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I took a breath. “What are we doing?”
“Having a picnic,” he said.
“No, Casamir. What arewedoing? I don’t understand this…us.”
He frowned and then rose, setting his glass aside. He leaned toward me and drew my hair behind my ear, fingers lingering along my jaw.
“Do you need to?” he asked.
“I think I should,” I said. “Before I make a mistake.”
“What mistake could you possibly make?”
His mouth hovered over mine, his breath caressing my lips as he waited for my reply, but it never came. Instead, I let my tongue slip into his mouth and gave in to his kiss, which deepened with a slow caress.
Casamir tugged on the ties of my dress, and I helped him pull the neckline down, slipping my arms from the sleeves. It pooled around my waist. Bared to him, I swung my leg over his and he jerked me forward, hands beneath my knees, until I settled against his arousal. I groaned at how he fit against me. Just the promise that he would soon be inside me was pleasure, and for a brief moment, I considered how I had ever lived without this—without him.
Casamir kissed me as he squeezed my breasts and then took each one into his mouth. I gasped, raking my fingers through his hair, pulling on his long strands until he released me and brought his mouth to mine.
“Tell me what part of this is a mistake,” he said, and his hands swept beneath my dress, over my thighs and hips before he gripped my ass, his fingers digging into me as he moved me against him, his arousal creating a delicious friction between my thighs. All the while, Casamir’s mouth explored my jaw and neck, my collarbone and my breasts. He was everywhere all at once, and somehow I still wanted more. Then he shifted and rolled me onto my back. He gave me no time to adjust as he moved down my body, leaving a path of fire in his wake as he descended to the apex of my thighs and kissed there, his mouth closing over my clit, his tongue dancing in gentle circles, his fingers parting my flesh, curling inside me. When I came and lay boneless and breathless, Casamir pulled my dress off and then stripped himself of his clothes. Everything inside me felt like liquid fire as I watched him, lean and hard, return to me.
He settled between my legs. I expected him to kiss me, but all he did was stare, his heavy arousal growing harder, pressing into the bottom of my stomach.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Nothing,” he said. “I am just trying to memorize you.”
“Are you saying you will forget me?” I asked, my tone light, teasing, but he frowned and I felt the dread blossoming inside me.
“I don’t know.”
I studied him and then took his face between my hands.
“I wish that I could have at least given you freedom,” he said. “I do not wish for you to watch me fade away.” There was something in his dark and deep eyes I had never seen before—a hint of fear—and it felt like it was more for me than for him.
My heart stuttered in my chest.
“You won’t,” I swore. “I will remind you of who you are.”
“Every day?” he asked.
“Until you remember.”
“I will never remember.”
“Will you remember me?” I asked, voice trembling slightly, unable to keep my fear at bay.
“I never wish to forget you.”
We stared at each other in silence for a moment, and then I brought him to me and kissed him, reaching between us to position him against my heat. In one thrust, he was inside me.
There was a slow and sweet rhythm to the way we began. I felt every ridge of him as he moved, and our breaths came quietly, quickening as his pace increased. I began to move with him, and then we were suddenly completely different and desperate.
His hand went to my neck, but he did not squeeze. I waited, and then ordered it. He kissed me instead, and when he broke away, I felt his fingers press on either side of my neck and relished in the pressure building in my head. When he released me, the pleasure nearly shattered me.
I gave a guttural cry and lifted my head toward his. Our lips crashed in a messy kiss as I gripped his forearms for some semblance of control. But I was already lost, and when I came, he followed shortly after, my muscles clenching around him, eager for every drop of come he possessed.
We lay on the quilt afterward, and Casamir fed me grapes and plums. They were sweet and ripe, and after I finished, he would kiss me, tongue swirling, lapping at the sugar on my skin.
