As she lifted it, he tightened his hold on his, which rested against his thigh.
She lunged hard, but he sidestepped and swiftly raised his sword, twisting his blade just beneath hers, close to the wrist, and in a single, fluid motion flicked upward. Ceci lost her grip and the blade flew from her hand, spinning in the air before clattering to the floor.
He took a step toward her, slipping the flat of his blade under the strap of her nightgown.
She lifted her chin and met his gaze. “Now thou mayest claim thy prize.”
He said nothing, but only lowered his blade and stared back at her.
“And what would that be?” she asked.
“I thought you knew.”
She tilted one shoulder in a kind of half shrug. “Come on, then,” she said, taking a step forward.
She halted suddenly when he swiftly lifted his blade so that the tip was positioned just above the scooped neckline of her nightgown.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked.
“To … my … bedroom. Or do you prefer yours?”
When he remained silent, she smirked. “Isn’t that which you doth most desire, to lieth in my bed?”
Without taking his eyes off hers, he shook his head.
She blinked. He watched a blush bloom across her cheeks.
“Well, what then?” she asked.
He took a step forward, forcing her back. He did so again. And again. And again. Until her back met with the wall.
He lowered the blade, let go of it, and the rapier clattered to the floor.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Ceci and Clarke
Ceci
His warm breath dusted her flesh as he lowered himself.
He was on his knees. She gazed down at him.
“What are you doing? You won.”
“I know that.”
That’s not Sir Stick’s voice.
It was the voice of the Man in the Iron Mask. Low and laced with a rough edge that made her entire body quiver. As a hush escaped her lips, her body jerked.
She could see he caught it. He grinned.
Cocky son-of-a—
His hands slipped under her nightgown and traveled up her thighs, his skin smooth like liquid silk until the coarse patches on his palms scraped her flesh, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Those hands stopped suddenly when they reached her hips.
His eyes flashed. They’d always resembled warm caramel, but now she saw silver and gold flints suddenly flicker and then disappear, like pulsating pixies jumping out from behind trees in the forest, set on doing mischief.
