beneath the hem of her blouse. She shivered as his fingers skimmed her bare skin, sighed as he cupped her breasts, moaned as he stroked her firm nipples.
They continued this intimate exploration of skin against skin, saying through touch what words alone could not convey. Their breaths converged, their sighs echoed through the room before culminating in a visceral moan as her touch brought him over the edge. His body shuddered as he pulled her close, buried his face in the crook of her neck. Though he didn’t speak, the hot tears against her skin told her that he’d experienced not just a release butcatharsis.
Later that night, as she drifted off to sleep—no longer alone on the sofa but in his bed, wrapped in his arms—she thought of how none of this felt temporary. How she was no longertryingto build a new life for herself.
At last, she’d found something permanent.
Thirty-Seven
Their presentation was the day after final exams, and so the University of Leyport’s campus was warded off to everyone but faculty. Mavery waited for Alain by the gate, feeling a bit anxious. The presentation had nothing to do with it; she and Alain had run through it countless times over the past five days. Nor did her new dress; it fit her like a glove. Rather, her discomfort came from the strong magic thrumming against her skin.
The gate was enshrouded with hundreds of thin silver ley lines threaded around the blue cords of the protective ward. Never had she seen so many augmentations tied to a single spell; she assumed each ley line corresponded with a faculty member who was allowed passage. Beyond the warding magic was a scarlet aura—a fabrication spell that Mavery assumed powered the gate itself. The air was thick with a scent she could only describe as burning metal.
Footsteps approached. She turned to find a well-dressed man walking down the sidewalk. When he came a few steps closer, her breath hitched upon realizing that well-dressed man was Alain. For once, he was wearing clothes that fit him properly: a black dinner jacket with an ivory cravat tucked into a matching waistcoat. The style was a little old-fashioned, and the satchel over his left shoulder certainly clashed with it, but this was the most put-together she’d ever seen him.
Tucked under one arm, he carried the leatherbound spell tome he’d picked up from the bookbinder’s while Mavery was at the boutique, picking up her dress. He stopped a few paces from her and froze as he took her in from head to toe. As his gaze lingered where the bodice accentuated her hips and waist, he also seemed to momentarily forget how to breathe.
“Gods, you’re stunning,” he sighed.
“You can thank your mother for that,” Mavery said as warmth flooded through her.
“It’s not just the dress,” he said. “I thought you were stunning from the moment we first met.”
“Really?” She raised her eyebrows. “Even when I was covered in dirt and bloodstains?”
“Yes, even when you were…” He blinked. “That wasblood?”
“I’d been shot only a few days prior, remember?”
“Right, of course,” he said with a nervous laugh. “Well, dirt and blood aside, my initial thought was that Declan had played some sort of prank on me, that he’d sent you to lure me out of my cave after his own attempts had failed.”
Mavery smiled as she wondered what antics he and Declan had gotten into before his long sabbatical. She assumed most of those had been one-sided.
“You look quite dashing yourself,” she said.
