48. Flirtation

Flirtation

I 'd like to court you. It sounded so old-fashioned, the sort of thing someone would say in a Jane Austen novel, where handsome lords took notice of impoverished ladies. But this was that kind of world, wasn't it? The fae King looking up at me with soft eyes didn't give a shit that I'd grown up poor. He'd grown up poor, too, and now he could give me the world.

"I've never been courted before," I said, sounding way too shy. I cleared my throat, looking away, my teeth worrying my lower lip for a moment in an anxious gesture. "I don't…" I glanced back at him, at his hopeful expression and gentle focus. "What does that look like?"

He reached over and clinked his glass against mine, like a toast. "Me taking you beautiful places, and feeding you excellent food, or perhaps being taken there in return," he said. The corners of his eyes crinkled. "Star-clad evenings that end in kisses and the longing for more. Invitations. Dances. Gifts, flowers, yearning…" Cass settled a little closer to me and brushed the backs of his fingers along my shin.

I made a tiny sound of protest, and took a swig of champagne to settle myself.

He flashed me an impish smile, his dimple showing. "I know you'd be willing to forego the courtly dance, but I've never truly gotten the chance to court, or to be courted." Cass shrugged, looking rueful. "I want to move slowly enough that when I step closer to you I won't be afraid it's a step too far, and I'd like to give you chances when you're not caught up with me to decide that you really do want us to take another step closer." His ears dropped and he blushed. "I'd like to decide that, too," he said shyly, looking up at me with his naked heart on display.

"You want wooing," I said, starting to smile. "Rose-petal romance."

Cass blushed harder, his embarrassment warming my cheeks, and nodded.

"Well, okay." I sprawled back against the side of the natural pool and grinned back at him. "Most of my relationships have been pretty utilitarian, but that wasn't really on purpose. If you like candlelit dinners and long walks at sunset, let's do that. I 'm happy to plan more dates. I really like spending time with you like this."

His ears lifted. The silver chains swung, catching the sunlight. "Truly?"

I reached out with one foot and nudged him on the ribs with my toes. The warmth of his regard rivaled the heat of the springs, radiating through me like I'd downed a mug of hot coffee. "Truly," I said, smiling at him. "There's no reason to spend all our time working. We both want to land in an affectionate balance, so let's see if we like the romance. Isn't that the whole point of dating?"

"Are you alright with going slowly?" he asked. "Physically, I mean?" His hand wrapped around my foot, holding my sole against his ribs.

Fuck, that felt nice. I loved how much bigger than me he was. How strong he was, and the way that strength was never, ever turned against me.

"Cassie," I crooned, to feel the little shiver of pleasure he always made when I used diminutive names for him. "I was pushy about platonic touch because I can feel how desperate you are for it, and it was making me crazy. And I'll admit, I can be pretty demanding between the sheets," I added, giving him a reckless smile. "But that's only once the rules of engagement have been agreed upon, so to speak. If you want to go slow, we'll go slow."

One corner of his mouth kicked up. His thumb started rubbing slow circles on the arch of my foot. "I like demanding. And pushy."

With a low hum of pleasure, I relaxed into his touch, letting his pleasure and the warmth of the hot springs ease away every scrap of tension. "Then you won't be distressed to learn you just signed yourself up for giving me a foot massage, hm?" I gave him another nudge with my toes.

Cass took a sip of his champagne and set it to the side before moving to lounge on his side, not letting go of my foot. "Why would that distress me, my Queen?" he asked in a low purr. "Especially when it means I get to feel your pleasure like it's mine?" He took my foot in both hands and started spreading my arch with his thumbs, using the perfect amount of force.

I let out a low moan of enjoyment, tipping my head back. "Fuck, Cass," I said, my voice throaty. The answering pleasure of his enjoyment coiled through me, hot and needy, amping up my own tactile enjoyment. "You've been holding out on me."

"I have," he said in an agreeable tone. "On a number of levels, actually. But you were quite insistent that I learn how to do friendly platonic touch without leaning into my power to control my reactions to it, and perhaps I ought to try to do the same with romantic touch." His hand wrapped around my foot, warm and sure, and squeezed.

"Foot massages don't have to be romantic," I said, panting from the positive feedback loop of pleasure between us. "People pay good money for this."

He dragged his eyes up along my lean leg to the apex of my thighs, gaze lingering on my dark triangle of hair, then up my midline to my breasts. Cass lowered his lashes and licked his lips.

I felt that as if he'd put his tongue on my mouth.

"You're naked, lioness," he purred. His eyes flicked up to mine. "And I'm wearing nothing but jewelry."

"Nothing but earrings, even." I tried to breathe normally, as if my entire focus wasn't on the big hands engulfing my foot or the desire of my soulmate taking residence in my core.

He only smirked, with the pleasure of a cat who'd gotten into the songbird's cage.

Oh, my god. He was fucking naked . If he was wearing more than earrings as decoration, there was only one other place it could be.

Did… oh my fucking god, did Cass have a fucking dick piercing ?

"We've cuddled," I pointed out, somewhat desperately. "Isn't that at least a little romantic?"

He slid his thumbs down along my arch, eliciting a whine I couldn't catch in time. "Cuddling would be romantic paired with those lovely dark nipples under my fingers. Perhaps as I kiss your neck and tell you how wonderful you are."

" Cass ," I whined in protest. "You said slow ."

"It's only words, dove," he said, with that same purring satisfaction. "Are words having too much of a…" His eyes dragged down my bare leg again. "…physical effect?"

I gave him a stern frown and shoved him in the chest with my foot. "You know exactly what you're doing to me, ?ng già," I said, lifting my chin to look down my nose at him, though the corners of my mouth twitched with good humor at the wickedness shining in his eyes. "Don't play stupid."