His lips left my ear, finding my mouth as he dipped his finger inside of me. His kiss absorbed my moan, muffling the sweet, lustful sounds he wrung out of me as he slowly slid his finger in and out. He added a second finger, stretching me wider and deeper than I’d never felt before. His thumb continued to circle my clit as his fingers curled inside me, massaging my inner walls in a way that made my eyes roll back.
I ground my hips into his fingers, my body taking over as I chased that sensation building within me—a precipice I’d only ever reached with my own hands . . . and never, ever like this. Grae’s fingers strummed through my body like he was playing the sweetest song. The rhythm of his fingers matched the circling of his thumb, thrusting faster as my movements became wilder. With every breath, I climbed higher, my body becoming light and dizzy as every inch of me homed in on those fingers.
Higher and higher, that buzzing grew until Grae wrapped his other hand around my neck, holding my mouth to his as my soft sounds turned to deeper moans. I was so close. With one more pump of his fingers, my climax blasted through me, shattering shards of white-hot bliss through every muscle in my body. Grae’s chest vibrated against mine as he absorbed my hot moans of pleasure, his fingers wringing out each little note as I clenched around him again and again, riding his hand and chasing that euphoria. My sounds ebbed to heavy panting breaths and his lips finally released me, his fingers slowly sliding out and finding my back again.
“That . . . was,” I breathed, my face flushing as my body echoed with pleasure.
“Barely the beginning,” Grae promised, his swollen lips brushing a soft kiss into my hair. “Tomorrow. Promise me we’ll find someplace, just us.”
“Tomorrow,” I said, tucking my face into the crook of his neck. The heaviness of sleep tugged on me again as my heart slowed. A smile twisted my lips. I couldn’t believe we just did that, and, in the same exact breath, nothing had felt more right—as if our bodies were finally acknowledging what we’d known all along in our souls: we were meant to be one.
“Everybody out!”
The shout made me jolt. Grae’s arms tightened around me before he even opened his eyes.
“Shit,” Hector growled. “Rooks.”
The sound of curtains sliding open filled the cabin. I rolled out of the bunk after Grae and quickly grabbed my undergarments and leathers. I jumped them up over my thighs, buckling them as shouts rang out.
“We’re at a road stop,” Navin said, throwing a shirt over his head. He must’ve swapped driving with Ora in the wee hours of the morning.
My eyes widened at his surprisingly muscled torso and then darted to Sadie, who was gawking at him from her bunk. I tried to hide my smirk. When the hem of his tunic reached his belt and his muscles were off display, she began flicking her throwing knife again.
“What happens at a road stop?” Hector asked.
Mina and Malou sat around the kitchen table, already dressed. The narrow galley made it hard for everyone to gather. I spotted the swaying strands of badges hanging from the chandelier, looking patchier and sparser than when last I’d checked. Had some fallen off during the ride?
Grae stepped in front of me, blocking my line of sight to cover me while I changed my shirt. I chuckled. People were frantically getting shoes on and grabbing weapons. No one was looking at me.
“If we’re lucky, they’ll just ask for money and send us on our way,” Malou said.
“And if we’re not lucky?” Sadie asked.
“Then one of us might get a black eye or our stuff stolen,” she muttered, biting her thumbnail as she eyed us. “But with you lot here, who knows?”
“Everybody out!” a voice boomed again. Solid thwacks knocked down the side of the wagon. The unsettling sound pushed everyone to dress faster.
“Just be calm,” Navin said, ushering us to the back ladder. “It’ll be fine.”
“That’s what you said last time,” Malou muttered. She and Mina clambered over the couches and down the ladder.
I followed behind her, Grae’s hand on the small of my back, wondering what had happened last time. The bright sunlight was blinding against the freshly fallen snow. The heavy shadows and low angle of the sun told me it was still early morning. Only the smallest flashes of color peeked out from the frozen surroundings. We had entered another narrow pass on our descent toward Olmdere. A watchtower sat on the hill above us, looking like a lighthouse in a sea of snow.
Four Rooks stood beside the wagon, only their eyes visible above their covered mouths and noses. Ora stood beside the oxen, watching as we climbed out. The only one dressed for the weather, they wore a fur hat and thick indigo cloak. We barely had time to put on shoes, as we stumbled out in tunics and trousers. The chill bit into my skin and my arms instinctively wrapped around me as I trudged out into the ankle-deep snow.
“Where are you heading?” the front Rook asked Ora. His black cape whipped behind him, sounding like the flapping of a bird’s wings. He nodded to two of his comrades and they broke off to search the wagon.
“Olmdere, my Lord,” Ora said, taking off their hat and brushing back their curls as they bowed slightly to the Rook. “We are Galen den’ Mora. We are going to perform at Her Majesty’s celebrations.”
Her Majesty. The words made acid rise up my throat.
“You’re all musicians?” The Rook’s hood turned as he assessed our lineup. He twirled his hand scythe around his pointer finger, brandishing his steel claws for all to see.
“Yes, musicians and crew,” Ora murmured.
The Rook walked down the line of us, looking each of us up and down. Mina clenched her sister’s hand as the Rook paused in front of her.
“What’s your name?” he asked her.
Her gray eyes grew impossibly wide as she signed her name back to him.
“Mina,” Malou interpreted for her and in that moment the twins looked so different I wondered how I could’ve ever mixed them up. Malou was sharp and fierce. Mina was gentle and shy. Both were beautiful and talented, but never once had I seen that wide-eyed fear of Mina’s expression on Malou’s face, nor the gruff distaste in Malou’s pinched mouth on Mina’s.
The Rook arched his brow. “A musician who can’t hear?”
“She can hear,” Malou said, her tone tipping the balance from sharp to mean. “There’s more than one reason to use the language of signs.”
The Rook twisted toward her so quickly it made her rock back on her heels. He twirled his hand scythe again and Malou had the good sense to stay quiet.
He snickered at her surprise, but kept walking, apparently satisfied with her reply. I kept my gaze downcast, watching as his boots appeared before mine.
“And your name?” I knew he was asking me without looking up.
I wasn’t sure if it was better to lie or not. Now that people knew about King Nero’s renouncement of Grae, maybe they’d know my name, too.
“Vellia,” I said.
“Vellia what?” the Rook asked, tilting his head so his eyes pierced into me from under his heavy brow.
Grae sidestepped closer to me.
“Vellia Sortienna, my Lord,” I said, bowing my head. Vellia of the Golden Trees. It had been the first word that popped into my mind. “I’m a singer.”