“Quietly,” she instructs when she pulls away.
As if in answer, the familiar, preternatural hunger rattles against the confines of my body with a force so wild it petrifies me. I give a strangled cry, wanting to squeeze my turquoise ring again.
“Relax and breathe,” she murmurs. “This is only practice, and I’ll be the one in control.”
Drawing in a deep breath, I nod. She releases my wrists to kneel in front of me. Hands shaky and cheeks hot, I gather up my full skirts. My eyes drift shut again as she drags my underwear down, dipping her head between my thighs.
We both moan at the first taste.Oh, mother of everything holy.
I bite my lip to keep from crying out, then remember I’m supposed to be breathing. I try to focus on the dark calm and the radiance of our overlapping auras, but it’s almost impossible to stay centered with her hot mouth teasing, her silken tongue gliding up one side of my clit and down the other.
She gives me soft, slow licks at first. When she hits that ridiculously sensitive spot, my muscles jerk, my fingers snarling in her hair. I inhale through my nose and exhale through my mouth, letting loose a quiet curse.
She stays on my spot, grabbing my hips to still me and flicking lightly until I gasp. My pleasure is climbing, spiraling exquisitely. Just as I’m coming to a breathtaking peak, shemoves down to my opening and draws her tongue back up slowly.
Not yet ready to let me climax, she reverts to soft, teasing strokes. I whine in frustration, my breasts straining against the stiff bodice of my gown. Heedless to my fussing, she continues at her languid pace until I want to scream. Until the sheer fabric overlaying my chest and throat feels like it’s strangling me.
Thoroughly savoring keeping me on the verge of insanity, she keeps my climax building and plateauing but never quite gives me enough to crest.
She moves down to my opening again, plunging her tongue inside, and moans. Fingers buried in the fleshiest parts of my thighs, she slides my leg over her shoulder, holding me fast against the wall to get a deeper angle.
Overtaken by a frenzy of her own, she feasts on me like a woman who’s been denied her favorite fruit or dessert for a thousand years. She drinks of me as if the world will end if she doesn’t. As if she might never have the opportunity again.
Her command over me is absolute. I’m as much her captive as I am to the gnawing, ravenous hunger barely held at bay. Tears form in my eyes, and I wonder if I’ll lose what’s left of my shredded mind when she miraculously moves up again, lavishing attention on my clit.
The next time she hits my spot, I grab her head, holding her in place and begging for release with all I’m worth.“Please, Elodie.Please. Please. Please.”
Finally, she wraps her lips around my clit, sucking and flicking as liquid fire gushes through my veins. After so much buildup and teasing, my body has no choice but to succumb.
Sharp contractions tear through me, and I clap a hand over my mouth to contain my broken cry. She doesn’t stop. My climax soars to an unimaginable zenith, and I fear my brain will break all over again.
When I come crashing back down, I’m a heaving, weak-kneed, teary-eyed mess. I pry myself away with a groan. She kisses my inner thigh, shrugs my leg off, and leans back to take me in.
“I did warn you not to test me tonight.” Still kneeling on the floor in front of me, her lips are swollen and glistening with my release. “Now you know what happens to pretty, mouthy brats.”
Chapter 38
Elodie
Music fills the first night of the new year when I finally step outside.
Brigit stands by one of the raging bonfires dotting the courtyard, playing a lively tune on her flute. She’s accompanied by Ana’s fiddle and Maeve’s bodhrán.
Maida’s gaze is too knowing, as usual. She takes one look at me, and it’s obvious she’s guessed what I’ve been up to. I sidle up, avoiding her probing look.
“Good of you to join us.” She nudges a shoulder into me, gray eyes flashing in the dark.
“Not a damn word.”
“Oh, I never ask questions I don’t want answers to.” She tilts her head toward the revelers. “Everyone’s been having a lovely time.”
Hand-in-hand, the girls skip and jog in a snaking line around the courtyard, weaving around the Waymark and between the many sputtering fires. A breathless Delia is leading them while the other nuns and Deirdre stand around the largest fire near the arch. Imogen and Kiera bring up the rear of the whipping serpentine line, stumbling and holding on for dear life.
Most dancers have lost their masks at this point. The handmaidens’ masks are a thing of ancient memory.
“Tell me it won’t work and I’ll drop it.” I pull my cloak tighter around me. “I only need to hear you say it.”
Startled, Maida regards me. “I know you don’t mean that. What’s bothering you, dear?”
