“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I answer stoically, and his gaze quickly morphs into a glare.
“I’m not playing games, Slave,” he warns me, straightening from his casual lean against the wall. The movement alone feels like a threat, but I refuse to be cowed by it.
“I’m a blade slave,” I remind him. “We don’t play. We obey or we die. We kill or we’re killed. I wouldn’t know a game if it bit me on the ass.”
He steps toward me but freezes when a pair of boots can be heard coming down the stairs. My heart jumps with anticipation, and his menacing gaze roves over me as though he’s debating whether to come for me despite the company clomping down the stairs. It sends a thrill flaring through me. One, strangely, not tinged with a hint of fear. There’s a certain exhilaration that loosens my tongue when it comes to snapping at these Scorpions and not giving them what they want. I’ve been powerless for so long, and as much as I don’t want to die, I have to admit that I like snatching my power from the clutches of the entitled bastards who can’t see me coming past their own corrupt and overinflated egos.
I glance toward the entrance and debate whether I should hide. Unfortunately, the closest cluster of shadows is where the skeleton is standing...or was. When my gaze lands back on the spot the Scorpion was just occupying, there’s nothing there but a blank dark wall. I try to stretch my senses to see if he’s cloaked himself in darkness or if he really is gone, but before I can discern one way or the other, a pair of strong legs cuffed in deep blue silk come into view.
Tension bleeds from my shoulders as Leto descends the remaining stairs and strides into the cellar. He has an empty carafe in his hands, and his russet eyes warm when they land on me.
“So this is where you snuck off to,” he declares, heat suddenly glimmering in his gaze. He looks behind him at the stairs and then sets his empty carafe on the long table.
Before I know what he’s doing, Leto closes the distance between us. His callused hands cup my face as he drops his lips to mine. The kiss is frenzied, hungry, and I study his closed eyes and pinched brow for a beat before I push him back, breaking the claim his lips have on mine.
“What are you doing?” I demand a hint breathlessly as my eyes snap to the shadows darkening the wall to the left of the entrance.
Is the Scorpion still watching?
“At the rate Tilleo and his guests are going, we’ll never make it to the roof tonight,” Leto tells me, stepping into me to bring our bodies flush again. “But they’re drunk and distracted right now. I’m seizing an opportunity,” he adds, his lips once again finding mine.
This time, he doesn’t give me a moment to hesitate, to think. His tongue demands entrance and his kiss turns unexpectedly devouring. Leto and I have always had something between us. I wouldn’t call it passion or devotion, more like we’re a soft spot to land in a world made of iron and spikes. But the way he’s kissing me right now has my mind jumping to curious places.
I give in, closing my eyes and relishing the feel of Leto’s mouth against mine. We shouldn’t be doing this, risking ourselves this way, but I can’t find it in me to care. I probably should. My future is nonexistent, but Leto still has a chance. I shouldn’t selfishly steal his prospects and possibilities away, but this is just like mouthing off to the Order of Scorpions and killing Crit. It’s freeing, and all I’ve ever wanted to be is free.
Leto grabs my ass, squeezing it once and groaning into my mouth before he lifts me and sets me on the table. I palm the back of his neck, the stubble of his shaved head rough against my hands as I pull him impossibly closer. My thighs spread, offering his hard body a silken spot to settle against. His deft fingers unhook Tilleo’s crest and chains from my hips, and I stop myself from running my nails up Leto’s back. I can’t mark him, I remind myself. It’s one thing for me to get lost in this, but I can’t leave any hint of myself on his body. I won’t make him a target to seal his fate like Tilleo’s done with mine.
Leto’s lips break from mine, and he drops them down my neck as one hand reaches under the silk strip covering my left breast to pinch my taut nipple. His other hand reaches for the fabric draped over my slit. As though he’s pulling back a curtain, he draws the dark blue panel over my right thigh, exposing my center completely. My slit is bare, any hair on my body from the chin down long since magicked away like all the other blade slaves. We say nothing to each other as Leto runs the pad of his fingers over my seam. I’m ready for him, and when he feels it, he smiles that sneaky smile I’m partial to.
“You owe me from last time,” I remind him, and his smile grows even more.
We almost got caught on our last adventure on the back roof of the ludere. It made us hurry, which meant he enjoyed it far more than I did. I require more warming up, we’ve discovered over the years.
“Ah yes, the tally is in my favor, how could I forget?” he agrees, reaching into his flowy silk pants and stroking himself.
Russet eyes sparkle at me from a face that’s given me far more pleasure to look at than I’d ever admit. Hungrily, I watch that face drop between my thighs, his stare fixed on mine as his tongue snakes out and licks up my seam. I spread my legs even farther for him, a needy moan slinking up my throat as his mouth parts me and his tongue and lips wrap around my clit. He sucks me into his mouth, his face diving between my thighs like I’m a feast that was just laid out before him.
I grab his head, shamelessly pressing him against me as I throw my head back and grind against his mouth. I quietly pant as he works my body, trying my hardest to keep silent, to keep us safe. His fingers press into me, coaxing out a low moan, and when I bring my head up so I can look down at Leto licking my cunt, my eyes catch on a pair of gleaming black orbs.
I tense and pull in a sharp inhale, my stunned stare landing on the glamoured face of a skeleton. His eyes are suffused with heat as they trail from my face down my body and settle on what Leto is doing between my thighs. My left tit is exposed, and I fight the urge to cover myself, to close my legs and block the Scorpion’s view, but for some reason I hesitate. His shoulders are stiff as he studies Leto tonguing my seam. Leto slowly adds another finger to my glistening entrance, the pair of digits rhythmically pumping in and out of me as his lips suck on my core.
All at once, I find myself wondering what it would be like if the fingers now fucking me faster and faster looked like bones instead of the tan skin wrapped around Leto’s strokes. I roll my hips against Leto’s mouth and fingers, urging him on, but my eyes never leave the inky stare of the assassin hiding in the shadows.
Why is he here?I ask myself as tingles start coalescing in my limbs. Better yet, why am I allowing him to stay? I could call attention to him. I should stop Leto, straighten up, and scurry back up to the party with a full carafe of wine, like a good obedient blade slave is supposed to do. I could even try to kill the Scorpion for taking liberties with his eyes. Yet all I do is stare at him as Leto’s administrations begin to culminate and peak.
A white hot star gathers in my center. A few more rough pumps of Leto’s fingers have the star bursting inside of me. I bite my lip and toss my head back, my eyes still transfixed on the skeleton’s as I come undone. Mercilessly, I grind against Leto’s face, wringing every ounce of pleasure I can from his mouth and fingers. He groans against my cunt, and I can tell by the small twitches in his muscles that he’s finding his release too.
Quickly, I wonder if the house slaves will know what we did down here. Will they spot Leto’s puddle under the table or smell the forbidden pleasure in the air? Will they keep our secret or rat us out? Then again, they might be preoccupied with the body tucked in the shadows. Crit won’t stay hidden forever.
A small smile pulls at the lips hiding under the skeleton’s glamoured white teeth, and I realize I have bigger problems than the house slaves. I rage-jerked-off one of the Order of Scorpions, mouthed off to the rest of them, and now I just let this mystery guest watch as I fucked another blade slave’s face. I’m pretty sure Tilleo has ordered me to kill one of them, at which point I’ll be tortured and executed, and I have a feeling the two remaining Scorpions will be the first in line for that.
I’ve spent so long being tightly wound and in control, and now I’ve lost it. I’m dancing with flames as though I’m fireproof, but in truth, my entire existence is dry kindling. Leto rises to his feet, reaching for a rag on the table meant to clean up spills, and uses it to free his fingers and face of any evidence of me. I hop off the table, covering myself with the panels of my dress, and quickly refasten the metal belt holding it all together around my hips. By the time I look up, the skeleton is once again gone.
Leto is tucking himself back into his pants as I fill both our carafes with wine. I don’t wait for him to say anything before I take the stairs out of the cellar two at a time and find my way back to the loud and boisterous party. With a huff, a servant takes the wine from me, but nothing more is said or expressed as they whisk off to fill up empty glasses. Heart pounding in my chest, I once again find my place in front of the Dusk Court’s tapestry.
Unable to help myself, my eyes immediately land on the three members of the Order of Scorpions. Their backs are all still to me, and a thick-bodied male is engaged in an animated conversation with all three. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think I imagined the presence of one of them down in the cellar. Just as that thought flits through my mind, one of the sable-clad skeletons reaches into an inner pocket of his long vest and pulls out a thin, delicate dagger. He uses it to stab a fruit tart on a tray to his right, bringing the pastry to his skeletal mouth where he savors every bite until it’s gone.
Goose bumps pebble my skin as I watch. How much longer before he’s using that dagger to cut out my heart? I wish I could say never, but everything inside of me is screaming that it’s coming sooner rather than later. I just wish whatever is now broken inside of me didn’t feel so eager for it.
