Page 101 of The Shadows Between Us
“More convincing?” he asks.
I swallow. “Yes.”
And as I sit there with my legs in the lap of the king, one thing becomes abundantly clear.
I can’t believe how much I want him to touch me. I want to rip off those cursed gloves and burn them in a fire, bury the ashes in a hole deeper than the one in which I dumped Hektor.
I want to know what his lips feel like. I want to know what kind of kisser he is. What kind of lover. A selfish, pampered royal? Or a man willing to give pleasure as well as receive it?
Kallias grabs my knees and scoots me closer, my skirts rising up to show off my stockings. He brings his face within inches of mine. “I want to know what you’re thinking about right now.”
“You couldn’t handle it.”
His fingers tighten subtly, and his face draws even closer. Were he any other man in the world, I would have closed that distance weeks ago. As the king, he has to be the one to decide to take this risk. It makes him so vulnerable.
My face retreats an inch, before I realize what I’m doing. I don’t want him to be vulnerable. I—
“Careful,” I manage.
Kallias lets out a breath of air as he leans himself back into the cushions, his hand under my skirts making more progress north.
What am I doing? Did I just retreat from him?
My mind is a tornado of thoughts, but I drop them all as we see a man approach our girl with the rose.
But it is a false alarm. He grabs a drink before moving on.
TORTURE.
Being in these cushioned seats is absolute torture. Touching but not touching.
Kallias and I stay seated for about half an hour. Altering our positions. Trying to be convincing. But who in the world would take so long on the cushions with a whore without taking her upstairs?
I have my face turned into his neck, trying to look as though I’m nuzzling into him, playing with his ear.
My entire body is alive with heat. I don’t know how much longer I can take it. The lavender-mint smell of him is everywhere. I can’t believe I haven’t grown used to it yet.
“Hey! You’ve had enough time to sample her. Either take my new girl upstairs or hand her over to someone else. I’m not running a charity here.”
I crane my neck to find Madam Dawson with her hands on her hips.
“We were just on our way,” Kallias says. He scoops me up and sets me on the floor as he stands.
“What now?” I ask as we make our way toward the exit.
“We—”
I lose my footing before I even realize what’s happening. My body makes painful contact with the floor, Kallias landing on top of me. Our heads bang together in a painful clash.
There’s murmuring in the gaming room. Guests lean out of their chairs to investigate. So many people are surrounding us, the space suddenly feeling crowded.
A dampness reaches me. Dropped food or drink or something soaking into my skirts. And then Kallias’s weight leaves me. Several people are helping me up, brushing food off my skirts.
“Are you all right?” another of Dawson’s girls asks.
“Yes,” I say.
I look around, trying to figure out who barreled into us, but several of Dawson’s girls have gone to the floor to clean up the mess, including the little one from the kitchen, who appears to have shown up to clear off empty dishes from tables.
