“Tell me what you want,” Enne blurted out, without a degree of restraint. Her cheeks flushed, knowing her many attempts were unbecoming—or worse, pathetic—but if she was about to flee this museum before daybreak, for good, then she would leave nothing behind. “You know what I want.”
Levi interlaced their fingers.
“There’s no one I’ve risked my life for more,” he told her seriously. “And nothing I wouldn’t risk now if it meant I could be with you.”
He tugged her closer to him, and it should have felt familiar, to sit on top of him, her legs straddling his waist, her chest pressed against his. But it didn’t. It felt treacherous. After all the mistakes she’d made, she no longer trusted herself with power.
But she’d missedthispower. How it felt to slide her hands against his stomach and feel him tense beneath her. How it felt to rest her head against the crook of his shoulder and feel him shudder. It was the sort of power that made her broken throne feel sturdy enough to support her. Whatever her mistakes, whatever her story, she would not fall.
Though Enne might’ve prolonged this control for longer, if only to relish it, Levi cradled her face in two hands and lifted her lips to his. It was a soft kiss, as though each feared the other might shatter. His touch only ever seemed to graze her, his fingers tracing up the curve of her waist or sleeve of her dress. She squeezed his shoulder only enough to hold herself upright. They had done terrible things to each other. They had made each other paper-thin.
But that was all right. Tonight, Enne wanted to feel herself shatter.
Moving faster now, she unbuttoned his shirt, and he shrugged it off and tossed it aside. His fingers clawed against her back as he unlaced her dress, and she slipped it off her shoulders and pressed herself against him, the fabric bunched against their stomachs, their skin warm and slick with sweat.
“Since, as you said, we cannot always guess each other’s mind,” Levi said, “tell me whatyouwant.”
Levi’s breath was warm against her neck, but Enne still shivered.
In answer, she stood and stepped out of her dress. He watched as she unfastened her stockings and tugged them off, as though still unsure what she meant. Even in the weeks they’d been together, they hadn’t slept together. It wasn’t a question of morals—Enne had certainly abandoned her old finishing school’s mind on such matters when she’d dubbed herself a Sinner. But it was because she hadn’t been ready.
And despite the months apart, Enne felt different now. This wasn’t giving herself to someone else, as though she was a bargain of her own. She knew herself now, wholly and unflinchingly, and that wasn’t something that could be lost.
“Could you unlace my corset?” she asked, her voice wavering slightly.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
“Yes,” she responded, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t nervous. She turned her back to him and shuddered as she felt the contraption’s tight binding release, little by little, until Levi discarded it on the floor. Then she worked up her nerve and pulled off her chemise so that she stood in nothing but a pair of thin silk shorts.
She turned, the only thing quelling her embarrassment as he looked at her was her own yearning to look at him. She led him onto the bed.
Levi kissed her everywhere, taking his time, as though he also felt there had been far too many nights squandered hating one another when they could have been doingthis. But the wanting made Enne feel taut, like a finger pressed against a trigger without release, and there was one place he hadn’t kissed.
When she asked him to, her words spilling out as her lips roamed his chest, he looked nervous. “I’ve never been with a girl before. I don’t know what...” He cleared his throat. “Not that I’m not eager to learn.”
“Don’t worry,” Enne answered, grinning. “I know myself. I can tell you what I like.”
While Levi obliged, he raised his hand and interlaced his fingers with hers. She was glad for something to squeeze onto the moment she felt herself shatter.
Afterward, he moved on top of her. He breathed heavily. “Please tell me this is not the last time. Even if I have to march personally into the Chancellor’s office and tear the contract into—”
“This is not the last time,” Enne swore, though that didn’t mean she knew what their future held. Their relationship would transform from a public affair to a dark-held secret.
“Whatever happens,” Levi spoke, “we will protect each other. We’re in this together.”
Enne kissed him fiercely so that his words would stain her own lips. She could taste herself on him, and she liked the taste of this secret.
She liked all of it, the weight of him on top of her, the ardent way he looked at her, the sound they both made when there was no closer for them to go.
After they finished and lay together for several minutes in the rightness of it, Enne reached over and grabbed their two discarded cards from the nightstand: the Emperor and the Empress. “Tellmethere will be many times,” she said softly, her mind returning to the gruesomeness of the earlier murder.
“I can’t promise you that,” Levi answered hoarsely.
“Promise me anyway.”
He slipped his arms around her and held her tightly. “I promise.”
Enne turned and buried her face against his chest. Two months ago, Vianca had instructed Enne to break his heart, but she could still hear it beat. She could feel her own, still rapid from lack of breath. And she wondered how many times it would take for their lives to stop feeling breakable.
