Chapter 37
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Aurelia
C rouched between my splayed legs, Lorenzo stares at me blankly for the space of a heartbeat. As my meaning must sink in, his eyes widen, his pupils dilating with desire.
But he hasn’t moved yet.
I curl my fingers at the edge of his jaw and give the slightest tug. “Come with me.”
With a strangled noise, the prince surges up over my body. His mouth crashes into mine. My musky flavor lingers there, strange but a reminder of the adoration he’s already shown me.
His head bows over mine with a panted breath as he yanks at his trousers. I squirm completely free of my drawers with help from his guiding hand.
The head of his cock strokes from my clit to my slick opening, and a desperate growl reverberates from my throat .
As he lines himself up, Lorenzo braces himself on one elbow, gazing down at me. His handsome face has never looked more intense.
With his first press into me, his lips part with a stuttered breath. He eases himself into me inch by torturous inch, charting every flutter of my eyelids, every soft, needy sound that escapes me. A flush brings a russet hue to his dark cheeks.
It occurs to me that he must think this is my first time. That’s why he’s being so very careful when every particle of my body is clamoring for him to drive home, to fill me to the brim.
Maybe it’s wisest not to challenge that assumption. Would he think differently of me if he knew how I once loved and lost before I ended up here?
I want to treasure every second of this encounter, not rush it toward its end.
When he’s pushed all the way into me, the delicious stretch of penetration radiating bliss from my core, he simply holds there for a moment. A brilliant smile curves his lips, and my heart skips a beat in answer.
For just this instant, I am his and he is mine. It will always have been so, no matter what happens afterward.
No matter who else I have to give myself to.
I run my fingers over his hair, and he ducks his head to capture my mouth. Then, with a rasp of heated breath over my lips, he bucks even deeper into me.
Pleasure flares through my nerves all the way to the tips of my toes. I gasp and lift my knees to welcome him.
Lorenzo tucks one hand beneath my ass to help me arch into his movements. With each thrust, his mouth brands my cheek, my jaw, my neck. When I dig my fingers into his shoulder, a groan tumbles out of him .
His hard length strokes against a particularly delightful spot inside me, and I shudder with the impact. “Right there. So good.”
At my encouragement, he picks up his pace, hitting his mark again and again. With each wave of pleasure, I clutch him harder. The urgent pant of his breaths makes me even giddier.
We rock together faster, wilder, his teeth grazing my shoulder, my fingernails nicking his back through his shirt. I curl up to meet him, seeking out his lips through the rush of bliss.
Our mouths scrape together, almost frantic. He plunges into me at just the right angle, squeezing my ass, and the building pressure bursts.
My head tips back, my vision blurring. The wave of ecstasy sweeps through me, shaking me down to my bones.
Lorenzo lets out another groan, his hips jerking. I feel the moment he joins me in release with the clamp of his arm hugging me to him and the ebbing of his thrusts.
We lie there entwined for several breaths, the prince’s face tucked close to mine, every exhalation stirring the hair bunched by my neck. He kisses my cheek, ever so tenderly.
And I hear a resonant baritone voice as clearly as if it’s speaking right into my ear. “I wish we could have done this forever.”
I flinch in surprise. Lorenzo lifts his head, his hands against the sides of my face. “It’s all right, Aurelia. It’s me.”
He’s smiling at me, soft and secretive, but his mouth hasn’t opened.
I stare at him, my mind whirling. “I—I don’t understand?—”
His lips move with his next words. “Is it easier for you like this? It's my gift. I can conjure illusions—the impression of divinely impressive music, or a voice... or just about anything. To a limit."
I realize I'm gaping and collect my jaw. "But the emperor—everyone—they all talk as if it's just the music."
Lorenzo's smile goes crooked before he speaks—no, appears to speak—again. "No one knows except Bastien, Raul, and Neven. It's... better if nobody finds out how much I'm capable of."
Despite my stunned state, that part of his explanation makes sense. I can only imagine how else Tarquin might exploit the supposedly mute prince if he knew.
Even Fausta with her much smaller gift with illusions was able to use it as a formidable weapon.
Something about the voice he’s conjured isn't totally alien to me. A sense of recognition seeps through my mind. "I think... I think I heard you before, just for a moment or two, when I was sick."
"That's not totally surprising. I was so worried about you, I wasn't concentrating well. I don't normally speak this way to my foster brothers when anyone else is around, just in case my focus slips or one of Tarquin's guards notices I'm using magic."
I hesitate, dizzied by the shock and the surge of pleasure I'm still coming down from. "Why are you telling me now?"
Lorenzo lets out a choked sort of chuckle that I think is real and adjusts his position over me. With impressive grace, he sits up and scoops me onto his lap.
Wrapping his arms around me, he dips his head so his chin rests against my temple. "There have been so many things I've wanted to say to you—properly, not with waves of my hands and a few words scrawled on a paper. You opened yourself up to me so much. I couldn't keep hiding this part of me from you."
A lump fills my throat, awe and anguish combined. He's trusting me with this immense secret, putting so much of his fate in my hands. Have I really offered him that much trust?
Can I ever?
The longing wells up inside me to tell him every trouble that's ever weighed on me. I swallow it down.
It's not just my fate that could hang in the balance but that of every person back in Accasy.
As the pieces of Lorenzo's story and my memories of what I've seen during my time in the palace gradually combine, a different realization hits me.
"No wonder it takes so much out of you, performing for the court. You're not using your gift on yourself to heighten your music. You have to cast the illusion over everyone in the room who's listening."
I feel Lorenzo's wince. "It can be a strain. "
I turn my head to look up at him, struck by a sudden urgency. "When you’re speaking to me, you can keep it to just a voice. You don't need to make it look as if you're actually talking. That must take more out of you."
Lorenzo's breath hitches, and then he's hugging me even tighter against him. "Gods, every time I think I already know just how wonderful you are, you show me even more. How could I not fall in love with you?"
My whole body goes still. His last words resonate through my body in time with the heady thumping of my pulse. "Lorenzo..."
"I know. I know it can't go anywhere beyond this. But it's true. You should know. You should hear it from someone who means it."
The tears that nipped at my eyes earlier spill over without warning. At my smothered sob, Lorenzo cups my face and peers into my eyes. "I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to rub your situation in. If I could get you out of this ? — "
"It's okay," I say, getting my emotions under control. I swipe at my eyes. He doesn't even really know why I'm crying.
My choices brought us here. I don't know if I've made everything even harder for myself or if this will be one glimmer of joy I can hold on to for strength through the days ahead.
"I won't be able to talk to you like this very often, " Lorenzo says in an apologetic tone. "Like I said, I avoid it when anyone else is around. And sometimes it's easier even in private to stick to gestures if I can. If I don't need to extend my gift."
Because he never knows when Tarquin might decide to run him ragged. The image of him collapsing in the hall of entertainments the other night wavers through my head.
I lean closer to him again, soaking up the warmth of his muscular frame. "I understand. Thank you for sharing it with me at all." My mind keeps whirring, and another possibility occurs to me. "The other princes—their gifts?—"
Lorenzo's conjured voice turns wry. "I'll have to leave it up to them whether they want to share secrets of their own."
"Fair enough." What else might Bastien be capable of beyond summoning and dismissing rain clouds? Can Raul see more than just what's within people's clothing?
Lorenzo’s mind has turned to other relevant matters. “I have a supply of mirewort—but I haven’t been taking it myself. No need. I’ll get it to you before there’s any risk.”
Of pregnancy, he means. The herb can only act as a contraceptive for the man if it’s taken before the act.
I nod, deciding it’s better not to mention that I’m already taking regular doses. I have no intention of bearing Marclinus any children until I’m good and ready.
But that’s hardly a typical attitude for any would-be-wife to take .
A sudden burst of laughter filters through the door. My head jerks toward it, my pulse stuttering.
We have much more immediate concerns.
I shift my weight on Lorenzo’s lap reluctantly. "You should probably go as soon as the hall is clear. If one of my maids comes back early before luncheon..."
Lorenzo nuzzles my hair. "We must have at least an hour before anyone even thinks of lunch."
"But if anyone sees you..."
"We'll hear the lock." He pauses. "I can go out the other way."
The way the princes have stolen into my locked room more than once? I twist around to raise my eyebrows at him. "Are you going to reveal that secret?"
His pleased smile takes him from handsome to absolutely breathtaking. "I suppose it's only fair. There are passages in the walls that connect the servants' area to a handful of the most prominent bedchambers in the palace—from some time ago when the highest ranking nobles wanted to be attended to as promptly and discreetly as possible. They were theoretically closed up before we ever arrived here, but we stumbled on one entrance in an unused bedroom down the hall from ours, found our way in, and made them our own."
Lorenzo points to the wall next to my bed. "The wallpaper blends in perfectly, but it's right there. If anyone comes, I'll vanish in an instant. If I absolutely have to, I can hide behind an illusion for additional cover."
At his assurances, my stance relaxes. I narrow my eyes at him. "I would prefer if from now on you all at least knock before barging in."
"As you deserve. I'm sorry we invaded your privacy before."
"I think that's really more on Raul and Bastien to apologize for. "
"And I look forward to hearing you tell them so." He strokes his thumb over my cheek, setting off new tingles that race through me. "Do you want me to go, Rell?"
Hearing him grant me that nickname gives me a thrill I hadn't anticipated. I can't deny the answer that clangs through every particle of my body. "No."
As I turn my face toward him again, he catches my chin and lowers his mouth to claim a kiss. It carries on, lingering and sweet, until I'm aching in all sorts of ways.
"What would you like, Princess?"
My mind is still rattled from everything that's happened today, but a longing rises up in me too swift and strong for me to ignore it.
Why not? Why deny myself anything from this moment now that I’ve embraced it?
I turn in Lorenzo's arms so I can kiss him more firmly. Then I say, my voice little more than a whisper, "I want you to take me to the bed, strip off all my clothes, and make love to me as if we're the ones getting married."
His face lights up with so much affection I lose my breath.
Taking my hand, he stands and draws me upright with him. My skirt falls back around my legs. My drawers lie in a puddle by my feet.
Lorenzo kicks his loosened trousers the rest of the way off. He walks me over to the bed, his eager gaze never leaving me.
When we’ve reached it, he peels my gown off over my head. He takes in my mostly bared body and pauses over my forearms.
Lifting my hand, he presses a gentle kiss to the smattering of purple scars below my wrist. “You never need to hide these from me. They’re as beautiful as the rest of you. ”
He grasps my chemise next. I find that standing nude before him is a totally different experience from the nakedness Marclinus forced on me.
There’s only one pair of eyes watching me now, with nothing but admiration.
I grip the hem of Lorenzo’s shirt. His smile widens as we tug it off together.
Now it’s my turn to admire his sculpted form, not as massive as Raul but impressive in his own right. In the middle of his chest, his brand of Inganne’s sigil stands out slightly paler than his rich brown skin.
As I run my fingers down those muscular plains, Lorenzo closes his eyes with a shaky breath. Then he sweeps me off my feet and deposits me in the middle of the bed.
Clambering after me, he beams with fond amusement. “Our wedding day, is it?”
The room around me shimmers. Pale pink fabric drapes across the canopy frame—the color of Ardone, the godlen of love who oversees weddings. Matching roses, her symbolic flower, bloom along the head and footboard. The posts jut out into the shapes of elegant swans.
An awed giggle tumbles out of me. With his gift, he’s painted a picture of a bedchamber decorated for an elaborate wedding celebration.
Lorenzo lowers his head to bring his lips to mine. As he caresses my body unhindered and I continue exploring his, a pinching sensation deep in my gut pierces through the dreaminess of the moment.
It is only a dream. Perhaps Marclinus will arrange a bedroom like this for our wedding night, should I make it that far, but there’ll be nothing loving about the act we commit in it .
I may never again feel this cherished or so cherishing in return.
But I might have never gotten it at all. So I sink into the waves of affection and desire, bottling every sensation deep inside me.
I can lock away this new precious secret and keep it to the end of my days. It doesn’t need to be more than one brilliant moment to still matter.