The Palace of Curiosities

‘Yes, my dear.’

I thought it a little overwrought, but tonight I could allow him any of his fancies.

‘Come now, Mrs Arroner.’

He took my hand and patted it; I lifted my golden wrist to his chin and he pecked at it with dry lips.

‘My name is Eve, dearest.’

‘It is indeed. The sweetest of names to my heart from the day I met you.’

He leaned forward and pressed his mouth to the velvet of my forehead. A deep thrill swept from that spot down to my inmost parts until I was running over with richness, churning instantly from milk to cream.

‘Oh, Josiah,’ I breathed, and snatched at his coat, pulling him towards me.

The weight of his breath warmed the crook of my neck, perfumed with coffee and tobacco. I wrapped my arms around him and we rocked backwards and forwards. I rubbed myself against him, purring. Unsheathed my claws and dug them into his back, chewing on his neck.

He shoved me hard; my eyes sprang open to find him breathing in short bursts, his collar awry where I had torn it. He staggered to the mirror where he examined the spreading wine-stain of my mouth on his throat, and began to tie his cravat very high, to cover the dark spot. I watched the way his fingers slipped the silk over and about until he was satisfied with his handiwork, devouring his every gesture. However, I was confused, for I would be proud to have his mark on me – would parade our passion without shame. Then I understood: he did not want to share our secret. I giggled.

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