“My heart is yours. I cannot reclaim it...and you have proven yourself worthy of my captivation. I’ve come to accept the effects, embrace them, but you are a new world to me. I often don’t know what to do with myself.”
I studied his face, finding no signs of his usual masks. Just naked honesty. I leaned forward, raising a hand to touch his cheek.
He froze as I closed the distance between us, my inexperience showing in the way I paused just short of contact, uncertain of the angle. His breath ghosted over my lips.
“Like this?” I whispered.
Nicolas tilted himself just slightly, raising a hand to remove my hair pins one by one. The bells hit the rug with muted ringing. At last he traced the contour of my jawline, shutting his eyes in surrender.
I swallowed and sealed the gap, my lips just barely touching his. His stubble tickled my upper lip, his nose slightly pressing into my cheek.
Nicolas’ hand trembled against my jaw. I moved back to check on him, his face chasing mine for an inch before he pulled back on his own leash.
“Good,” he said breathlessly. “How do you—”
Before he could finish his question, I sank into him again, exhaling, and breathed him in with parting lips. His own breath caught in surprise, hand shifting to rake through my hair. I felt his temperature spike, his body vibrating with barely-controlled need.
As I released his other hand, it fell to my waist, fingers digging into my clothes with subtle urging.
“Am…” I paused, pulling away. He looked to be having a pleasant dream, the smile reaching his half-lidded gaze. “Am I doing this right?”
Nicolas responded with a laugh, both of his hands now settled carefully on my hips. He settled into a lazy smile, measuring my intentions. “You’re wonderful, Alana.”
The way he held me… I wanted more, even if I didn’t know exactly whatmoreentailed.
Sensing that, the prince gave my waist a slight tug. “May I?”
I consented with a nod and moved onto his lap, coaxed by his gentle pull. My legs hung beside him, skirts pooling around us both. The unfamiliar position left me acutely aware of every point of contact between us. His thighs beneath me, the solidness of his chest when I swayed forward…it was overwhelming and thrilling at once.
My hands found his shoulders for balance. I saw myself within his molten gaze: disheveled, flushed, and undeniably wanted. I wondered if he could feel my heartbeat through my clothes.
Nicolas kissed my cheek, trailing to my ear and down my neck like pointillism. His face buried into my skin, teeth nipping the sensitive flesh and drawing pleased sounds from deep in my throat. I held him, running my fingers into his hair, memorizing the texture. It was softer than I’d predicted, a thick mass of fine strands that offered little resistance to my touch.
His hands locked in place as his breathing grew more ragged. He shivered despite the heat of the fireplace and us, and I realized quickly that it was not from the cold but from the sheer effort of containing himself. The understanding struck hard: the prince of Antier was shaking because ofme.This man, who had taken mistresses to his bed, was trembling like a virgin, and from so little. The curse made me his first in a way those other women could never be.
“Alana,” he murmured against my throat, the vibration of my name travelling through my skin. “We... I should…”
He didn’t pull away. His fingers dug into my hips in silent warfare with his thoughts. I felt him fighting himself, and suddenly, curiously, I wanted him to lose that internal battle.
The thought shocked me. Why did my body crave his touch? When did the simple desire to survive court life transform into this burning in my own chest? I could blame the fire for the heat in my cheeks, but not for the way my pulse quickened when his lips found that spot below my ear.
“You’re shaking,” I whispered. He went rigid.
I pulled back to look at him, and what I saw frightened me. His eyes were almost black with want, his careful control hanging by a thread. He’d been completely undone by my clumsy, inexperienced affections.
“I could ask anything of you right now,” I realized aloud, wonder in my voice. “Couldn’t I?”
Nicolas’ laugh was pained. “You could ask me to tear down the walls with my bare hands, and I’d try.” His thumb carefully brushed my chin. “But please don’t ask me for more than I can give you with our honor intact, Alana. I don’t think I could say no to you right now.”
The word ‘honor’ cooled my blood, but as Nicolas pressed his forehead to mine, I knew with certainty that even if that fateful day had never happened, even if Nicolas had never succumbed to the curse, I would have wanted something like this. How many nights had I fallen asleep clutching tales of such desire, never imagining I’d inspire it myself?
“Three months,” he said against my lips, the tides of war finally turning within him. It was a victory for chastity, a loss for the desperation inside of me. “And then…”
He didn’t finish, but his hands told me everything as they slowly, reluctantly helped me back to solid ground. He picked up the pins from the floor, using his fingers to brush my hair into some semblance of order.
“Winnie will fix it,” I assured him. “Don’t worry.”
Nicolas huffed, awkwardly handing me the hairpins. “Thank the gods. I had no idea what I was doing.” I smiled back.
