as he slowly looked her up and down, the lusty admiration in his eyes as plain as day. She wanted to raise her arms to cover herself, but resisted the urge. Let him look, she thought resolutely.
But Andrey didn’t just want to look. He closed the distance between them and began showering her with heady kisses. His lips travelled from her face to her neck, then to her bare shoulders. He slowly sank to his knees, worshipping every available inch of her body with his tongue and lips. He painted a story of desire on her body; he was the artist and she was his canvas.
Ekaterina sighed in pleasure, lost for words. Her heart swelled with emotion. Outside, their love was forbidden, and if anyone even saw them exchange a knowing look their lives would be in danger. But here, and only here, they were safe, hidden away in their own private passageway. And so Ekaterina gave herself over to their shared passion, indulging in these few moments they had together. After all, who knew when they would be so free again?
When finally Andrey paused to look up, she was flushed with pleasure, her skin tingling and moist. She eased down to kneel with him and covered his face with soft kisses.
‘Is it my turn now?’ she asked playfully, pulling away.
Delight lit Andrey’s face, and he slowly stood. He reached for the buckles on his trousers, but Ekaterina batted his hands away and pulled them open herself. With a quick tug his trousers hit the floor and he sprang free—tall, thick and pulsing with desire. Curiosity overwrote modesty and Ekaterina slowly reached out to touch the bulging tip with a fingertip. She slowly covered his shaft with her palm. Then she experimentally pumped her hand, stroking the velvet skin. Andrey nearly doubled over.
Ekaterina watched as he swelled even more, the taut flesh growing even harder under her touch. But before she could do more, Andrey caught her wrist and pulled her up.
‘Not yet,’ he grunted. ‘I’ve not finished with you yet.’
His mouth was hot on hers, and he pulled her naked body flush against his. He delighted in her passionate sighs and her sweet scent before gently lowering her to her back on the ground. His fingers drew a tantalising path from her chin, stopping to tweak her caramel peaks before circling her navel. Hooking one of her legs over his shoulder, he tenderly planted soft kisses to the underside of her knee, up her inner thigh. Her breathing hitched, her scent becoming heady with need.
Murmuring mindless reassurances, Andrey dipped one long finger lower, coating it in her sweet nectar before sliding it inside her core. Ekaterina twisted in pleasure, her back arching off the floor. Andrey slowly withdrew and then pushed back in, his thumb rubbing small, coaxing circles around the pearl of her body as he did so. When she began to buck in wild, passionate abandon he pulled his fingers away.
Her complaining cry quickly turned into a low moan of pleasure as he positioned himself above her, his tip at her entrance. Bracing himself against the floor, he pushed himself in slowly, marvelling at how she constricted around him. She grabbed blindly for his shoulders, her nails digging into his muscled back as he began to thrust. His breathing grew ragged as he upped his pace, and Ekaterina began to writhe in pleasure beneath him.
They were close, so close...and then there were voices from outside the panel.
They stopped suddenly, eyes whipping round to the panel. Though muffled, they could both hear the sound of maids talking, their voices growing louder as they drew near. Ekaterina was about to slide away from Andrey when she felt him cover her mouth with his large hand.
‘We’re not done, my lady,’ he murmured. ‘But you must be quieter.’
She was about to protest, but he resumed his fervent rocking and her eyes rolled back instead. Their bodies came together with the sharp slap of skin on skin, and Ekaterina could barely focus on keeping the bubbling scream of pleasure down. Her body hummed with ecstasy, and she bit down on the heel of his palm to keep from crying out.
And still the voices grew louder.
Andrey stared down at her with his bright green eyes, his thrusts never wavering. His jaw grew tight and his rhythm grew frantic. He leaned closer, his other hand anchoring her hip to the floor and his eyes promising something more. Their breathing came in short gasps, sweat glistening on their skin.
Finally the voices faded out of earshot.
Andrey pulled his hand away, grabbed her hips with both hands and plunged in so deep that they both screamed in bliss, their voices echoing down the secret corridors. The world exploded in light and pleasure as they rode out the high together, toes curled and backs arched. Finally spent, they collapsed limply in a tangle of moist limbs, Ekaterina’s thighs quivering around his hips.
It seemed an eternity before they could manage the strength to stand, and they had to hold each other tight to ward off the sudden chill.
Ekaterina began to giggle, ensconced in Andrey’s muscular arms. He turned a sceptical eye on her and she laughed outright.
‘We can’t go out like this!’ she said again.
‘Well,’ Andrey said reasonably, ‘I suppose we’ll just have to make our way back to my suite.’
‘Collecting our clothes like breadcrumbs on a trail?’
‘Yes,’ he said, nodding sagely. ‘I suppose so.’
They picked themselves up and slowly made their way back through the tunnels, donning the clothes they had abandoned along the way. They teased and kissed as young lovers would, relishing the amorous attention. It was sweet. It was lovely.
But it couldn’t last.
Ekaterina only allowed herself to realise that fact much later, when she was safely back in her royal suite, alone with her thoughts. No, she told herself, they would never be safe to be together as long as they were under her aunt’s thumb. Andrey was in danger. Her whole family was in danger.
But there was one thing she could do.
Ekaterina pulled out paper and ink. Dipping her quill into the inkwell, she formulated a plan. And then she began to write.
It was Christmas Eve, and the Empress was hosting a grand ball in the newly unveiled Hall of Light. Ekaterina wandered through the crowd of guests, completely surrounded yet completely alone. She didn’t really mind. She was content to bask in the beauty of the fruition of Andrey’s planning and hard work—his ultimate creation.
During their few and precious stolen moments together he had alternated between lavishing her with sensuality and describing his ongoing project. Rastrelli had given him free rein, and Andrey had created this pinnacle of beauty in the Catherine Palace. Ekaterina’s heart swelled with pride; this hall would be a place remembered for generations to come.
True to its moniker, the hall glowed golden with reflected light. The walls and ceilings were covered in mirrors, each framed in polished gold. Golden chandeliers hung from the ceiling, and the floor was of two-tone marble. It was a masterpiece of architecture.
Ekaterina aimlessly admired each gilded frame, unique yet unified in design, and marvelled at the attention to detail. Besides, it distracted her from the spectacle at the other end of the hall.
Her aunt
