Chapter 39 A Courtyard of Darkness
A Courtyard of Darkness
Elizabeth scrabbled at the fingers wrapped around the back of her neck. Caspian yanked her towards him, bringing her face to his, their foreheads almost touching.
He closed his eyes, his breathing turning ragged, and when he opened them, they were silver wreathed in flame once more.
“Don’t,” he growled. “I’m trying to play nice tonight, but don’t push me.”
Her nostrils flared. “You find it that challenging to act like a gentleman?”
He brought a possessive hand to her cheek. “We’ve shared each other before. Several times now. Either spend the night with me or give me a valid reason. Some concrete answer on why you suddenly reject me.”
She tried to withdraw from him, but he held her firm. She spoke carefully, “Why do you care if I reject you? I am only a meal for you, after all.”
“It’s not like that,” Caspian muttered.
“How is it not?”
He released her and turned away. He dragged his hand through his hair.
“It was at first, but it’s not anymore.” Caspian made a frustrated sound.
“You drive me crazy,” he said angrily. “You will be the death of me, Elizabeth. How can you not see that I’ve become attached to you?
” He gestured around them. “I threw you a ball for Lucifer’s sake. ”
She considered for a moment and said, tersely, “Thank you for the ball.”
Exasperatedly, he said, “So just … just tell me what I did, tell me how to fix what’s between us. What have I done wrong tonight?”
She pressed her lips together, trying to find a way to phrase the tumultuous feelings she had where he was concerned. How he made her smile one moment and made her crumble and feel unsure of herself the next. How he had given her so many reasons to loathe him.
How she wanted him, but her rational mind told her she would be a fool to ever sleep with him again.
But she didn’t know how to say any of that, so she said, “I can’t put it into words.”
“Try?” he asked.
She said nothing.
“Have I wronged you tonight?”
“No.”
“Do you want me?”
She said nothing.
“Do you want me, yes or no?”
She was silent for a moment. Finally, she whispered, “I do, but it frightens me.”
“I—it frightens me that I want this.” She splayed her hand over his chest. “Because I do, but my mind tells me it is the last thing on earth I should be doing. And that terrifies me.”
His expression softened, and he placed a hand upon her cheek. “You have my word that I will not hurt you tonight.”
Her eyes shuttered, and she glanced towards the night sky. Tonight.
“And I’d be lying if I said I haven’t been staring at you in that dress all evening.”
She looked at him from lowered lashes and smiled a little. “Really?”
“Yes. Why do you think I made you bring it to Arboras with you?” He glanced pointedly at her cleavage that was threatening to burst from her corset. A lock of his hair fell across his forehead as he flicked his gaze back to hers. “You have my self-control in shreds tonight, is it not obvious?”
She let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. “Er—”
Her eyes snagged on his frame. He looked good tonight, too, with his suit shirt stretched tight over his broad chest. Her body wanted nothing more than to nestle in his embrace. But she didn’t know if she wanted those things, or if he had once again perverted her senses.
She furiously thought of white walls around her mind and averted her gaze.
He placed a finger under her chin and turned her face to him. “Tell me how to fix what’s between us? What do you want me to say?” His dark brows furrowed, as if he were sincere in his wish to fix what lay broken between them.
His eyes of silver fire were riveted on her, waiting.
She thought about it for a moment. “I want you to tell me something nice. A compliment.”
Something real. Something nice he thought about her. A way to sort out if she actually wanted him, or if her feelings were a lie.
“You’re always on my mind,” he said quickly.
Elizabeth scoffed. “That’s not a compliment.”
Caspian was quiet for a moment, as if considering. When he spoke, his tone was dismissive. “I think about you all the time, but I have no idea why. You’re beautiful, but there are lots of women who are beautiful.”
Her smile fell. “Possibly the worst compliment I’ve ever received.” She raised her brows, waiting, but he said nothing. She snorted. “One compliment? Seriously? Is it that hard of an ask?”
He raised a hand. “No, just—I just need a moment.” He assessed her critically. “I don’t know why, you’re always on my mind. Only that you are.” He paused. “I always want to see what you’re doing, and I always wonder what you’re thinking about.”
“Clearly, compliments are not your strong suit.” She huffed a laugh.
He stepped closer, his face now close to hers. He studied her face intently for a moment. Finally, he said, “Your eyes.”
“What?”
“My answer.”
She furrowed her brow and scoffed, looking away.
Caspian said slowly, “There are many women who are beautiful, but I think that what makes you truly something extraordinary are your eyes.” He paused. “It took me a moment to put my finger on it.”
Shyly, she looked up, and their gaze locked.
“You have eyes that pierce me, like they can see every wretched thing I’ve ever done.” He paused, smiling. “And between you and me, it’s quite the list.” He stepped closer. “Sharp eyes that were my first clue that there’s an intelligent mind working furiously underneath your little court smiles.”
She pressed her lips together, trying not to smile.
“I think if they lined up ten women, each every bit as beautiful as you, I think your eyes would make me choose you every single time.”
She cleared her throat. “That’s at least a bit better.”
“And me?” He prompted, a smirk on his lips.
“What?”
“A compliment.” He raised his brows. “You started this game. Tell me a compliment. I don’t think you’ve ever given me one.”
“I have so—” She trailed off as she realized he was right. “Hmmm.”
She smiled, surveying him critically and placed a hand on his cheek, his dark beard rough under her fingers. She leaned close. “I like your beard.” She ran her fingers through his inky black hair. It was as soft as silk. “And I’ve always loved your hair.”
Caspian grinned, looking almost too handsome to bear. “Is that so?”
She didn’t know who leaned in first, but suddenly her lips were on his.
His lips were warm and sure, and she melted against him. His arms wrapped around her, holding her waist. Her fingers fisted in his hair, pulling him close.
He kissed her soft and slow, and she gripped his shirt. He placed another hand upon her cheek and devoured her mouth with his. She wrapped a calf around his, desperate to have him closer still.
“Wrap your other leg around me.”
“What?” she murmured, amused.
He smirked, his lips tugging upwards. “Jump, I’ll catch you.”
She looked down skeptically at the elaborate ballgown. “Have you seen how much fabric I’m wearing?”
His eyes darkened with amusement. “Allow me.”
Before she could protest, his hands found the hem of her skirts, gathering the layers of tulle and silk.
She gasped as he lifted the fabric, the cool night air hit her legs as she wrapped her arms around his neck and jumped, managing to lock her legs around his waist despite the bulk of layers bunched between them.
He caught her, gripping her hips and holding her up in the air.
She grinned widely. “What if you drop me?”
He gave her a look and said seriously, “I would never drop you.”
He held her as if she weighed nothing and walked over to the courtyard’s stone wall. She felt the sharp bite of stone against her back, and he braced her back against the wall, devouring her with his mouth. Her hands found his bearded jaw, holding him close.
It was a crime how much she wanted him.
She made a sound low in her throat, and her hands roamed over his back, his shoulders. Aching for the warmth of skin on skin.
He gripped her thighs, and she felt his hardness brush up against her.
She gave a sharp intake of breath. He kissed her neck, grinding himself against her.
A sigh loosed from her lips. He was showing her exactly what he wanted to do to her, and seemed unconcerned they were fully clothed in the middle of the courtyard.
She gripped his shoulders. “Someone could see,” she breathed against his ear.
He gazed down at her, his voice deep as he asked, “Is that your only remaining objection?”
She bit her lip and nodded.
He breathed in, and as he exhaled, a torrent of shadows flew from his skin. His hands bled plumes of black magic, and it curled around them, cocooning the two of them in black fire.
Mesmerized, she watched his magic envelop the entire courtyard, until the air was thick with darkness. She moved a hand in the air, parting the shadows over his shoulder as if parting water. She couldn’t see more than a foot in front of her, beyond that, the air was thick with shadow.
He set her legs down gently until her feet touched the ground. Her body protested the loss of contact. Before she could protest, he turned her roughly around.
She felt a warm breath on her neck as he pulled her against him.
“Better?” he whispered against her earlobe.
She moved his hands to her chest in answer.
He gripped her chest and held her against him, his hands roaming over her, down her waist, over her backside. Back to her chest.
His hand slipped under her skirts and massaged a hand between her thighs. She arched into him, aching with need. He moved her undergarments aside and groaned at what he found there.
He lifted her skirts and bent her over, grazing his fingers against her.
She felt him take his hardness in his hand and rub it against her, teasingly. She arched into him, begging him with her body. He slipped it in. Her eyes flew wide. He was thick. She looked back at him and fisted her fingers in his tunic.
He pulled out, and her body crumbled with the loss of contact.