Chapter Six #2
He settled one hand at her back and took the other in his. The hold was proper by court standards, and dangerously close at the same time.
“This one is used for public balls,” he said. “It’s meant to look stately while letting everyone see which pairs move well together and which ought to be separated by law.”
“Lovely.” She made a face that said she didn’t think that was lovely at all.
“It really is. Now follow me.”
He began slowly. The steps were measured and neat, not difficult in themselves but easy to spoil by haste.
Two to the side, pause, turn, cross, back.
Derran counted under his breath once or twice, then stopped when she found the pattern.
He corrected her by pressure rather than words, guiding her where she needed to go.
The dance kept them close enough that she could feel the shift of his breath when he laughed, the stretch and turn of his muscles beneath his shirt, the steadiness of his hand at the small of her back.
“Darling, you’re thinking too hard,” he said after she missed a turn.
“That’s because you’re making my feet do mental gymnastics.”
“Your feet must rise to the occasion.”
“My feet object.”
“They may sue the marsh court after the ball.”
She giggled and did better after that. The shape of the dance settled into her body in pieces.
He turned her once, then again, letting her find the rhythm of coming back to him.
When she stumbled, he caught the fault before it became one and kept them moving.
After a time she stopped watching her own feet and started watching his face.
Then, at last, she relaxed enough to follow properly, and he seemed to notice the change where their hands connected. His hand at her back grew surer. He spun her more slowly, then in a wider circle, drawing her back in with enough force to make the room tilt pleasantly before it steadied again.
“I know this trick,” she grinned.
“I should hope so. It’s a good one.”
When she laughed again, he took advantage of it and turned her faster. The room moved in a bright sweep. Then he caught her deep against him, both arms around her now, her back against his chest for an instant before he shifted and faced her again.
They stopped.
Neither of them was breathing quite evenly.
His face was close enough that she could see the tiny gold-brown flecks near the center of his deep blue eyes. He waited for her, asking nothing and yet somehow leaving room for answer.
She smiled at him. It came with slow mischief and meant far more.
“I’m not sure what to do next,” she said lightly. The same words she had said once many months ago, and though she could have meant the next step of the dance, they both knew she didn’t.
His mouth curved and his eyes narrowed, enjoying the memory. He too responded just as he had then. “I’ll be happy to show you.”
He kissed her again.
The last of the daylight faded while they forgot the dance and each other’s self-command along with it.
They undressed each other slowly, carefully, taking the time to press kisses against each section of newly revealed skin, letting their lips linger a little longer where the pleasure was the greatest.
Each piece of clothing set aside seemed to restore something that had been missing between them.
When they were both bare, his arms circled around her again, greedily, with the tenderness of quiet longing.
She answered him in kind, her hands learning him again even where memory had never truly forgotten, bunching in his hair and pressing him closer to her.
The silk sheets of the bed invited them in, and she pulled him down with her as though she meant to close the distance of the past weeks in one motion.
Her legs wrapped around him, drawing him to the slick center of her.
The first joining of them brought a shared breath, deep and unsteady, the sort that felt almost like distance giving way to relief.
It had been too long. They both knew it.
The knowledge lived in the way they held still for a moment after, letting the fact of each other settle fully into body and heart.
As he pushed slowly into her, their breath became a bond, tying them back together, reconnecting what had felt broken for those long weeks.
“You’re so…” she started to whisper, but couldn’t find the end of the thought.
His only response was to kiss her, settling deeper into her snug hold.
With a little gasp, her arms came around his neck.
The pleasure was so swift and intense that it seemed to change the air around them.
They floated on a cloud of endless satisfaction, the rest of the world falling away beneath them.
He barely moved, letting her savor the strain that came with taking him in, letting her guide him until she could meet him fully.
She twitched once around him, entirely defenseless and sure he could feel the warmth surging in her belly through her very skin.
Then Derran smirked, that bright crooked grin of his, and let his wings vibrate. The result was exactly what he had intended.
Ina cried out before she could stop herself, if she had even wanted to.