Perhaps it was the bouquet resting beside her on the carriage seat. The scent of wild lavender consumed him, and he leaned forward, pressing a kiss to her inner thigh.
Edith’s breath caught. Her lips parted as though she had no control over them, and she moaned, before biting her lower lip to stifle the sound.
“Daenae fash,” Aaron murmured, looking up at her through his eyelashes. “Nay one will hear.”
With that, he moved his hand up, stopping only once his fingers had found the heat between her legs.
It was as though he had broken something within her. Her hips moved against his touch, her wetness coating his fingers. He teased her entrance and then stopped, his breathing heavy.
His gaze met hers as she opened her eyes, her breathing ragged.
“Please.” The word was barely a whisper past her lips.
Aaron pulled back. He could not take her like this. Not in this manner, and especially not for her first time. He held her gaze for a moment longer before leaning down, pressing his lips to her inner thigh.
Edith’s hand came to his head, her fingers tangling in his long, black hair.
It was incredibly difficult to even try to hold back. It was as though her very essence fought a battle with his grip on control. He allowed himself to let go, tasting her sweetness with the tip of his tongue.
“Aaron,” she moaned, and he had never been more pleased to hear his name.
He groaned against her, and her hips jerked against his face.
The carriage creaked loudly. The horse whinnied. And yet none of it mattered. Edith climaxed against his mouth, and he stroked her through it, wringing every last tremor from her.
Eventually, after several long breaths, she went limp. Her feet were braced against the seat behind him, and her dress was bunched around her waist.
Gently, Aaron helped her up, rising from between her legs. Only now did he realize how small the carriage truly was. He adjusted her skirt, smoothing the fabric back into place. Then he bent to retrieve the discarded undergarment from the floor of the carriage.
He held the thin material in his hand for a moment, unsure what to do with it.
“Shall I…” he trailed off, turning toward her.
Edith burst into awkward laughter, her face flushing a deep red.
Aaron smiled—a real smile, unguarded in a way he never allowed anyone to witness—and tucked the garment into his coat pocket instead of returning it, coaxing another startled laugh from her.
He settled back across from her, watching as she gathered herself, her fingers working uselessly at strands of hair that refused to behave. She gave up after a moment, leaning her head back against the seat with a soft sigh.
The carriage lurched forward again, the horse finding its steady pace along the dark road, and within minutes, her breathing had evened out.
By the time they reached the outskirts of Hallow, Edith had fallen asleep, her head resting against his shoulder, her hair loose and tangled across his arm.
Aaron did not wake her. He sat with her like that for the remainder of the journey, watching the rise and fall of her chest, the medallion at her throat catching the faint moonlight through the carriage window.
She was peaceful. Far more peaceful than he’d ever expected to see her.
When they arrived at the castle, he lifted her carefully into his arms, her weight settling easily against his chest as he carried her inside.
Caelan was waiting outside. He said nothing as Aaron passed, only gave a slight nod of his head.
Aaron climbed the narrow stairs to the east wing with care, worked her chamber door open without waking her, and laid her down gently on the bed.
He drew the blanket over her.
She will leave.
The thought settled in his chest as he straightened, and for a long moment, he simply stood there, watching her.
