Chapter Twelve #4
He led her past the few outside groups chatting in the moonlight, past the adventurous couples seeking privacy, until they reached an expanse of the terrace that lay outside the wall of windows.
No one had ventured this far from the door and artistically sculpted hedges hid them from the rest of the terrace.
A secluded space that shielded them from onlookers.
Light from the ballroom draped the area in a warm glow. The view from this side of the windows was clear and unmarred of the harsh reflection of light. The musicians played just beyond the window from their corner of the ballroom, music carrying faintly through the glass.
Kieran did not release Sera’s hand, instead guiding her into position in front of him. Her cheeks bloomed with heat as their bodies came together with the barest pressure that he sealed with a hand on her hip.
He had seen the form countless times and settled his gaze above her head, not entirely certain of his choice now that it was in front of him. He was not a dancer and he feared he was dangerously close to blushing for the second time in his life. All because of her.
“What’s going on?” she asked, though it was clear in her tone and the sparkle in her eyes she knew exactly what was happening.
Kieran cleared his throat. “I was never taught the proper steps either.” His gaze dipped, but her eager expression and dazzling grin had his eyes darting away again.
“I learned fae dances, not the sort likely to be played in Levity’s ballroom.
However, I have observed enough of these rituals, I believe, to fumble through some of the required motions. If you wish to accompany me.”
There. He said it. He felt oddly ridiculous now, but then, he only had to look at her smile to be reassured that he’d made the right choice.
“Why?” She breathed, her elation shifting to earnest. A mix of emotions tugged him in a million directions.
He lowered his head to face her. “Because it would be unacceptable if you didn’t dance at your first ball.”
The future was unclear. What would she choose when the threat to her inevitably ended? And was it wishful thinking to want to be part of that choice?
Deluded fantasy. Whatever she decided, he would not fault her.
She deserved to make life what she wanted.
He could be content with tonight. It would take awhile, but he would recover.
He recovered from his siblings. Or, rather, he learned to live with the grief.
He would learn to live with the loss of her, too. The loss of possibilities.
Kieran took the first step and she allowed him to lead. It wasn’t perfect. He could sense the missteps, even if he managed to keep his movements fluid enough that Sera hadn’t seemed to notice.
Performing a task that he was not adept at, and in front of someone else, would normally throw him off balance.
Yet as she grinned, her odd bursts of joyous laughter, her sense of fun somehow eased the tension in his shoulders.
He cared less and less about remembering exactly where his feet were supposed to go and instead moved however felt right.
Her glee was infectious, seeping into him until he was… enjoying himself.
He spun her particularly hard, his mouth tipping into a smile when she giggled and threw her head back, clutching him all the harder. He held her tighter, feeling each heavy breath and giggle against his chest.
And just as before, the feel of her against him was enough to drive all other thought from his mind. He lost all sense of time and reason, just basked in her delight and how his body was alive for the first time in years.
He lifted her through more turns, kept his hold firm enough to feel her curves and warmth seep through the layers of clothes.
It was impossible to say when exactly the mood shifted.
Altered. Turned. Perhaps it had been a gradual decline.
But Sera’s eyes grew heavy, darker. She looked up at him through her lashes.
Her bare shoulders rose and fell, the tips of her shoes balanced on his boots. Her lips parted with the softest sigh.
He was going to break another rule. Probably the most important rule.
There was no version of this reality where he did not kiss her.
For a heartbeat, memories of the stolen kiss threatened to unnerve him. His fear of going too far, of losing his Sense for her, held him back even now, when it was likely in vain.
But her eyes closed, her chin tilted, and Sera’s light, impractical shoes pressed just a fraction harder into his boots as she attempted to lift herself closer.
Kieran hadn’t a thought to how he would kiss her. This was not an action borne of calculation. When his lips met hers, all sense of reservation abandoned him. And he was left alone with nothing but his impulses and the incredible sensations burning through his body.
Her mouth parted instantly and some inner part of him that fed on chaos cheered as his tongue swept the exquisite heat of her mouth. This taste had haunted his dreams. The feeling of her lips had lingered like a ghost, plagued his every waking moment, deprived him of reason.
Gods, this was all that he remembered and so much more, because now there was no voice telling him to stop. No voice urging that this was wrong. Only a voice driving him to take, to savor.
His arm still supported her and her skirts made prolonged contact difficult. Kieran meant to stop at her mouth, to simply enjoy this small victory. This was hardly the place to be hiking up her dress.
Her almond scent was already saturated in arousal as he moved from her mouth to draw his lips down her jaw, to her neck, kissing and tasting when he hadn’t dared before. Sera moaned, low and sweet, then she tensed.
“Shit,” she breathed. “I lost alr—”
Kieran stilled her words with a finger. “This is not part of any Game.” He returned to her skin, teasing with lips and tongue until he felt her shiver. “I want to hear you, Seraphina. Every sound. Do not hold back. Please.” He whispered that final word, almost pleading.
She gasped and he could feel the shiver that raced through her body.
He moved his hand to her bodice, drawing a finger along the edge.
Gently, slowly, easing it lower until each perfect breast was freed.
He explored with his hands, alternating palm and fingers until she was mewling softly.
The sound hit him harder than her scent.
Her hands grasped for his pants, fingers fumbling and clumsy as he teased her breasts with his hands.
He walked them backward, guiding her until her back straightened gently against one of the windows.
Stilling her hands, he guided them up, until her fingers clawed fruitlessly at the glass above her head.
“I’m afraid there is a matter of grave concern that must be corrected before we continue.
” He pulled back enough to see her beautiful face flushed with desire.
Half-lidded eyes begged for the promise of his words.
The erotic sight of her pressed into the windows, breasts exposed while the rest of her remained clothed, as courtiers danced unknowingly just beyond the thin glass nearly blindsided him.
He had intended to continue with his seduction, but instead dipped his head to kiss her again. Simply because he had to. Like he had to breathe or eat. He needed to drink in every part of her or he’d never survive till morning.
And without a reason to restrain herself, every delicious sound tumbled recklessly into the heated air. He once again shifted from her mouth to taste lower.
“I’m just not used… oh fuck.” Sera’s voice rasped with need.
Her head rolled to her shoulder as he worked at the taught peaks of each breast in turn until her knees buckled and he had to stop in order to keep her from falling.
He caught her with his arms and body, pinning her to the window.
She locked her arms around him as she got her bearings.
“I’m sorry, it’s just… it’s not usually so focused on me. ”
Heat simmered between them, but his body was drawn to it, rather than repelled. This wasn’t the oppressive warmth of a world that wasn’t designed to accommodate him. This was the heat of connection. Of another person sharing in pleasure for the simple reason of wanting to.
“Then I suppose I have a lot of oversight to correct."
Kieran’s words pooled between her legs. Sera was beyond comprehension, beyond passion, she was so consumed with desire that she was only distantly aware of Kieran drawing up her skirts.
Had she not been hopelessly liquid, she might have tried to help him wrangle the multiple layers into submission, but instead she arched her back against the window and thrilled at every glancing brush of his hands.
The sensation of his fingers on the skin of her thigh made her curse.
She let her arms drag over her body, a sensual massage over her heated, sensitive skin.
She was nearly thrown off balance when he switched positions, careful to steady her legs until she regained her footing.
When her mind caught up to the moment all the breath left her body.
She was facing the window. One of her hands splayed on the pane and her slick palms left marks on the otherwise unmarred crystalline surface.
Her breasts were exposed to the night air, nipples grazing cool glass.
Just beyond the window people danced. Talked.
Shared drinks. The musicians carried on, focused on their sheet music.
Kieran had moved down her body, and she fell further against the glass when he set her thigh on his shoulder, lost in the sea of her skirts.