Chapter 14
“Ihave two choices for you,” I say slowly, opening the wrapping and showing him the plain white dress shirt.
The accompanying black vest has shimmering gold embroidery along the sides and ties tightly in the back like a corset.
With its matching boots, this will go with either choice.
“So here is one option. It’s a popular style so you’d fit right in.
” I pass him the vest to examine the intricate threadwork.
“The shirt is very plain,” he says, eyebrows crooking upward.
“Um, yes, it is,” I murmur softly, suddenly feeling warm. The temperature hasn’t changed so it must be me heating up with nerves as we stare at each other.
“Izadella…” He leans forward, just a few inches between our lips. It would be so effortless to brush mine against his. “What color is your gown?” he asks softly, looking at the light shirt, feeling the fine material between his fingers.
“Um…mine is dark green.”
Leon’s shoulders sink a little. “That's my favorite on you.”
He looks up and smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. Too much longing there, a feeling I know too well. Oh, that green, the very shade of my dress, the color I selected months ago.
Because I wanted to match his eyes even if he wasn’t ever going to be here, my own way of sharing shades with him.
He continues, “You said there were other choices?” A hint of hope colors his words.
Love requires bravery, to trust a part of yourself only the other soul can break.
“Yes, yes, I did.” He refuses to break eye contact with me, and I take a deep breath, reminding myself not to be such a coward. “At Hiliyah’s shop, when we were shop—”
He interrupts me, breaking out in a smug smile. “I remember. I told that ass Kole you’ll be wearing green with me.”
I cannot help but laugh. “In Ellova there is a tradition with colors at formal gatherings to show off their partnerships. It applies to any color, not just court colors—”
“Yes…shades,” he teases. “I asked Tavien about it.” He reaches up and pushes a loose strand of hair behind my ear. My cheeks must be pink with the heat of his sweet touch.
His fingers linger for a moment before he cups one side of my face, and I lean into his warm palm. “But I want to hear what it means to you.” He whispers the last bit, eyes soft.
My heart races, the crown responding to the devotion in the caress. The magic flows faster inside me, and the potted flowers on either side of the couch erupt with plants hanging over ceramic edges, plump red strawberries dangling off bright green leaves and twining tiny white buds.
We both stare at the uninvited fruit that hangs merrily above the scattered dirt and, when we turn to face each other, burst out laughing, leaning on each other for support.
Maybe I should be embarrassed that this keeps happening, but his smile when it does is addicting. He knows what it means but thankfully hasn’t mentioned it.
I’m the first to speak when our laughter finally subsides.
“Well, there is a tradition with colors at celebrations. If you have someone that you are with, romantically, you wear clothing cut from the same cloth.” I shrug, trying to downplay its significance in Ellova.
“It’s a way for everyone to know you are spoken for.
Could be early courting or hopes of one day wearing the twin Zemra stones.
The more events you wear color sets together, the further you are in the relationship.
It also means more of my dances would be with you than with anyone else. ”
He smiles at me, earnest and open. “I like the sound of that.”
“And you can decline on my behalf if anyone else wishes to dance with me.”
“Oh, I really like the sound of that.” He laces our fingers together and brings my knuckles to his lips.
My stomach drops. It is an electrifying touch, bringing an ache deep within me. I want his mouth on the curves that my robe barely covers. “It works both ways, you know. I can decline offers you get, too.”
“Is that so? Hmm, I would dearly love to see that.” He moves closer to me. “Izadella, what are you saying?”
My robe falls open over one shoulder as I turn to face him fully. I think he’s going to kiss my face, but he leans to the left and places small, leisurely kisses on the newly exposed skin before moving upward ’til his lips are on my neck.
His warm breath on my skin sends a shiver down my body, and I moan as he speaks again. “Are you asking me? I want to hear you say it.” And with that, he sucks the skin of my neck, teasing only to release it, swirling his tongue over the sweet sting.
“Yes.” My reply is more of a whimper than a word.
“Yes, what?” he says into my skin, and I can feel his smile against the curve of my neck, his hand tangled in my hair.
I know words will surely fail me when I try to speak. “I—that is…if you…would like to match…with me tonight. I had a shirt made…for you. Leon, I—”
At the utterance of his name, we come together, and my body ignites.
Kissing him is sipping on blackberry wine under starlight.
I swing my leg over his, straddling him, and his hands go under my robe as our lips are crushed together, shirts forgotten.
Greedy fingers roam down my body, grabbing for my backside, kneading at the plush flesh he seeks.
His black breeches and my robe are the only fabric between us, and I grind my body against his hardness.
He moans into my mouth at the scorching contact, deepening the kiss.
His lips opens as I slip my tongue in and he meets mine eagerly, claiming.
I rub my fingers over his chest and shoulders, wanting no part of him untouched. He must feel the same as he can’t seem to be still, roaming over my thighs, hips and backside.
I am bare under the robe, but he does not move to touch my throbbing center, instead going to my breasts, cupping them under the fabric firmly and using both thumbs to rub over my nipples.
His lips break from mine as he gazes up at me. He moans, “Izadella.”
Leon grasps both sides of the robe’s opening and yanks them apart, revealing all of me. I push my shoulders back to give him the full view of my breasts.
“Delicious.” He takes me into his mouth, sucking, twirling his tongue over the light brown tip. I moan as my fingers glide through his hair, my hips grinding down hard against him.
I reach down for him, but before I can undo the laces to the formal breeches keeping us apart, the main door opens, and suddenly we are no longer alone.
Even though my back faces the entrance and exposes nothing, Leon draws the two sides of the robe closed, tying the sash together in a hasty knot. I chuckle at the alarm in his eyes and kiss his cheek before I peek over my shoulder.
Tavien lets out a boisterous laugh and immediately heads towards their room, giving us privacy, but not before he winks at me and slides the door shut. I sit back on Leon’s thighs and turn to Nueena, who is grinning at the scene before her.
“Oh, I am telling Giles about this. He’s going to love it,” she says, laughing and leaning against the doorframe.
“You will not!”
Leon narrows his eyes in confusion, looking between the two of us and our identical smirks. “Who exactly is Giles and why precisely does he need to know about this?” he asks in a slightly possessive tone.
I run a hand over his worried brows, smoothing out the jealous expression, a thrill going through me. “He is a painter. Nueena’s saying she’s going to describe what she interrupted and have an oil painting commissioned of the moment she caught us.”
Leon lets out a loud laugh and pulls me close, pressing his lips to my forehead. “Please do, Nu. I would like a copy, too.”
As I cling to him, Leon stands up, taking me with him, and slowly lowers me to the stone floor. He turns me around with my body in front of him, and I’m about to step away, but when he holds me in place, I realize he’s using my body to shield his hardness.
I stifle my laughter.
“While I truly hate to disrupt whatever is happening here, I do trust you both would like to attend this ball?” Nueena asks.
Nodding, I glance over my shoulder and Leon raises one eyebrow while he gives me a mischievous smirk that tells me he wouldn’t mind missing the ball.
But Nueena adds, “Oh, that wasn’t a question. Del is needed tonight.” She feigns a stern look and follows Tavien into their rooms.
“We do need to get ready.” I step away from Leon to hold up both shirts and he grabs for the white one. My heart sinks before he throws it over the small footstool near the table.
“I cannot believe you even brought a white shirt.” He smirks down at me. “I am truly offended.”
My eyes fall to the clear bulge at his waist, the evidence of just how very unoffended he is.
“Yes.” I draw out the word. “It would appear so.”
His lips are curved into a smile as he leans down, pressing them to mine before he whispers, “We are continuing this later, Izadella of the forest.” He gives me a wicked smile and a last chaste kiss before we turn back to our rooms, one of his hands in mine, the other clutching the green shirt.