past few weeks how to properly please a man. And she discovered she loved it. It lit a strange fire in her. When he began to tense and twitch, she stroked and cupped him with her hands. He let out an obediently muffled roar, biting back a shout as he spasmed beneath her in his release.
She had become used to the heat of him. She loved it. She knew any other man wouldn’t hold up to him. No one could—no pun intended—hold a candle to him. Everyone would fall short of the man to whom she had nearly whispered words of love.
But he was right to stop her. It was too soon.
She licked him clean, careful not to abandon him too early in his throes. When he had finally quieted, she slid up his body again, kissing his throat. He met her lips with his, not caring for the act she had just done, and combed his hand through her hair. He tucked himself back into his pants and held her close. “My turn?” he whispered.
“Later.” She chuckled. “One voyeuristic act at a time.”
“Ease you in. Got it.” He let out a contented sigh. “Gods above, I love you.”
She smiled and kissed his cheek before nestling into his shoulder. She wouldn’t say the words yet. But she could think them. They were the truth.
I love you too, Nero.
They spent a few days at his villa on the beach before they had to return to the capital. It was their last day there. She was very sad to leave. She preferred it to the city, to be honest. But he couldn’t stay away from Rome for too long. The capital needed to be run in person, especially with the trouble that was brewing.
It was hard to imagine the man that was currently lying on the ground wrestling with his dogs was one anyone would want to assassinate. But she knew there were more sides to him than what she saw, more often than not. This side of him she basked in was a rarity. In fact, if Kema was to be believed, it was mostly a new development.
The man playing like a child with his dogs was also someone who was about to commit brutal murder in the name of holding on to his power. But if the South Wind’s aspect was transferred upon death—which seemed to be the case—then it was also required to keep his life. There was no retirement for the Cardinal of the South Wind. Not like Hugo, who could surrender his power and go live out the rest of his days quietly on an island. Even Viktor, the East Wind, could “retire” at any point.
But the South Wind was that way for life. She expected the North Wind was the same, but it had never once happened. Morten was already dead.
Brutus and Cassius were as sad to leave the beach as she was. Nero promised her a long return in a few more weeks once things quieted down in Rome and the voting sessions were over. The two big idiot dogs loved to bound around in the surf after sticks Nero would throw for them.
She wished they had stayed.
It was when they returned to his villa in the city that the trouble predictably began.
It was after dinner. They were sitting and chatting when a song came on the radio. “Oh, this is one of my favorites.” He leapt up from his chair and dragged her up to her feet. “Dance with me, Hope!”
“I—I can’t dance—”
“Pah. Come on.” He tugged her along to an open part of the floor. “I’ll teach you.”
“It’s not—it’s not slow—”
“It’s swing. It’s easy! One, two, one-two-three. One, two, one-two-three.” He was pulling her around, trying to convince her to follow his steps.
She was laughing, even as she was trying to swat him away from her. But he, in dancing, like in all other things, was impossibly stubborn. He wasn’t going to let her get out of this. Finally, she gave in and started feeling like she might understand a little of what he wanted her to do.
“Good! Like that. Yup—just put your right foot back on the second two. One, two, one-two-three. Perfect!”
“I’m terrible, this is awful.”
He laughed. “You’re doing great. Ready for a spin?”
“No—no, I’m not—” She squeaked as he did it anyway. He was so damn strong. He could lead her around the dance floor without trying, and she felt caught up in how inarguable he was. How unstoppable.
Her bracers