Thirty-Three
Mina
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I stopped andpointed down the hall. “All the men invited to stay at the palace have a room in that wing, but I have no idea which one was assigned to you.” I tugged Alan back into motion. “But that’s all right. I know where to find a bed you are welcome to use for the night.”
He chuckled. “Isn’t that convenient?”
I glanced back at him, and suddenly the palace was too large, the rooms too far apart. I moved faster, uncertain how much longer I could keep my hands off him. Then we reached my suite, the door shut behind us, and all thoughts of restraint disappeared. I threaded my fingers through his thick brown hair and pressed my lips to his, the heels on my slippers putting us almost at the same height.
Alan’s thumb brushed over my wrist, following the line of my bracelet. His other hand landed on the small of my back, holding me as close as my skirts allowed. I sank into sensation, my pulse racing. The callouses on Alan’s fingers were a contrast to my soft skin, a delicious contrast I wanted to feel on more than my wrist.
“Bedroom,” I mumbled against his lips, not willing to pull away.
He kissed his way down my throat and licked the skin along the edge of my necklace. “We’ll get there, eventually.”
My awareness of the gold circling my throat reminded me of a different necklace, one sitting in a jewelry box in my bedroom. I took a step back, knowing that I needed to be responsible. “I need my contraceptive enchantment.”
Alan blinked at me a few times, understanding slowly replacing lust. Then a wolfish smile told me that my practicality hadn’t dimmed his desire at all. “Then you’d better get it quick.”
I hurried through the sitting room and into my bedroom, Alan at my heels. I flipped open the engraved lid of the box and pulled out the simple gold chain I had worn while I was in Skorsa, but now there was only a single gold disk dangling from its length, no diamond. I traced a star on the metal circle, activating the enchantment, and slipped it over my head. Alan watched me, loosening the top laces on his doublet.
“As much as I love seeing you in that gown,” he said, his eyes slowly traveling from my head to my toes and back up, “your other clothes would have been considerably easier to remove.”
I raised a brow. “Should I ring for my maid?”
“Absolutely not.” Alan closed the distance between us, his hands resting on the curve of my waist. His thumbs stroked back and forth. Even through the layers of fabric, the motion was enough to make my blood warm. But I didn’t want any barriers. Neither did he. “You might need to explain how I get you out of the gown; I see no laces.”
I plucked at the pins holding my dress closed, and Alan was there in an instant, taking over the task. Time passed in whispered breaths, brushes of fingers, and featherlight kisses as each inch of skin was exposed. This wasn’t the frantic heat of need I had expected, but a slow smoldering that was more than physical sensation. I felt cherished.
When I stood in front of Alan with my hair down, wearing nothing but my jewelry and golden shoes, and his hooded gaze took me in, I felt worshipped. I reached for the clasp of the heavy gold necklace.
“Leave it.” His voice rasped over my skin.
Remembering the way his fingers and tongue had traced the edges of my jewelry over the course of the evening, I grinned. “You have a thing for gold, huh?”
“I want to see you in nothing but gold. Preferably all pieces I’ve made for you.” He crowded closer, and the back of my knees hit the bed.
I toppled onto the mattress. “I like that plan.”
Leaning over me, Alan traced a finger over the edge of the necklace, past the sapphire pendant and down. Heat followed in the wake of his touch, between my breasts, down to my navel, then around to my hip. His finger swept across to the other hip, never dipping quite as low as I wanted. “I think I’ll make you a gold girdle belt.”
“Please,” I begged, unsure if my next words would be a plea for more or a command for him to move faster.
His other hand joined the first, lifting my leg, tracing more fire over my thighs, leaving me writhing. His fingertips brushed the sensitive skin behind my knees, then he slid his palms down and undid the delicate gold strap of my slipper.
“Alan.”
“Let me,” Alan whispered, lifting my other ankle and removing the second slipper. “Let me show you how much you mean to me. Let me make up for the fact that we’ve been apart for weeks.”
I lifted up on my elbows. “I don’t want an apology. I want you.”
He leaned over and kissed me softly. “You have me.”
The kiss deepened, becoming something beyond conscious control. I don’t know if I pressed up or he pulled me closer, but suddenly my breasts were crushed against his chest, the velvet of the doublet he still wore a delicious tease. But I wanted him.
I pulled back, and tore at his laces. “As much as I love seeing you in these clothes, your usual attire would have been considerably easier to remove.”
