Page 30 of A Taste for the Peculiar

“What we do here tonight will be uncommon.” The dark shade of Cascade’s eyes holds more than Avirin expected, desire tinged with a softness she cannot name. Perhaps pity. Perhaps kindness. Perhaps something sweeter. “This will not be something you find with just any husband.”

Avirin senses Lord Riften behind her. Neither of them speak.

“I hope you will hold onto what we do here.” Cascade brushes a curl behind Avirin’s ear. “I hope you will remind yourself of the way you feel. I hope you will look for it in your marriage bed.”

Her gaze flits behind Avirin, and when it returns, her eyes surge with an almost-sadness before she eases forward.

Avirin gasps against the swell of Cascade’s lips. Her mind thrums with everything she has been taught. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. The words are a hammer pummeling her back into place, trying to force her back inside the acceptable mold…but her curious desire overflows, dripping outside the confines she knows.

Want unfurls inside Avirin like a flower, a bud long-buried now desperately seeking the sun. It blossoms into forbidden fruit that splits open on the vine, and Avirin wants to bury her mouth in its flesh and drink its juices until they run down her neck.

Cascade sees that light in Avirin’s eyes. When she smiles, she digs her teeth into Avirin’s lip and sucks like she can taste that ripe, ready fruit on her tongue.

FIFTEEN

Pye

Cascade kisses Avirin slowly. Their mouths melt together like wax, the sound of their breaths rising and falling above the party below. Pye can’t tear his eyes away. Of all the things he and Avirin have done, they’ve never kissed. Not quite. It seems so simple after everything else, but that doesn’t mean Pye wants it any less. With every passing lesson, the desire for it grows so strong that he can hardly stand it. He needs to know what little noises she makes, how their bodies slot together, exactly how her mouth tastes.

That overwhelming need is exactly why he can never find out. Because one kiss would not be enough. Because it would kill him to do it once and never again.

Cascade knows it, too. In the midst of her kiss, her eyes flutter open to catch Pye staring. She takes Avirin’s face into her hands and dives deeper, and Avirin makes a sound that strikes lightning in Pye’s stomach.

He still doesn’t move.

Cascade’s eyes narrow. He knows what she’s thinking. She said as much three nights ago when he asked if she would provide Avirin with this final lesson.

You’re asking me to bed the woman you’re in love with? You’re a fool.

Pye swallows. They’ve never said the word “love.” They didn’t deny it either, and that’s damning enough. That’s why Cascade spent all evening trying to push Pye toward what they so desperately want, but they can’t cross that line. It has to be Cascade to guide Avirin through this while Pye is fortunate enough to witness.

That has to be enough.

Finally, Cascade pulls away from Avirin, lips swollen and shiny. “A husband should undress you,” Cascade breathes and turns her gaze toward Pye. “Help me with it.”

She’s prodding again. Pye sets their jaw and steps forward to undo the closures on the back of Avirin’s dress. They take their time with it, reckless as that is, basking in the swath of Avirin’s skin that appears in the warm light.

Cascade lifts Avirin’s skirt to slip her hand beneath it, and the whine Avirin makes shoots straight to Pye’s cock. She leans back against him, and Cascade keeps teasing her with a husky hum. “Do you always get this wet from playing cards?”

Avirin can’t answer. Pye can’t breathe. With the bare skin of her back pressed to their chest, their fingers flex and curl in the fabric of her dress. They have to restrain themselves — but then Cascade lifts her hand over Avirin’s shoulder and holds out two glistening fingers.

Pye tenses. It’s an offer they shouldn’t take, but they’ve denied themself so much already. There will be more before this night is over. His eyes lock with Cascade’s, and he leans forward to take one of her fingers into his mouth.

It’s impossible not to groan at the taste of Avirin. He remembers it from the pleasure gardens and every night since when he’s dreamt of feasting between her legs. She tastes like pollen from the center of a flower, geodes thrumming with magic, earthy and potent and unmistakably her.

Cascade takes her second finger into her mouth, and Avirin watches them both with baited breath. With the candlelight behind her, Pye can make out her profile in exquisite detail. The curling tendrils of her hair. The slope of her nose. The full curve of her cheek.

When Cascade pulls away, Pye can’t help themself. They try to keep their distance, they do, but every part of Avirin calls to them. They trail their fingers down the opening in the back of her dress, following her spine to the small of her back.

She sucks in a breath. Pye can see it all: her lips parting, throat contracting, eyelashes fluttering. He wants to kiss her. He wants to feel her move under him. He wants the heat of her mouth, the softness of her tongue, the sound of her moans.

Her final piece of clothing falls away. Pye won’t let themself look at her bare body — not yet. “Is this still what you want?” they whisper.

Heat radiates from her when she nods. Pye turns away, collecting her clothing and draping it over the back of a chair. He will need all of his strength to face her now. He takes a steadying breath and turns back to her, but even that does nothing to prepare them for the sight that awaits them. He has pictured her like this time and again, but the reality is more than he could ever conjure.

Avirin is draped in nothing but candlelight. Her body looks impossibly softer, the curves of her hips and stomach and thighs tempting Pye toward her. They can’t tear their gaze away. They want to run their hands over the bounty of her body, to grip her hips, to watch every ripple —

“Aren’t you a vision?” Cascade murmurs.