Page 32 of The Lord of Whispers

He continued with consistent little flicks of his tongue on the nest of my desire. Pleasure welled within me so quickly it threatened to overpower me. But something nagged at the edge of my subconscious, preventing me from spilling over. Despite the unbelievable pleasure I felt mounting, I also felt incredibly vulnerable laid bare before Jay and understood what he meant about me having to give into him completely.

There was something about the position I found myself in that required me to surrender something more than just my body to him. Each and every time I’d given into him before, I’d told myself that I was just giving in to what my body wanted. But now, I knew he demanded more. He demanded that I let my guard down, that I trust him with more than just my body.

His lapping between my legs intensified, growing longer and heavier, pulling me toward the beckon of my looming orgasm and away from the insecurities in my head. I was approaching the sharp edge of my pleasure. Unable to find anything to grab onto on the table, I dug my hands in my own hair, grasping fistfuls. I admitted that complete and total control was a small price to pay for this lesson. And then his tongue slipped inside of me.

I gave up any and all reservations standing between us, between me and the release building between my thighs. I capitulated to his demands and his incessant licking. I bucked off the table and shattered over his tongue.

He continued to lick at me, and it was too much. I was overwhelmed with the sensation, with the reverberations of my orgasm shooting through me with each pass of his tongue. I tried to maneuver myself out of his grasp, but he didn’t let me. He firmly held my lower body to the table and continued to dart in and out of me and suck at the sensitive apex, causing my release to drag on. Jay didn’t move his mouth from me until, like a wet washcloth wrung dry, he had forced every drop of my orgasm out of me.

I sat there on the top of the table, spent, legs weak but still lightly wrapped around him. He lessened the pressure he used to pin me there and bent down to retrieve my lost heel. It was so small it almost fit within the palm of his hand. He bent, delicately placing it back on my foot. Then he dropped into a graceful crouch, grasping my soaked panties that hung around one of my ankles in one of his hands, and pulled them off and over my heel. Jay gave the inside of my knee a small kiss before standing and placing the dainty undergarment drenched in my scent into his pocket.

“Two,” he said with satisfied finality.

He stared into my eyes as he possessively licked his fingers, covered in evidence of my orgasm. And then, even though I saw his need pressing against his pants, he sat back down in his chair with a finality that let me know that my lesson was done, at least for that moment.

15

Alarie

Iarrived at the library the next day to find a stack of books with a note atop them. I recognized the high lord’s slanted masculine scrawl:

“You will continue working on your lessons while I am away for a few days. Yours, J.”

I reflected on his note. I had every intention of continuing with my studies. I still had to pass the liaison exam. I wasn’t worried about passing the test, but I did have some subjects to brush up on. At my school, they had not taught the history of the High Court in as much detail as I needed to know, and they had not gone into magical theory at all in my prior lessons.

Then I realized the note was referring to myotherlessons, the ones that he so diligently helped me with most days in the library. I recalled his earlier statement:“Even when my duties take me away from the manor, you will come for me.”I set the letter aside, feeling obstinate, and thinking that maybe I wouldn’t continue with that particularlesson.

I was feeling ornery from a combination of my disappointment that the high lord would not be joining me for the day’s lesson and also remembering just how thoroughly and submissively I’d taken the high lord’slessonthe day before. But then I focused in on the “yours” at the end of his note.

If I was being honest with myself, Iwashis. My body was leagues ahead of my mind when it came to being truthful about how I felt about the high lord. My body was ready to give him everything, letting him tell me when and where to do whatever he wanted, and I would love every minute of it. But my mind didn’t want to let him in so completely, to give up my hard-earned independence. It’s not that I didn’t trust him. I did. I just didn’t knowhowto let someone in and give over any of the control I had white-knuckled for so long.

Putting aside the question of whether I would continue with mylessonsas Jay had ordered, I turned to my reading for the day. My lesson focused on the strategy and tactics of warfare. Jay had explained that it was not his intent to ready me for a battlefield but that the High Court was like a battlefield, and he intended to prepare me to strike down our enemies and walk away unscathed.

I got it. In some ways, that’s how I felt about my life leading up to my time at the High Court—it had been a battle. But I had not walked away unscathed, I reflected, thinking of my reluctance to give myself to Jay. The ruthless independence I’d wielded to get to this point in my life had isolated me for years, trapping me in a safe, lonely box of ambition.

As the day wore on and I did not feel the brush of Jay’s leg against mine and there were no breaks in my studies for myotherlessons, I found myself with an unsated warming gathering between my thighs. I refocused on the book before me, chastising myself for my lack of restraint.

* * * *

“How much do you want to bet that Rhett’s already there?” Luke asked as we walked into town that evening. “He avoids the High Court more than any other lord I know, the lucky bastard,” Luke ruminated.

Rhett’s father, High Lord Vincent Rein, ran the estate at the High Court, leaving Rhett free to gallivant about Vlaise doing whatever the young lord pleased. Rhett’s gallivanting usually involved many,manyladies of the Court and drinking in town with Luke, and sometimes me, at Bar Louie. Luke, on the other hand, ran the estate of House Bellamy at the High Court and had his duties as senior counselor to House Vitruvian. Between his two roles, Luke stayed busy and attended nearly every High Court function there was.

It wasn’t that Rhett was lazy—he wasn’t. He was just too damn smart, and too gorgeous, for his own good. He knew exactly when there was something he had to handle himself versus something someone else could do for him. His hands-off approach to managing the affairs of House Rein at the High Court allowed him to have a hands-on approach with the majority of the ladies at the Court. I commended, rather than judged, Rhett for his master skills of delegation.

And although I thought my friend was a devilishly handsome genius, I wasn’t interested in throwing my hat in Rhett’s ring along with all his other lady suitors. He was perfect,tooperfect for my taste. Anyway, there was no way I could compete with the prominence of the ladies who threw themselves at Rhett. Whatever woman Rhett ended up with would likely have credentials sufficient to be the next queen of Valencia.

“Umm, I’ll bet you a beer he hasn’t made it out of whoever’s bed he landed in last night,” I speculated, thinking of how Rhett had departed the night before with an enchanting platinum blonde.

We arrived at Bar Louie. It was busy and the after-lunch crowd was already into their beers.

“Look who it is!” Rhett shouted almost the moment Luke crossed the threshold of the bar.

“Pay up, little girl,” Luke said, always with the short jokes, even though I was wearing my usual four-inch heels.

I walked to the bar, ordered three beers, then headed back to the table where the boys sat. The only time Luke—or Rhett, for that matter—let me pay for anything was if I lost a bet. As a result, I was rather free in making my bets with them. At first, I’d tried to fight them on the issue, insisting I pay my fair share. But Luke would always respond something to the effect of, “When you own your own castle, maybe I’ll let you start picking up a tab or two.”

I didn’t own my own castle, but I was landed. When I’d earned my role as a lady at the High Court, I’d been given a small piece of land somewhere in the south that was supposed to be big enough to build on. I’d never been there and really had no reason to go there. The land was more symbolic than anything—a bit of land to support my title as a lady, since I hadn’t earned that honor through my lineage.

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