The Myths of Ophelia (The Curse of Ophelia #4)

Chapter 44

Chapter Forty-Four

Ophelia

“You know they have their own agenda tonight, right?” Tolek whispered, nodding after Malakai and Mila.

“Definitely,” I said. “But they’re also here to help, so if they want to keep a secret, that’s okay.”

Tolek nodded. “How are we splitting up?”

“You two go ahead,” Santorina said to Tolek and me. “It’ll be easiest for you to pass as a couple looking for a bit of fun if none of us are trailing after you.”

“I’m going to go on my own,” Lyria said. “See you all outside.” And she flounced down the darkest corridor, her steps nearly inaudible.

Jezebel pointed to one of the remaining halls. “We’ll take this one, you go that way.”

“Be smart,” I told her, but she merely rolled her eyes and walked away, Rina laughing as she followed.

And with that dismissal, Tolek and I strode down the final corridor, the moans and gasps through the walls certainly living up to the establishment’s name. My skin heated with every door we passed, knowing what was happening beyond these doors, feelings Tolek’s body brush up against mine at every turn. The allure in the air was thick and hard to ignore, but I tried to listen for the poetic tones of Storytellers.

“What do you say we make this task a bit more fun?” Tolek asked, voice gravelly.

I blinked up at him. “How so?”

“Up for a game, Alabath?” And the smirk he gave me was pure evil.

Tolek pulled me through the nearest archway, into a room of writhing bodies. A whirl of ornate, woven tapestries and low-sitting divans were scattered about as he pushed me up against a waist-high partition. The edge of the wood dug into my spine, but since it was in the center of the room, it gave us the perfect sightline to see who was speaking with whom. If any crowds gathered.

“What’s the game?” I asked, hands crawling up Tol’s chest as he surveyed the employees of the Madame with keen observation. A blur passed through the corner of my eye, piquing my attention. Whoever it was seemed familiar, but they were gone too quickly to know for certain.

“See if you hear what you need,” Tol murmured, ducking to kiss my neck, “while I take care of our disguise.”

I dug my fingers into his hair, behaving like a lust-drunk young girl here for solely one thing. Tol lifted his head, brushing my hair back from my face. A shimmer of mystlight fell across his defined features, darkening the shadow of scruff along his jaw and highlighting his lips.

Who was I pretending to fool? I was entirely enamored with Tolek Vincienzo regardless of where we were. We didn’t need to put on an act to play his little game.

“CK would have hated this,” Tolek commented.

I scoffed, pushing at his chest. “Are you truly thinking about Cyph right now?”

“Should I not be?”

“How would you feel if I was?”

Tol’s eyes darkened, and he stepped closer, wedging one leg between mine so he pressed against my center, and I gasped. He nipped at my ear. “I would be forced to bury my best friend if he was on your mind right now, Alabath.” As a very clear sign, he dragged his teeth up my neck, biting.

A moan vibrated up my throat.

“Hear anything?” he muttered in my ear.

I thought past the throbbing in my core and quickening of my breath. Swept my gaze across the room of couples lost in one another. “No,” I whispered.

Tol kept up his game.

“I only mentioned CK,” Tolek muttered, voice rough, “because his mother used to work in a brothel. Decades before he was born.”

“I didn’t know that,” I said.

“He didn’t either for a while, but I think that’s why he was so touchy about not wanting to come here tonight.”

“Interesting.” I tucked away that observance and dropped my head back to give him access to my neck. “I don’t hear or see anyone that looks like a Storyteller.”

“On we go,” Tolek said, grabbing my hips and turning me. He walked me backward beneath the arch and across the corridor into another room. All the while, a ravenous heat ignited those amber specks in his eyes.

“We probably don’t have to pretend to be patrons while looking, you know,” I muttered, but the words were breathy.

“Not pretending, Revered,” he said, and my title on his lips sent a wave of heat through me. I shoved him against the nearest wall, the tapestry behind him fluttering with the motion. A grin split his lips, and he kissed me roughly as if to say two can be aggressive, Alabath . Leave it to Tolek to turn this into a game, too.

He spun me so I leaned against his chest, brushing my hair over one shoulder, and goosebumps peppered my skin. “Besides,” he whispered as he pressed slow kisses to my neck, his scruff a bristly drag that I felt in my core, “it’s so much more fun to get to tease you in public. In view of so many. Let them know you’re mine.” His hands roved over my body. “Find your Storytellers. I’ll be here.”

I observed the room, trying my hardest not to get lost to the desire building within me. There were even more couples in here than in the last room. A few were groups of multiple people. Three or even four, all moving harmoniously in the combination of dancing, scarf-tampered mystlight and firelight.

One man lay on his back, a woman sinking down on his length again and again, and a second man pushing into her from behind at the same time. From here, with so much flesh on display and equal moans of pleasure leaving all three of them, it was impossible to tell which one—or two—belonged to the Madame and who was the patron.

I wanted to feel Tol’s body against my own, wanted our leathers gone. I pressed back against him.

Tolek’s breath was hot against my neck as he asked, “See something that interests you, Alabath?”

Their bodies continued to writhe in a synchronous rhythm, lips clamping around breasts, hands exploring as Tol’s crept around me and dipped beneath the hem of my skirt. His hard length jutted into my back, and his fingers…Spirits, he teased the edge of my undergarments. A shiver wracked my body, and I imagined what he’d do if he flipped up my leather skirt, bent me over the couch, and claimed me right here.

I gasped, some combination of watching what was happening in this very room and feeling Tol against me sending an ache straight to my core.

Angels, what was this place doing to me? Need clawed at me. Right here, even in a room full of people.

I tilted my head back against his shoulder, catching his lips in a sensual kiss, and ground my ass against him. One hand cupped my jaw as Tolek groaned, tongue commanding mine with all the power and strength that he was.

“I’m curious, yes,” I whispered, breathing heavily as we broke apart. “But I don’t like to share.”

“Me neither.” He smirked, kissing me again. “I think we should keep going.”

“Keep going?” I asked and rocked back against him.

Tolek laughed. “Not like that.”

I pouted, but he nipped my ear, murmuring, “We’re gaining an audience, apeagna .”

Blinking away the lust that had formed a senseless haze around me, I noticed a man standing across the room, leaning casually against the wall beside one of many flickering fires, his eyes hungry as he watched Tolek’s hands on me.

We’re not here for this , I reminded myself, though truthfully all I wanted was for Tolek to spin me around right now and take me up against that wall with punishing force. I bit my lip at the thought, heat gathering between my legs.

As if reading my lascivious thoughts, Tol groaned. “Alabath.” Gripping my hips, he turned me to face him, kissing me so hard I thought I’d see stars from that alone. When he broke away, panting, he said, “Don’t fucking tempt me.”

“But it’s so fun,” I said breathlessly, the roles reversed from his earlier taunting.

“I’ll show you fun when we get out of here.”

I was about to respond, but a melodic voice drifted from the other room.

“Gather, children,” it said, and notes of a legend poured through the wide doorway.

Tolek froze, too, head cocked.

“That voice,” he muttered. And then, he was pulling me through the door, my boots scuffing over the piles of chiffon trailing across the floor in the spacious room, cushions and tapestries overflowing onto every surface, comfort fit for a veritable den of proclivities.

Tolek stopped before the biggest divan, a circular, turquoise velvet cushion large enough to hold four bodies.

It only hosted three currently, though. Two of which were very intimately involved, but the third sat with her legs crossed at the round edge nearest us. A small gaggle of warriors lounged on the floor before her as she spoke, utterly entranced with her words.

Tolek sliced right through her sentence. “What are you doing here?”

“You know her?” I asked, gaping up at him as something hot roared in my gut. “Spirits, Vincienzo, I don’t think I want to know?—”

“Not the way you’re thinking, Alabath.” His hand tightened on mine, but his eyes remained locked on the woman on the divan.

And it was then that I followed his stare. That I traced up her bare feet and legs, the gold jewelry adorning them. Right up the lilac and brown chiffon scarves that wrapped around her hips and breasts.

Those long, willowy limbs were…familiar. The dark hair spilling around her shoulders, the tenor of her voice…

“I saw her once,” Tolek explained, “at an inn we stayed at in Bodymelder Territory, on our way to Firebird’s Field. She was telling a story about a prince who sacrificed himself for his kingdom.” He blinked as if the thought was scattering.

The Storyteller’s dark eyes met mine, and a memory came crashing back to me. Not in Bodymelder Territory…no, I had not seen the Storyteller there.

But I had seen this woman once before. In a different inn, many miles away across the mountains, on my way to rescue the man now standing with his hand locked in mine.

“Aimee?”

She gave me a bold grin. “It’s lovely to see you again, Revered.”