AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The moon was her only companion, a skinny sliver curving high overhead, adding a faint sparkle to the leaves as the moonlight trickled through the trees to the empty garden below. It was peaceful, out here all alone.
Too peaceful. Without the distraction of thousands of merrymakers and the noise of the orchestra, Ammalia was alone with her own thoughts, which had turned decidedly maudlin.
She might have evaded any additional glimpse of Cynthia in Zurri’s arms tonight, but what about tomorrow and every day after that? Unless she planned to run away—impractical, if tempting—she would likely have to travel back to Parmenza in the same carriage, on the same ship, dining in the same room across from the newly betrothed pair.
It could not be borne. And yet, what choice did she have? If wishes were raindrops, Cynthia would fall right into Ammalia’s eager embrace. But the chances of that happening were—
Footsteps. Panting. A sound somewhere between a sigh of relief and a sob.
Ammalia peeled her spine from the tree and peeked around the trunk.
Cynthia. Wearing just one shoe.
Their eyes met at the same moment. Cynthia sprinted forward at a crooked run, launching herself into Ammalia’s arms for a heartfelt hug. Ammalia fell to the grass, bringing Cynthia with her. Ammalia wasted no time turning them both around so that Ammalia was atop Cynthia, who stared up at her with wide, startled eyes.
Impulsively, Ammalia kissed her.
To her shock, rather than push Ammalia off, Cynthia grabbed on tight and kissed her back, as if she had been waiting her entire life for this precise opportunity.
She smelled like the soap from her earlier bath. A visual that had not strayed far from Ammalia’s memory ever since she’d had the good fortune to glimpse Cynthia nude. And touch her bare skin. And massage her muscles. How Ammalia had longed to climb into the tub with her! Or take Cynthia to private thermal waters, where they could bathe naked beneath stars like these.
For now, she would settle for a kiss as sweet as panettone. In response, Cynthia sank her fingers into Ammalia’s hair and held on tight.
This kiss made every lonely moment that Ammalia had ever suffered worth it. Cynthia’s lips against hers was a lifetime of happiness, all in one kiss. It was a connection that grew deeper, stronger, with each brush of their lips and taste of their tongues, twining them together from the depths of their hearts.
Cynthia’s embrace was like exploring new worlds and coming home all at once. Excitement and adventure and comfort and rightness. It was as if Ammalia’s arms had waited for this very moment with this very person. Now that they were finally together, Ammalia never wished to part. She wanted more. Wanted everything. Cynthia’s body, Cynthia’s heart… now and forever.
As their kisses grew ever more passionate, Ammalia gave in to temptation and allowed her eager hands full rein to explore every one of Cynthia’s warm, soft curves.
Fully clothed was not the same as nude, but Ammalia would take Cynthia any way she could have her. In or out of a gown, in or out of the water, as long as she remained in Ammalia’s arms and out of Zurri’s reach.
At the thought, Ammalia’s kisses became imbued with urgency and desperation.
Cynthia responded in kind, utterly destroying what was left of Ammalia’s chignon and the pouf of her sleeves. They rolled around the grass, wrinkling—and likely ripping—every inch of fabric as their fingers sought each other’s most sensitive areas beneath the inconvenient layers of their pesky skirts.
Ammalia allowed her legs to part and gently did the same to Cynthia, devouring her with kisses as their fingers explored and teased and dipped.
Her heart pounded as the pressure built within her, rising all the way up to the sliver of moon and threatening to explode around them in a spray of shooting stars.
Ammalia could scarcely breathe between kisses, so invested was she in bringing Cynthia the same pleasure that she was stoking in Ammalia. The more she tried not to climax, in order to extend the moment, the more impossible restraint became. She tumbled over the edge, gasping into Cynthia’s mouth as the rhythmic spasms overtook her.
But they weren’t finished yet. Now that the heavens had heard Ammalia’s prayers and delivered Cynthia into her arms, Ammalia had no intention of letting her go without first giving her a memory to last a lifetime.
Chapter Twelve
Cynthia’s pulse raced and her blood sang. She’d fled to the garden, desperate to free herself from the prince’s clutches, and found joy in the arms of Princess Ammalia instead.
She hadn’t been running away after all. She’d been running to. Ammalia was everything Cynthia wanted. She could barely think. Her mind was too full of exhilaration, and her body too close to release.
As if sensing this, Ammalia pushed Cynthia’s skirts up to her hips and lowered her face between Cynthia’s thighs. An incoherent gurgle of pleasure escaped Cynthia’s lips.
Good God, she could not possibly marry a prince. Cynthia didn’t want him. She wanted this. And she could not bear to spend the rest of her life one throne away from the princess yet unable to touch her.
But by not marrying the prince, the future was just as bleak. Refusing his suit meant no betrothal, and no betrothal meant staying home for the rest of her days. Lady Tremaine would never again allow Cynthia to attend a “frivolous” activity like a ball. With no glowing employment references, she would remain a scullion in her own home until she was too old and bent and brittle to scrub a floor or lift a bucket.
Princess Ammalia wouldn’t be seated beside her, but rather thousands of miles away, in a far-off country. Out of sight and out of reach forevermore.
But Cynthia could not dwell on this. Refused to allow the bleak truth to ruin this beautiful moment.
