Page 77 of Of Storm and Emerald
One that Auraelia wouldn’t have traded for the world.
As the day turned to night, the sky began to clear. Giving way to the stars, and the bright white light of the moon.
Piper had fallen asleep on the settee, her open book dangling by her fingers over the floor. Slipping from her chair, Auraelia pulled a blanket over her friend’s sleeping form, then carefully removed the book from her fingers–slipping a sprig of lavender between the pages to mark her spot before setting it down on the table.
Between romance novels, and a heavy wine buzz, Daemon’s letter had been coursing through her head all evening. And with Piper finally asleep, she needed to do something about it. Carefully, Auraelia grabbed her stationary from the drawer in her table and stumbled into her room.
Closing the door softly behind her, she smirked. Time to herself, and a buzz from liquid courage, was exactly what she needed to write Daemon back.
Two can play this game indeed.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Daemon
Thescentofdriedlavender permeated the air, seeping into his slowly waking consciousness. Daemon rolled onto his side, facing the middle of his bed, mindlessly stretching out his arm as he searched for the warm body that wasn’t there.
Searched for the soft and supple curves that his mind and heart associated with that smell.
When he was met with nothing but cold, empty space, he begrudgingly cracked his eyes, and a saddened sigh slipped through barely parted lips.
Ever so slowly, he let his eyes fully open, taking in the early morning light that filtered into his chambers from underneath the door. When they finally focused, he noticed the folded parchment that rested on the pillow next to his.
A lavender sprig pressed under sea green wax stared back at him.
He sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes, then grabbed the small, folded letter.
It lacked her usual tidy perfection. The lavender that was always set just so was off kilter, and barely secured by the seal. The wax that always made a perfect circle was large and misshapen. Like it had been poured on haphazardly before she pressed her signet into the warm liquid.
He chuckled to himself.What in the hell?
This was a side of Auraelia that he hadn’t seen yet. She was always so put together, so sharp witted and concise. This…this was new. Different.
Endearing.
This was the chaos in her beauty.
Unfolding the letter, he soon realized thewhybehind the chaos.
Fuck!
Daemon’s cock throbbed.
Her words painted a perfect picture in his mind that would stay with him for years to come. Auraelia splayed out on her bed, a golden halo of waves surrounding her head as her soft, sculpted, body glistened under the glow of the lamp light. A beautiful pink flush to her tanned skin. The sound of her moans and his name on her lips as she rode her fingers to release.
Daemon sent shadows skittering across the space, flipping the locks on the doors.
He slipped his hand beneath the thin satin sheet on his bed and gripped his cock. Swollen with need and begging for release, he read her letter over and over. Letting the images play on a loop in his mind while he worked toward his climax.
Temporarily sated, he slipped from his bed and padded into his bathroom to shower. There he was bombarded with vivid imagery of Auraelia riding his cock in the tub the night of her coronation.
Fucking goddess.
Daemon groaned in frustration as he switched the shower to cold. Hoping he could freeze out the beautiful torment that was his memories. He dressed quickly and headed into his study.
She was good at this game of theirs, but he was determined to be better.
Sitting at his desk, he secured parchment and quill, penned his response and sent it off.
