Sonata (North Security 3)

The red silk robe I’m wearing belongs to her. It falls only to the middle of my thighs. A silk length cinches it closed at the waist, but there’s plenty to see above that, where the sides lean open. Liam tries not to look. Bless him, he tries.

“You’re the most noble man I’ve ever met,” I say, tugging at the loose ends.

That earns me a low growl. “You’re tired.”

The silk flows like liquid off my shoulders. I’m wearing a lacy black bra and matching panties, also courtesy of Isa. It seemed a little pointless to put on underwear with the plan to remove it right away, but she was sure it would help. Now that I saw the muscle clenching in Liam’s jaw, I know she’s right.

“Not that tired.”

“It’s the adrenaline. You’ll crash soon.”

I reach behind me to unhook the bra. It falls forward in my arms, the cups rasping against my nipples. A shiver runs through me. The garment falls to the floor. “Crash with me.”

He’s not unaffected. The proof of that rises between his legs, no longer at rest but thick and proud. There’s no embarrassment about his erection, about his body. He’s the picture of masculine arousal. “Don’t tempt me, Samantha.”

It’s all I’ve wanted to do, tempt him. I realized that down in the water. Before that I wanted him to love me. Not only as a guardian. There were these rules transcribed in my heart. It doesn’t matter that they came from the wistfulness of being orphaned. They weren’t fair to him. Instead of wanting his love, I’m going to love him. Simple and complex. Immediate and eternal. There’s no requirement that he loves me back. Love is a word. It’s a weakness. I protect you. That’s all that matters. Yes, protection would be enough from this man. Maybe one day he would wake up in an ordinary, domestic life and finally believe I won’t ever leave. Or maybe he’ll doubt me for the rest of his life. I’ll make no demands. That’s the surest sign of faith I know how to give him.

I hook my thumbs into my panties and push them down my legs. A step out of them. It feels like walking out of an ocean. I’m on the shore now, my toes in the sand. He stares at me like I’m an otherworld creature. Love isn’t a weakness, Liam. Look at me. I’m strong because of you. And I can protect you, too.

I sink to my knees, but he grasps my wrist.

“No,” he says.

“No?”

He turns me so that I’m sitting on the ledge, the waning sun warm on my back, my legs pushed apart by the height of my perch. A palm on my thighs opens me farther. His gaze turns to malachite as he stares at my center. “My turn.”

A caveman could not sound more primitive. More possessive.

“Your turn to do what?” I ask, even as he kneels in front of me. My sex clenches in anticipation of his touch. His mouth. My turn, as if it’s something he’s been wanting. “Oh.”

His thumb slicks through my core, and I squirm, pressing my back against the window. If anyone takes a walk on the lawn, they’ll see my bare bottom. My naked back. My hair falling around my shoulders. If anyone sees me they’ll know my legs are spread for him.

Liam

“Such a brave girl,” I murmur, my mouth already watering. She smells like saltwater and sunshine. I press my face against her sex, wanting her more than air. A turn to the side. I bite down on the inside of her thigh. The high-pitched sound she makes in response almost has me coming on the carpet like a goddamn teenager.

Her sex glistens with arousal. I slide my tongue to taste her. Yes. It’s the reassurance I needed. The reassurance I would never have demanded—that she’s safe and alive and here with me. The terror of the cisterns still nips at my composure. I’m still not convinced she’s unscathed. Those kind of experiences can haunt a person. I should know. There was no way to refuse her offering, not with her breasts high and tight, the dark hair between her legs already fragrant. A flick of my tongue on her clit makes her moan.

It’s almost enough to distract me from my purpose. Another lick. Another. I could make her come, hear her screams, do it again. I’d be inside her pulsing sex before she could ask, pumping deep enough that she’d forget about earlier, that she’d forget everything.

I clamp down on my urges. Patience, you bastard.

Of all people, Samantha deserves my patience. She’s certainly waited long enough for this. My dress pants are draped over the chair. I grab them and pull out the black velvet box. “My turn to taste you, yes. I’m going to. It’s also my turn to tell you that I love you. That I want you any way that you’ll have me—but I hope you’ll have me as your husband.”

She stares at the black box, looking almost… frightened?

I become aware that I’m naked. She’s naked. Maybe she would rather be dressed for a proposal. Maybe she wanted something in the middle of a ballroom of people. Shaking hands take the box from me. She opens it. Tears shield her reaction.

“If you want a regular diamond, we can do that. This was a private sale, and Frans seemed sure… now that I think about it, I have no idea why I would have listened to him.”

“It’s perfect,” she whispers.

“I suppose it’s because he’s married.

That makes you think he knows how it’s done. Of course I have no idea how it’s done. I’m going to make a million mistakes, but I’ll do it with love. With adoration. With gratitude, if you’ll let me try.”

Her gaze meets mine, swimming with a sense of uncertainty. “I didn’t expect this from you. You didn’t have to, you know that right? This kind of openness…”