Page 121 of The Court of Venus

“Yes,” he agreed. “I am. And I’d like to show you something, so you never doubt it.”

It was a memory. His memory of last night. I stared down at myself, wide-eyed under him. He was wringing out my gasps. He was going to come unless he reined himself in. It was too good, far too good. He nearly lost all sense once he saw his thumb in my mouth. It was too good, too good, too good—Perhaps the planets did carve two halves that fit together like this. Perhaps he had been gifted with reading pleasure so he could read mine. When I moaned into his ear, he could not believe he was the reason for it. I wrapped my thighs tighter around him, and he was going to—

I hid under my arm, blushing furiously, my face hot.

He kissed my nape.

I was not sated anymore. I had a new aim: to give him what he gave to me. “You’ll have to tell me what you like, Lord Chancellor,” I murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “As I cannot see it in your mind.”

I trailed my lips down his collarbone, his chest, along his tapered hips.

“No one has ever asked me that before,” he said.

“Truly?”

“I was attentive to—” His eyes widened, his head fell back. “—to their needs. Not my own.” He let out a low groan. “That’s good. That’s so good. Just like that.”

The sounds I drew from him made my blush deepen. I flicked my tongue against him. “Bianca,” he pleaded. “Do that again. A little faster.”

Another stroke of my tongue. I kissed down his length, used my hand and my mouth in tandem. I let him move as he wished to, then, and his gasps became more strained. When he filled my mouth, I swallowed and licked my lips, eyes locked on his.

He hauled me into his arms, wrapping a thigh around my waist and nibbling my earlobe. “I’ve decided you are never going to leave this bed. I forbid it. It’s my very first law since I’ve been reinstated as lord chancellor.”

“You’ll need the king’s signature.”

An arrogant shrug. “Then I’ll get it.”

I twisted in his arms, so we were face-to-face. When I opened my mouth for him, his tongue swept in, meeting mine. The birds began chirping, welcoming the day. There were no Guildfords plotting. Not anymore.

I smoothed his hair back. “Roland.”

“Sweetheart.”

“Not Mouse?”

“Mmm.” He sighed contentedly, his eyes fluttering shut. “You’ll always be a mouse to me.”

“Explain exaltation again.”

He sighed, tracing a circle around my breast. “For someone so sharp, you’ve been surprisingly blind. I—” He drew his star sign above my navel. The circle and the bull horns. “—am a Taurus.”

Sensual. Obstinate. His entire life spent pursuing pleasure and comfort. Yes, he was.

“The Moon—you—is exalted in Taurus. Just as Venus is in Pisces, Philippe’s sign. And so, my theory is when a magician is with someone with whom they feel love and support, when they can expand, so to speak, their magic does exactly that. They change. It is as if you are meant to be with me.”

“‘We can be anything if we are found by the right person,’” I recited. He closed his eyes as I stroked his hair back. I frowned suddenly. “But I do not exalt you in turn.”

“I don’t mind. What—do you think I want Marguerite’s power?”

“Hmm. Prospero never would have guessed this was the answer. He thought we despised each other.”

“I doubt he thought you despised me. All your staring, and your—”

I rolled my eyes. Made to press my palm against his mouth again, but he caught it first.

“Prospero knows all,” murmured Roland. He lazily toyed with my fingers, transferring his rings to them. He liked to see his things on me. “Not all, it seems. Will you write an addendum to The Celestial Bodies?”

I shook my head. “I worry there is a reason why no one has written about exaltation. What if it is because it is too dangerous, too unpredictable? What if it is not the only way a magician’s magic can change?”