Thirteen Avirin
THIRTEEN
Avirin
Across the drawing room, Cascade converses with her guests. She leans against one of the tables, but her body is still angled toward Lord Riften and Avirin, limbs elongated like an invitation.
Avirin swallows. She wants to cross the space. She wants to approach Cascade. She wants what Lord Riften suggested, but the room feels suddenly like a long gauntlet of uncertainties.
Lord Riften’s fingers brush the small of her back. Not pushing. Not urging. Just a steadying reminder that he’s there.
Resolutely, Avirin starts to move. From the way Cascade’s leaves and branches shift, it’s as if she’s been waiting for Avirin to reappear. “Have you decided to play after all?” she asks in a tone that makes Avirin’s stomach knot.
There’s a secondary meaning to her words, the beginning of a different game that Avirin is starting to understand. “Yes. We’d like a…private table with you, if it’s available.”
Cascade shoots Lord Riften an impressed look, but Avirin can’t see what expression he returns. When Cascade gestures toward an empty table in the far corner, Avirin tries to quell the nerves rioting in her chest.
Lord Riften pulls out a chair for Avirin before he sinks down next to her. Across the table, Cascade reaches into the pocket of her trousers and retrieves a deck of playing cards. “Queen’s Cup?” She twirls one of the cards between her slender fingers. “Will you both be playing this evening?”
Lord Riften rests their arm across the back of Avirin’s chair. “Lady Avirin will hold the cards. I will aid her only if she requires…assistance.”
Cascade gives him a pointed look as she shuffles.
“You’ve been working hard lately,” Lord Riften explains, “keeping everything under control. Lady Avirin knows a bit about that.” Their lip quirks. “I suspect the two of you could brighten each other’s spirits. I believe you’ll find yourselves complementary…and Selbie agrees.”
Avirin’s toes curl in her shoes. There it is again, an undercurrent to the words that she doesn’t understand. But Lord Riften has not led her astray thus far. Wherever they are taking her, Avirin is certain she wants to go.
Cascade reaches beneath the table to produce a bottle of deep red cider. She pours herself a drink before she pushes the deck of cards across the table toward Avirin. “As our esteemed guest, you may do the honor of dealing.”
Avirin hesitates. “But that puts you at a disadvantage for the game.”
Cascade’s smile is as sticky as sap. “It’ll be worth my while.”
Heat climbs up Avirin’s neck, but she does as she’s told, much to Cascade’s pleasure. Once Avirin has finished dealing, Cascade lifts her cards and runs her eyes over them. “What would you like if you win tonight, Avirin?”
Being called by her given name strikes her, and not in an unwelcome way. “If I win?”
“When a guest enters a private game with me, I aim to give them the prize they’re after.”
A lump forms in Avirin’s throat. She can’t possibly say it. Discussing such activities with Lord Riften is foreign enough, but speaking them to this near-stranger? To suggest what Avirin is truly thinking…
Cascade peers over the tops of her cards. “I do need to hear it from you, Avirin. You might be surprised how amenable I am.”
If you cannot speak the words, I cannot imagine you’re prepared for the act.
Avirin remembers Lord Riften’s words from the first lesson in the alcove.
Has she really failed to make any progress since then?
Her body grows hot with embarrassment. She grips her cards and tries not to crinkle them.
“I mean to procure a husband. To learn how to please him.” It feels foolish speaking it aloud, but she forges ahead, refusing to let the words dam up behind her lips.
“But I don’t yet have the full scope of things.
I hope you’ll teach me. I hope you’ll show me what it entails when a husband lies with his wife. ”
Cascade’s face shifts in surprise. She lowers her hand to get a good look at Avirin. “My, my.”
Avirin tries not to shrink under her gaze, ignoring the heat of Lord Riften watching beside her.
Cascade drums her fingers on the table. “Are you certain it’s a husband you want?”
Avirin’s thoughts go fuzzy with possibilities. “I’m…afraid it has to be.”
Thoughtfully, Cascade purses her lips. “Surely someone closer to you could provide this experience. I wonder why they wouldn’t.”
Lord Riften’s fingers flex near Avirin’s shoulder. His mouth draws tight, eyes never leaving Cascade’s, as if he can’t look at Avirin.
Cascade doesn’t blink. There’s a long moment of tension before understanding crosses her face. She leans back in her chair and returns her attention to Avirin. “I won’t teach you how to please a husband.”
Avirin’s heart sinks.
A wicked smile branches across Cascade’s face.
“But if you win, I will teach you what it’s like — what it should be like — on your first night.
I will show you how a lover takes you to bed.
I will relish you the way a husband should.
” Cascade rests her chin in her hand, eyes sparking. “Does that sound agreeable?”
Avirin’s thighs clamp together before she manages to nod.
Cascade begins discarding and drawing swiftly. “What word would you like to use for safety? One you can speak if you wish for me to stop. If you feel uncomfortable or uncertain.”
Avirin tries to follow the game, but she can hardly keep up with the question, let alone the cards. “— ‘Honey.’ That is the word we use.”
Cascade cuts her eyes toward Lord Riften. He merely smiles. “It was Lady Avirin’s suggestion.”
Cascade hums doubtfully, and in the silence that follows, Avirin realizes it’s her turn. She plays an unimpressive hand.
Cascade moves fluidly through her turn. “There is more to what you’ve asked than mere rutting.” Cascade flips over one of her cards and hones her gaze on Avirin. “It is not one simple act. It requires buildup. Momentum. Escalation.”
Such scientific words feel suddenly sensual. Lord Riften’s fingers begin to move against the back of Avirin’s neck, drawing sultry patterns from her hairline down to the back of her dress.
“It’s your turn, Avirin,” Cascade states.
Avirin jolts out of her reverie, nearly dropping her cards on the floor. She hurries to play her hand, but once she does, she realizes she’s discarded two wildcards.
Cascade fights a smile and snatches them up. “Your husband should prepare you well for your first night together. Or at least, he should have someone do it for him.”
Lord Riften’s fingers wander the neckline of Avirin’s dress, slowing near the front where her breasts perch above the fabric.
Gooseflesh rises on Avirin’s skin, but the fingers continue downward, teasing the embellishments of her bodice.
Those fingers curl into Avirin’s dress, guiding it upward until it bunches around her waist.
Avirin holds her breath for fear of what noise might escape. Though she’s facing a wall and no one else can see, she is exposed in this room full of people. That knowledge is enough to make the coil inside her wind tighter.
Lord Riften’s mouth finds its way to her ear. “Would you like to use your word?” Their fingers trace Avirin’s inner thigh.
Vehemently, she shakes her head.
Cascade smirks. She takes her time aligning her cards into a singular pile before she sets it aside and folds her hands on the table. “I bet you’re ravishing down there, all soft and sweet. Am I correct, Pye?”
Lord Riften lowers the pad of one finger to the bud between Avirin’s legs.
Avirin whines in the back of her throat, and Cascade hums like the sound itself is delicious. “What do you think? Should I take a look?”
Lord Riften circles Avirin slowly.
A moan catches in her teeth, her lip trembling as she grips the side of the table.
With one finger, Cascade drags one of her cards to the edge and flicks it off. It drifts to the floor and lands so silently that Avirin couldn’t hope to hear it over her racing heart.
Then Cascade bends at the waist, turning her head to peer beneath the table.
All the while, Lord Riften keeps working, making Avirin whine when he nudges her legs open. They part with a slick sound the same time Cascade gasps, “Gods, look at you.”
Cascade lingers beneath the table to watch, and Lord Riften slows his pace, taunting and tormenting Avirin. They give her only a hint of what she needs, using Avirin as a prop to push Cascade toward breaking.
That thought makes Avirin quiver. She can’t hold onto her cards any longer, biting back a groan when they slip out of her hands.
“Are you folding?” Lord Riften teases.
“Already?” Cascade sits upright again, her features positively smug. “No matter. I know exactly what I’ll take for my prize.”