Ituen sat himself by her on the mat. Attem’s wrapper was tied low on her chest, her smooth skin glowing under the warm amber of the torches. Ituen dipped his head to kiss her shoulder, then her neck, inhaled her scent of crushed ylang ylang and sandalwood, and smiled against her skin as she relaxed and released an exhale as soft and full as her body.
‘We said it was the last time the past five times,’ he murmured against her throat.
Attem swallowed, trying to resolidify herself from her increasingly molten state. She gently pulled back from Ituen and held his chin. ‘You shaved your beard.’
‘You said it scratched.’
Attem smiled against his lips. ‘Ituen, we’re being reckless. We have to talk about this. Repeats are dangerous for the both of us.’
Ituen nodded. ‘Are we risking getting caught? Or risking something else?’ He swept a thumb across her jaw. ‘I fear the something else may have already happened, Leopardess. Let’s save ourselves the pretence.’
Attem ignored his implication, ignored the way her heart skipped at the endearment, and shook her head. ‘With a tongue so golden you should keep your mouth shut. Protect it.’
‘Ah, but then how could I kiss you?’
He leant closer to her and Attem smiled and teasingly pulled away, drawing on the power of anticipation. ‘You are a ridiculous man. How were your travels?’
Ituen sighed and reclined on the mat, popping a de-seeded star apple into his mouth. ‘Tedious. I infiltrated a royal court seven villages east. It was very easy. Rich people are terribly stupid. All you need to do is act the part and they don’t ask questions. They are also boring. And greedy. They are the thieves. All they talk about is the ways they exploit the poor, the women they pay to sleep with and the wives who would rather they stop. Got a gift for you, though.’ Ituen procured an onyx bracelet, tucked into the cloth wrapped around his waist, and held it high in front of Attem. She smirked as he tied it around her delicate wrist.
‘Thank you, sir. But we both know you have to keep that. For the last time, I don’t need anything from you.’
Hurt flashed through Ituen, but he attempted not to show it. ‘No. It’s for you. I want to give you something. To pay you back for the leopard you bought me, months ago.’
‘It was to remember me by.’
‘I want you to remember you by.’ Ituen was frustrated: he had finally found a way to live life as more than just a shadow. The carefree, reckless life he had told himself he enjoyed faded into a colourless, flavourless existence in comparison to his snatched moments with her. ‘Attem . . . you deserve the world. I hate that I cannot be the one to give you that.’
Attem ran the back of her hand across his jaw. Ituen was far more tender than when she had first met him. ‘You give me what I want. That’s more than enough.’
Attem always felt free with Ituen; nothing compressed, all her emotions flowing, unbound. There was no duty here, no mould, no rules. Here, they were their own jurisdiction. When she’d met Ituen all those months ago and chose him as her next conquest, she’d surprised herself by asking him to stay the following night. He’d surprised himself by saying yes. They’d both been surprised by the fact that their minds got along as well as their bodies did, that they’d ended up speaking till dawn, laughing into each other’s skin and talking about their theories on the universe. Each time they were careful to avoid talking about the future, not wanting to corrupt the startling sublimity of the present. Every morning when Ituen had to leave, they said their goodbyes and held their own quiet sadness close to their chests. They knew how dangerous it was, and so each time felt like the last. Attem was never sure if she was going to see Ituen again. And so they told themselves that there was no heart involved in their arrangement. A sweet lie that protected them from love as well as a mouse could fight a hawk.
Ituen released a small smile, designed to dissolve the direness of their reality, the gaping schism between their worlds. ‘It’s funny. Though I ate well at the feast Affiah brought me today, I still remain ravenous.’
Attem laughed and allowed Ituen to tug at the wrapper loosely tied at her breast.
‘You’re a fool. I’m afraid I have nothing for you to dine on here, sir.’
Ituen gently pushed her towards the mat. ‘I’m a hunter. I’ll find something.’
His lips bumped against hers, and it didn’t take long for her mouth to welcome him, for her body to beckon him. Only around Attem did Ituen feel calm, no longer desperate to move on to the next village. She was so strong, so he sought to be strong for her. She was so smart, so he found himself wanting to be smart for her. Kind, so he sought to be kind, like her. Getting to know her was his riskiest, yet most fulfilling adventure thus far.