Chapter 10: The Hidden Feast
The fire crackled low in the hearth, casting long shadows across the velvet drapes and the polished oak of the study table. Jennie sat on the edge of it, her palms flat against the cool wood, her skirts bunched around her hips in a pool of sapphire silk. Her head was thrown back, her dark hair spilling over her shoulders, and between her parted thighs, Leonid knelt like a man at prayer.
His mouth was on her, hot and hungry, his tongue dragging through the wet heat of her folds with a reverence that made her tremble. His hands gripped her bare thighs, fingers digging into the soft flesh, holding her open for him as he devoured her. The sound of it—the slick, obscene whisper of his tongue against her cunt—filled the quiet room, mingling with her short, desperate gasps.
"God," she breathed, her fingers tangling in his dark curls. "Leonid—"
He hummed against her, the vibration sending a jolt of pleasure straight through her core. She arched her back, her hips grinding against his mouth, chasing the pressure of his tongue. He gave it to her, lapping at her clit with a fervent, almost vicious hunger, his nose brushing her skin, his breath hot and ragged.
She was close. So close she could feel it building, a coil of heat tightening in her belly, threatening to snap. Her thighs clenched around his head, her heels digging into his shoulders.
"Please," she gasped, not knowing what she was asking for. "Please, I—"
The knock shattered everything.
Three sharp raps against the door, loud and insistent. Jennie's eyes flew open, her heart lurching into her throat.
"Jennie?" Kai's voice, warm and familiar, filtered through the wood. "Are you there? I have the modiste's sketches for your ball gown."
Panic seized her like a cold hand around her chest. She looked down at Leonid, who had frozen between her thighs, his lips glistening, his dark eyes glittering up at her with a mixture of amusement and hunger. He made no move to pull away.
"One moment!" she called, her voice cracking. She cleared her throat, forced it steady. "I am just—I am changing. Give me a moment."
She shoved at Leonid's shoulders, her eyes wide with desperation. He rose, unhurried, a wicked smile playing at the corner of his mouth. She pointed frantically at the space beneath the study table, and he complied, sliding into the shadows with a grace that belied his size, his body folding into the darkness like a secret.
Jennie scrambled off the table, smoothing her skirts with trembling hands, tucking stray strands of hair behind her ears. She crossed to the door, pausing to take a breath, her heart still hammering against her ribs.
When she opened it, Kai stood there, a roll of parchment under his arm, his smile bright and oblivious. He stepped past her into the room, his gaze sweeping over the chamber with the casual confidence of a man who belonged there.
"I apologize for the intrusion," he said, moving toward the study table with the sketches in hand. "But I wanted to show you before I met with the modiste this afternoon. I believe you will adore the embroidery—silver thread, to match your eyes."
She followed him, her legs unsteady, her skin prickling with awareness. He spread the sketches across the table, his fingers tracing the delicate lines of the design. She forced herself to look, to nod, to murmur appreciative sounds, but all of her attention was fixed on the man hidden beneath the wood mere inches from where Kai stood.
"I thought perhaps a lower neckline," Kai was saying, his voice light and conversational. "The style in Paris is all the rage. But I trust your judgment, of course. You have always had impeccable taste."
"Thank you," she managed, her voice thin. "I am sure it will be lovely."
She was standing beside the table now, her hands clasped in front of her, her every muscle taut with the effort of appearing normal. And then she felt it—a warm hand sliding up her ankle, beneath the hem of her skirt, fingers grazing her calf.
She inhaled sharply, her eyes flying to Kai's face. He did not notice, too absorbed in the sketches, pointing out the cut of the bodice.
"Here," he said, tapping the parchment. "I thought we might add a touch of lace. Delicate, but not overwhelming."
Leonid's hand crept higher, sliding over her knee, his fingers trailing along her inner thigh. Jennie's breath came faster, her cheeks flushing, her body betraying her with a throb of heat between her legs.
"Perhaps," she managed, her voice wavering. "Perhaps a simple silk would be better. Lace can be—can be—"
"Overwhelming?" Kai laughed. "Yes, I suppose you are right. You always prefer understated elegance."
Leonid's fingers found her bare cunt, slick and swollen from his earlier ministrations. He pressed against her, one finger sliding through her folds, and she had to grip the edge of the table to keep from crying out.
"Jennie?" Kai looked up, his brow furrowing. "Are you alright? You look rather flushed."
"The fire," she said, the lie falling from her lips with practiced ease. "It is rather warm in here."
He glanced at the hearth, then back at her, his expression softening. "You are not coming down with something, are you? We cannot have you ill for the ball."
"No," she breathed, her voice catching as Leonid's finger pressed deeper, sliding into her. "I am quite well. Truly."
Leonid's thumb found her clit, circling it with deliberate, maddening pressure. She bit the inside of her cheek, tasting blood, the pain grounding her as pleasure threatened to overwhelm her senses.
"I will have the modiste come tomorrow," Kai said, rolling up the sketches. "You can give her your final approval then. I want everything to be perfect for you, Jennie. You deserve nothing less."
"Thank you," she said, and the words came out as a whisper, strained and breathless.
He stepped closer, and for a horrible moment, she thought he might kiss her. But he merely took her hand, lifting it to his lips, brushing a kiss over her knuckles with a tenderness that made her stomach twist with guilt.
"I will leave you to rest," he said, releasing her hand. "I have a meeting with my father's solicitor. But I will see you at dinner."
"Yes," she said. "At dinner."
He turned and walked to the door, pausing at the threshold to look back at her with a smile that did not quite reach his eyes. "Do take care of yourself, my dear. You seem rather distracted today."
Her heart stopped. Did he know? Could he possibly know—
But he was gone, the door closing softly behind him, and she was alone with the man beneath the table.
She sagged against the desk, her legs barely holding her as relief washed over her in a heady tide. And then Leonid was rising, his body unfolding from the shadows, his eyes dark with a hunger that made her breath catch.
"Well," he said, his voice low and rough, "that was an unexpected pleasure."
"Are you mad?" she hissed, her voice shaking. "He could have—we could have been—"
"Caught?" He stepped closer, his hands finding her waist. "Yes. But we were not. And now he is gone." He leaned in, his lips brushing her ear, his breath hot against her skin. "And I am still here."
"Leonid—"
"I want you," he said, the words a low growl. "I want to feel you come apart on my tongue, and I want to hear you scream my name, and I want to ruin you for anyone else."
Her protest died in her throat. Her body, traitorous and aching, responded to his words with a throb of pure want.
"Now," she said, her voice barely a whisper. "Please. Now."
He did not waste another moment. He lifted her onto the edge of the table, shoving her skirts up around her hips, and settled between her thighs once more. His mouth found her, hot and demanding, and she let her head fall back, surrendering to the flood of sensation.
And when she came, her fingers tangled in his hair, her hips grinding against his face, she bit down on her own fist to keep from screaming.
The knock came again.
This time, it was not Kai. Lady Manoban's sharp, imperious voice cut through the haze like a blade. "Jennie? Are you decent? I have been informed of a most distressing rumor, and I must speak with you at once."
Jennie froze, her heart plummeting into her stomach. Leonid pulled back, his lips slick, his eyes gleaming with something that was equal parts amusement and dark anticipation.
"Well," he murmured, his voice barely audible. "It seems the family is quite concerned for your wellbeing today."
She looked down at him, her chest heaving, her body trembling with the aftershocks of her release. And she knew, with a certainty that chilled her to the bone, that their secret could not remain hidden forever.