Chapter 52 Kisses past midnight
Now, that was harder to get. But not impossible.
"I have to go into the cell," Cael said, forcing his clumsy tongue into obedience and not breathing in the guardsman's direction.
To Cael's surprise, instead of wondering about his sensibleness, the man gave Cael an understanding wink. "Sure, Milordo. Show that bitch her place. Here's the key."
What this was all about, Cael couldn't tell. His brain, therefore, deemed it unimportant–unlike Ginevra. Right now, she was the most important person of all.
When Cael entered her cell, she tried to stand up. With the wall as her support, she managed to stand upright for a second before her knees gave out.
Cael caught her in his hands without thinking. Then, HIS knees gave out, too—cursed be the wine. They both fell on Ginevra's pallet with a thud and twin oofs of pain. Ginevra's body sprawled all over Cael's.
On second thought, blessed be the wine.
Her body was as contradictory as her mind. All those soft, feminine curves, the press of her breasts to Cael's chest—and underneath them, steel muscles and so much strength.
But right now?.. Right now, she couldn't even manage a proper kick to his groin. It was more like a brush, a brush that turned the stirring of his blood into a full-fledged maelstrom. His pants strained to contain his erection.
"Let me go! What the hell are you doing? Is this your new tactic?" Ginevra growled, trying to get free.
In her movements, she rubbed all over Cael. The sensation forced a small groan out of him. Cael didn't want, and didn't intend, to let her go. But as his fingers explored the expanse of her body, the feel of her bandages under his fingertips reminded Cael about the state of Ginevra's health. With great reluctance, he removed his arms from her body and let her move away. He sat up, too.
"Tactics?" Cael tilted his head, willing his addled brain to make sense of Ginevra's question. This time, his head worked smoothly. So smoothly, that besides the meaning, it gave Cael a genius idea. "Yes! It is. If Enzo gained your loyalty with a whip, surl… surely I can bribe you instead."
Ginevra sniffed and frowned. Her eyes flicked to the tent in Cael's pants, then to his mouth. Her cheeks flushed the most delicious shade of apple red. Cael could bite them.
"You are fucking drunk. Which explains why you think that would work."
"Yeah," Cael nodded, grinning. "And I'm here. It's brili… blri… very smart. I will do nice things to you until you see that not evre… everything has to be a fight."
"Or," Ginevra's eyes narrowed, "I could stab your eyes out with my fingers, take those keys and escape."
Cael laughed. But his mirth disappeared as quickly as it descended on him.
"Oh, no. Gin, I didn't bring you anything. I will do it next time, I swear."
"Next time?" Ginevra gave him a venomous smirk. "Next time, it will be my turn to laugh when I remind you about this visit."
"Yes! Laughter. You should laugh more. Do you ever?" Cael looked at her face. It was stunning, but… "You would look devastating if you smiled."
In response, Ginevra snarled at him.
Cael couldn't contain himself any longer. He reached out, grabbing her cheeks with both hands. Before Ginevra could react, he pressed his lips to hers.
Her sweet lips. Soft and perfectly shaped for pleasure, but put into stern lines. Cael pressed his mouth down on them again and again, determined to fight that harshness no matter how many kisses it takes.
Gradually, Ginevra's hands, which were trying to push Cael away, grabbed his shoulders instead. Her body relaxed. His own hands moved to her sides, bringing her closer to him, letting her feel what she was doing to him. And then—the greatest miracle—her mouth parted ever so slightly and out flew a weak sigh.
It made Cael pause for a moment and take a hold on his emotions and his lust. This had to be wrong. Wasn't it? Ginevra—the enemy, the prisoner, the strongest, softest girl he ever touched…
Ginevra blinked and moved away a little. Her eyes, after a moment of effort, refocused on Cael. Ginevra's breathing was heavy; her cheeks were pink. "Was that a nice thing?"
"Was it?" he asked her back. His gaze wouldn't move from her lips. When she licked them… Cael couldn't contain himself. He kissed her again, on her neck this time. "Is this nice?"
Ginevra shivered. "This won't work."
"I don't care," Cael said into her neck, watching with rapture as it grew covered in goosebumps. "I want to lick your every wound, kiss your every scar. Those I left, and those left by others… I want you to flor… forget them all, because you have me now. Let me make you feel good, real good."
Ginevra fell silent. Cael moved back to look at her frowning face. Then he kissed the wrinkle between Ginevra's brows.
She let out a sigh again and moved closer. This time, it was her lips that descended on his, and it was twice as glorious.
Her movements were awkward. Unsure. With a shock, Cael realized that if Ginevra ever kissed before, it was far from a proper kiss.
Maybe he was even her first. Now, though, she was swiftly gaining more and more confidence.
"Oh, Gin…" he muttered between kisses.
"Just know that this won't give you my good graces," Ginevra whispered back. Her hands tangled in Cael's hair, making it even messier than usual. The sensation of her fingers on his scalp sent small thrills down Cael's spine.
"I don't care," Cael repeated, and kept kissing. His palms went to the globes of Ginevra's breasts, cupped them through the thin prison shirt Ginevra wore. Her nipples, puckered with pleasure, strained the fabric.
Ginevra let out a stifled moan when Cael caressed them—first softly, then with more pressure. Her reactions spurred him on. He broke the kiss to focus solely on kneading her breasts and toying with her nipples. It was a sight to behold.
"Yes…" Ginevra whispered. "Yes, Cael…"
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