10. Simone

Auguste guides me up the narrow staircase, the heavy tread of his boots echoing off the walls. The wood is dark and worn beneath my hand, polished by the passage of countless souls seeking solace or sin in the rooms above.

We emerge into his private sanctum, and I”m instantly entranced. The room is a treasure trove, every surface layered with exotic curios and strange artifacts. Tattered maps and faded daguerreotypes adorn the walls, hinting at adventures past. Jewel-toned Persian rugs sprawl across the floor, their patterns dizzyingly intricate. Everywhere I turn, my eyes catch on something marvelous - a brass astrolabe, a carved ivory tusk, a frayed scrap of brocaded silk.

It”s as if Auguste has built himself a nest woven from stolen souvenirs of the world beyond New Orleans. Each piece whispers of far-off lands and daring exploits, of a life lived in defiance of boundaries and constraints.

I trail my fingers reverently along the edge of a lacquered side table, marveling at the play of light over its glossy surface. ”These are incredible,” I breathe. ”Where did you find them all?”

Auguste”s eyes are soft as they meet mine, his lips quirked in a wistful half-smile.

”Everywhere and nowhere, chere. When you”ve lived as long as I have, you become a magpie, collecting glittering fragments to line your bower.”

”We”re cursed, you know,” he murmured, his breath a feather-light caress against her cheek. ”Destined to remain in New Orleans, tethered to her shadows and secrets.”

Simone turned to him, her violet eyes searching his face. ”But why? Surely there must be a way to break free?”

A wry smile tugged at the corner of his sensual mouth. ”If there is, I haven”t found it. Not for lack of trying.” He brushes a tumble of raven curls back from my shoulder, his thumb grazing my rapidly fluttering pulse at the base of my throat.

”We are both caged birds, you and I,” he murmurs, coming up behind me. ”Cursed to remain in this haunted city, bound by the sins of our fathers.”

I turn to face him, my breath catching at the intensity in his golden eyes. ”Then we must make a paradise of our prison,” I whisper.

The earthy scent of his skin floods my senses, awakening something wild within me.

”What are you going to do to me?” I whisper, both aroused and unnerved by the intensity.

His calloused hand cups my cheek and I lean into his touch, eyelids fluttering closed.

When his lips meet mine, heat rushes through my veins. I open for him and our tongues dance, passion rising swift and fierce. ”Claiming what”s mine,” he growls against my lips.

Candlelight plays over the rumpled silk coverlet as he lays me down, never breaking our kiss.

His bitterness is a living thing, throbbing between us. I want to soothe it, to draw out the poison and leave only sweetness behind. Rising on my tiptoes, I capture his lips with my own, my tongue flicking out to taste the hint of whiskey and smoke.

He groans into my mouth. The counterpane is slippery beneath me as I fall back onto the mattress, Auguste following me down. Our mouths slide together, wet and messy and desperate, as we work to rid each other of clothes suddenly too confining.

I gasp as his lips close over the sensitive skin of my throat, his teeth nipping and tongue laving. Fire sizzles through my veins, and I arch up into him, needing more contact, more friction. He”s everywhere - kissing, licking, stroking - until I”m mindless with sensation.

He slides one hand down my thigh, hitching it up around his hip and pulling me closer. I can feel the heat of him through our clothes, and I writhe against him, desperate for more contact.

His fingers find the buttons on the back of my dress, slowly undoing them one by one. His lips never leave mine as he works, his tongue tracing the curve of my lower lip as I gasp at the sensation of cool air against my bare skin.

Finally, the dress falls away, pooling at my feet like a dark cloud. I stand before him in my undergarments, feeling vulnerable and exposed but also incredibly alive. His eyes rake over my body, devouring every inch of me with his gaze.

”You”re even more beautiful than I imagined,” he whispers, his voice ragged with desire.

He reaches out to trace a finger along the edge of my corset, lingering on the laces that bind me. I shiver at his touch, my body aching for him. Without a word, he begins to undo the laces, loosening the corset until it falls away, leaving me in nothing but my chemise.

Auguste”s hands are on me again, caressing and exploring every inch of my exposed skin.

He slides one hand up to cup my breast, his thumb rubbing circles around my nipple until it pebbles beneath the thin fabric of my chemise. I moan at the sensation, my hips rocking against him as I seek delicious friction.

His mouth follows his hands, trailing kisses down my neck and over my collarbone. I tip my head back, giving him better access, as he licks and nips at my skin. His hand slides down my stomach, reaching the waistband of my pantaloons. He tugs them down, leaving me completely bare before him.

Auguste stands, staring at me for a moment, his golden eyes blazing with desire. Then, without a word, he strips off his own clothes, his movements quick and efficient. He stands before me, naked and proud, his body a testament to the years of passion and adventure that have shaped him.

He pulls me close, his hands gripping my hips as he lifts me up onto the bed. I gasp as he follows me down, his hardness pressing against my heat as I wrap my legs around his hips.

When he finally sheaths himself inside me, I cry out, my nails scoring his back. Our bodies move in perfect synchronicity, finding that age-old rhythm. Faster and harder, sweat-slicked skin and panting breaths, until ecstasy breaks over me in a crashing wave.

I lose myself in sensation - his wicked mouth mapping every curve and hollow, talented fingers stroking secret places, silky hair tickling my breasts. He claims me with lips and teeth and tongue until I am writhing beneath him, pleasure coiling tighter and tighter.

His fingers dig into my hips as he thrusts into me, each stroke driving me closer to the edge of ecstasy. Our bodies move in perfect sync, our hearts pounding in time with each other”s. I can feel myself teetering on the brink, my body trembling with pleasure.

”Auguste,” I gasp, my fingernails digging into his shoulders as I cling to him.

”Let go, chere,” he growls, his lips finding mine in a fierce kiss. ”I”ve got you.”

His words push me over the edge, and I shatter around him, my orgasm crashing through me like a wave. I cry out, my back arching off the bed as I convulse with pleasure.

His thrusts become more urgent, his hips snapping against mine as he drives deeper and deeper inside me. I can feel him swelling within me, the heat of his release building inside him.

There”s no gentleness in his touch, only the raw need to possess and claim.

”Mine,” he growls, his eyes burning with golden fire.

With a final, powerful push, Auguste reaches his peak, his release pulsing deep within me. The feeling of him filling me up, his hot seed spilling into me, is indescribable. It”s like a wave of warmth and pleasure that radiates out from my core, making me shiver with delight.

Release once more crashes through me, my pleasure peaking and breaking like a wave against the shore. Auguste follows me over, his climax a guttural cry muffled against the curve of my shoulder.

We lay entwined as our breathing slows, basking in the afterglow. He presses tender kisses to my hairline, his hands drifting over my back in soothing strokes. In this moment, the future is hazy and hope wavers like a mirage.

But with his arms banded tight around me, I can almost believe that everything will be alright.