He does as commanded. Hesitant and dizzy at first. Pausing for my next instruction. His left boot is a few inches away from hisfirst obstacle—my napkin.
“We lose if you touch anything, so don’t take a step more until I’ve said so. I want you to slide to the right like you’re about to lead someone off into a dance—okay, wait! That’s perfect. Now, two steps forward. Okay, one more.”
He leans forward, catching himself before he can completely collapse.
“You’re doing lovely. Now three steps to your right?—”
He sends one of the chalices tipping and rolling away, and I cover my mouth as I giggle. “Sorry, that was my mistake. I meantmyright, but it should have been your left.”
I coach him through the rest of the obstacles with ease. The closer he gets, the more confident his steps. Until he’s passed the last obstacle and he stops, waiting for more commands two paces away from me.
Smiling wide, I clap. “See? You have no problem trusting. It’s only that you’re?—”
He takes the last two paces to me until I’m forced to step back with a gasp at how quickly he’s advanced. My back bumps up against the marble column, and he’s close enough that his torso brushes mine. I tilt my head up to look at him. As if I might be able to see what’s behind the crimson napkin.
“You’re right,” his voice is soft, a gentle smile on his lips as he leans his head down toward me. “I have a hard time trusting because I’m scared.”
I swallow against the heat creeping to my face. The vulnerability from his lips. Each breath in our lungs silently scrapes our clothing together. Clearing my throat, I reach up for the blindfold. As my fingers slip into the space between his temples and the cloth, his hands hesitantly grab my wrists.
We stand there for a still moment. Waiting for the other to move. Then he guides my arms down gently, inch by inch, I release my grip and slip my hands down until I find myself cupping his angled jaw. He freezes. Waiting for the next set of instructions like this is still part of the game.
My heartbeat pulses between us, stretching each second into something impossibly long. Inching off the column, I press my body into him. My hips first, then my chest. A soft breath escapes his lips, something of serene surprise.
Pulling his face down to mine, I graze my nose against his, until I tilt my chin into him and our lips are aligned. A breath away.
A moment away.
I search for the eyes behind the blindfold. Hungry to know what he’s thinking. His fingers tighten on my forearms, and my eyes flutter closed at the heaviness of whatever we’re swimming in.
I touch my lips to his—a gentle test at first. Until I’m lost to the draw of him. Sucked into his presence like a gravity I cannot escape.
Rather weakly, I whisper the final command onto his mouth, “Kiss me.”
He inches forward, pressing his lips fully to mine. Soft and warm at first. He sighs in bliss. Gently, he guides me backward until I’m pressed against the column.
Our kissing is slow and meaningful. Tender. He follows my movements, my pushes and pulls. Until his fingers are threading in my hair, nails digging into my scalp as we find a rhythm. Once I open my mouth to him, inviting him to taste me, the pain in my skull increases with the pressure he’s gripping me.
His tongue slides against mine as we deepen our kiss. A pained groan reverberating in his chest unlocks a caged fever. He breaks away from my mouth, showering me in warm kisses from the corner of my mouth all the way to the corner of my jaw, then down my neck. I knot my fingers in his long hair, arching my chest up to him. At the base of my neck he sucks in a long, shaky breath.
Then his lips are there. Long and open-mouthed kisses, with a drag of sharp teeth that buckle my knees. A moan slips out from me at the tease of pain. He seizes me behind the legs and lifts me with ease, pressing me back harder to the column to balance me as he slides between my thighs. I wrap them around his waist, locking my ankles and not caring about my bare legs showing as my gown pools at my thighs. He keeps pressing his weight into me until I feel him all the way to my toes.
My body is onfire.
Every nerve ending within me roaring in desire. Begging me to get closer to him. I can’t help recalling the vision of a man pinning me against a tree and having his way with me. Perhaps I got it wrong—perhaps it was supposed to be a marble column. Or maybe, just maybe, this is the beginning. And a night with him in the forest is coming.
That this is fate—him and I.
Oh, Gods, forgive me. I’m not one to be scandalous, but the way he’s kissing me. Touching me. Pressing me firmly againstmy back, I can’t help the desire-driven thoughts. As I’m gripping his head, letting him tease my neck, I pull in my heels to silently beckon him closer.
He growls beneath my ear and slams himself right up between my thighs, hard exactly where I need him. I shudder, lost to the magic of my own passion. Pulsing with warmth, I buck my hips up to him with a whimpered moan. Grinding myself against him and chasing that delicious friction. Pleased that he’s just as entangled in his own desire, the thick length of him is hard against me. Both of us are panting heavily as the space, the boundaries, the unspoken formalities between us, all fades away.
“Cyrus,” I breathe, fighting to keep my eyes open as he grinds his erection into me. “I need more.” I guide his head from my neck to the swell of my breasts.
The door to the dining room opens.
The glimmer of shining golden armor flashes in my peripheral vision and Devin calls out, “Cyrus!”
Cyrus stiffens. The desire coursing through me snaps away like it was never there. His warm mouth disappears, and as I unlock my legs from his waist, he sets me on my feet.
