“Ugh. Fine,” she relented, but her mood had soured considerably, “I won’t say a word. On my honor.”
Willa left and Kieran hovered a minute before breathing out and heading back inside his office.
And there was Sera, smiling at nothing.
Kieran shut the door. He intended to ask if she was ready to head home, but the sight of her had altered all intention. Did he continue on like nothing had happened? Like there wasn’t a greater than likely chance his Sense was already blind to her? Had his feeble gift already detected that his attachment to her was greater than he had assumed?
And why in the realm was she grinning at the empty room? What could possibly be funny about the appearance of Wraith in his office, all but threatening them should he not uncover sufficient evidence to credit their claims? Or was she smiling because she was still thinking about the very unfinished nature of their Game? The memory did not conjure a smile for him. More like a carnal snarl desperate to finish what they had started.
His eyes drifted from her to the door, the scene of his unraveling.
He had not intended to let her catch him off guard. Initiating the Game had been a means to end his fixation on her, either in her denial or her acceptance. Then he’d lost himself to suppressed memories and the neglected emotions that came with them. He’d blindly allowed her to undo his pants, tease with bold ministrations of her hands until no amount of practice could have prevented him from surrendering control. But descending into a mind-numbing frenzy had not been his aim.
He’d meant to touchher, allow himself that one indulgence at his own pace. But he had become someone else. Someone who nearly lets a woman stroke him fully clothed, in his placeof work, while suppressing every groan and intake of breath as she’d alighted sensations he’d not felt in too long.
It also was not in his plans to pin her to the door. It was quite a different person that had hefted up all those layers of skirts, that intended to drive her into carnal delirium more intense than what plagued him. He wasn’t so green as to not remember how to use his hands to elicit pleasure.
She’d melted against him, spurring him on, further clouding all coherent thought as his fingers slipped into her. Feeding on the sensations, so pure and exhilarating. It took everything not to open his mouth on her skin, to draw his tongue up her throat. He felt each clench and spasm as she fought in vain to hide her desire, to stifle her moans. It was obvious enough in the squirming movement of her neck as she struggled, but the added sensations of her pulsing to the measured rhythm of his fingers created a complicated line between her seduction and his arousal.
Without question, he should have stopped before he started. Her struggle to contain her ardor should not have fueled the blaze in his veins. The blaze that insisted he not stop until he felt her release and test just how much her control would hold when pulsing with bliss.
These were all thoughts that did him no good now, as the deed was done. Or, rather, started. She hadn’t finished.
The damage might very well be done and it was unlikely to be altered by her climax.
What more did he have to lose?
Not prudent, but then this was one temptation he was losing the will to fight. He let the idea settle, not realizing that he had fixed his gaze quite intently on Sera.
“Are… we going to go home?” she asked.
Home indeed. Where they could be alone. Where it didn’t matter what state of dress they remained in or how loud. Withproper beds or upright against the wall, or maybe they could work their way through every surface in his house to determine which was best suited for pleasure.
What harm was there, truly, in continuing where they had left off?
Kieran regained his composure, setting a hand on the door handle without turning it. “I’d prefer to return somewhere we won’t be interrupted.”
Her lips fell open, shoulders rising with an intake of breath. “Oh.”
“After you, Seraphina.” He opened the door and extended his arm as he spoke.
“You, wait. So…” She started to walk, stopping as she passed to spear him with large, curious eyes.
“I have made the grave decision to ignore my better judgment for the moment. Your safety is still my highest priority, however,” he bent to whisper, lips feathering over her ear because he couldn’t keep himself from touching her, though he resisted drawing his tongue over her skin, “I can find no sound argument against finishing what we started. Reason, it seems, has forsaken me for the promise of something infinitely more appealing.”
Her teeth clamped down on her bottom lip. Still hovering near her ear, he inhaled the sweet, almond scent as ardor saturated the air. He considered taking her right here. Locking the door and simply ignoring any attempted interruptions. It took every shred of willpower he possessed to pull away.
“After you, Seraphina,” he repeated.
She all but sprinted for the door.
The carriage ride was heavy with the promise of his words, a palpable tension they both avoided. He couldn’t start here, only to be interrupted when they reached the Court. No. He would not be interrupted again. The only way to eliminate the chancewas to wait. Patience. Control. Somehow, the promise of a reward for his restraint kindled a sense of satisfaction he wasn’t used to experiencing.
When they arrived at the entrance of Winter, he helped her down with an offered hand, his thumb brushing against her knuckles before letting go. Even her touch was manageable with anticipation. He couldn’t ravish her here, in the middle of the street, but he could wait. Bide time until the right moment, until he could feast in peace. His pace was more brisk than normal.
The walk to his home from the entrance to the court wasn’t far, ten minutes at most, but each step was laced with intention. Energy simmered between their shoulders as they kept a modest distance from each other, fearing that moving any closer and it would ignite.
Kieran reached his front door and paused.
