by Anya Bast
“Evianna?”
He nodded. “Threesomes aren’t uncommon in Milzyrian universities. We shared her in the beginning, but early on it became clear that Alek and Evianna shared feelings that went beyond adventuresome sex. A deeper relationship was blooming. The fun was over and I bowed out.”
“I wondered. You both seemed to know what you were doing.” She grinned. “The chorography, I mean.”
“I never intended for it to happen, but it feels natural with him. I saw you, I wanted you, you seemed to want me back, so I took you. I knew that Alek wouldn’t object.”
She nodded and met his eyes. “And neither did I, all right? Not on any level.” She wouldn’t talk about the confusing tangle of emotion that clogged her chest.
“Sharing you seemed less painful than knowing you might be with Alek alone. It was somewhat selfish of me.”
She made a frustrated sound and studied the soap bubbles fiercely. “You say those things and you confuse me again. I do care for Alek and am coming to care for him more every day. You brought me here to enter into some kind of relationship with him and then you—”
He reached out, gently cupped her chin, and guided her gaze to his. “You are free to do as you want with him. I have no hold over you, and I would never wish to put one on you. You control your body and the decisions you make.”
She pressed her lips together, her eyes pricking with tears. The woman she’d been before Byron had reentered her life would have welcomed those words, but the woman who feared she was in love with Byron wanted a different set of sentences. She wanted him to say. I love you. You are mine and no one else’s.
Sweet Joshui, she was a stupid, naive woman. She would never hear that from him and she needed to get used to it.
She dragged in an uneven breath and moved her chin, breaking his hold on her. “We’ll see what happens between Alek and I.”
“Whatever happens, I will accept.”
His gaze drifted to her breasts, just barely covered by the top of the soapy water. She smiled at how dark his eyes had gone and raised an eyebrow. “Want to come in here with me?”
“I want to be wherever you are.”
Her smile faded and her heart squeezed. He sounded so honest when he said that. She reached out, caught his hand, and yanked. Of course, he was too big for her to truly pull into the bath, but he came anyway, clothes and all. They laughed, water splashing over the rim of the bathtub and sloshing onto the floor around it.
His wet clothes rasped her bare skin as he sat up and caught her face between his hands, kissing her. “I’m glad to have you here, Lilya.”
She smiled against his lips. Yes, and having to leave was going to slice her through, she could feel it already. This man had a power over her she couldn’t deny. One minute it made her want to hold him close and never let go. The next minute she wanted to run as fast as she could away from him.
The latter reaction was the healthiest and most intelligent. Apparently she neither cared about her health nor was she all that smart.
The snow reflected the cold winter sunlight into her painting room and lit up her work area. It had been a long time since she’d put paint to canvas and even when she’d been younger, she’d had very little formal instruction. It had taken her two days to work up enough nerve to dip her brush into the paint, a day more to actually set it against the canvas.
She’d feared she wouldn’t be able to do it anymore—not the way she used to. So much had happened since she’d last opened herself up to paint, and back then, when she’d been a child, she’d been poor . . . but she’d also felt safe and loved. It had provided her a freedom she’d taken for granted.
After she stared at the blank canvas in challenge for a moment, she closed her eyes and imagined the scene in her head that she wanted to paint, cementing that image solidly in her mind. Then she opened her eyes and began to stroke her brush across the canvas, according to the picture she held in her mind’s eye. Slowly, it began to take form.
Her father had always marveled at her ability to do this. He called it raw talent. For her, it had always simply been an escape. After her father had died and she’d been on the streets, she hadn’t had paint, brushes, or canvas, but she’d had her imagination. She’d become good at closing her eyes and imagining herself far away from her harsh reality and, sometimes, depending on how much her stomach hurt, even her hunger.
She stepped away from her work, tipped her head to the side, and frowned. She’d chosen an alley of Milzyr to paint. Joshui knew enough of them were emblazoned in her mind’s eye. This one was shown in the dead of winter, from one of the nights she remembered vividly. It had been one of the times she hadn’t been sure she’d make it through. Somehow, though, she’d always managed to find shelter.
Someone knocked on the door and then opened it. She leapt in front of the canvas to block her work with her body, not totally certain it was good enough for outside appraisal just yet.
“I thought I’d find you here.” Byron strolled toward her. “You’ve been up here since this morning. Aren’t you hungry?”
At the word hungry, her stomach growled. She’d been so immersed in her work, she hadn’t even known she’d skipped lunch. “I am a little, I guess.” She paused, repositioned herself in front of the canvas. “I’ve been working.”
“Don’t want me to see, right?”
“I’m not sure.”
“I’m really curious, Lilya, but if you want me to leave, I will.”
She chewed her lower lip. “No. I don’t want you to leave.” Hesitating only a moment, she stepped to the side. She trusted Byron not to criticize her work or belittle her in any way.
His face went blank as he walked toward it, taking in the scene. “Lilya, I had no idea that you were at this level. This is an extremely detailed painting. The angles, the shadows.” He glanced at her. “Who taught you to paint this way?”
“No one. I’ve always been able to do this. When I was a child I used to draw on the front stoop of our house using charcoal. I don’t know how I do it. I just see the scene in my mind and recreate it on paper.”
He studied it. “It’s beautiful and I’m incredibly impressed.” His praise made her flush. “It’s a little depressing though. Is this is a scene you remember from after your father’s death? A Milzyr alley in winter?”
“Yes.” She came to stand beside him. “But I don’t find it depressing. I was just remembering back to how fortunate I was, actually.”
He glanced at her. “Fortunate? I don’t follow.”
She shrugged a shoulder. “It’s wasn’t easy, living the way I did, but I was so much luckier than some of the others I knew. I always managed to find somewhere warm on cold nights.” She paused, remembering back. “I found this little alcove on the top of a dressmaker’s shop. She had an apartment above her store with a fireplace she used constantly. I set up a little nook there, near the warm pipe and shielded it from the wind with wood and old blankets I found.”
“That’s not luck. It’s intelligence.”
“Either way, I never lost any of my toes to frostbite. I was never caught and mistreated by a man.” She stopped, swallowed hard. “At least, not then. I made it through. I survived. So when I look at that scene there, I don’t see anything depressing.”
He pulled her to him and kissed the top of her head. “You have a perspective not many others would have. I love you for that.” Her heart rate sped up. He reached out and touched her nose. “You have paint all over you. You’re going to need a bath again.”
She turned into his arms and went up on her tippy-toes to kiss him. “Maybe you can help me with that.”
His arms came around her waist. “What an irresistible suggestion.”
She closed her eyes and sighed. Contentment washed through her like a warm breeze. Alone on the streets of Milzyr she may have been able to imagine herself away from time to time, but she’d never imagined being this happy. Never. If only it could last.
Lily
a slipped down the hallway, headed to her room, and passed Alek’s door. It was ajar, almost as if he was waiting for someone. She paused, considering it. Firelight flickered out into the cold corridor, licking at the paintings on the walls and bathing the accent tables and vases in its warm light.
Frowning, she tightened the tie of her wrap around her a little better and peered into his room. Alek sat propped on his large four-poster bed with his eyes closed. The firelight licked over the muscled plane of his chest and down the strong build of his arms. The house was frigid tonight, despite the fact many of the hearths burned bright, but she’d noticed that the colder temperatures didn’t seem to bother him much.
Her mind traveled back to the story he’d told about Evianna. Her heart broke for this man. She could see why he’d given up his magick after the traumatic experience he’d had with it, yet couldn’t he see what an asset his ability was? She could think of at least five people in Milzyr who she knew personally could benefit from his skill.
It was selfish of him to hold it back from the world, no matter how devastating the reason. On that point, she completely agreed with Byron. Now they just needed to make Alek see it.
Silently, she entered his room. He appeared to be sleeping. His glasses had been laid carefully on the bedside table and a history book lay facedown on the mattress beside him. Once at his bedside, she reached out and laid her hand on his chest, just above his heart. His skin warmed her palm.
His eyes popped open, startling her. Before she could back away, he grabbed her wrist and tumbled her to the bed, rolling her to her back. Dragging her beneath him and covering her body with his, he murmured, “Good evening.” The history book fell to the floor with a loud thump.
The pressure of his body on hers made her crave more of it, hopefully the kind where both of them had their clothes off. Fighting to get her breath back, she smiled up at him. “Good evening.”
“To what do I owe the pleasure of your presence in my room?”
“I was just on my way to bed and I noticed your door was open.”
His smile went a little mischievous. “Ah. Thank Joshui I forgot to close it, then.”
“I’m happy you did too.” Her voice sounded a little breathless already and he hadn’t even touched her yet. His presence seemed to have that effect on her.
He raised an eyebrow. “Now that you’re here, what shall we do?” Mock innocence tinged his tone.
“I can think of a couple things.”
“So can I.” He lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her gently. It was change of pace from the Alek she’d come to expect. His lips slipped over hers, sipping her, until her insides felt warm and her knees were the consistency of melted butter.
She twined her fingers in the short hair at the base of his neck, her other hand sliding down over the muscles of his arm, admiring its strength.
His eased his hand from its resting place on her hip, down over the curve of her rear to the back of her thigh. Her wrap slipped open and his fingers found bare skin. He made a purring sound in the back of his throat and his kiss deepened into something hungrier. His tongue pushed into her mouth and stroked up against hers, sending shivers down her spine.
Making quick work of her wrap and nightgown, he soon had her bare beneath him. She pushed up against him, pushing the waistband of his soft cotton pants down until she could wrap her hands around his cock. He made a groan of pleasure as she stroked him from crown to base. Wanting to hear more of that, she dropped her head and took him into her mouth.
Alek went still for a moment, then let out a long, low groan. His head fell back against the mattress and his fingers found and twined in her hair. She worked him in and out of her mouth, her tongue exploring him to find all the secret places that made him react with pleasure. She liked taking men this way, especially ones that enjoyed being in control, like Alek. It was amusing the way a woman could render a powerful man helpless with only a few swipes of her tongue.
Finally, he rolled her to her back and covered her body with his. After staring into her eyes for a long moment, he dropped to worship one breast with his mouth, then the other, sucking each nipple into hard reddened little peaks. After transforming her into a panting mess with his lips on her breasts, he moved down, kissing her abdomen and the insides of her thighs before settling his wicked mouth on her sex.
Her back arched at the sensation of his hot tongue exploring her folds, he found her clit and lapped at it, making her moan out his name. His fingers found her entrance and slipped inside, thrusting in and out while he gently sucked on her aroused clit. The edge of a climax teased her, but he withheld it, skillfully letting it ebb away and build back up, making her crazy with need.
“Alek,” she breathed, pushing up at him. “I need you.” She went on all fours, her rear to him and her hips tilted up. She knew what she looked like, her cunt wet from his mouth and swollen with arousal. “Please.”
He ran his hand down the arch of her spine, over her rear, and between her thighs. He speared one finger inside her, then two. Her breath hissed out of her. “You are so beautiful, Lilya,” he murmured. “What do you want me to do to you?”
“I want you fuck me, Alek,” she moaned. He continued to thrust in and out of her and she rested her head on her forearms, her breath coming fast. “Please.”
He eased up behind her and set the head of his cock to her entrance. Slowly, he pressed the smooth crown into her, inch by inch. Her head snapped up and she let out a low, guttural groan of pleasure as he hilted inside her.
Rising up onto her knees, she braced her hands on his hips behind her and rocked on him, driving his cock deep inside her. His hands roamed her breasts, teasing her nipples as he thrust into her. Together they found an easy, slow, rolling rhythm that worked for the position, their bodies moving like one.
He nipped at her ear and slid a hand down between her spread thighs to stroke her clit. He knew just how to touch her to bring her to the edge of a climax and suspend her there in a haze of heavy pleasure. “Are you going to come, Lilya?” he asked in a low, silky voice near her ear.
“Yes,” she breathed.
He continued to stroke into her until she shattered. Crying out, she went down on all fours as the orgasm washed through her. He grabbed her hips and took her hard and fast in long, deep thrusts. Their bodies smacked together, every inward stroke jarring her. Her climax stuttered to a halt, then reignited, exploding over her and making her cry out anew.
Behind her Alek called her name and she felt his cock jump deep inside her.
He pulled out of her and rolled to the side, taking her with him. “Ah, sweet Joshui,” he breathed.
She snuggled against him, her head nestled in the curve of his neck. Running her hand over the curves and valleys of his chest, she dropped a kiss to his warm skin.
He rolled her over and dragged her beneath his body, his mouth down close to hers. “Stay with me tonight. I want to wake up beside you.”
She smiled. “I want that too.”
His hand slipped over her breast and abdomen to between her thighs, where she was still very slick from the remnants of their lovemaking. He found her clit and petted it softly. She sighed, closing her eyes. “I love to make you come.”
Her eyes fluttered open and she licked her lips, her body already flaring hot for him again. “You do it very well.”
“Spread your legs for me.”
She complied and he slipped his hand down to her nether hole, gathering moisture as he went. He didn’t ask, because Alek wasn’t the asking type. He just slid the tip of his finger inside.
She started in surprised. “Alek . . .”
“Shhh . . . relax.” He eased in another inch.
All the nerves exploded to life, pleasure of a sort she didn’t often feel radiating through her. She sighed and closed her eyes, giving in to it.
He eased in a little more, then added a second. She gasped as her body adjusted to accommodate him and the pleasure grew hotter and b
righter. “Alek,” she said again, but this time it came out on a low moan.
Readjusting his position, he used his other hand to stimulate her clit. Soon she was lost in a haze of ecstasy. Strange, intense pleasure tingled through her body, made her wiggle on the bed beneath him. When she finally came, she did it bucking and stifling her cries with the blanket stuffed into her mouth.
When it was all over, she rested against him, feeling completely satisfied and a little dazed. “My . . . goodness” was all she could say.
Alek chuckled and kissed her forehead. “And the night is young,” he whispered.
Seventeen
Would you like to come in to the university with me today?” Byron asked, entering the dining room the next day.
She set her coffee cup on the table and gazed out the window at all the snow. “Can we? That storm was pretty bad.”
“To my knowledge, the transports are running. Alek already went this morning. He had classes. I know where to find him; we can take him a meal at midday.”
“Why do you need to go in?”
“I took these three weeks off from the initiative, but I do have a couple pressing things I need to clear up if I can.”
“All right, just let me get my coat.”
They dressed for the frigid temperatures and took the transport into the city. Once there, they boarded a hired carriage that took them to the university. It was a series of buildings on a large plot of land that in the spring and summer was ripe with fruit trees and green grass. Now it was covered with a thick coating of snow.
The university had always been a bright spot in the normally very classist society during the reign of the Edaeii family. Any child showing enough intellectual promise could be allowed in, even if they couldn’t afford to attend on their own, but the spots reserved for such students were extremely limited. Only the very brightest of lower class families ever made it. Gregorio Vikhin had been one of them, as had his sister. Mostly the population of students attending were like Alek and Byron, extremely wealthy.
