#2: Scandalous Demonstrations
1542 Words
A tavern. Of all places, he took me to a tavern.
A myriad of bright yellow and orange lights spilled from the building’s doors and windows. However, none of those were as gripping as the loud chatter and clinking glasses, which almost overpowered the music. Where I felt an overwhelming urge to run and hide at the festival, here, I felt this undeniable pull to walk in and join all the others.
“Of all places, you really do believe that there would be a show of masculine anatomy at a tavern?" Heat found its way to my cheeks as I spoke, and my voice came out breathier than I would have wanted.
“You’d be surprised, fair lady. Now, shall we?” My companion stretched out an arm as he had only moments ago. “Or were you just bluffing the entire time?” The challenge in his voice didn’t go unnoticed, and the slight smile on his face promised a night of adventure that surely no maiden in the whole of Evenmoor would have been able to ignore.
Placing my hand in his and trying my best to ignore the volts of electricity that ran up and down my hand, I replied, “We shall.”
Stepping into the tavern, the noise hit us immediately. It was louder and wilder than the festival. The distinct stench of ale was another detail that I found particularly hard to miss.
He led me deeper into the tavern, toward a crowd forming a circle.
Several glass jars were raised in the air, and the circle seemed to hold the heart of all the noise in the tavern itself. Ripples of excitement flowed through me as I stared at the man who had led me here in the first place, once again, eyebrows raised. “Display of masculine anatomy, huh?”
Raising his hands, he tilted his head over to where the small crowd formed. “Well, don't take my word for it. You should see it for yourself.”
My heart hammered against my chest. Heat rushed to my cheeks, and I felt every single atom in my body propelling me forward as I pushed further into the crowd. And when I finally got to the front, I could say that all the heat I felt earlier had morphed into ice.
Before me were two shirtless men. Their chest was covered in a sheen of sweat. Muscles beneath their skin rippling and flexing. Hands locked into each other and narrowed eyes communicating death to the other as they engaged fervently in their arm wrestling match. I swallowed. While this was a lot more than I had seen my entire life when it came to males, it wasn’t exactly what I had come for.
Mother always said that I exaggerated too much, but it would be fair to say that my heart plummeted to the pits of my stomach.
Underwhelmed, I turned on my heels to find my companion staring at me with an innocent smile. An innocent smile that easily told me that he knew exactly what he did.
“Disappointed?” He asked, with his arms behind him.
“What do you think?”
“I think that you needed a reason to leave the festival, and I gave you one.”
“I-”
“You didn't really expect to see such scandalous acts left on display? Do you want us to spend the night in jail?”
The disappointment I felt earlier was quickly morphing into something else, and I felt the heat in my face begin to return. The only difference is that this came with an emotion associated with rage.
“Take me back. I'm done for the night,” I told him, ready to put all my plans for the night to rest. I had made a mistake. I had chosen the wrong victim.
Rather than lead me out as I had expected, he moved closer, and on instinct, I took a step back, and foolishly, when he took another step towards me, I didn't make a move. Perhaps that scandalous part of me still lived and still believed in a fun night.
When he was only inches away from me, he leaned downward, his hot breath fanning my ear. “There are rooms upstairs. If you want a proper demonstration, then I suggest we do it away from parties that should not be involved.”
Every part of my body went still, and my eyes grew wider than the jars that everyone seemed to carry around at the tavern. Mine and Ophelia’s conversation replayed in my head and she was right, my first time shouldn’t be with a withered old Lord.
I attempted to speak once, but only a gasp came out of my mouth. Taking in a deep breath, I tried once more, and that was when I was finally able to form coherent words again.
“I thought you’d never ask.”
That was all the permission my nameless companion needed to secure a room. We practically ran upstairs, and by the time my companion locked the room door behind us, I was breathless, from anticipation or the little exercise we had just done? I couldn’t say.
My companion turned to face me, and without warning, he took off his mask, and everything I had believed earlier that night transcended the reality I had felt for so long. I thought he was beautiful with that silver mask on, and, to be honest, when I embarked on this mission, I never once considered the beauty of my one-time lover. Any man was good enough for me, but dear Lord, this wasn’t just any man. This was one of the men in my books. In real life!
My breath hitched, and it would be safe to say that my mind completely turned to mush.
Not really knowing exactly what happened in situations like this, I followed his lead, taking off my mask as well.
His lips parted ever so slightly, and for a split second, I wanted him to think of me as a work of art too, even though I knew that none of this would matter tomorrow.
“You look… You are beautiful,” he finally said, his eyes growing even darker by the second.
“What? You never thought that a woman genuinely interested in the display of masculine anatomy would look good?” I replied, avoiding his heated gaze.
"Right," he said, his voice rougher than earlier. "You wanted a demonstration."
He reached for his belt.
Good Lord. This was really happening.
I should look away. Should stop him. Should run away and settle for the shirtless men's arm wrestling. Should—
The belt hit the floor with a soft thud. He was actually doing it.
I couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. My eyes were glued to him as his hands went to the buttons of his shirt.
One. Two. Three.
The fabric parted, revealing skin I'd only ever seen in stolen sketches. Somehow even more defined than the ones I had seen downstairs. Somehow different, even though a chest was just a chest. Muscle and shadow and—
My legs gave out. I sat abruptly on the edge of the bed, gripping the sheets to keep from shaking.
He paused, eyes finding mine. "Want me to stop?"
"No." The word came out strangled. "Don't stop."
His lips formed a small smile. Then the shirt fell away entirely.
Sweet merciful heaven.
I'd read descriptions. I'd seen drawings. I'd studied anatomy. Not the kind the teachers taught in school, but enough to have me equipped for any situation, or so I thought.
None of it had prepared me for the reality of a half-naked man standing three feet away, looking at me like… like…
His hands moved to his trousers.
I forgot how to breathe.
The fabric slid down. Then his undergarments.
And then he was standing before me, completely, gloriously, terrifyingly bare.
I'd studied anatomy. I'd memorized diagrams. I'd even stolen a medical illustration from Father's library once and hidden it under my mattress for reference.
None of it. I repeat, none of it had prepared me for this.
He was... substantial. That was the only word my scrambled brain could produce. Thick and long and very much ready, with veins that the drawings had definitely not included and a size that made me seriously reconsider the plausibility of this entire endeavor.
"The drawings," I managed, my voice lighter than I would have hoped, "were criminally inaccurate."
A small laugh brought me out of my thoughts, and that was when I realized that I had said that out loud. "Disappointed?"
I shook my head, unable to form coherent speech.
Not disappointed. Terrified. Exhilarated. Completely and utterly speechless because, good Lord, this night may not have been a mistake after all.
"Good," he murmured, stepping closer. "Because now I get to see what you’ve been hiding from me all night."
A knot formed in my stomach. I had come out tonight for one task, and one task only, and I was not leaving until that task was complete.
I, Quinn Feywin, would take part in the marital act tonight even if it killed me.
- Writer
