//CLARA//
Casimir's hand found mine, his grip fever-tight. He didn't speak. He pulled me hard and I stumbled after him, my legs still unsteady.
We barely made it through the door when his body pinned me against the wall before I could exhale, his mouth finding mine with the same desperate hunger he'd unleashed in the drawing room.
I stumbled backward, my spine hitting the cool marble wall. It was only when the chill seeped through my gown that I realized where we were. He pressed me into the stone like he could fuse us together.
"Someone will hear," I gasped against his mouth.
"I don't care."
His hands were already at my skirts, gathering the silk, pushing them up my thighs. The cool air hit my skin, and then his fingers were there, finding me wet and aching, and I forgot why anyone would care about being heard.
"Casimir—"
