//CLARA//
The heat of him was still slick against my thigh. My lungs were burning, thinking the storm had finally passed.
I was wrong.
His fingers traced the sensitive skin of my inner thigh. Light. Fleeting. Teasing. The calloused pad of his thumb brushed upward, stopping just short of where I still ached for him. I bit my lip, my head falling back against the glass with a soft thud. The condensation from our earlier exertion had cooled against my spine.
Then he plunged two fingers inside .
My breath hitched, a sharp gasp escaping before I could contain it. His thumb found my clit, circling with a rhythm that made my hips jerk against his hand with each pass. The heel of his palm pressed down, adding pressure that seed to radiate through my entire body.
"Casimir—"
"Shh." He silenced with his lips grazing mine. "I am nowhere near done with you, little bird."
He fucked with his hand, relentless. His fingers curled inside , while his thumb worked my clit with rciless precision. He knew exactly where to press, exactly how to drive back toward the cliff I’d just crawled over.
My breath ca in sharp gasps, each exhale accompanied by a soft, broken sound I couldn’t control. I was spiraling again, the pressure building with each stroke of his fingers, each circle of his thumb.
Just as I felt myself reaching that edge, my thighs tensing, my fingers clawing at his shoulders—
He pulled his fingers out.
I whimpered at the loss, the sound embarrassingly needy. My hips chased his hand, seeking the friction that had been so cruelly denied. The absence of his touch left throbbing, empty, my body trembling on the precipice of release with nowhere to go.
Then he gripped my thighs, his large hands spanning almost their entire circumference and lifted .
"Casimir, what are you—"
The words left my mouth, my legs wrapped around his shoulders instinctively, my heels hooking behind his back as he stood.
The world tilted, my back sliding against the glass as he rose to his full height, suspending high from the ground. The condensation slick against my skin. My dress bunched around my waist.
His hands held steady, the pressure of his shoulders against the back of my legs, the way his breath ghosted over my most intimate flesh—every sensation seed amplified by my position, by the vulnerability of being held aloft, completely at his rcy.
"Hold on to ," he commanded.
I gripped his hair, my fingers tangling in the dark strands, pulling just enough to feel him growl against my thigh. I held on as if my life depended on it, my legs tightening around him, my body arching toward his mouth with desperate anticipation.
His mouth was on in an instant.
The first touch of his tongue was a slow, broad stroke from entrance to clit that made my entire body shudder. He licked through my folds, the wet heat of his mouth, the rough texture of his tongue against my most sensitive flesh—it was overwhelming, consuming, too much and not enough all at once.
He found a rhythm, his tongue circling my clit before dipping lower, fucking into with pointed strokes, then returning to that swollen bud with relentless pressure. The sound of him eating only heightened the depravity of what we were doing, where we were doing it.
My hips moved against his mouth, beyond my control, grinding down on his tongue with each stroke. My back sliding against the glass with each movent, held in place only by his shoulders supporting my weight, suspended between heaven and earth.
My body a live wire of sensation, every nerve ending focused on the point where his mouth t my flesh.
He moaned against , the vibration traveling through my clit, and I cried out, the sound echoing through the glass-enclosed space. I was close, so close, my thighs trembling around his head, my fingers white-knuckled in his hair, pulling, guiding, begging without words.
"Please," I gasped, the word breaking on my lips. "Please, Casimir—"
He didn’t stop. If anything, he beca more relentless, his tongue moving faster, pressing harder, circling my clit with rciless precision. His fingers dug into my thighs, holding exactly where he wanted , controlling my pleasure with devastating expertise.
I ca apart against his mouth, my orgasm crashing through in multiple waves, violent and all-consuming. My back arched away from the glass.
The muffled music from the Academy felt like a hallucination.
He didn’t stop, his tongue lapping at through each spasm, prolonging my pleasure until I was wrung out, limp, my legs sliding from his shoulders as he finally lowered down.
He caught , his arms wrapping around my waist, holding against him as I trembled in the aftermath.
My face pressed against his chest, I could hear his heart hamring, feel the ragged rise and fall of his breathing. The wool of his coat was rough against my cheek, the buttons pressing into my skin, and I clung to him, grounding myself in the solid reality of his body.
My dress was ruined, I realized, the silk crushed and stained, the skirts still bunched around my waist. I would have to walk back through the Academy like this, or find so way to make myself presentable.
Casimir’s hand moved to my hair, his fingers untangled the knots his own hands had created, smoothing the strands with surprising gentleness.
"You’re thinking too loud."
"I was thinking about how I’m going to explain this dress to anyone who sees ," I said, finding myself steadier than I felt. "You paid for it, after all. Perhaps you should explain why it looks like it’s been through a war."
He laughed. It sounded genuine, rumbling deeply through his chest against my cheek.
"I’ll drown you in silk if it ans I can ruin every single one."
I pulled back enough to look at him, to see the dark hunger still smoldering in his eyes. He looked younger like this, stripped of the rigid control he maintained in public, revealed as the man who had just held aloft and devoured without rcy.
"I need to fix my dress," I said, the practical intrusion of reality forcing its way through the haze of satisfaction. "And we need to return before we’re missed. Aunt Cornelia—"
"Is still in her luxury box," Casimir interrupted, his jaw tightening.
He released slowly, his hands trailing down my arms as if reluctant to break the heat. Then he bent down, and I watched as he gently rolled my stockings back up my legs. He fumbled with the garter for a mont and fastened the clasp.
"Stay still."
He adjusted the seams until they were perfect and stood.
"Turn around," he said softly. "I’ll fasten what I can."
I obeyed, presenting my back to him, and felt his fingers working at the buttons and hooks of my dress, restoring order to what he had so thoroughly undone. His touch was efficient now, though I could feel the restraint in it, the effort it took not to let his hands wander as they had before.
"There," he said finally, stepping back. "You’ll pass inspection in dim lighting. Though anyone who looks closely will see what we’ve been doing written all over you."
I turned to face him, running my fingers through my hair in a futile attempt to smooth it.
"And you? You look—"
"Like a man who has just had the only thing he’s wanted," he finished, adjusting his coat with a sharp tug.
He offered his arm, all polite and proper, as if I had not just been wrapped around his shoulders with my stockings around my ankles. I placed my hand in the crook of his elbow and let him lead back to reality.
The night air struck cool against my flushed skin as we erged, the sounds of the Academy swelling around us. Monts later, we were back at the box. Casimir tucked into my seat next to Mrs. Bauer, then glided in beside Adelaide like nothing had happened.
I, on the other hand, felt like I was glowing in the dark.
Aunt Cornelia noticed. Her head turned, and her eyes landed on with the weight of a guillotine.
"Where have you been?" she hissed through the swelling orchestra.
"I needed air," I lied. "Casimir caught up with before I could wander off too far."
She shook her head slowly, disappointnt carved into the expression she had spent decades perfecting.
"One night, Eleanor. One night. That’s all I asked from you."
If only you knew, I thought. But I said nothing.
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