Page 27 of Iron Roses

A heavy warmth pours through my mouth, my jaw, down my throat. My lips tingle. My eyes flutter. A low sound builds in my chest—unbidden, breathy.

He kisses her again, deeper now, and the sensation pulls taut through me. My nipples harden. My thighs press together. Heat blooms at my core, startling and electric. I feel his tongue inside my mouth.

I gasp and pull away but he isn’t here, he is with her, over there. So—why?

His hand moves. Grazes her collarbone. The strap of her dress slips. The silk glides off her shoulder like water.

I flinch. My hand flies to my shoulder and finds it bare.

Giovanna sighs, lips parting. Her head tilts as Cassian’s mouth finds the curve of her neck. Her breath hitches. My knees nearly buckle. I grasp the wall beside me—if it is a wall at all—to stay standing.

A sound escapes her. A low, breathy moan and my mouth parts, letting a moan escape me too.

I feel it in my spine.

My nipples ache. A throb pulses low and deep and hot.

Cassian’s hand slides downward, past her ribs, over the curve of her waist. My muscles twitch in anticipation. I feel hands roaming my body.

He kisses her again, harder. His hand disappears beneath the hem of her gown. Her legs shift and so do mine.

His hand cups between her thighs. Fingers gentle. Then—pressing in.

Giovanna’s back arches and so does mine. I choke. A cry bursts from my mouth, cut short as pleasure detonates inside me, sharp and real.

His fingers move inside her—but my walls clench around him. I pant. Sweat beads along my brow as I throw my head back to take in his hands.

My hips move, desperate and automatic, following a rhythm not mine—but now is.

Cassian curls his fingers. I cry out again.

He watches Giovanna’s face—so still, so reverent, his eyes full of something dark and soft and consuming.

But I see everything. I feel everything.

My pulse pounds in my ears. My lips are swollen, parted, desperate.

He leans down, whispers something against her mouth. And I whisper it with him. Not knowing the words. But speaking them anyway.

His palm presses flat against her pelvis as he moves inside her, his pace steady, coaxing something deeper, wetter, more desperate.

I reach forward—toward the bed, toward her, toward him.

And Giovanna’s eyes open, she turns to me and everything stops.

We’re breathing the same breath. My fingers rest like hers do. Cassian doesn’t see me. But somehow—he knows. His hand pauses inside her. His head turns.

Not toward Giovanna. Toward me.

And then it goes dark again.

Chapter Seven – Cassian

The fire snaps in the grate. Lorenzo’s voice cuts through it.

“All ledgers routed through the Forlì drop have been incinerated. Venice too. Trieste—I kept one. It only names dead men.”

I nod. The study doors creak softly behind us. His boots click across the floor.

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