XXV
＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊
"We should marry."
She looked at him askance, her eyes alight and luminous through her long lashes, as she bent her head over her task. In her fingers were tiny colourful blossoms attached to slithers of thin green stems that coiled in her lap. Her hair trailed down her back like a silken curtain, the ends flicking up and curling about her hips.
"Why?" A wry smile twisted one corner of her lips into her cheek and she lifted the flowers in her hands, twisting her waist towards him and placing the delicate chain atop his head, her eyes dancing with mischief.
He caught her wrists as she retreated, sliding his fingers down her sun-kissed skin until his hands spanned her waist, hoisting her into his lap. She straddled him, her knees planted in the soft grass to either side of them. The flowing material of the skirt she wore split on either side of her thighs and he rested his fingers on each, finding her warm and soft.
"Is that a hypothetical question?" he murmured as she draped her arms around his neck.
Lillian tilted her head to the side and regarded him with amusement, her brows arched delicately and a bemused smile widened her mouth. "I was under the impression that we would not broach this topic when it came to... us."
"I wish to broach it. I desire nothing more than to broach it." He leaned forward until their mouths grazed, nipping provocatively at her plump bottom lip so that she sucked in a breath. Above them, the sun poured warmth upon their skin, the sky clear and blue to match her eyes.
She reared away from him slightly, a sultry, bewitching smirk lighting her countenance and curling one side of her mouth to dimple a cheek. "Are you telling me you are ready to take on the House of Lords, my lord?"
A sound similar to a put-out growl erupted from his chest and his fingers swept up her hips. Turning his body, he rolled until she was pinned beneath him, her hair splayed like a gilded halo in the grass and wildflowers around them. "I am saying I am ready to take on you, Lillian Adams, and whatever that entails- I have been for a very long time."
Her expression softened immeasurably, her fingers splaying against the side of his face with a tenderness that rooted into the pits of his heart and sprouted new, lingering tendrils through the rest of him. "And you have not said anything."
"You were happy with our arrangement," he told her earnestly. "I did not want to impose on that."
"Stupid dragon."
"What did we say about insulting volatile and unpredictable beasts?" He found her wrists and pinned them above her head, not failing to note the excitement that flared her pupils at the domineering gesture.
Lillian bit her lip, wriggling against him in a manner that he knew was intentional. In a deliberately mocking, sing-song voice, she intoned, " 'Do not provoke a dragon if I do not wish to meet a dragon.'"
"Good girl." The low husk to his voice made her smile flatten and then she was arching up to him, her lips latching onto his with an urgency he replicated and more. When her tongue darted out to trace the seam of his mouth, he moaned, his grip slackening upon her wrists, and that was all it took for his domineering, impossibly obstinate duchess to lurch and switch their positions.
She straddled his waist, pulling back from his kiss to bestow him with an intrinsically mischievous grin, and he was surprised to find his wrists now pinned above his head. Her hair curtained them, streaming in long, graceful ribbons over her shoulders.
"Perhaps that is exactly who I wish to meet," she challenged, then released him and rolled to her feet. Within seconds she was sprinting through the long grass, her laugh catching on the gentle breeze, and he felt the dragon stir with the eagerness of the chase, his limbs already stretching and shifting as he eyed her skipping away from him in streams of silk and sun-kissed hair...
➶
Aëghan leaned against the threshold, his arms folded across his chest, as he silently examined the unaware women within Lillian's chambers.
Lillian stood before a tall looking glass, turned away from him, while she fidgeted with the intricately knotted belts across her waist. She looked resplendently beautiful in the heavy lilac-coloured silk that covered her form. Her arms were bare, and he knew from the design of the garment that when she moved her graceful legs would be revealed too.
The band that circled her upper arm caught his eye.
"I do not know the purpose of such a frock," she muttered as she scrutinized her reflection, turning slightly to one side to fiddle with the manner in which the fabric settled at her hip there. "There is hardly anything left to the imagination. I shall be cold."
Enorae, who had been preparing something by her vanity, turned to her and tilted her head to the side. "Considering what I saw the day prior, that should hardly be a concern of yours," she said wryly. "And no you won't."
Lillian halted her fidgeting to give the other woman a dry look. Then she ran her hands over her cold shoulders, her fingers stopping over the mark suddenly. "You say that yet I can hardly believe you with this weather," she said distractedly, studying her arm. "I'll need to cover this somehow."
Even though he was simply enjoying watching her unnoticed from his position at her door, Aëghan chose that moment to interject and make his presence known, stepping into the room. "It will be," he said and both women spun to him with expressions of mild surprise. He caught Lillian's and noted the tension thickening between them, the flare of anticipation that flushed her cheeks.
He could scarcely believe his fortune at being bestowed the honour of knowing her, let alone the pleasure of anything else that transpired between them.
Sensing the tangible connection charging the air between them, Enorae subtly cleared her throat and set the wooden bowl she was mixing pointedly on the surface of Lillian's vanity. "I believe I need to, uh, sweep the windows," she said wryly before sauntering from the chamber, leaving them alone par Miss Felicity who reposed on Lillian's pillows glaring at them.
She glanced away from him, her lashes fanning over the edges of her reddening cheeks as she loosely hugged her waist. "It will be covered?" she asked.
Aëghan made a sound of assent, reaching beyond her to retrieve the bowl that Enorae had abandoned. His chest brushed against the skin of her arm, the slight contact sending spirals of warm awareness through him. "Yes." Standing before her with the bowl between them, he gently grasped one of her wrists and placed her hand in the dark paint-like mixture therein. Her brows pulled together in a puzzled frown. "It is customary tonight, if a mating pair has been chosen, to mark each other."
Her frown remained steadfast upon her brow, even when he coaxed her hand to settle against the naked flesh of his chest, pressing her lingeringly against him to ensure her fingers spread wide over his heart.
Finally, her gaze raised to find his. "Are we not already?"
"Not in the way others would need to recognise." He lifted her fingers from his chest and reluctantly released his hold on her wrist, studying the almost black hand print against his skin. "Tonight, this will allow everyone to see that I have been chosen, that I belong to you and you alone."
"Oh."
He dipped his hand into the contents of the bowl. "Move your straps apart for me."
For a moment she was startled, then she realised what he was about before tentatively reaching up for either knotted ribbon on her shoulder, lowering them to catch at her elbows so that the fabric fell away from her chest. Like this, she was barely decent, the material only just concealing her nipples. He felt his jaw harden and clench, but he ignored the wild reaction his body was having to her- that it always had to her.
Swallowing audibly, he lowered his hand between the gentle swell of her breasts, pressing his fingers wide and his palm flat until he could feel the faint rhythm of her heartbeat. He found her watching him closely when he raised his gaze to hers, her hair loose and curling freely down to her hips in thick, heavy waves.
"Have... have you been marked this way before?" she asked. Her expression was carefully neutral, revealing nothing of what she felt, but he detected the faint edges to her tone and emotions- edges of jealousy that she inwardly abhorred.
Aëghan removed his hand, relishing the sight of his print emblazoned upon her breast for all to acknowledge that she was his, and with the fingers of the hand that wasn't covered in paint he began to lift the straps of her dress back onto her shoulders, lingering over her skin longer than he needed to.
"Prior to meeting you, I held no desire to be claimed before." His grin was crooked as he mulled over his next words. "I am not an honourable male, by any stretch of the word, and I wouldn't like you to believe anything but the truth. So yes, there have been others before you, Lillian, but none that have claimed me entirely, and there will be no one else but you, for however long you will have me."
She bestowed him with a smile that was almost unnoticeable as it crept into her cheeks, then she took the bowl from his hands and dipped her painted fingers into it. She ducked her head, sidling to his side where she began to draw rings about his bicep to intercept the band marking his flesh. He lifted his arm for her obligingly, the feel of her cool fingers stroking his skin making his flesh tingle.
When her silence continued to stretch between them, a worm of doubt burrowed into his mind that perhaps Lillian did not want fidelity from their arrangement- an arrangement which didn't have linear terms and conditions established as of yet. "And what of you?" Inwardly, he flinched at the brusqueness of his tone, the hardness of his voice that revealed his twisted gut at the mere thought that Lillian may not desire him exclusively.
"What of me?" She made a small humming sound at the back of her throat, entirely focused on her task as her fingers tortured him with delicate patterns along the top of his shoulder.
"Are you going to make me spell it out?"
Her head jerked at his sharp gaze, her hand stilling against his skin. "Perhaps you should," she said, a slow smile curling the corners of her lips.
He turned quickly, taking the bowl from her hand and using the paint to inflict the same torture upon her, coaxing her arm out at her side for his administrations. When he spoke, his voice was gruff. "Is that what you wish? To have none but me, or..." He couldn't bring himself to say it, his tongue lodging in his throat at the thought of Lillian with another male.
Her smile deepened and she raised her hand to run her paint stained fingers across his nose and cheek. "Stupid dragon," was all she murmured, before turning from him entirely.
In one motion, he deposited the bowl, grasped her upper arm and spun her back to him, caging her in between his body and the mirror behind her. "I want to be reasonable, Gods, I am trying, but when it comes to you, I am finding it incredibly difficult to hold onto any form of sense or reasonability." He snaked an arm around her waist, pulling her body against his and her hands braced upon his chest. "I am afflicted by you. I do not care about the lovers you have acquired in the past, but from henceforth I require you, all of you, unequivocally and unreasonably mine and only mine."
A slick trail of paint followed in the wake of her hand as she slid it up his chest to curl about the nape of his neck. Her lashes lowered, her gaze dropping to his lips as she pulled his face closer to hers, her breath mingling with his. "Silly dragon," she whispered, a tremor to her voice, "you'll be my first... and likely my last."
He felt a shudder undulate through him at her words, the tenuous hold he had on the dragon threatened to snap. His, she was only his, and a rough groan poured out of him as he fought not to hoist her legs about his waist and claim her there and then. Unwilling and unable to release her entirely right then, Aëghan dropped his forehead to hers, the tips of their noses touching. He daren't do more than that, his restraint a weak and pathetic thing presently, and he'd loathe himself if he frightened her.
"I do not recognise this male I have become in your presence," he admitted quietly. "Truthful, devoted... I am mere seconds away from spouting platitudes about your beauty. It is rather sickening how quickly you have succeeded in diverting my wicked ways."
She made a humming noise again, her hips wriggling almost too temptingly against the solid bar of his cock between them. "I hope there is still some wickedness in you yet."
He inhaled a seething breath and abruptly broke free from her, stepping backwards until a safe distance separated them. "Time to go," he ordered, gesturing to the open door of her chamber.
Lillian reeled slightly, but then she threw him a sly look before sauntering past him. She lifted her skirts, studying her bare toes for a moment before looking back over her shoulder at him. "I will be cold, perhaps-" She broke off into a high-pitched yelp of surprise when he swatted her backside, unable to resist the captivating swell beneath the fine silks of her gown.
"You will not be cold," he told her, settling his hand into the small of her back and guiding her from the chamber. "And if you somehow are chilled, I will personally keep you warm."
At his wolfish smile, she snorted lightly. "I do not doubt you will."
"You should certainly not." He curled his fingers around her hip, pulling her into his side as they walked down the passage. "And do you doubt your decision about our arrangement?"
"Hmm..."
"Lillian..."
She tilted her head to glance at him, her vivid eyes dancing with humour. "We will have to first judge your performance before I consider any serious doubts about my decision."
His mouth dropped open in shock. "You impertinent little- you doubt my capability to bring you to climax?"
Laughingly, she turned to him and covered his mouth with her fingers, smearing yet more of the paint still left on her hand against his face. "Sssh! Someone will hear you being obscene!"
Aëghan rolled his eyes, nipped at her fingers, and then began drawing her forward once more. "If you consider that obscene, you are going to be very shocked later on when you ride my face."
"Oh, God." She fanned her reddening face with her free hand vigorously.
"Rest assured, my lady," he told her as they began to wind down the staircase, "at the culmination of this evening, you will be so inundated by all the wickedly obscene things I wish to do to you that you will be begging me for everything and more."
If Lillian found anything to protest about his words, she did not voice them. However, he was privy to the enchanting way she bit her bottom lip and the way her gaze slid over his bare torso. Over their interactions the last day or so, he had come to learn that she harboured a side to her that was perhaps just as wicked as he was, and unravelling the layers to ascertain just how uninhibited Lillian could be was proving to be an effort in monumental self-control and untapped pleasure.
It may very well kill him, but Aëghan had never looked forward to the prospect of sweetly torturing her and himself with anticipation with what was to come more than that evening.