He stirred, but his eyes didn’topen.
“Jarod?” I triedagain.
“Mmm.” His lashes still didn’t rise, but his arm reached over and curled around mywaist.
“Did youentertheguild?”
This time, his lids lifted, and hestared.
“I just had this idea. It’d solve our dilemma, but it’s not ideal. I was hoping that if you couldseeinside the guild, then you could maybe step inside,too.”
His mouth thinned. “I couldn’t get over thethreshold.”
My fragile dream popped like a champagne bubble, and my heart crackled all overagain.
“I’m pleased to hear you’re considering completing your wings, though,” hemurmured.
“I’m not consideringorcompleting them if it means they’ll take me away from you.” My words clattered, heavy likestones.
“Feather. . .”
“Don’t.”
Hesighed.
“We’re never having this conversation again, all right?” Icroaked.
It took a long time for his mouth to form an answer, but in the end, I got the one I wanted: “Okay.”
He pulled me close, and then closer—first, his tongue slid inside of me, and then, his rigid length. Raising my leg to rest over his thigh, he drove in deeper, establishing a measured rhythm that amplified the thumping inside mychest.
Heat built and curled like glittery smoke throughout my body. I looked at him, and he looked right back, and this contact became more intimate than any other place connecting in our bodies. The black of his pupils and the brown of his irises seemed to merge and swirl as he impelled himself deeper, drew back, and thrust again. The chasm of pleasure grew near, and I crushed the rumpled sheets with my fingers, twisting the silk to hold on until he was ready to fall inside withme.
“Feather,” herasped.
My fingers sprang open, and Idove.
And he dove in afterme.
* * *
We didn’t climbout of our silken nest for almost an hour, and I would’ve stayed all day had Jarod not reminded me of his meetings and my private tour ofVersailles.
“I wish you could come with me,” I said, donning a pair of fluid black pants that skimmed the glossy floorboards of his walk-in closet in spite of my four-inch heels. The effect made my legs look almost as long asPetra’s.
How I wished I could forget abouther. . .
After fastening my emerald earrings, I smoothed out the simple white T-shirt I’d tucked into the pants. I so rarely wore pants, convinced skirts were best for my shape, but these were making me rethink my wardrobepreferences.
Jarod walked up from behind and laced his arms around my torso. Even though my heels were high, he still loomed over me. As he took in our reflections in the full-length mirror propped against the wall of his enormous closet, he said, “I can’t let you leave the house looking like this.” When I frowned, he added, “French men are not to betrusted.”
I shook my head, and the spotlight showering us made my hair shine like a sunset—orange and pink and gold. “I look like I’m going towork.”
“Actually, you look like you’re going back inside mybed.”
Before I could roll my eyes, he flung me over hisshoulder.
Laughing, I smacked his back. “Put me down, you sexfiend.”
