by Nell Stark
“You’re sure?”
“I have never been more certain of anything,” Alix said, knowing she had also never been so truthful.
When there were finally no longer any physical barriers between them, Alix slid under the covers and held out one hand. “Come here.”
Thalia closed the space between their bodies, pressing Alix down into the mattress with a deep kiss. At the sensation of skin against skin, Alix moaned and wrapped both arms around Thalia. The softness and strength and heat of Thalia’s body made her head spin, and she clutched desperately at her shoulders in an attempt to anchor herself. Thalia pulled back just enough to capture her gaze before sliding one thigh between Alix’s legs. The gentle pressure set off fireworks beneath her skin, and she cried out.
“You are so responsive,” Thalia whispered, repeating the motion. This time, Alix surged against her, intensifying the sensation and causing Thalia’s eyes to glaze. Thalia bowed her head and began to move in earnest, setting a slow and deliberate rhythm that maximized the contact between their skin. Heat poured down Alix’s spine. Aching in anticipation, she clutched at Thalia’s shoulder blades, feeling the muscles bunch beneath her palms.
Suddenly, Thalia sat up, putting unwelcome space between them. “Oh God, I’m right on the edge,” she panted, her body shuddering. But when Alix tried to join her, Thalia held her hips in place. “No. I want to make love to you the way I promised. Right now.”
Alix saw the wildness in Thalia’s eyes and wanted to yield to it. She wanted Thalia to be the one to show her the heights of the passion only she had ever inspired. She wanted to know. She wanted to feel.
“Yes,” she said deliberately. “That’s what I want.”
With a shaky sigh, Thalia settled against Alix’s side, pillowing her head on one elbow and resting one palm on her stomach. Alix closed the distance between them, initiating the kiss to confirm her words. When Thalia’s hand rose to cup each breast, Alix groaned into her mouth, and when that hand slid down her abdomen, down toward the apex of her thighs, Alix opened her legs, offering herself up without hesitation. Thalia broke the kiss but remained poised above her, holding Alix’s gaze as her fingers dipped down to stroke her most sensitive skin.
Alix gasped for breath, shivering helplessly at each soft, exploratory stroke. When Thalia returned to circle one especially sensitive spot (the clitoris, her medical brain supplied helpfully), Alix’s hips jerked and she cried out at the intense rush of pleasure.
“You’re beautiful,” Thalia whispered, shifting her hand back to Alix’s abdomen, where she rubbed soothing circles against her skin.
“Why did you stop?” Alix knew she sounded pathetic but was beyond caring.
“Because I want to be inside you,” Thalia said.
A cautionary note in her voice pierced the haze of Alix’s desire, and she thought she understood. She grasped Thalia’s wrist and guided her hand between her thighs. She had waited long enough for this.
“Do it,” she whispered. “I want you inside me, and I’m not afraid—”
She choked off when Thalia touched her again, first in light circles and then more firmly, until she had rocketed back to the edge of the precipice. Thalia held her gaze as she moved down deliberately, dipping one finger barely inside before returning to the swollen nerves above. Alix shuddered, eyes closing automatically as she surrendered to the sensation.
“Keep them open,” Thalia whispered fiercely.
With an effort, Alix obeyed.
When Thalia finally slid inside, electricity arced through Alix at the intimacy of their connection and every muscle in her body tightened like a clock being wound. Thalia paused, breathing heavily. “Are you okay?”
Alix licked dry lips. “Yes. Feels…amazing.”
“I’m glad.” Thalia flexed her finger gently, and Alix’s hips surged. “You’re so tight.” She kissed Alix’s stomach and then moved down, nudging her legs apart to fit her broad shoulders between them. “Try to relax. I want you deeper.” She held Alix’s hips in place with one hand on her abdomen before pushing further inside with gentle pressure.
Beyond words, Alix could only moan in response. She found Thalia’s shoulder and squeezed as Thalia’s warm breath streamed across her most sensitive skin. Alix’s throat contracted in a sharp cry, and she instinctively tried to shift closer to Thalia’s mouth, but the hand that restrained her was effective.
“Do you remember what I promised?” Thalia’s voice was low and intense. Alix forced her eyes open and looked down over the expanse of her own torso to where Thalia lay between her thighs. It was a moment she wanted to preserve in her mind forever—the tender ferocity of Thalia’s expression as she slowly eased her finger in and out in a slow, sensual rhythm. “I promised to make you come with my mouth,” Thalia continued. “Is that what you want?”
Unable to speak over the knot of anticipation in her throat, Alix nodded frantically.
“Good,” Thalia said, and leaned forward to keep her word.
Softness and heat enveloped her, like warm silk…but all comparisons failed as Thalia moved against her and inside her, sparking currents of pleasure so sharp as to be unbearable. Her back arched and her breaths came in gasps, and when the ecstasy finally consumed her, she cried out in triumph and relief.
She shivered with aftershocks for a long time, and Thalia patiently drew them out, kissing and stroking her until she lay quiescent. Afterward, Thalia moved up to cover Alix’s body, smoothing the hair away from her damp forehead before leaning down for a kiss. The realization that she was tasting herself on Thalia’s lips made Alix pull her closer in a renewed surge of wanting.
Thalia finally broke away, hands framing Alix’s face. “How do you feel?” she asked breathlessly.
“Extraordinary.” Alix ran her hands up and down Thalia’s back, savoring the play of her muscles beneath the skin. “Nothing could have prepared me for that.”
Thalia’s smile was incandescent. “You let yourself feel everything, and it was so, so beautiful.”
Inspired by the hoarseness in Thalia’s voice, Alix shifted onto her own side to face her. She reached out to stroke her face, mapping the contours of Thalia’s cheekbones, the ridge of her nose, the plush of her lips. “And you? Will you let yourself feel everything?”
Thalia caught her hand. “I don’t want to pressure you,” she said, but the words trembled.
“I’m not feeling any pressure at all,” Alix said, linking their fingers and pushing down on Thalia’s hand until it rested on the pillow beside her head. “Lie back, now.” When Thalia obeyed, the desire in her expression inspired Alix to be bold. She sat up and gently pushed Thalia’s legs apart before kneeling between them. When she rested both hands on Thalia’s abdomen, her hips jerked.
“I’m so ready for you,” Thalia confessed.
Alix had never experienced this kind of power, and it sluiced through her now in a heady rush. But when she thought of how many lovers Thalia had had, and how experienced they all undoubtedly must have been, her self-confidence evaporated as quickly as it had arrived.
“Will you tell me what you like?” she asked, hating the insecurity in her voice.
“I like your hands on me.” Thalia’s eyes blazed up at her. “I want you to explore me however you want. Touch me however you want. Please, Alix.”
“And you’ll tell me if there’s something I’m doing…wrong?”
“There are no right ways and wrong ways to make love,” Thalia said. “There’s just our way. The way we discover together.”
Discover. Alix flexed her fingers experimentally, fanning them out across the ridges of Thalia’s stomach muscles. Thalia was giving her permission to do exactly what she had craved—to experiment. Dizzy with anticipation, she lowered herself so that her own abdomen was cradled in the vee of Thalia’s thighs, before reaching up to cup her breasts. Thalia’s low whimper of encouragement banished her lingering self-doubt.
“You do remember that I’m a scientis
t,” she said. “Trained in the art of data collection. Highly detail-oriented.” Thalia watched her hands avidly as Alix reached up to grasp both nipples between her thumbs and index fingers. “For example,” she continued, relishing the expectation on Thalia’s features, “I wonder what will happen when I do this?” She pinched lightly.
Thalia closed her eyes and groaned. When Alix did it again, this time rubbing her thumbs back and forth, Thalia’s hips jerked beneath her. At once delighted and in awe, Alix carried on, first settling into a rhythm that made Thalia’s breath hiss in her throat, and then varying the rhythm so she didn’t know what to expect.
“You can do it harder,” she gasped.
The words sent a jolt through Alix, and she was about to oblige when she remembered that this was her opportunity to explore. She would file away that intriguing detail for future reference. “I’m glad to know that,” she said. “But I’d prefer to try something else instead.”
When she dipped her head to kiss the tip of one breast, then the other, Thalia threw one hand over her eyes and muttered an unintelligible curse. Settling into a more comfortable position, Alix braced herself on one arm, continuing to tease, but now with both mouth and fingers. Every sound Thalia made increased not only her confidence, but her own arousal.
Thalia’s head thrashed against the pillow as her moans began to resolve into a single word: Please. Glorying in the sensual power she wielded, Alix dared to smooth her hand down, down across Thalia’s ribs, down to rest in the shallow indentation of her inner thigh. She raised her head from Thalia’s breast.
“Is this what you want?”
“Oh please,” Thalia rasped, raising one hand to cup Alix’s face. “Touch me, please. I’m begging you. I’ll go out of my mind if you don’t.”
Alix caught her hand and kissed the palm. “I will.”
Thalia’s eyes suddenly cleared of haze. “It’s what you want?”
The vulnerability with which she asked the question made Alix’s chest constrict. Even now, trembling with a need that Alix had fired and stoked, Thalia was considerate enough to prioritize Alix’s comfort.
“You are what I want,” she whispered, holding Thalia’s gaze as she slid her fingers down.
At the first touch, Thalia’s eyes closed and her back arched. She was warm and wet and slick, and Alix gently traced the contours of her folds with questing fingers. They soon found their target, and she pressed lightly against the swollen bundle of nerves, testing how Thalia liked to be touch.
“Oh my God.” Thalia’s hips jerked.
Alix circled the spot gently before pressing again, feeling the rapid pulse beneath her touch. At Thalia’s strangled cry, she felt as though she had discovered the existence of some mythical country and been proclaimed its savior.
“Al-Alix. I’m going to—”
Not wanting this to be over yet, Alix quickly moved her hand away. When Thalia protested that she was going to perish, Alix demurred and kissed her dry lips. “Shhh. Trust me.”
She coated her fingertips with Thalia’s wetness, and slid two inside. The sensation of being enveloped by her body was like nothing Alix had ever experienced, and she craved more. Slowly and carefully, she worked her way deeper, before pausing to flutter her fingers. When Thalia’s internal muscles flickered in response, she had to do it again.
“Alix.” Thalia’s voice broke on the syllables, and her eyes were two pools of darkness. “I’m so close.”
Triumphant yet tender, Alix shifted her hand to swirl the pad of her thumb across Thalia’s most sensitive skin. “Let go,” she urged her, holding her breath.
Thalia shouted her name as she found her release, her hips lifting as her body clamped down hard around Alix’s fingers. Alix drank in the moment as Thalia trembled in her arms. She had never seen or heard anything more beautifully intimate than the sensation of Thalia finding ecstasy, and she wanted to make it happen all over again. But when she began to thrust lightly, Thalia reached for her wrist.
“Good instincts,” she said in a low, gritty voice. “Normally, I’d want more right away. But that was so intense.”
All evidence to the contrary, Alix couldn’t help but worry that Thalia didn’t want her to continue touching her because she had been terrible at it. “Okay,” she said softly, easing her fingers from the grip of Thalia’s body.
Thalia trapped her hand before she could pull it away entirely. “That was incredible,” she said, gazing up intently at Alix. “You are an amazing lover. Stop second-guessing yourself.”
“You’re a good teacher,” Alix said, wanting to deflect the attention.
“Maybe,” Thalia conceded, “but all I taught you tonight was that you should feel free to surrender to passion. Once you stopped being afraid of it and let instinct take over…” When she shivered at the memory, Alix finally believed she was telling the truth. “Wow.”
“Wow?” Alix gave her a skeptical look. “You Americans use that word too much.”
“You Americans, huh?” Thalia surged up, catching Alix off guard, and rolled them until she was on top. “I’m half British, you know.” Settling one thigh between Alix’s legs, Thalia looked all too smug as she discovered the physical evidence of Alix’s renewed arousal. “Hmm,” she said, thrusting lightly. “What have we here? Someone is ready for second helpings.” Alix felt herself blush, which was utterly ridiculous after everything they had just shared.
Thalia’s smile gentled. “Don’t be embarrassed,” she whispered against Alix’s ear, batting the lobe with her tongue. “Your desire is beautiful. You are beautiful. And I’m going to prove it to you all over again.”
As Thalia pressed a line of burning kisses down her neck, Alix melted into the mattress, surrendering to the maelstrom.
Chapter Eighteen
Alix watched the waiter refill her champagne flute and tried in vain not to worry about Thalia. The London skyline lay spread out at her feet like the Lego towns Florestan had enjoyed building as a boy. She had never been permitted to help him, but had admired his civic-minded handiwork from a distance. Now, at the apex of the London Eye in a private capsule rented by the Duke of Suffolk, Lord Brandis, she had a much more profound appreciation for the vision that went into city planning. Immaculate bridges crisscrossed the winding Thames, iridescent under the sun, while buildings old and new formed orderly rows punctuated by the green slashes and dots of parks. Civilization.
But the price of civilization seemed to be that its denizens—who missed, in some atavistic way according to Thalia’s argument, the thrill of the hunt encoded into their DNA—found an outlet for those unfulfilled instincts in sanctioned risky behaviors. The military. Skydiving. Motorsport.
Glancing surreptitiously at her watch, Alix mentally calculated the countdown to the Belgian Grand Prix. Just under two hours to go. Thalia would be suited up and getting ready to drive a few practice laps. There had been a few problems with the gearbox during Thursday’s practice sessions, and she hoped it was no longer an issue. Thalia had qualified at P3—her best yet—and Alix hoped she made it to the very top of the podium. But mostly, she hoped Thalia would be safe, especially because the forecast was calling for rain.
Since their night together in Monaco, Alix’s worries about Thalia’s well-being had become sharper and more well-defined. One afternoon, while she should have been making revisions to her business plan to discuss with her lawyer, Alix had instead found herself researching Formula One injuries. For a dark time during its history, the sport had been among the deadliest imaginable, claiming the life of multiple drivers every year. At times, more than one driver had been killed in a single race.
Now, thanks to improvements in the engineering of the cars and construction of the tracks, as well as new rules and regulations about everything from driver helmets to the flame-retardant fabric of their jumpsuits, a driver hadn’t been killed in a Grand Prix for over twenty years. But that didn’t change the fact that in just under two hours, Thalia would be acceleratin
g to speeds upward of three hundred kilometers per hour while jockeying for position with everyone else on the course.
But now was not a time to indulge in worry. She had business to conduct and social graces to uphold. Fortunately, there was a familiar and friendly face in the small enclosure: Ashleigh, Princess of Wales, still radiant in her third trimester of pregnancy. They hadn’t been able to do more than exchange greetings and some small talk earlier, but now, as Lord Brandis paused the conversation about London architecture to consult with the waiter, Ashleigh leaned across the table.
“Thank you for bringing us this Monegasque weather, Alix. It’s been an exceptionally rainy spring, and we’re all appreciative.”
Alix laughed. “I wish I could claim the credit.”
“I had intended to write to you after the party but lost track of the time. It was a lovely event.”
“I’m so glad you enjoyed it.” Remembering that night made her think of Thalia, and she could only hope her face wasn’t betraying her. “I owe at least part of my recent good fortune to you, I think,” she said. “It was at Sasha’s wedding that I met Thalia d’Angelis, and she first introduced me to Lord and Lady Rufford.”
“Then you owe your good fortune to Sasha and Kerry,” Ashleigh said with a smile.
“True,” Alix said, quickly deciding that it would be best not to divulge that the prospect of meeting Ashleigh to discuss not-for-profits had been a significant part of her motivation to attend the royal wedding. “And how are they finding married life? They looked well in Monaco, but I didn’t have the chance to speak with them much.”
Ashleigh’s smile broadened. “It agrees with them immensely. I honestly don’t believe I’ve ever seen either happier. They’re an exceptional team.”
An exceptional team. That sounded like such an appealing kind of relationship. She and Thalia had that kind of potential: Thalia was the charismatic public figure, while she worked best behind the scenes, nurturing their shared vision by keeping all the details organized.
