Chapter 42
Forty-Two
Galileo
The Arcanaeum is bustling with patrons. Half of them are students; the other half are nosy bastards. We’ve been open for four days now, and their curiosity hasn’t waned.
North, Eddy, Lambert, Pierce, and Jasper are all enduring their last lecture of the day. I almost joined them this morning before I remembered that, technically, I’ve graduated.
I only really joined the class in the first place because I knew that Lambert would fail the year again without someone there to keep him on track.
It’s probably a good thing he has North, Jasper, and Eddy for that now.
Helping in the Arcanaeum is keeping me busy. Ever since patrons were allowed back in, they’ve been testing the rules. Word has spread that the Library was damaged by whatever Mathias did to it, and now everyone is pushing boundaries.
Kyrith told us to restrict ourselves to just bashing rule-breakers with books until they cut it out, but I swear, if I catch one more eejit lighting up in the bathroom…
Urgh. I can’t wait for closing time. There are only a few minutes left, but it feels like a lifetime.
“You need to wake up,” I tell the shelves, talking out loud to the slumbering Library for the dozenth time. “We can’t keep doing this without you.”
Probably stupid to be talking to a building that’s as good as dead, but at this point I’ll try anything.
I know the plan is to let people get away with some stuff, to slowly reintroduce the cracks to Kyrith’s ghostly illusion and play up the tales of weakness.
But some things—like fire—are too dangerous to let slide.
One of the magisters was smoking a stars-damned pipe for feck’s sake.
Kyrith had to banish someone for trying to steal a stack of books earlier.
At least it proved that she can if she needs to, but it’s a stress she doesn’t want to put on the dagger.
None of us want her using it if she doesn’t have to, given that the damned thing has started burning her whenever it needs more power to open the damned doors.
She doesn’t complain. That makes it worse. Every night, I watch her lower herself onto the sofa and examine the damage to her thigh. Jasper is always there to patch her up, but the look on his face when he does tells me exactly how fecking bad it is.
I check my phone. One minute until closing.
Close enough.
Opening my grimoire, I use a manipulation spell to flip shut the books on the table on my left, and then another to dim the lights in the booth opposite.
The students studying there grumble but start packing away.
It’s weird to mimic the Arcanaeum, having been on the receiving end of its nudges so many times before.
“Done?” North asks, dropping his invisibility spell as we meet in the middle of the corridor a few minutes later.
“Done.” I slump into the nearest chair with a groan, waiting for the now-familiar wave of pink light to appear.
It’s a spell Kyrith designed. It works by detecting the bacteria that live exclusively on our skin.
Anyone with a brain would hide their magical signature and use an invisibility spell if they were attempting to stay after closing.
Fortunately, most people don’t think to hide the germs that have hitched along for the ride.
So we catch the two idiots making out in a closet and the magister who’s fallen asleep in a corner.
“I’m getting tired of this shit,” North complains once we’ve swept the first floor.
Yeah. I can only imagine how Kyrith must feel. We’ve been doing this for four days, and already it feels like four years.
“Thank feck she decided to close on weekends.”
“We still on for tonight?” he checks.
Despite my tiredness, I nod. “Do you think…?”
“She’ll love it.” North grins. “I get why you’re nervous, though.
I thought she’d put me on my ass the first time, but underneath all of those prickles is a delightful brat with a pain kink.
She’s…” His face flashes between a dozen expressions all at once.
Softness. Adoration. Amusement. Lust. “She’s perfect. ”
Far from reassuring me, his words make my mouth twist.
While her enjoying pain is a significant step, I don’t often enjoy the battle of wits that comes with the kind of dynamic they share.
What I delight in, what I need, is a partner who lets me lead.
A soft, submissive Kyrith who can trust me to bring her to the heights of pleasure and eagerly obey orders.
It seems impossible for her to be North’s brat, Jasper’s Domme, and my good girl all at once. Before, I was so certain that we’d work. Her kneeling at my feet, the way she let me rest my hand in her hair. They all felt like signs that she was made for me.
Now, on the edge of finally fulfilling all the fantasies I’ve held for so long, the butterflies are staging a full-on riot in my stomach.
Have I ever been this nervous before?
North’s expression turns thoughtful.
“What?” I prompt.
He shrugs. “Nothing.”
I’m not Lambert to pull it out of him, but this time it’s pretty fecking evident what’s got his knickers in a twist. “You’re in love with her. Is that going to be a problem?”
He’s shared her with Lambert and Jasper in the past. If his feelings entering the mix has changed things, then that’s something we should talk about.
North’s eyes widen. The hand that was rubbing the back of his neck freezes as he searches the empty hallway like he’s checking it for witnesses. “No. No problem…” A heavy pause. “It’s not obvious, is it?”
I snort. “Only to anyone with eyes.”
His quiet groan makes my lip quirk. “Well, don’t tell her that, will you? I only ticked the sex box on her contract, and now…”
“Now you’re trying to figure out how to tell her?”
We make it to the parapet, but he stops as soon as we’re outside. “I kind of only worked it out for myself when she told me I might be stuck in the Library for the rest of all time and I didn’t hate the idea.”
“You don’t even like reading.”
“Exactly.” He groans. “But there’s a TV now, and I figure Eddy’s probably going to visit Kyrith every day for the rest of her life anyway. I can ask her to add a garage to the place, eventually.”
“You’ve really thought this out.”
He makes a face. “Yeah. Well…”
I sigh. “I suppose there’s no reason that the parriarchy can’t be run from the Arcanaeum… I’d want to transfer it over to my heir, eventually. Or hell, I’ve been debating bringing up a few changes with Dakari and Jasper now that I’ve got the title.”
The leadership of our people should be more collaborative and democratic than it is, with safeguards to prevent another Isidora or Mathias taking over.
With all the liminals and intermarrying between families, who can really say they’re only an ó Rinn or a McKinley?
It should be all six parriarchs working together to govern everyone.
If I were rector…
I blink. My thoughts rushing to a screaming halt.
Isidora is dead. North is next in line to be rector, but he’s not parriarch yet. Has there ever been an instance of a vicegerent becoming rector before? Whether there has been or not, Mathias has claimed the title.
When he’s dead—if we manage to kill him—the next house in the cycle is…
ó Rinn.
Rector.
No way.
Someone would’ve mentioned something. I’ve got to be overthinking this. Surely North will just take the position next. He’ll probably struggle, but Kyrith and Eddy have his back.
Somewhere in the middle of my mental crisis, we resumed walking. Before I know it, I’m staring across the kitchen island at Kyrith as Pierce lifts her onto the sideboard next to whatever he’s cooking and kisses her smiling face.
It’s probably the sweetest I’ve ever seen him act with anyone, and when Lambert meets my confused stare, he points at the two of them and gives me the biggest, shit-eating grin.
Of course, he would find the idea of Pierce Carlton falling head over heels to be entertainment-worthy. Honestly, I do as well. It’s even funnier because she’s a liminal, and his family are some of the biggest adept-supremacists out there.
I keep quiet as he serves our food, watching Kyrith’s face for any indication that she might not be in the mood for what I have planned.
Is it cowardly to start while she’s asleep in her bed?
Maybe.
But hours later, as I tie the blindfold around her sleeping face, I can’t bring myself to care.
“Be gentle with her,” Lambert whispers, slipping down the stairs.
I nod, praying he doesn’t miraculously develop x-ray vision when he glances at the bag at my feet.
I have no intention of being gentle.
That doesn’t mean I won’t be careful, but my kind of care involves kissing her ankles as I bind them to the spreader bar. I’m cautious not to wake her as I lift her wrists and cuff them to the headboard. She’s a heavy sleeper, but I don’t want to ruin the surprise before everything is ready.
I give North strict instructions to watch for any signs that her bindings are too tight or constricting her blood flow, then step back to admire my own work.
At the sight of her bound and naked on the sheets, something in me settles. The nerves from earlier burn away, replaced with rightness.
I don’t need to second guess myself. I don’t need to be gentle like Lambert.
Kyrie has him for that.
I toy with the idea of a gag, but decide against it, dropping the rubber ball back into my bag of toys.
We haven’t discussed non-verbal safe words. Besides, this might be the only time she lets me do this. I want to hear her sobbing and pleading with me. Her contract didn’t cover the use of cameras, or I’d record our first time too. Make her watch it back with me while kneeling at my feet.
Later. All of that will come in good time.
Pressing one knee onto the mattress, I trace the line of Dakari’s necklace with one finger.
My collar is going around her neck the moment she forgives me.
I stroke her lips, tracing the line of them.
Her breathing speeds up, and she leans into my palm, though I doubt she’s fully conscious yet. If we’d been doing this for a while, I might wake her with my cock in her mouth, but she literally agreed to this a few days ago. We’re starting small.
Tying her up while she sleeps is a good first step. North admitted he’s already done something similar, so I’m hoping she’ll react well.
“Wake up, Kyrie,” I croon softly by her ear. “It’s time.”
The soft gasp as she tries to lower her arms and finds them trapped is ripped straight from my fantasies. The way her breasts jiggle as she rocks in her bonds is perfection.
I reach down and slap one, just to preserve the image for a little longer.
“Leo.” My name holds a plaintive note of complaint.
I slap her other breast in reprimand. Hard. The sharp crack resonates through the room as the rosy points of her nipples pebble in protest.
I pinch one, testing how much force she’ll let me use.
She cries out, and I want to bottle the sound.
No fantasy of mine has ever been this good. Her breasts literally overflow my hands as I cup them, soft and plump and just starting to turn the most delicate shade of pink from my attentions. I release her, retreating to my bag as I watch her pretty tits rise and fall with each shaky breath.
“When you’re like this, the word you’re looking for is ‘Sir,’” I correct.
“Sorry, Sir,” she answers, her lower lip jutting out.
North makes a little noise in the back of his throat, and I turn back to raise a brow at him.
He shrugs. “She’s always a brat about that with me. Should’ve known she’d behave for you.”
In the corner of my eye, I watch the lines around Kyrith’s mouth even out at the sound of his voice.
She doesn’t trust me to keep my promises, but I’m fixing that.
“What’s your safe word?” I ask, reaching out to trail a single finger up the inside of one of her thighs.
The muscles clench, but she’s spread open for me. Silken and vulnerable and mine.
For this moment, at least.
“Red to stop and yellow to slow down.”
I knew that already, thanks to the contract, but I reward her by stroking higher still, tracing the seam of her pussy, stopping just above the bundle of nerve endings that’s already swollen and begging for my touch.
She’s gorgeous and dripping. I want nothing more than to kneel between her legs and feast.
Maybe later.
I have a plan.
Kyrith digs her heels into the mattress, lifting her hips in an attempt to force my touch downwards. I back away, and the noise that tears from her is thin and tormented.
North tuts under his breath. “Bratting already?”
I smirk, reaching down into the bag and pulling out my toys one by one, laying them on the bed. Kyrie’s senses have to be working overtime while her sight is cut off, so I let them chink against one another.
“It’s her first time. Maybe I should go easy on her.”
As I say it, I lift a pair of tiny adjustable clamps from the pile of toys, my eyes still caught on her pretty breasts.
I’ve wanted to decorate them since I first saw them almost spilling out of her corset. I’m not wasting this opportunity. I have a set of clover clamps up in my room with her name on them, but I’m waiting to see how she takes to these first.
North grins, like he’s reading my thoughts. “She’s a pretty little pain slut. Trust me, she can take it.”
Kyrith bites her lip, and I free the abused flesh with my thumb, groaning under my breath as her tongue darts out to taste me.
Little tease. Fortunately, I can work one handed.
The first clamp flicks closed over her breast, and air whooshes out of her in a rush. I take the opportunity, pressing my thumb deeper into her mouth. She sucks on the digit, her breath coming in shallow little pants as the pain settles.
Hot. Wet. Writhing. The ultimate tease.
I chuck the other clamp at North and reach out, soothing the furrow in her brow with a soft shushing noise. He’s silent as he takes up position on her other side, then snaps it closed around her free nipple.
This time she cries out against my hand.
“You look gorgeous like this, Kyrie.” I sweep a strand of hair out of her face and step back to admire the view.
Such a work of art.
This time, I let myself cup her pussy, sliding my middle finger inside her as I do. Scorching, soaked flesh engulfs me. Suddenly, promising her I wouldn’t come seems like the stupidest bargain I’ve ever made.
If her mouth was hot and wet, her cunt is even sweeter.
If I ever sink inside of her, I’m done for.
Good job I have North to act as my stand in.
Kyrith starts to tremble as I slowly thrust my finger in and out of her, the movement setting off the clamps on her breasts. I graze my thumb over her clit, once, then twice.
The tiny nubbin swells, eager for my touch.
Pulling back, I lick the salty sweetness of her from my hand, then pick up the final clamp and prepare to watch the fireworks.