Page 55 of Nightshade

Head turned away from him, she hid a smile at the thought of having pleased him. “Was there meaning behind your words, My Lord? When you asked me to set it free … was it the bird you spoke of?” A sudden lump in her throat made for a horribly obnoxious swallow. “Or yourself?”

“I thought it obvious that it was the bird.”

The warmth of embarrassment heated her cheeks, and she shook her head. “Of course. I was just curious--”

“Don’t be curious. Curiosity can be dangerous.”

Still distracted by the circles she’d drawn into the water’s surface, she smiled. “It also births answers, My Lord. Ones that still remain a mystery to me. Like, why Drystan was there in the undercroft that day.”

From his profile, she watched his lip peel back into a snarl, as if so much as the sound of his name was an offense. “He attends mass with his mother.”

“Forgive me, but I did not see a woman accompany him into the chamber where you had been taken.”

“If your inquiries serve a purpose,” he said through clenched teeth, “I suggest you make it known. I have no time for games, or riddles.”

The comment gave her pause. Did her interrogations serve a purpose beyond her own curiosity? After all, knowing would not change the outcome, nor future outcomes, for that matter. The men she’d seen involved were the most powerful in all of Praecepsia. Still, she asked, anyway. “What did they do to you in that room? I heard your screams.”

“And how can you be sure those screams belonged to me?”

“Because I know your voice as distinctly as I do my own. I hear it even when you are not present.”

“Tell me.” The heat of his gaze burned hot over her skin. “Do you hear it in dreams?”

“Sometimes.”

“And what do I say to you in these dreams?”

“A number of things.” Things that would’ve had her blushing, if she told him.

He pushed to his feet and stepped toward her, his eyes alight with something dark and mischievous. “I want to hear them from your lips.”

A cold rush of discomfort twisted her insides at such a request. “I would rather not say, My Lord.”

“Tell me, or there will be consequences.”

Chin angled high, she stared back at him with an unabashed and steely nerve. “I ask to know the consequences.”

“Why?”

“So that I might decide which is worse--suffering them, or telling you my dreams.”

“The consequences will surely be worse.” He stepped closer, forcing her to take a step back. “Though, more important than hearing your fantastical dream, I want to know if you touched yourself, as I asked, while thinking of me.”

Lustina’s face burned with humiliation over the question, and yet, she did do as he’d asked. While bathing in the cool current of the river, she’d closed her eyes and, below the water’s surface, allowed her fingers to roam to those forbidden places. She’d imagined his arrogant smirk and bold words whispered in her ear, and though she didn’t quite know what more existed beyond the tightening of her muscles and the rapid little breaths that’d sputtered past her lips, she’d enjoyed the sensation, nonetheless.

Her mother had always told her such pleasures were perfectly normal for a curious young girl, but the pentashes had frequently referred to it as an unnecessary and indulgent sin.

Lustina gulped, nodding in answer to his question.

The corner of his lip lifted to a slight smile, as if it pleased him, the sight of which sent a new sensation through her. The embarrassment of before slowly fizzled into something foreign. Something she’d never experienced before, and although she couldn’t quite pinpoint precisely what it was, it had her pulse hastening and warmth rushing to between her thighs.

She only knew that she liked seeing the smile on the baron’s face.

“And did you reach the dizzying point of ecstasy? When your thighs would shudder with unfathomable relief?”

Had she? She couldn’t be sure. She’d only gone so far as the sharp tension in her body, before she’d grown weak and tired. “How would I know, My Lord?”

The dark chuckle that answered only stirred her confusion. “You would know.” He stepped closer, backing her toward a nearby tree. “Your scent …” Eyes screwed shut, he clenched his teeth as if offended by it. “So pure.” When he opened his eyes again, gone were the bright blue. Their black centers looked as if they had bled over to a frightening darkness.