Page 60 of Tragic Empire
Setting the gift down, I throw my arms around my husband’s neck and hug him hard. He grunts softly at my attack, but doesn’t push me away. His arms slowly wrap around my back in return, and I rest my head against his hard chest. We’re only ever this close at night when he holds me until I fall asleep, but I can’t help physically showing him my appreciation.
A brief kiss is pressed to the top of my head before Cassio ushers me upstairs. He leaves me alone in my room, and I take his advice without argument. Soaking in a steamy, bubbly bath, I savor every single strawberry in the box. They’re my favorite kind, after all. Ruby red, perfectly ripe, and only dipped in the finest milk chocolate NYC has to offer.
I hadn’t realized that Cassio paid attention the last time Agnes picked these up for me, especially since he wasn’t home. I did share with Colton and Armani though—since Agnes was brilliant enough to buy extra—so perhaps one of them told him.
Either way, I’m thrilled that he somehow knew. The treat, coupled with the luxurious bath were enough to pull the tension straight out of me. Enough to make me sleepy and crave the nap Cassio suggested. I doze off only seconds after my head hits the pillow, and dream about absolutely nothing.
* * *
A sweet, savory scent lulls me out of the most peaceful sleep I’ve had in weeks. I wake up smiling, feeling a small ache in my cheeks that lets me know I’ve been doing it in my sleep.
When my eyes blink open, I find Cassio by the side of my bed, setting a steaming bowl down on my bedside table. Rubbing my blurry eyes, I blink rapidly in disbelief.
“You made me the soup?” My voice cracks, eyes now fixated on the beautifully made ramekin of French onion soup. The bread and cheese on top is broiled to perfection. Just looking at it has my mouth watering. “It must have taken you hours…”
“Only two and a half,” Cassio says, trying to downplay the action.
My bottom lip wobbles, an overwhelming surge of gratefulness filling me up inside. This man treats me with the sort of kindness that most people only ever dream about. He’s a walking talking fairytale, and his ring is onmyfinger.
My feet are shaky underneath me as I stand, invading my husband’s personal space. Like before, he doesn’t back away from my approach. He watches me carefully, his gaze hot on my face. Only this time, I’m not going in for a simple hug. My right hand trembles as I lift it to his face, hoping he won’t step back as I lay it on his strong jaw.
He doesn’t move, hell, I don’t know if he even breathes. Rising up on my toes, my chest brushes against his, and our lips hover millimeters apart. Gathering every bit of courage I have, I slowly lean forward and close the gap. As soon as we touch, my knees go weak and my eyelids fall. His lips are so soft, and something inside of me seems to flutter at the taste of him.
For a second, I think Cassio won’t kiss me back—that he’ll just stand in front of me in shock. But before I can pull back to check in with him, he takes me by surprise. Big, warm hands grasp my hips and tug me even tighter against his frame. His mouth presses forward, lips parting to move with sensual precision. A whimper vibrates up my throat, and an ache begins to build in my core.
My fingers migrate around the back of his neck, threading through the soft edge of his hair. I hold him there tight, desperate to draw this out. This kiss isn’t chaste like the one that sealed our marriage bond, this is something else entirely.
After only seconds of kissing, I can feel arousal pooling in my knickers, and heat crawling up my neck. Signs of unmistakable desire that have me craving more. Feeling bold, I move my unoccupied hand from my side, dragging it up the defined muscles of Cassio’s stomach to rest on his firm chest. He kisses me harder in response, forcing an all-out moan to slip from my lips to his.
Our connection breaks and my eyes blink open. He’s still holding me firmly, the space between us hardly there at all.
“Cassio,” I rasp, feeling my heart racing in my chest.
“Who was so awful to you that the simple act of being cooked for earns me a kiss like that?” Tucking a stray bit of hair behind my ear, his thumb traces my bottom lip before he returns his hand to my hip.
“That wasn’t a simple act,” I disagree, shaking my head. “And I didn’t kiss you just because you cooked for me. I’ve been thinking about it for days.”
He makes a deep humming sound. “Is that right, little wife?”
“I don’t even think you see how incredible to me you’ve been,” I admit in a shy murmur. “You do all these considerate things, expect nothing in return, and I don’t know what to do about it.”
“You don’t have to do anything about it, Ana,” Cassio says sternly. “You’re my wife, and I’m going to treat you as such. No matter how we came together, it’s my duty to assure that we stay together. Myhonor, Ana.”
“How can you say things like that and not expect affection in return?” I ask, licking my lips. “You make me feel things, Cassio. Things I never expected…” I trail off, swallowing hard.
“Things you never expected to feel again?” He asks the question like he already knows the answer. Like he’s familiar with the concept. My heart gives a hard thump, and my head dips in a nod.
“Did you know that you’re only the second person I’ve kissed?”
Cassio tilts his head, and his hands momentarily flex around my hips. “I guess that’s something else we have in common then, isn’t it?”
Shocked by his confession, I blink and try to digest it. “You were only ever with Isobel?”
He nods once.
Just like me with Cole.
“We’re both each other’s second kiss,” I realize aloud.
