Chapter Nineteen
Julian was still shouting and her mind was still reeling when a hand wrapped around her wrist. She found herself being pulled in the opposite direction, away from Julian and deeper into the ruins.
Her first instinct was to pull away, but when a familiar voice met her ears, she could have wept with relief.
"I've got you."
"Auren," she gasped.
"Quiet."
The single word came out clipped and Cassara didn't need to see his face to know that he was furious. She could feel it in the grip of his hand and in the barely controlled violence radiating from him with every step.
She stumbled once, her slipper catching on the edge of uneven stone, but he caught her, steadying her by the waist for one burning second before releasing her again. Like he didn't trust himself to hold on longer.
By the time he stopped, the sounds of the gathering had faded behind them, the crackling of fire reduced to a distant echo among crumbling stone.
He released her hand and paced away, movements sharp and restless. She watched him stop, watched his shoulders rise and fall as he took a deep breath that did nothing to calm the storm she could see building in him.
Cassara glanced back the way they came, breath still uneven. "Julian didn't see you, did he?"
Auren shook his head, voice low and dangerous. "No."
She nodded once and folded her arms, mostly to hide the way her fingers trembled. Was he angry at her? For being reckless, for letting Julian pull her away—
"You didn't have to do that."
"I did."
Simple and honest, but edged with something sharp.
He stepped forward, his hand rising as though to touch her, only to curl into a fist and fall back to his side. His eyes searched hers.
"He touched you. Put his hands on you—"
The words came out rough, and the anger in them made her stomach twist. She needed him to know she hadn't wanted it, that she hadn't asked for any of this.
Cassara's voice came soft. "I didn't want him to."
"I know, Cassara, I know." The response was immediate, the fury in his voice shifting. "I heard you and I tried to get to you faster—gods, I should have killed him. I should go back and tear him limb from limb."
His anger wasn’t directed at her, she realized, but at Julian and at himself.
"No, Auren," Cassara said, catching his hand. "It's fine. I'm fine."
"It's not," Auren countered, his free hand rising to cup her face. She felt the tremor in his fingers. Fear? No, not fear. It was barely controlled rage mixed with concern.
"What if he did see you? What if—"
"He didn't," Auren assured her, thumb brushing her cheek. "And if he did? So be it."
"You say things like that," she said, barely above a whisper, "and I forget what's at stake."
"Good," he said quietly. "Because watching him touch you nearly broke something in me I'm not sure I can fix."
She reached for him, her hands caught the front of his jacket and she pulled, closing the space between them in one sharp movement. His mouth met hers halfway.
It was heat and hunger and a week’s worth of restraint torn apart in a single breath.
His hands found her waist, her back, the curve of her ribs, everywhere at once, like he couldn’t decide what to hold and so tried to hold all of her.
She felt the press of him through every inch of her dress, the shudder in his breath when she arched into him without meaning to.
He kissed her like he’d been waiting for this moment through fire and silence and sleepless nights. Like he’d memorized her mouth in memory and was only now being allowed to taste it again.
Her back hit stone, cold and solid, an ancient column or maybe a fractured wall.
She didn’t care. The edge of it bit into the small of her back, grounding her even as the rest of her went molten.
Somewhere behind them, laughter drifted across the ruins, but it felt far away, dreamlike.
Nothing mattered outside the heat of his mouth, the way his tongue flicked against hers, coaxing, claiming.
The way he made a low sound in his throat when she kissed him harder in return.
She wanted more, more of his hands, his breath, his weight. More of the way he needed her like this, wild and wordless.
The kiss deepened, slower now. Hungrier. He took his time tracing the shape of her mouth with his own, until she was breathless, dizzy, her lips swollen and her thoughts reduced to nothing but the feel of him.
His hand slid from her cheek down the curve of her neck, hesitating at her collarbone. She felt the tension in his fingers, the slight tremor that betrayed his struggle for control.
“Auren,” she whispered against his lips, her voice raw with need. His name was both plea and permission.
His eyes met hers, the moonlight filtering through the crumbling ruins caught the sharp angles of his face, illuminating the conflict there. Instructor and student. Forbidden and necessary. The rules that had always stood between them seemed paper-thin now, dissolving with each ragged breath.
Cassara reached for his hand and guided it lower, over the delicate fabric of her dress. Her heart hammered against her ribs as his palm curved around her waist, fingers splaying across her bare back. The sensation of his hand against her skin sent electricity coursing through her veins.
“We shouldn’t,” he murmured, but his body betrayed him. His lips found the sensitive spot below her ear, trailing fire down her neck.
“We already are,” she answered, arching into him.
His grip tightened, pulling her closer as his restraint crumbled.
A gasp escaped her as his hand slid lower, tracing the curve where her dress met skin.
The world narrowed to the feel of his mouth on her throat, his chest against hers, and the wall at her back.
She couldn’t think, didn’t want to. Her fingers fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, each one a small victory as more of his skin was exposed to her touch.
Auren’s breath hitched when her hand slipped beneath the fabric and her palm flattened against his chest, feeling the rapid thunder of his heart.
It matched her own, wild, desperate, afraid to stop.
His muscles tensed beneath her exploring fingers, and something primal surged through her at knowing she affected him this way.
“Tell me to stop,” he whispered against her collarbone, his voice rough with restraint even as his hands continued their maddening journey across her back. “Tell me now, Cassara.”
But she couldn’t. Wouldn’t. The rules that had seemed so important hours ago were distant shadows compared to the reality of him. She answered by pulling his mouth back to hers, tasting the groan that vibrated through him.
His hands found the ties at the side of her dress, hesitating there.
Cassara arched into him, silent permission granted in the press of her body against his.
Her skin tingled, every nerve alive with sensation as his fingers worked the knots free.
When the laces fell open, she felt the cool night air kiss the newly exposed skin of her hip, sending a shiver through her that had nothing to do with cold.
Auren’s eyes sought hers again, dark with want, but still questioning. Still giving her one last chance to retreat.
Cassara answered by guiding his hand to the remaining ties.
Her heart hammered against her ribs, excitement and nervousness braiding together in her chest. The dress loosened further, fabric whispering against her skin as his hands explored the curve of her waist, the touch igniting something primal within her.
“You’re trembling,” he murmured against her ear, his breath hot against her skin.
“So are you,” she countered, feeling the slight quiver in his fingers as they traced patterns on her bare skin.
A half-smile curved his lips. “Terrified,” he admitted. “Not of this. Of how much I want it.”
Her mind clouded with sensation as Auren’s fingers moved with gentle insistence, slipping beneath the loosened bodice of her gown.
The fabric gave way beneath his touch, sliding down to reveal the curve of her shoulder.
Cassara was taken aback by the intensity of his gaze as it followed the path of his hands.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, voice rough with desire as he traced the exposed line of her collarbone, then lower.
Heat bloomed across her skin, a flush that spread from her cheeks down her neck to where his fingers now played at the edge of her bodice.
She felt vulnerable and powerful all at once, watching his expression darken as more of her was revealed to him.
The garnet fabric pooled at her elbows, caught on the last remaining ties.
With deliberate slowness, Auren’s fingers worked at the remaining fastenings, each one giving way in silent surrender.
Cassara held her breath as the dress slipped lower, baring her breasts to his heated gaze.
She fought the instinct to cover herself, to shield her body from the moonlight that silvered her skin.
“Don’t,” he murmured, catching her wrist gently when she moved. “Let me see you.”
Her pulse quickened as his eyes took in every inch of exposed skin. No one had ever looked at her with such reverence, such hunger.
Cassara’s breath came in shallow bursts as Auren’s hands hovered just above her skin, the heat of him radiating between them without touching.
When his fingertips finally made contact, tracing the delicate curve where her neck met her shoulder, she couldn’t contain the soft sound that escaped her lips.
“I’ve imagined this,” he confessed, as his palm skimmed downward, following the slope of her collarbone, then lower still. “But imagination pales against reality.”
When his hand finally cupped her breast, Cassara’s head fell back, eyes fluttering closed as his thumb brushed across her nipple. The jolt of pleasure that followed made her gasp, her body responding instinctively, arching into his touch as heat pooled low in her belly.