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I arched my head back and growled as her tight, hot walls clenched around me.
“Does this feel like all, or none?” She challenged making my head spin.
Once she had me positioned inside, I took her face by the jaw and said, “No more talking.” And then pressed my palm over her mouth and instructed her on how to ride me.
Fuck almighty, how she rode me.Chapter 19ValeriaThe morning of what was supposed to be my wedding day dawned frozen and crystal blue. Every bare branch sparkled with ice, as if candied with sugar.
Bundled up in a fur jacket and wearing riding breeches and boots that Vasile and I found in a packing trunk, I stood outside the manor house, helping him tack up Vela. I tightened the second of the two billets on the saddle unevenly, but my mind was so distracted that I stood there blankly, staring at the mismatched buckles, letting my mind drift.
Vasile stepped in to help me. Stepping back to let him get things squared away, I looked out at the horizon, letting my worried thoughts unspool.
Vasile assured me that word had been sent to my parents about a change of plans. I was safe and secure in the Greengallow family home, being readied for the nuptials. He said his father had played the villain, letting them know the family was put off by my feigning illness the other night in order to leave, and they wanted to be sure I was going to keep up my father’s end of the bargain.
I was sure this caused both my parents some distress, but it was far better than the alternative. My father showing up to retrieve me from school and I’m nowhere to be found. This way, we have some time, not much but hopefully enough.
A clear single toll of a chapel bell down in the valley reminded me that it wouldn’t be long before the wedding guests began arriving. Petre and I weren’t to be married nearby, though; it had all been planned for the Coronation Cathedral, where royals always married, with its pealing bronze bells and gold-gilt ceiling, where strange Byzantine saints look down on the parishioners, judgmental and skeptical.
There would have been no way to stop the guests from coming as planned. Messages traveled slowly during this time of year; carrier pigeons couldn’t stand the cold and the riding was hard going in the further flung corners of Praque.
In a handful of hours, I imagined relatives and friends of my parents stepping out of their carriages, stretching aching legs, and my poor family having to explain that no, the bride isn’t here. No, we don’t know where she is. And yes, she was always a willful girl. But we never expected her to do this.
Inhaling hard, I let the freezing air sting my lungs.
Up above, a hawk circled, diving and spiraling to catch its unsuspecting prey. Usually, I was in awe of hawks on the hunt, but not today. Today it nearly made me sick to my stomach to watch. That ruthlessness was admirable in a bird, but terrifying to consider in Petre Greengallow.
“When he realizes I’ve stood him up, he’ll hunt me down himself,” I said. “We should have just called off the wedding; saved him the humiliation.”
“No.” Vasile’s voice was thick with conviction. “We needed Petre to believe everything was still in place. If he knew, he would have tried to find you for sure. And me. But I’m not worried about myself. I wanted to do this the best way to keep you safe. My father didn’t agree, but I made him promise to keep everything as it stands. You have to trust me, remember?”
Vasile turned to me, with dark eyes glistening in the cold air. He was more imposing and handsome than ever. He wore a huge, beautiful shearling coat that made his shoulders look even broader, and his thick-soled riding boots reminded me of something a warrior might wear.
He looped the bridle over his horse’s neck and then took me in his arms. He was so big and warm, so protective and certain, that for an instant I believed that surely, he could stand between me and the rest of the world. Whatever was to come, he would protect me.
But holding onto him tightly, I knew the truth. He was just one man. Strong and single-minded though he may be, there would be nothing either of us could do stop the tide that his brother would unleash on me. I was sure of it.
“Tell me again,” I said, my voice muffled slightly by the shearling lining of his coat.
His broad chest rose as he inhaled. I could tell he was losing his patience with me; if I’d asked him once, I’d asked him a hundred times. But if he was getting irritated, he thankfully didn’t let on. Instead he held me closer, shifting my hair aside, and leaning down close to my ear.
