EPILOGUE #3
“That could be fun,” I said. From the predatorial smirk on Ari’s face, my fake casualness wasn’t fooling him.
“Then allow me,” he whispered, pushing me back onto the bed with one finger.
I fell backward with a gasp. Ari was on me in an instant, straddling me and kissing me.
I opened my mouth without a second thought.
His hands mapped my jawline and neck, as if I were a fragile and precious treasure.
It felt different, being touched by someone I loved.
I was so focused on him that I didn’t get lost in my intrusive thoughts.
Ari kept moving downward, undoing the laces of my dress as he kissed circles on my breasts. Every single bit of skin got sucked. I was half naked and completely breathless when he said, “We were going to try the handcuffs? Where should we put them?”
Ugh, I had to use my brain at a moment like this? I looked around the room. At first glance, I didn’t see a logical place to fasten cuffs. “Hmm, maybe if we loop them around the bedpost?”
“It’s worth a try.” Ari dove back into the box. “She got two sets for different sized wrists. How does she even know my wrist size?”
I groaned, desperate. “I don’t care. Hurry up and get over here.” I cast my dress to the floor. It needed to come off before the cuffs went on. My panties followed.
Ari ran a finger around the handcuffs. “They’re padded and look custom-fit. Let me know right away if they chafe.” He looped the cuffs around the bedpost and then fastened them on my wrists. A look of confusion crossed his face. “How do we do this?”
I understood his dilemma—I was now cuffed to the corner of the bed, rather than the center. “What if I bend over the bed? We haven’t tried that position before. It might be fun.”
“That does sound fun.” Ari cleared his throat. “I mean, bend over for me, wench!”
I dissolved into giggles.
Ari chuckled. “My intimidating act needs work.”
“No, no, you’re doing great.”
“At least I’m confident in my ability to do this.” Ari traced a finger down my bare spine. I shivered in response.
It was an intriguing sensation, yielding to the notion that I was a mere passenger as Ari’s fingers played with my body. No need to think, just feel. I moaned and jerked on the cuffs as he stroked a sweet spot.
“Are you still doing good? Are your arms okay?”
“They’re great,” I groaned through a dry throat. “Hurry up. I’m ready.”
There was a rustle of a condom. Then Ari slid into me.
Grabbing the bedpost, I pushed back, making him gasp. I chuckled.
He leaned down and kissed my bare back. “If you still have the breath to laugh, then I need to try harder.” He thrust again, rubbing me with his finger at the same time. I cried out.
“Good spot?” he whispered.
“Yes. Do that again. Make me lose my mind.”
To my profound relief, he did it again, and again, a slow and steady rhythm.
The pressure became nearly unbearable, a hot press of being filled, intoxicating like the edge of drunkenness.
Each thrust sent starbursts of sensation through my core.
The heat had consumed my entire body. I barely registered the moment when Ari came, because my world had turned white and crackling.
I let myself fall headfirst into the sensation of pleasure.
Overstimulation and exhaustion made my head spin, treading an exquisite line between pleasure and not-quite-pain.
I was still collapsed and breathless when Ari unfastened the handcuffs. He lifted me up and tucked me under the covers. Lying down next to me, he cradled my body close. One hand massaged my wrists. “Still good? Did it bruise?”
“It didn’t hurt my wrists at all. It’s my brain you nearly fucked out.” The post-orgasm mood had loosened my tongue.
He laughed and kissed the top of my head. “Flatterer.”
“Only the truth.”
“You did wonderfully. I can’t wait to see what we can do with the rest of the toys.”
Ugh, would I have to thank my sister for that gift after all? How mortifying. I sighed and nestled deeper into Ari’s shoulder.
He whispered into my hair, “I love you.”
I squirmed around to face him, then kissed him. “I love you,” I said into his mouth.
Ari groaned. “If you keep rubbing against me like that, you’ll rouse me for a round two.”
Adopting a joking tone of my own, I said, “Then I’ll just lie here like this.” I pulled back the blanket and struck a pose on my side with my head in my hand and my hair falling over my neck.
His groan and immediate physical reaction were gratifying. “That’s cheating,” he protested.
“I’m not even touching you,” I said with mock innocence, jiggling my chest.
He fell on me in a flash, kissing me like he wanted to fuck his tongue down my throat.
I grabbed a fistful of hair. Even with both hands, I couldn’t touch everywhere I wanted at once.
I freed my mouth to nip his earlobe. Then I kissed a trail down his neck, planting a hickey on that gorgeous collarbone. Each desperate noise spurred me on.
I curled my tongue around a nipple, teasing out the most fun reactions.
With great reluctance, I kept kissing my way down his chest. I was in the mood to take control.
At this angle, I could see his blown-out eyes and flushed cheeks.
I reveled in finally being able to touch him back.
It felt absolutely perfect, that moment when I took him into my mouth and his pupils dilated.
His butterfly tattoo seemed to flap wings every time he moved; it was intoxicatingly sexy.
I wanted to see my always polished and confident Ari lose control.
Slowly, I slid my lips down and teased until he finally cried out, “Please!” Then I took him all the way.
His thrusts went wild and suddenly neither of us had control, lost in the animalistic pace, until he came so deep I barely tasted it.
Exhausted, I sagged against the side of the bed. Ari tugged me onto the bed alongside him and tucked my head on his arm. Soft adoration filled his gaze as he kissed my forehead.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispered.
When he said it like that, I could believe it.
Ysabel, Kaine, and Alzira stood together in the courtyard. “Last chance to say goodbye,” Kaine said as he summoned shadows around his body.
I hugged my older sister. “Make certain you write frequently. When you’re close to your due date, I’ll come down and help you.”
She hugged me back. “There’s no need to make a fuss, but I’d be glad to have you visit any time.”
“Of course I want to be there for the birth of my first nibling.” I smiled.
Ysabel examined me. “You look rather cheerful this morning.”
I bit my tongue to stop myself from flushing. “It’s a very good morning. Bright and sunny. I’m sad to see you go, of course.”
My sister whispered into my ear, “It’s okay, you don’t need to thank me. The fact that you’re not walking straight tells me everything I need to know.”
Then she teleported away, robbing me of my opportunity to either thank her or kill her.
I’d promised to take Antonia toy shopping as a reward for sitting through another boring coronation. Araceli had a ring that could make people not look directly at us so we could blend in with the crowd and enjoy the day under a cloud of anonymity. Our heavy coats hid our noble clothing.
People bustled down the street full of shops, walking carefully to avoid the ice patches.
The snow had started to melt, running trails to the gutters.
Signs hung over the glass doors. Most of the shops had a second floor above, where the owners usually lived.
Younger entrepreneurs set up temporary stands along the sidewalk to hawk wares.
It was good to see how many more stands had opened up.
Even more so, it was good to see people smiling and carrying flags to celebrate the coronation.
Winter was ending for Arahasnor in more ways than one.
At a street stand, a teenage girl held up a painted gold hairpin with a fake flower on top, shouting, “This is a replica of the pin Lady Bora wore at the royal coronation. Only available here!”
Araceli laughed. “Already? Word travels fast.”
Hats would be out of fashion within the week. My gently evil style of leadership was working.
“I told you that everyone would love your hairpin,” Antonia said, nudging me with the proud grin of someone who’d helped design it.
“It does look great on me.” I smiled at my own reflection in the glass, adjusting my pin slightly. “I tipped off the local hat sellers in advance to start producing a new product.”
Antonia clapped her hands. “You’re a pigeon plucker.”
I choked. “Where did you hear that word?”
“My tutor said that it means a very smart person.”
“It means a scammer.” And it seemed to have entered the upper-class vernacular since I had lied to some of the nobles that it was a compliment, but I decided to make that not my problem.
Antonia giggled. “I’ll remember.” Her gaze latched on to a hobby horse in the window. “I want that!”
I was already reaching for my wallet.
We loaded down the carriage with toys for Antonia, the first ones she got to pick out for herself. She refused to be separated from her new velvet stuffed rabbit.
As I sat down in the carriage, my sock hitched up to reveal the bandage. Brow furrowed, Antonia pointed. “What happened?”
“I got a new tattoo.” I glanced at Araceli. “I think it should be okay to remove the bandage now?”
She smiled and nodded.
I unwrapped my ankle to reveal a small red A.
The stroke through the middle of the A looped to form a heart shape, such that the letter seemed to be sitting half inside the heart.
A tiny crown rested on top of the A. “I got this to remind me of the three most important As in my life: you two, and Arahasnor. This is my promise to protect all three.”
“For me?” Antonia gasped. “Can I touch it?”
“Sure.” I held out my leg.
“It looks cool.” Antonia traced the A, entranced. “Can I get a tattoo?”
“Not until your body is done growing,” Araceli said firmly. “The tattoo would end up stretched funny. Besides, you should take your time to think about what you want, what would be meaningful to you.”
“Aw.” Antonia pouted.
“I can show you how to temporarily paint on your skin.”
“Yay!” Antonia held up her rabbit. “I want a bunny.”
This would definitely scandalize the court, but who cared? They needed some scandal to keep them entertained. And they should count themselves lucky I wasn’t throwing anyone into the dungeon any longer.
I’d thought long and hard about my first tattoo.
It was supposed to symbolize my journey.
I’d considered something related to the Blood Duchess, but although my version of the Blood Duchess had been very important to me, I didn’t like the real Duchess Hedri or want her on my skin.
I’d picked an idea with several layers of meaning so that even if my life’s purpose changed later, it would still be connected to me.
In the end, for me, what I got as a tattoo ended up being less important than having the courage to do something I’d always wanted but never thought suited me.
It was about bravery, and loving my body, and making my body into my own.
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