13. Cora
Cora
I thought I’d known dread and frustration. Surely, I thought, there could be nothing worse than the decision to leave my balcony doors open or closed.
I’ve been proven wrong.
I make idle conversation with Alice and Blanche for far too long as they prepare me for bed to disguise the fact that I am worried sick. My stomach has been in a tangle since Prince Jasper escorted me inside from tea.
We sat across from one another at dinner, Prince Jasper at my father’s right hand, me on his left. I made a show of moving food around on my plate and smiling brightly whenever either of them said anything remotely charming, which was often.
My father appears to favor Prince Jasper. He seemed relieved to have him at the table, and showered him in smiles and questions and listened to the answers. I could also tell that my father was trying his best not to make it seem as if he was putting pressure on my choice.
It was that very effort that made me sure of what I must do.
There’s something there between me and Prince Jasper.
It may not be the same raw physical connection I shared with the man from the shadows, but neither of us could now deny that there is a physical connection that is equally intense.
More than that, he spoke to me, and after I revealed the secret that could’ve ended our time together, the conversation flowed easily.
It’s a spark that could grow into something more. It is a connection that could be helped and supported by marriage, not stifled by it.
I like him. I’m attracted to him. I’m charmed by him, and I feel for both him and his family. I want to know more about him.
And that is why I must end things with the man from the shadows. Just thinking that…it pains me. I feel sick to my stomach and yet, it was merely a temporary arrangement. I do not even know his name. Surely, it could never have lasted.
I was naive to think that no one would ever be able to take his place. I was also naive to think I could plan my life based on a man I have never seen and who has made no promise to me. The man from the shadows does not owe me any promises—I know that—and he does not owe me his presence.
Above all, I do not think it is fair to him if I allow things to continue the way they have been if I am to be married, and I think—
It is astonishing to feel this way, and suddenly, but I think I am to be married after all.
I think I would regret not wedding Prince Jasper.
I think I might spend my life wishing I had gotten to know more about him.
Perhaps everything about him. And I will only be able to do that if I become his wife.
There have been signs all along that Prince Jasper is serious about me as well, though I did not care to see them as such at the time.
He asked for a week with no other suitors, and my father agreed, so even then he was thinking of taking his time to court me.
My honesty at tea is simply not enough to assuage my guilt. I need to make it clear to my lover—it is so strange and overwhelming to think that I must end things with my lover before I can go any farther with a betrothal to my future husband—that our arrangement is over.
“You look tired, Princess,” Alice says as she finishes brushing my hair and begins to braid it for the night. “Shall I have some calming tea sent up?”
“That would be lovely. Thank you, Alice. Thank you, Blanche,” I add, because I can see in the mirror she is going to the door.
Alice lowers the oil in the torches to dim the lights, checks to see if there is anything else I need, then retires for the night. A cupbearer brings a tray with a pot of chamomile tea and a cup.
I pour tea into the cup, but I’m too nervous to do anything but pace my room.
I force myself to make my steps slow and relaxing, and I rehearse what to say.
I decide I will be kind but firm. I decide I will handle this the way a princess should.
I have the authority to end this, and I have the authority to move forward in my life.
The man from the shadows seems to want me to have what I wish, I remind myself as I go from lamp to lamp, lowering the lights the rest of the way. He came to me and gave me what I wanted. He will give me this, too. He will have known from the start that it could not go on forever.
When there is nothing left for me to do in my rooms, I go out onto the balcony to see if he will appear there.
He doesn’t. When I tire of standing, I climb into my bed and wait.
I do not think I will be able to fall asleep. I do not even think I will be able to close my eyes. But the intensity of the day catches up with me, and I find myself drifting off.
The bed dips, but it almost doesn’t wake me. I’m only vaguely aware of another in my bed. I only come truly awake when the silky blindfold covers my eyes. I sit up, feeling him next to me, and take a deep breath.
With my heart racing, I know what needs to be done.
“I have a confession,” I say. I cannot stop my voice from shaking. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
He does not answer.
“Let me see your face,” I try next.
There is nothing but silence. He does not answer me. I slowly reach for the blindfold, but his large hands grip my wrist and stop me. I do not wish to disappoint him and so I still and then lower my hands, which he allows.
The bed groans as he moves, slowly and carefully, then brushes a kiss to my neck.
It is the tenderest touch I have felt from him, and it breaks my heart.
I cannot let this go on another moment without telling him the truth, yet I do not want to say what I must. I attempt to push him away, but it’s of no use.
He places a hand at my hip, pinning me down and then his other thumb brushes along my lower lip.
When I made wild plans in my head at the ball, I did not think they would come along with such doubt and pain.
“I’ve been with another,” I say, as quickly as I can, because I fear I will let his kisses distract me and avoid the matter completely. “I… I…” My voice cracks and I’ve lost the words I’d practiced earlier. I wait for his response but I did not expect what came next.
He slips his hand between my thighs. I gasp and my hands press against his chest, only lightly, and I do not push him away.
He strokes gently at my folds, seeming to wonder at the evidence of my arousal, and then he slides two fingers into me slowly, as if he is…
checking. When his fingers meet no barrier to stop him, he lets out a low groan of what seems like approval.
I whisper, “I slept with another. And so I must…I must tell you…I can’t… I didn’t mean to—”
He kisses me, silencing me as he does and pushing me onto the pillows. Still kissing me—even more deeply, but still softly, as if he thinks I may be fragile—he lifts my nightgown to my hips and spreads my thighs, then searches out my clit and rubs it in a gentle pattern.
It’s a far slower build than I am used to, but he is persistent. I feel the pleasure everywhere in my body by the time he dips his fingers into my opening and seems to be satisfied with what he finds there.
Then, still gently, he turns me over onto my stomach. He positions himself between my legs so I cannot close them and runs one hand down my back, all the way down to my bottom.
I gasp when he spreads my cheeks apart with the pad of one thumb, but he adds some pressure there, as if trying to soothe me.
He gathers more of my arousal from my cunt and strokes the wetness over my asshole.
“I…I’ve never—”
“Quiet,” he hushes me, and I do my best to quiet myself. It is the first thing he has ever said to me, though he did not truly use his voice. My heart races.
Sleep and pleasure drug me into submission.
He continues to draw my arousal up to my forbidden entrance, working it in as gently as he stroked my clit.
I am not used to being touched there and cannot relax at first. He does not seem worried by this, although I cannot see his face, so I do not know for sure.
I know he is persistent, adding pressure bit by bit, making my hole wetter so that when he slides his fingertip inside me, I cannot resist.
I must bury my face in the pillow and breathe, because the sensation is so foreign. I do not think I will ever get used to it, but he slides his other hand underneath me and strokes my clit.
I try again, as I turn my head from side to side on the pillow to tell him. But he heard me. He knows. And yet…
The pleasure helps me to relax. He does not make me come. I think if he did, his fingers in my ass would be too much. Still, I press my hips into his hand, angling them as best I can for more pleasure.
I don’t think I have ever been this wet before.
It’s enough that he can fuck two fingers into my ass.
Fuuuuck. The sensation is nearly too much as heat rages through me.
I whimper when he adds a third, but he does not stop, and after a minute or two of gentle thrusts the burn recedes and I am able to take it.
He keeps his fingers inside me as he lifts my hips. I don’t know what he plans to do until he rubs his cock through my folds, almost as if he is going to fuck me there. He dips the crown into my opening and makes sure it is coated. Then he lowers my hips again, pulling his fingers out as he does.
Oh fuck. I moan into the pillow as he pleasures me.
His hand continues to move on my clit as he presses himself to my hole.
I concentrate on the pleasure between my legs and breathe as deep as I can.
I bite down on the pillow as he pushes in.
The pressure is so intense that for a moment or two I do not think I can bear it, but then he presses harder on my clit, and my body takes over.
I don’t know what I do, exactly, but it allows him in.
My breath catches and the heat intensities.
My head spins as he presses forward. It is so much tighter than my pussy. It is so much more forbidden. I am terrified of what I am doing, terrified I will break somehow, and so turned on I can hardly breathe.
Yet I must breathe, for his fingers are moving faster on my clit. He keeps his thrusts relatively slow and gentle. I wait for him to take me as he did before, fast and a bit rough, but he never does. He thrusts into my ass steadily, keeping at it as his hand moves and moves.
When his fingers stutter on my clit, I know he is close. That knowledge alone sends me over the edge. I cry out into the pillow as I come, because this, too, is much more intense when my ass is filled with his cock. His heat fills me there, and he holds my hips close to him as he comes.
I do not feel ready for him to pull out, but he does, as gently as he entered me. I collapse onto the pillows and he lies down behind me, putting his arms around me and pulling me close. His chest against my back. Both of our breathing unsteady.
Emotion overwhelms me, and I begin to cry, helpless to stop it. I can’t contain the guilt I feel. I’ve slept with two men in one day. I’ve betrayed them both all for short-lived pleasure.
I haven’t said enough. I was not kind, but firm. I didn’t tell him that we have to end this. Now what am I to do? I must tell Prince Jasper about this, too, and he will not be so forgiving when I do. How could he be? How could anyone? He offered me grace and I have taken advantage of that.
I could have said no, and yet, I didn’t.
The man from the shadows holds me and kisses the top of my head. I try to push the blindfold off, but he stops me with a hand around my wrist.
“Say something,” I beg, but he only kisses my neck. “Who are you?”
He turns over, or at least that’s what I think he does, but when I reach for him, I find only the blankets.
By the time I get the blindfold off, he’s gone.
Casen
There are many ways to move unseen through any castle, and this one is no different.
I only wish I did not have to take each step with such longing in my heart. It’s an awful feeling, more painful than I had expected, and it does not leave me once I have returned to my room.
I prepare for bed in the dark and attempt to find peace under the covers. I cannot stop thinking of her.
I close my eyes and remind myself that I could never have her to myself. But she is still mine. I’m not the kind of man who could ever have a woman to himself. I don’t have enough to give but I won’t give her up so easily. Rules are meant to be broken.