You should not call yourself a wastrel. Surely, a man who knows how to use his tongue like yourself could never deserve the name. No one with whom you share your gifts could grant the justness of the appellation.
I have thought of you as well and would hate to think of you in such a way this evening without a means of relief. Thus, I will pledge to be there. Should I satiate your desires in the same way that I did last night, or should I use my mouth this time? It would, after all, be only fair.
Now, I will be serious. You should know that, truly, I cannot keep the smile from my face. I assure you that they think I have gone addlepated in the kitchens.
Olivia
*
Olivia—
When you write in such a saucy fashion, I find myself unable to wait until this evening. Reading your words has me in a shameful frenzy.
If you find yourself in the green parlor in half an hour, you will save my soul from perdition, I am sure. Or perhaps quite the opposite. Either way, I promise you heaven—or as close to it as I can bring you.
Augustus
*
Augustus—
I should not have met you in the green parlor and if anyone knew that I had done so, I would surely be sacked.
However, I cannot regret my actions when you have made the risk so worthwhile. I know surely I will never be able to look at that armchair the same way again. Who knew a lady could ride a man in such a fashion? I must confess that I had no notion of such things until this very afternoon.
Now that I do, however, I am already desperate to repeat the experience.
Olivia
*
Olivia hadn’t meantto say the words.
She hadn’t meant to conjure the past between them, wouldn’t have been able to, if he hadn’t brought it up himself. With her mind so addled with pleasure, she hadn’t been unable to affect any artifice.
Now, Augustus’s eyes bore into her, his expression feral. She hadn’t wanted to discuss this with him. How he had humiliated her. She had wanted to forget the past and enjoy this pleasure between them.
“It’s nothing,” she responded, closing her eyes so she didn’t have to see his face. She grabbed the sheet and covered herself with it, suddenly feeling exposed.
“You said I sent you away,” he said, his voice hoarse. “What does that mean?”
Still with her eyes closed, the pain of the past beating down on her, she swallowed hard. “You know what I mean, Augustus. Back then. You left me that note.”
“Olivia.” She felt his hand on her arm. “Look at me.”
She opened her eyes. His otherworldly blue gaze burned back at her.
“I never left you a note.”
Olivia had to laugh at that. She had never suspected that he would deny it. In fact, every action that he had taken since their reacquaintance seemed to admit it. He had promised to win back her regard, her trust, hadn’t he?
“Yes, you did,” she protested, “You left it for me. In the tinderbox. As you always did.”
“What did it say?” His expression, if anything, had only turned up in intensity. She felt a small, quaking fear at the penetration of his gaze.
“That I was dismissed. I was to leave the house. And that anything we had shared was at an end. It wasn’t a long note.”
“And you believed it?”
