A Storm of Flames and Deceit

15. A Weak Woman

He glances down the stretch of my body- very slowly, might I add- before running a hand up his restless jaw. "I know what you're doing," he grunts, looking back up at my face.

I frown innocently. "What could I possibly be doing?"

"Trying to frustrate me," he replies, leaning back against the cushions, his legs spread temptingly, the perfect width for me to kneel between them. I look back to his face, trying to keep my composure. "It would've almost worked if I didn't know for a fact that you get far too cold at night to ever sleep naked."

I shrug, recovering. "I'm sure I could if I were lying next to a living, breathing furnace of a man," I counter casually, leaning against the wall of the hallway.

He chuckles, rolling to his feet, and crossing the room, only stopping a breath before me. On instinct, I try to take a step backwards, cowering from the beautiful intensity in his amber eyes that way making me forget how to breathe, but I push deeper against the wall. "You're sleeping in my arms tonight, Sweetheart," he tells me. Not an order, but certainly not a request. Certainly not up for debate. He steps closer, his damn furnace body warming me something fierce as he rests his palm so casually on the wall.

I cross my arms stubbornly, looking up at him as my head tilts against the wall. "You don't tell me what to do," I counter, hoping he doesn't smell the want on me.

He tilts his head cutely, leaning down a bit to meet my eyes with his taunting grin. "My bed or yours?"

I feel a deep need continuing to churn between my thighs, still longing from only moments ago when I rode him through our clothes. I push the ache away, shifting the momentum by stepping closer, so close that my nose grazes his lips as I gaze up at him. "I should go change into my nightgown then," I tell him, my smirk indicating the exact nature of said nightgown. "I hope it will be to your liking, Hot Stuff. I'll meet you in your bed." He's in for a long night, and he knows it, swallowing as I shoulder past him to my room, fighting to keep it together until I've slid behind my own door and locked it.

Immediately, I reach through the slit in my gown desperately, pulling my panties aside as my fingers find my aching center. I clamp my hand over my mouth, though the moan is silent. Sagging against the door a bit, my fingers are already drenched as I circle my clit. I shut my eyes, imagining that Eris waits on the other side of the door, his hand down his trousers, his head rolled back against the wood as mine is.

I sink my teeth into my lip, my moans coming as quiet gasps and silent screams as I draw a bit of blood with my teeth. My hand picks up the speed as I imagine Eris' would too in my fantasy. He would have to bite down on his hand to keep himself quiet, but knowing him, the pain would drive him even more crazy. Hell, I'm the same way, the taste of blood on my tongue drawing a shiver down my body.

My release comes not long after, my entire body flexing before I nearly double over, clutching my dresser for support. My thighs are soaked, my breathing heavy and haggard as I fight to stay quiet, opening my eyes only to shut them immediately after.

I need a minute.

In fact, I need several minutes.

But perhaps what I need most of all is several minutes, alone, with Eris Vansera, preferably naked. Groaning as I deliberately pick out my shortest nightgown, I decide that I'll gladly settle for just sleeping in his arms tonight.

...

"By the cauldron, Neph!" Cressida gasps, utterly shocked. "You two made up?"

"More than that," I whine into my hands. "He told me he loved me." I check over my shoulder, even though I know Eris is still downstairs having a drink with Tarquin. Following our meeting with Summer where we explained precisely what happened with my father and Tarquin offered to send a company of his own troops to help move Autumn's men, Eris and I deigned for stay for a drink. At which point Cressida brought me upstairs, sensing that something had indeed changed between Eris and I, interrogating me the second she closed the door to her bedroom.

She blinks at me from across her bed. "By. The. Cauldron." She gapes theatrically. "Shut up."

"It's true," I insist. "And then I told him that I loved him too."

I think that I... broke Cressida. She just stares back at me in shock, a smile spreading across her face before she squeals, wrapping her arms around my neck. "My best friend is in love!" She exclaims eagerly. "Well- I mean... you have been for awhile, but you finally admitted it! I thought you two would never make up."

I laugh fondly, gazing off. "Well, we're certainly made up now," I mutter, flinching when she squeals again.

"Oh, mother! Did you-"

"No," I interject quickly, sighing to myself. "He's still doing that thing... where he denies my advances because he doesn't want to hurt me."

"Is that really how he puts it?" She asks.

"I believe his exact words regarded his inability to hold back and not wanting to push me too far, too fast," I tell her, laying back against her pillows in defeat.

"It's no wonder," she replies, laying back beside me. "Autumn court men are notorious for having fire in their blood, notorious for fucking like it. I hear they can go all night without getting burnt out or so much as breaking a sweat."

I blush, eyes widening. "Really?"

She nods, smug. "Extremely passionate too," she goes on. "He's probably worried he will be too rough with you for your first time."

"And if the idea of him being rough with me makes me excited?" I ask, rolling my head to the side to look at her.

She grins back. "Then I'd venture to say you're in for a lifetime of excitement, High Lady," she taunts. "To death do you part, they say."

"I shouldn't have asked," I groan. "Now, I'm gonna lose my mid even more."

"I really cannot believe it," Cressida muses. "The Eris Vansera. Terror of the Autumn Court. Notorious bachelor. In love and settled down."

"I'd hardly call it settled down," I point out. "My father still threatens us from beyond our borders."

Cressida frown, taking my hand. "How are you holding up?"

"I'm fine," I reply casually. "Eris has been throwing himself into Helion's books, trying to understand what my father might intend to do, trying to make sure he won't have the chance to try me. I've been throwing myself into training my magic, trying to perfect my storm if I have to face my father." Hell, tomorrow morning, I have a three hour training session with Lucien planned to practice my storm.

"He won't take you," Cressida assures me. "Prynthian stands with you, this standing against him. Hybern himself only ever stood a chance because of the cauldron. Fergus hasn't any hope."

I nod, swallowing. "Let's talk about something else," I veer the conversation away, shifting where I lay. "How was your dance at coronation? Witnesses report that Tamlin was seen blushing on the dance floor."

She shrugs, a twist in her lips as she hides her smile. "It was nothing," she says. "He asked me if I'd like to have dinner anytime, but I have no interest in being his rebound from Feyre."

"So you said no?"

She shakes her head. "I told him let's be friends for awhile," she explains. "I told him to ask me in a couple years. He still has some work to do on himself."

Something was left unsaid. I could see it in her eyes, the bite of her lip. "But...?"

She shuts her eyes, sighing out. "But..." she hedges. "He still sent me flowers the next morning."

I smile spreads across my face at her flustement as I seat at her arm. "You like him," I accuse.

"No," she insists. "I just think people rushed to judge him. I, too, know what it's like to be played a fool by Rhysand. I empathize with him."

I smirk, rolling my eyes. "Empathize with those green eyes, maybe," I mutter, her swatting at me again.

"Real rich coming from you, Neph," she retorts. "Seriously, I'm glad you and Eris made up if not for your own happiness then for maybe not having to hear about the infuriating pout of his lips or his sickeningly handsome freckles or his-"

"I get it," I interrupt, clamping my hand over her mouth. "I'm a weak woman."

Cress shakes her head. "A happy woman? Maybe, but a weak woman?" She squints. "You could never."