My sweet Nemesis (ch 21 Of the QON rewrite)

Ch 21 2.0

I flee to the wardrobe. I can still feel the drum of my thundering pulse all through my body.

When  I was a kid, sex was a mystery. Some bizarre thing people did to make babies when they got married. Once, a friend and I placed dolls in a hat and shook the hat around to indicate they were doing it.

That changed in Faerie, of course. The folk come naked to revels, ,ay couple for entertainment, especially as evening wear on. But though I understand what sex is now and how it's accomplished , I didn't anticipate how much it would feel like loosing myself. When Cardan's hands are on me, I am betrayed into pleasure. And he can tell. He's practiced in the arts of love. He can draw whatever response from me. I hate that, and yet I want it, all at once.

But maybe I don't have to be the only one to feel things.

I strip off my dress, kick off my shoes. I even take down my hair, letting it fall over my shoulders. In the mirror, I catch sight of my curves- the muscles of my arms, honed by swordplay; the heaviness of my breasts; and the swell of my hips. My mortality cannot hide.

With a one last trembling breath, I return to the bedroom naked.

Cardan is standing by the bed. When he turns, he looks so astonished that I almost laugh. I have seldom seen him unsure of himself, even when drunk, even when wounded; it is rare to see him overset. A wild heat leaps into his eyes, an expression not unlike fear. I feel a rush of power, heady as wine.

"Come here," he says, voice rough and low, his gaze burning me everywhere it settles. I do, crossing the floor obediently.

I might be inexperienced in love, but I know a lot about provocation. I stop before him, locking eyes with him and sink to my knees before him. "Is this how you imagined I'd be like, back in your rooms at Hollow Hall, when you thought of me and hated it? Is this how you pictured my eventual surrender?"

He looks absolutely mortified, but there's no distinguishing the flush in  his cheeks, the shine of his eyes. " Yes," he says, sounding like the word was dragged out of him, his voice rough with desire.

"Then what did I do?" I ask, my voice low.

I reach out and press my hand against his thigh.

His gaze shimmers with a sharp spike of heat. There's a weariness in his face, and I realize he believes I might be asking him all this because I'm because I'm angry. But he keeps speaking anyway. "I imagined you telling me to do with you whatever I liked."

"Really?" I ask, and the surprised laugh in my voice makes him meet my gaze.

"Along with some begging on your part . A little light groveling." He gives me an embarrassed smile. "My fantasies were rife with overween ambition."

I sit back on my knees, feeling the cold stone. I reach up my hands like a supplicant. I make sure to speak each word slowly with deliberation. "You may do with me whatever you like." I turn my gaze back up to him and whisper with need and desire burning in my eyes. "Please, oh please. All I want is you"

He sucks in a breath and gets down so we're both on the floor and he's on his hands and knees. He presses his mouth to the pulse point of my wrist, racing in time with my heart. "Mock me all you like. Whatever I imagined then, now it is I who would beg and grovel for  a kind word from your lips." his eyes are black with desire. "By you I am forever undone."

My lips part, eye widening, breath becoming more shallow. It seems impossible that he's saying those words and that they're true. But when he leans down to kiss each of my finger tips, I'm frozen. He looks up at me as he reaches my missing fingertip and kisses it with careful consideration.