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Manipulating my body was easy for a man of his experience. He knew where to touch me so precisely, it was as if he had a guide;touch here to make her toes curl; stroke here to make her head twitch.He could have produced a tune in the squeaks and gasps I blurted out uncontrollably.
I was a puppet he controlled from beneath the table, at first with one finger which was soon joined by a second, adding another string to his bow so he could play me still more effectively. When his thumb located my sensitive nub, I thought the top of my head would come off. But, as good as he was at making me feel intense desire, he was even better at denying me. The sweet release of climax was always there, just on the edge of sensation, beckoning and begging me to grasp it, but Nicolo forbade it. Which was just as well, because my screams would have drawn attention.
But what was more disturbing, was the way in which he controlled my mind. Or seemed to. I could have gotten up—I could have simply walked away. But I did not, and only part of the reason was because I was enjoying his ministrations. Mostly, though, I didn’t escape because if I walked away from him, then maybe there was no coming back. And the truth of the matter was that I wanted this man. I also wanted him to want me. I wanted to be his puppet, his plaything, I wanted to be at his mercy.
And that was a realization that scared the hell out of me. Because somewhere along the line the hunter had become the hunted. It was a situation the Guild hadn’t prepared me for. There had never been any lessons on what to do if the tables were turned—if the target was able to play the executioner as easily as a pianist plays the pianoforte. I was in unchartered territory now and it was up to me to find my way out.
As dessert arrived, I hoped the moment had come. The final course, surely this was my moment—the point when he would allow me to claim my orgasm.
“Ah, dessert.” Nicolo removed his hand and tugged my dress back down over my thighs. “This has been one of the most enjoyable meals I can remember.” He turned to face me then and there was victory in his gaze. “I hope you’ve enjoyed it as much as I have.”
It felt as if there was a gaping void between my thighs. The pleasure had stopped, but the unfulfilled need throbbed like a white, cold fire.
“Master.”
“What?” smiled Nicolo.
“Master, please,” I whispered. I needed his touch. I needed him to finish me and damn the consequences.
“Please what?”
“I need…”
“To leave?” he answered on a broad grin. “But of course, Charlotte. You are excused for the evening. I shall stay for the dancing.” He smiled and waved at a beautiful woman among the court. “Ah, Lady Satine,” he said in greeting as she immediately started towards him, just as he’d known she would. He turned back to face me and his eyes were narrowed and hard. “Now there is a woman who knows not to keep a man waiting. I can’t abide a cock-tease.”
And that was that.
This was my punishment for our night in bed together.
Trying not to move too quickly, I got up from the table, and edged my way out of the banqueting hall.
***
Some philosopher once said, ‘What you don’t have you don’t miss’.
What an idiot.
I guarantee he wasn’t talking about sex. Just because my actual experience was limited, didn’t mean I didn’t feel sexual frustration, and the fact that the Assassins’ Guild taught us so comprehensively about what we weren’t allowed to experience didn’t help. Some days the teaching felt more like taunting; here are all these things you can’t touch, you can’t do and can’t have done to you.
Some of the other girls made ‘arrangements’ among themselves, but that never appealed to me and so I was just left frustrated.
But right now, I would have paid money to be that frustrated. That sense of frustration was nothing compared to how I now felt; like one big nerve, raw to the touch; like a firework about to go off but unable to do so. And that was my physical self—regarding the humiliation I’d suffered, that was a whole other topic.
As to my physical unrest… of course, there were options; the Guild had very decently taught us to take care of ourselves but that wasn’t what I needed right now. There was one thing I needed, one man who could provide it, and he was currently dancing with half the ladies of the court, smiling to himself about the state he’d left me in.
I stamped back to my room in a petulant fury and threw myself down on the bed. My whole body seemed to tremble with the pent-up need for release. I wanted to cry, I wanted to scream, I wanted to go for a run, or a swim or go punch something. I wanted a cold bath (although the water would probably boil as soon as I got in), or just to sit quietly and read until this awful need passed through me.
Except none of that was what Iwanted. Not even close.
On the bright side, I’d never felt more like killing Nicolo. At that moment when he denied me satisfaction and then turned his sights elsewhere, I could have killed him quite happily. Yes, Nicolo had been playing a game with me and he’d bested his opponent.
And I had only myself to blame.
You got too caught up,I thought.You didn’t rely on your training, on your own sense of cold detachment. You let emotions sprout and grow and now you’re suffering for having done so. This is all your fault, Charlotte.
I couldn’t be sure how long I lay on my little bed, staring at the ceiling and berating myself for all my inadequacies. In the distance, I could hear the strains of music from the Great Hall as the festivities continued, the rhythm of the music seeming to match the one that pulsed inside me. Eventually the music faded, but the beat within me continued, insistent, unstoppable, desperate. It throbbed with my desire.
If the music had stopped, then the party had concluded and the courtiers would be heading for their beds (or for other people’s).
