His response is a muffledmphfagainst the cold stones.
“I don’t… I think…” I heave a sigh, my words getting lost in the mess that is my brain. “Friedrich, I can’t,” I finally manage.
He goes stiff next to me. His breathing is so shallow I can barely feel the rise and fall.
“It’s too much,” I breathe.
“Don’t.” He pushes himself up to sit, swinging his legs around to face the front of the church and catching my eyes as I remain on the floor. “Don’t pull away from me, Aurelia.”
I want to kiss away all the hurt lining his face, butthat won’t help either of us. His jaw ticks, and for once, he drops his gaze first.
“I have to, Friedrich. We can’t keep up like this.”
“Like what?” His voice is getting louder.
I sit up, too. I have to be on even ground with him if I’m going to have the courage to say what has to be said. “Like there’s a chance that this could be more than just a fling.”
“Don’t you want that chance?”
I throw my hands up.How can he be so obtuse?“Of course, I want that to be possible, but we both know it never will be. You have to get married, soon, and to someone within your precious nobility.”
“Do you think I’m happy about that? Do you think I want to marry one of those vipers who only cares about the elevation in her status?” He’s shouting now. Really shouting. Not the fun kind when his team makes a great play or he’s razzing his friends at the bar.
“No,” I croak. I slide over to him, hip to hip, and place a hand on his cheek, turning him to face me again. His blue eyes are rimmed with red as I stroke his beard with my thumb. “And, god, I don’t want that for you either.”
“Please, don’t do this, Aurelia.” A single tear slips down his cheek, and my soul shatters on the rocky floor.
“You’ve already let your heart lead you too far down this path that you know we can’t follow.”
He’s silent for a moment, his breathing cominghard, eyes searching mine. Finally, he whispers, “I could abdicate.”
I jump back, dropping my hand from his face and pushing away from him. “Friedrich, no! You can’t. I won’t let you.” I stand and start to pace in front of the altar, dragging my hands through my hair, messing up the bun that’s already about to fall out. “See, this is why we have to stop. You’re talking nonsense now.”
He’s on his feet too, but he stays at the end of the aisle, watching me pace with arms crossed. “It’s not nonsense, Aurelia. Princes before me have done the same in pursuit of love.”
The word stops me dead, and the very air in my lungs has abandoned me. “Love?”
“Yes, the worthiest pursuit. The thing that wars are fought over. What makes the poets write verse and musicians sing songs.”
“We’ve only known each other for two months.” This is insane. He can’t love me. It’s not allowed.Ican’t allow it, can’t allow my heart to think that being in love is even an option.
He’s in front of me now, taking both my hands in his. “Yes, and in those two months I’ve grown to know a woman who is fierce and kind and nurturing. Who gives so much of herself because she can’t help but do so, with no expectation of return. A woman that’s loyal and smart and subtly funny.” He puts a finger under my chin, lifting my face to his, our lips mere inches from each other. “I’ve grown to love a woman who sees me as Friedrich the man, not Friedrich the prince.”
His words are a wrecking ball to the walls I’ve constructed over many years.He loves me?I must be crazy. I’ve gone completely insane. My brain is quiet, all the alarms going off as I ran are suddenly silent. The only feeling left in me is the fire I always feel when he’s close like this, when his hands are on me, and our bodies are trying to occupy the same space.
“Fritz,” I practically whimper.
He crashes his lips to mine, needy and desperate, as if he’s trying to force all the words he said to take root inside me. And god help me, I can’t stop him. My body needs his touch like it needs oxygen to live.
I can feel his erection growing against my thigh second by second, and even though we just got off together not two hours ago, I’m dying to have him again. The way he ruts against me, I know he feels the same. I moan against his lips, and his hands leave my hair to cup my behind, hoisting me up with strength that still surprises me. My legs go instinctively around his waist and my arms around his neck.
He carries me up the steps into the sanctuary and kneels on the red carpet before the altar, my body laid out below him. His kisses are reverent now, slow and worshipful along the collar of my shirt; his hips are no longer seeking my center.
He makes quick work of my damp sweater, tossing it aside before tugging my leggings down too. He groans his approval when he sees I’m not wearing any panties underneath.
“So naughty, Nanny Sumner.”
I want to smile at him, to grin and blush like the shy girl I have always been for him. But heat and lust and need are warring against the fear and the understanding of what must be done. And if I have to leave, if I must be the voice of reason here, I need to have one last moment with the man who has taught me to love my body, to enjoy my sexuality, to not be ashamed to seek pleasure in another.
