//CLARA//
The cold from the terrace still clung to the wool of his coat.
I closed my eyes and felt him move, his lips tracing the arch of my eyebrow. He lingered at the tip of my nose, tracing the line down to the corner of my mouth, deliberately avoiding my lips.
The stubble on his jaw caught against my skin as he drifted to my cheekbone.
His mouth trailed along my jaw, the rough-soft texture of him raising gooseflesh across my skin. When he reached the hollow below my ear, he found that impossible, sensitive spot before tracing the shell of it with a slow, wet lick.
I let out a moan, an instinctive sound that cut through the silence of the room. Immediately, Casimir's thumb was there, pressing firmly over my lips to stifle the noise.
"Shh," he whispered against my ear. "You cannot be loud, little bird. The walls in this house have ears, and tonight, they are hungry for a reason to turn our disgrace into a funeral."
