Page 30 of A Reckless Indulgence

“Have you forgotten it?” His tail curls pointedly around her ankle, spikes teasing up her calf. “Have you moved on?”

The question burrows under her skin. She tries to convince herself that Cav doesn’t know the truth. That he can’t see through her. That he can’t tell how she’s revisited their last hour together a thousand times. That she replays it to get her through any emotion: anger, sadness, desperation.

She can’t tell him any of that. She can hardly tell herself. Being impaired makes her venomous, a cornered creature lashing out. Her voice makes a mockery of him. “The only thing I remember is how pathetic you were. Too sick to stand. Washed ashore like a piece of driftwood.”

Her knees threaten to give when he laughs against her hair. “Do you grind yourself against every piece of driftwood you come across, or was I just special?”

THIRTEEN

Cav

Cav knows Lyx remembers that final night. She has to, because it’s consumed Cav for the last two years. It doesn’t matter that they barely touched; the memory stays buried in the back of his mind, like seeds that never got a chance to grow. He’s craved to see them bloom ever since.

He lifts his fingers to Lyx’s mouth. She flinches, but she doesn’t pull away. She doesn’t move at all, save for the breath passing between her lips. It gusts over his skin so lightly that he can hardly believe it’s real. After a moment, he traces a claw around the bow of her top lip. He could stay like this for hours, memorizing the intricacies of her face when she isn’t hiding them. It’s like the blindfold covers her eyes and exposes everything else, like her expression is no longer being guarded by a firing squad.

The thought makes him reckless, his head inclining until their noses brush. “Can I kiss you?”

Her tongue slides over her lips, so close that he can almost feel it. Her voice is hoarse. “Why?”

It’s not disgust. It’s not an outright no. His taste buds prickle. “To see if you still taste as sour as you look.”

Tangy and sharp as a lemon. Deep purple blooms in Lyx’s cheeks, but she rushes forward, colliding with his mouth until he whines. It’s not a kiss. Not quite, with its teeth and seething hatred and sounds she tries to hide.

Blood trickles into his mouth. It stings when her saliva fills the wound. He groans, but it doesn’t hurt enough to pull away. Her teeth scrape his lip again, like she’s as hungry for it as he is. The burn is a delicacy, heat throbbing between his legs when he eases forward.

Her teeth release. He sucks in a breath, but it’s not quite relief. He doesn’t want to disrupt this. He fears she’ll pull away, but her tongue glides over the damage to his lip instead.

Cav braces a hand against the mast. He doesn’t move. He doesn’t even breathe.

Cautiously, she licks into his mouth, like the taste of his blood is a treasure she thought she’d lost. She plunders him like she’s in a trance, tongue probing the cut until Cav shivers at the raw, delicious feeling.

Her mouth stills like she’s been drawn out of a dream. She doesn’t pull back. Doesn’t move her head. Doesn’t turn away from both of their heavy breathing.

“You never know when to quit,” she pants. He wishes he could see her eyes. He hopes they’re as glassy as his feel. “It’s always going to come back to bite you.”

He runs his tongue over his wound, savoring it the way leather hugs a brand. “Maybe I like being taught a lesson, even if I don’t learn it.”

Her fingers curl in the restraints. He has the sudden urge to untie her, to place her hands on his chest and let her grab onto him, but her voice cuts through the vision. “You need to get back to putting on your little show. Your audience is waiting.”

The hum of the partygoers fades back in. He’d forgotten about them; he’d like to forget them again, but he has to remember what this is for. He’s here to give Lyx chaos. He’s here to feed her. With great restraint, he pushes back from her. “I told you, it’s not for them.”

He allows himself one last, lingering look at her. Purple scars rope around the thick swells of her body, fuchsia hair slipping from where it’s piled atop her head. Even tied to the mast, she’s lost none of her ferocity.

Cav runs his fingers over the soft glow of her bare shoulders. “Down there, they can only see outlines. They can only guess what the two of us are doing — even if one of us is bioluminescent.”

Lyx’s thighs clench together. Cav locates the eyelets on the back of her corset and unhooks them until it falls away. Her back curves at the newfound freedom, pressing her full breasts to the front of her blouse.

“What do you think they’ll see?” Cav lowers his mouth between her shoulder blades. “You, trying to keep your composure?”

She scoffs, but she can barely choke it out.

“What, then?” he asks. “You, failing? You, begging me to finish you off?” He drags his forked tongue up the nape of her neck. “You, whimpering pitiful little sounds on the tip of my tongue?”

Lyx shuts down a shiver. “They can’t hear anything down there.”

Cav smirks. He reaches for the speaking trumpet that’s secured to the railing and angles it down toward the crowd. With his other hand, he finds one of Lyx’s nipples through the fabric and settles his fingers around it, tightening and tugging until she cries out.

Below them, a hush falls over the crowd.