I lean closer to him. “Jasce, people are watching.”
A smirk tugs at his upper lip as he continues touching me. “Let them.”
“But I…”
“You’re my wife. They would think it was odd if I didn’t touch you.”
He traces lazy circles along my thigh, then travels upward to settle mere inches away from forbidden territory. I try to focus on the sounds of the crowd, the rustling of their clothes, and the occasional clink of metal as the guards adjust their armor. Anything to distract me from the warmth spreading through my body.
Jasce’s touch is too much. I let out a soft moan. I can’t help it. Every nerve screams for more.
He leans closer, his lips brushing against my ear. “Do you want me to stop?”
“No,” I breathe out, needing everything I thought I would never find. All that passion locked away. All those stolen moments never meant for a woman like me.
His fingers move upward, ghosting along my inner thigh. I suck in a quick breath as he moves higher and higher, but never quite touches the spot I need satisfaction from.
His lips graze my earlobe as he cups the area between my legs. “I bet you taste better than the pastry.”
I buck my hips forward, encouraging him to continue,longingforhim to continue. He doesn’t press harder, doesn’t do anything but tease me. It’s enough to make me insane.
“Please.” How pathetic I must sound.
He withdraws his hand. “Please what?”
I grip my wine goblet, needing to hold on to something. Anything. “Why did you stop?”
“Because I got what I wanted.”
“What did you want?” My grip strengthens, fingers tightening around that goblet as if it binds me here and not to the man sitting next to me.
“For you to beg.”
A gasp escapes me.
“Should I have kept going?” he asks in a teasing tone.
Yes, a thousand times yes.
"No." I shake my head.
"How disappointing. I was hoping you would want to return to my bedchamber."
“Jasce,” I say, my cheeks burning with embarrassment.
"I want to tear that cotehardie from your body and taste every inch of you." His fingers move slowly and deliberately over the edge of my sleeve.
"Jasce."
"I want to hear you moan when I make you arrive,” he says, his tone carrying something wild, something beckoning me to explore his touch, to know him.Reallyknow him.
"Jasce!"
"Yes, Lyra?" Her name is the cold dose of reality I need.
I amnother!
Sadness wrenches deep inside me as I stand, curtsy toward Jerrod, and flee the room.
