Page 17 of Mistress of Hours

He held her gaze as his hands shifted, grazing the delicate lace of her undergarments. He slipped his fingers beneath the fabric and was met with curls of downy hair that were already wet with Evienne’s arousal. Her breath came in pants now, her lovely breasts rising and falling against the constraints of her corset.

An inch lower, and Orion felt the slickness of her core against his fingertips. He let out a breathy moan at the feel of it, moving his fingers around her opening. He felt her legs tensearound him as he brushed over her most sensitive bundle of nerves.Orion was captivated by her every breath, her every reaction to his touch.

He rested the base of his forefinger on her most sensitive spot, applying slight pressure; his middle finger joined to make a V shape on either side of her opening, massaging where he knew those nerves spread out beneath her skin.

Evienne moaned softly and began to rock her hips, increasing his pressure. He wanted to feel her cunt pulse around his fingers; he couldn’t wait any longer before he slid a finger inside her.

He worked her clit with his thumb as his finger stroked her inner wall. He added a second and Evienne’s head fell back. She was tight on his hand, slick and swollen. He watched her riding him, his own release building just from staring at her. It was as if he could feel her pleasure as his own. He was overcome with the need to take her, to fill her.

He stopped himself before his thoughts became too unruly; he knew he couldn’t get attached to this woman. He was indulging his attraction to her, but he was in this city for a reason and he couldn’t lose sight of it. Yet every thought fled his mind when Evienne went silent, holding her breath as her inner walls clenched around his fingers.

Her breath left her in a rush, a loud moan escaping her lips as she came. He felt every pulse of her cunt on his fingers as he stroked her through her release.

He slowly withdrew, bringing his hand to his mouth as Evienne stared down at him, breathless. He licked his fingers, and the taste of her had his orgasm crashing into him without warning. He was drowning in her, the feel of her body over his, the pleasure coursing through his veins.

After a moment, his mind cleared enough to process what had just occurred. He had finished in his pants like some besottedschool boy, and he found he didn’t even care. He refused to be embarrassed about what Evienne did to him; she was a beautiful woman.

Evienne glanced down, noting the wet spot forming on the front of his trousers, and smiled at him when she realized what he had done. She leaned down to kiss him, tasting herself on his tongue.

His anxiety calmed further when she relaxed against him, resting her head on his shoulder. She seemed to be reveling in the power she wielded over him in this moment. In every moment, if he were to be completely honest with himself. Instinctively, his arms wrapped around her, holding her tight as though he cherished her. Orion was acting on instinct, confused by his own impulses, but too sated and content to fight them.

She was certainly worthy of desire and devotion; she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen and seemed to be a force of nature—loyal, and bright, and passionate. But why this instant compulsion? Why did he feel suddenly as if he might die if this woman did not sleep beside him tonight?

The answer hit him with sudden and startling force, and the memory of the strange pull he had felt when he first saw her came rushing back to the front of his mind. He shouldn’t get ahead of himself—it wasn’t possible—but if by some miracle he was right, his whole world was about to turn on its head.

After long moments, Evienne shifted off of his lap and stood. She was flushed, her hair tousled, but she smiled at him.

“Thank you for such a lovely evening, professor,” she said with a touch of laughter in her voice.

“The pleasure is all mine, High Sangviere. Will I see you tomorrow?” He asked, unable to mask the desperation that tinged his voice. He rose from the sofa and stood before her, looking down at her upturned face.

“Maybe,” Evienne said, clearly holding back a laugh.

He offered his arm, and she took it. Orion couldn’t bear to be parted from her just yet, so he asked, “May I walk you to your room?”

She nodded, and they made their way out of the library and through the halls of the palace.

“Will you be able to find your way back to your own room from here?” Evienne asked when they arrived at her door.

“I’m sure I’ll be fine.” He smiled down at her.

“Goodnight, Orion,” she said over her shoulder as she slipped into her room. He watched her go, and all he could think was that after this, after tonight; he would never be the same again.

Chapter Eleven

Evienne had barelyslept, her mind fixated on puzzling out what had happened between her and Orion. She had had trysts before, ones that burned as hot and started just as quickly, but those had always just been lust. What she had done with Orion last night had made herfeelin a way that was acutely uncomfortable. She wasn’t sure if she could trust herself to be that close to anyone again. Her willingness to love had ruined her the last time she let a partner in.

She enjoyed spending time with Orion—and she was obviously attracted to him—but he was only here for a month. She knew, logically, that nothing could really come of it. That’s why she had jumped into it without any real hesitation last night. She found herself wanting to be open with him, despite how hard it felt. The way he had finished at just the taste of her, it had been so vulnerable. She didn’t think he could have fabricated that. His interest in her, at least sexually, was genuine, and she wanted more. Normally she would balk at the idea of anything long-term, but now she found herself disappointed that it wasn’t a possibility with him. That disappointment terrified her.

She was so wrapped up in her own thoughts that she slammed into someone as she rounded a corner on her way to the library for tea with Cecelia. She really had to start watching where she was going; twice in one week was bad even for her. Before she could recover, her mind was suddenly flooded with images; an old man with white hair was speaking to her. No—someone else—but she was seeing through their eyes.

“I suppose go if you must,” the richly dressed old man almost grunted the words.

“I believe it is important for us to represent Beitar at this celebration; we have remained isolated too long,” Solon’s voice answered.

“Do as you see fit, Lord Solon. I give you my leave,” the old man answered lazily.

She realized that the other man she was seeing had a crown upon his head; he must be Beitar’s King. It had been surprising to her that Solon and Orion had been allowed to come at all given Beitar’s policy of isolation, but she was even more confused now having seen their King’s nonchalant attitude. Evienne drifted back into her own mind, only to find herself staring up into Solon’s handsome face.

---