IX Dago
Dago would be lying if he didn’t admit that he found a strange pleasure in watching Hera’s reaction. She wasn’t good at hiding her emotions. Actually, she was hopeless at it. He could read the truth on her face with such ease that it verged on magic.
But it wasn’t magic. It was a dazzling honesty that Galenos was imbued with to such an extent that she didn’t dare even touch the books from his collection even though she was… she thought she was alone. Her expression when she was fighting with herself was like an illustration in a textbook for morpheuses who wanted to live in the human world but had trouble understanding them. “This expression means a human woman wants something very badly but doesn’t allow herself to reach it for some reason,” would be the caption.
In the version for nightmares, there would be an additional note: “Think how to use it.”
Dago stroked Hera’s hip in a gentle caress, then slowly moved his hand along her figure. He liked the shape his fingers felt through the loose fabric and would love to sate his eyes with it, but it was too early for that. The woman tolerated his touch but didn’t ask for it. There was still more curiosity in her than desire.
He had to change that.
He deliberately moved his hand to her stomach and waited a moment to give them both time to adjust to their deepening intimacy. After all, this situation wasn’t something ordinary for him, either. The thought of holding her in his arms still stirred a conflict in him. Hera Galenos, the embodiment of all virtues, held up as a model since childhood, always so diligent and willing to work… now allowed him to touch her. It was so difficult to believe that he subconsciously waited for the woman to break away and call it all off. The fact that she hadn’t done that yet made him hard.
He moved his hand up to her breasts. He hadn’t considered what Galenos might look like in a blast of passion other than an angry outburst—until he’d heard a suggestion to marry. Now that he had the opportunity to see it with his own eyes, he felt a curiosity so intense that considering their history of rivalry and bickering, it seemed almost perverse.
Almost.
Though he couldn’t see her face clearly, he could feel her chest rising and falling. Her breath was measured. Either his touch didn’t have any impression on her, or it impressed her so much that she used breathing as an anchor for her self-control.
Time to check.
When he covered her right breast with his hand, she stiffened, but this time he didn’t wait for her permission. He started with a gentle massage, which gradually turned into a more possessive caress. Good that the woman was practical and, like most magi going on a short journey in their daimonic form, didn’t consider undergarments to be essential luggage…
Just as he suspected, he sorely liked the shape and weight of his discovery. If he only could see it…
He squeezed her breast harder. Not hard enough to cause her pain, but enough to make it feel more invasive than anything he’d done before. He wanted to see any reaction. He had to know…
A sigh escaped her lips. She must have been more surprised than outraged, however, because she didn’t try to break free. Instead, she leaned harder against the table as if she needed support.
Dago swallowed. He was satisfied with her reaction, but there was a serious risk that if the woman continued acting with such acceptance, he wouldn’t be able to apply the brakes…
He started playing with her nipple as if there wasn’t any danger. The thought that he was literally playing with fire amused him.
He squeezed harder.
The woman leaned forward. From afar, her silhouette could be considered straight, but it was clear to him that she’d just transferred part of the responsibility for keeping this pose to the table.
He slid his left hand to her stomach and moved so close to her that there was nothing separating them apart from the fabric of her dress. Just as he expected, she stiffened, apparently surprised by him moving so boldly. He stiffened too. Contrary to his expectations, the proximity of her body and the flowery smell of her hair worked on him hard.
Well. Taking into account that they were in the middle of talks about marriage, it was a good sign. Now he needed only to know her opinion…
“Now you know that I want you,” he said, gently but suggestively pushing against her with his hips. “But I still don’t know what you want.”
She looked straight ahead, but he knew that she wouldn’t notice if the shelves in front of them suddenly disappeared. They had no meaning for her at the moment. He did.
She licked her lips but didn’t answer, hesitating.
He moved his hand to her other breast. “There is nothing I haven’t seen or heard. You can say or do whatever you want. You don’t need to be afraid that you’ll offend me or that I’ll tell someone. Everything that happens in this castle stays within its walls.”
He squeezed. “Will you tell me what you want?” He stroked her hard nipple with his thumb. “Or should I look further?”
She swallowed, but when she spoke, her voice sounded hoarse anyway.
“Look.”
He grinned. Hearing a challenge from Hera Galenos’s lips? Shocking, indeed.
“As you wish,” he murmured, sliding his left hand lower.
But when his fingers reached the hollow between her legs, she did something he didn’t expect…
“Not through the fabric,” she said softly, almost in a whisper.
…so fast.
Not trying to hide his satisfaction, he repeated, “As you wish.”
An amused smile played at her lips, but as his fingers worked to gather the folds of her dress, it gradually faded away, absorbed by the anticipation of his next move. When he touched her skin, she flinched, but even though her body was stiff with tension, she parted her legs to make access easier for him.
Carefully, he began to trace his fingers over the most intimate part of her body, triggering small movements that the woman was unable to control. Her face flushed, her breathing growing uneven. When he found a particularly sensitive spot and began massaging it, a soft moan escaped her throat, causing the pink on her cheeks to darken even more. She didn’t want to lose control…
…but he was going to take it anyway.
Without stopping the massage, he started playing with her nipple again. She struggled so much with the tension that her whole body began to tremble. Eventually she leaned harder on the table, as if she was running out of strength. By doing this, however, she increased the pressure with which their hips touched, and Dago had to reach for his deepest reserves of self-control to contain his own desires.
One minute more and he would push her on the table. He would lift her dress and plunge into her with one thrust, squeezing her soft, shapely buttocks…
Dago went still. He took a deep breath and cautiously moved away from the woman, letting the folds of her dress fall. When she turned toward him, confused, he held out his left hand, showing fingers glistening with moisture.
“I think,” he said, trying at least to sound controlled, “this might be taken as proof that my touch didn’t repulse you. Am I wrong?”
Judging by her expression, he had thrown her off balance. He suspected that if her face wasn’t already flushed, now there would be an explosion of color. He was tempted to ask what she had expected—or hoped—but he felt it wasn’t the best idea. It was a delicate moment.
When she raised her gaze, he knew she forced herself to do so. She fought with pride and desires. She tried to control her body and emotions…
Her face betrayed all her thoughts. The woman gave him the keys to her weaknesses, and she didn’t even know that. It was sweet .
“You aren’t wrong,” she said.
She looked at him with a dose of shyness, but he also saw vigilance deep in her hazel eyes. He lowered his hand but didn’t change his expression. “So, am I to understand that you agree on my plan and that we will soon start appearing in public places together?”
She lowered her gaze, wrapping the fingers of her hand around her other wrist in a nervous gesture. A long moment passed, but his patience was rewarded.
“Yes,” she said. “I agree to your plan.”