Total pages in book: 52
Estimated words: 48853 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 244(@200wpm)___ 195(@250wpm)___ 163(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48853 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 244(@200wpm)___ 195(@250wpm)___ 163(@300wpm)
I run my fingers through her hair. “I’m so screwed, and you’re so fucking beautiful.”
Her face breaks into a smile. “That’s the first time you’ve said that. And how are you screwed?”
“Is it? I’ve thought it so many times. But you know you’re beautiful.”
“I’ve never been the sort of beautiful that makes a man look at me the way you look at me. Only you’ve given me that.”
I wrap both my arms around Aubrey and crush her against my body. I’m broke, with no future, and the son of the most infamous monster in Paravel, and yet, right now, I’m the luckiest man on earth. My mouth seeks hers, and I kiss her desperately.
When I lay her down in the straw, she molds herself against me, and I feel all the tension leaving my body. For once I want to take it slow, and our lovemaking is achingly tender. I stop halfway through and make her come with my tongue and my fingers deep inside her. Then she pushes me onto my back and straddles me. I want her rocking against me, holding her hips gently in my hands. I sit up as I come, wrapping my arms around her so tightly and burying my face against her.
We lie quietly together after, arms wrapped around each other. Aubrey rolls onto her belly and sits up. “Cassian? What’s been on your mind lately?”
I let out a heavy sigh and study the rough planks of wood overhead. “Too many dark things. I feel like I’m being haunted by the ghost of a man I never even knew.”
“Lungren?”
“He’s everywhere. In this house. In my blood. Knocking around in my head. Every time I look at you, I start thinking that he’d be weirdly proud of me screwing his enemy’s daughter. That he’d think it was funny.” I study Aubrey’s face, wondering if I’ve offended her, but she doesn’t seem shocked.
“Maybe he would, but why does that matter?”
“Because I’m the one having these thoughts. What the hell does it mean about me that something that horrible even occurs to me?”
Aubrey cups my cheek. “It’s not your thoughts that make you the man you are. It’s your actions. If you want to be a better man, then act like it.”
I could try that. The worst has happened, and she’s still here in my arms. “What if I think about how proud I am of this place, and of you, instead?”
“I think that’s a very good idea. Your stables are here. I’m here. The present is what matters.”
I brush my lips against hers, smiling. “You mean screwing you in the stables and calling you my fancy slut?”
She bites her lip and slinks a little closer to me. “Cassian, you can say all the dirty things you want to me. You keep me up at nights in the best possible way, you know.”
I think of her on a big, canopied bed, in a pink and cream bedroom, the moonlight slanting in through the curtains. I wonder if there’s a convenient rose trestle beneath her window that I could climb up to reach her. How I’d love to leave her a gasping mess in her own bed and then slip away into the shadows.
“What are we doing, Lady Aubrey?”
“I have no idea. But I like it.”
I like it, too. I like it far more than anything I’ve known in my sorry life.
“Tell me about the dressage competition,” I ask her, wanting her to talk to me. Wanting to see her smile. “We didn’t get to talk properly about it.”
“Whose fault is that?” she teases. She settles her arms around me and her perfect body against mine. “There was some good competition, and I was thrilled to come first. In France, I usually ended up with one of the top five scores as there are many good riders, but rarely first. I’m looking forward to the international competition. I’ve never competed internationally. I wasn’t allowed to represent France because I wasn’t French.”
I kiss her temple. “You’ll be wonderful. Everyone will see what fine horsewomen Paravel can produce.” Now, there’s a thought. It’s something that would help me a lot, but it could get her into worse trouble with her family.
She notices me staring hard at a knot of wood in the stable wall. “What are you thinking about?
“The stables and your dressage competition. Can I ask you a favor?”
She gazes up at me in mock surprise. “The proud Cassian Bellerose is asking me a favor? Are you feeling all right?”
“Go on, get it out of your system,” I say, tweaking one of her nipples and enjoying the way her eyes flicker with amusement. “You can call Lady Wraye and ask her to put out a press release if you want. Cassian asks for help. Stop the presses.”
“I’ll do that later. Ask me your favor.”