A Lesson in Thorns (Thornchapel #1)(38)

“A pane shattered in one of the windows,” he confirms, ruffling his hair to knock out the ice. “I found a big square of chipboard to lean against it, that should keep the worst of the sleet out for now. I’ll tell my uncle, and he can take care of it when they come back Monday—but in the meantime, everyone should be careful walking through there.”

Auden’s hand on my arm doesn’t move, but his entire focus is on Saint. “Thank you,” he says politely. Maybe even a little gratefully, as if he hadn’t thought Saint capable of enough courtesy to put a board over a broken window.

Saint just nods.

“Well, I don’t think anyone is going to beat the glass-shattering kiss, but there are still more turns to go,” Delphine the Kissing Czar declares. “It’s Rebecca’s turn now.”

Auden squeezes my arm and lets go.

“That was nice,” I say, trying to keep a grip on all the feelings threatening to quaver through my voice. “Thank you.”

Auden doesn’t answer verbally, but he gives me a pained smile. No dimples, only the asymmetrical tilt to his upper lip. His eyes are no longer windows, but doors and mysteries and gates that I’ll never unlock.

That privilege belongs to someone else.

I get settled right as Rebecca spins the bottle. Saint’s sat on the floor too, and I can see the leftover sleet still in his hair, sparkling in the light like a strange frozen crown. I’m so intrigued by it that I don’t notice when the bottle lands on me. Again.

The room breaks into laughter.

“This is Poe’s lucky night!” Delphine chirps, and strangely, she almost sounds like she’s forcing her cheer this time. More so than when her fiancé’s erection was pressing against my stomach and he was sighing into my mouth.

Rebecca stands and walks over to me, extending a hand, which I take. When I’m on my feet, she leans in and whispers, “Are you up for a little kink?”

Oh God, yes, yes, that sounds like the absolute best idea after that wrenching, confusing kiss. I’m wet and flushed and horny, and I’ve drunk enough to be brave, and I’m sober enough to consent.

“Yes,” I say. “I’m yours.”

Hot approval flashes through her dark eyes. “That’s what I like to hear,” she replies in a voice a little huskier than normal. And to everyone else she says, “I told you I was going to play my way. I’m going to make Poe earn her kiss.”

I can tell by the way Delphine tilts her head that she has no idea what Rebecca means, but a new interest thrums through the others, a new kind of silence. This was already a dangerous game, but Rebecca’s just raised the stakes.

Rebecca quickly appraises the scene and what she has to work with—honestly, not much, unless she wants to whale on my ass with a book, which I’d only object to for the sake of the books. Their fragile leather bindings wouldn’t do well with the repeated blows, I think.

Rebecca seems to make up her mind about something. “Okay, your safeword is Thornchapel. I want you to lay over Auden’s lap—”

“What?” I blurt out at the same time Auden goes, “Rebecca—”

Rebecca points a finger at all of us. “I didn’t finish. Poe, I want you to lay over Auden’s lap so that he can hold down your legs—and press down on your upper back to keep you from squirming, if need be.”

It’s easy to see why she chose Auden—he’s the only one situated in the middle of a sofa. Delphine is sitting on the arm of the same sofa, Becket’s in a chair, Saint’s on the floor. It’s not like there’s a handy coil of rope on the floor for restraints. Auden and I look at each other, and I think we feel the same mutual panic—like we both realize what we shared during our kiss is best left alone, best kept in a box somewhere without air or light. Something best starved and not fed.

And I fail to see how me wriggling in his lap as Rebecca dominates me is not going to feed it.

But the Kissing Czar is suddenly delighted by this turn of events. Maybe it’s the novelty? Maybe she has a secret fetish for seeing Auden with other people, like a compersion thing? Who knows, but she’s up and tugging me over to the sofa before I have time to figure it out.

“Auden, move back a little so she has plenty of room,” Delphine chides, and then moves some throw pillows out of my way so I can lie down. I look at Auden one last time, and he’s searching my face.

“Is this okay with you?” he asks.

“Is it okay with you?”

He closes his eyes once, briefly and with torment.

“Yes,” he admits.

And I think I might die at that one word.

“Then yes, it’s okay with me,” I say. “I’m not safe-ing out.” That last part is meant for Rebecca.

She nods with that preternaturally knowledgeable look most Dominants have. “I know. Now get up there.”

I’ve draped myself over Auden’s lap in so many waking and sleeping dreams that it almost feels familiar, like I’m remembering it instead of doing it, but I know that’s not right. I know this is the first time because every detail is so painfully crisp, like this moment is reaching into my mind and etching itself there. There’s the heat of the fire tickling my shoeless feet, the cooler air of the cavernous library against my face. There’s the sound of sleet on the glass, of someone else in the room shifting to get comfortable, the almost-silent exhales from Auden as he tries to control his breathing.