It was dark by the time Violet made it to the car. Just another Friday evening. She’d already said goodnight to her father. He hadn’t seemed to suspect a thing. Didn’t he see it? Didn’t he hear the mad, racing beat of her heart? It felt like a newly caged bird, trying to burst its way out of her chest. Thump. Thump. Thump. Did he know? It felt as though the world revolved around her deceit. Just another Friday evening.

“What is it tonight?” he’d asked. He always asked but of course, she read too far into it and felt like he already suspected something.

“Just the orchestra,” Her voice sounded strange and she tried to set it right. “They’re doing Mozart and then Stravinsky’s Rite of Spring. I love that piece.” She’d looked up the program online, of course, feeling like a criminal the whole time. “It might go on until late,” she added.

“I don’t know how you can stand it,” he’d yawned as she walked with a forced casualness from the room. Her shoes clicked along the hard floors, the sound interspersed by the occasional heavy rug. Ralph was at the door. They didn’t speak until after he’d closed the car door behind her and was in the driver’s seat.

Then he sighed.

“It’d be pointless to tell you how crazy this is, wouldn’t it?” he said.

He was watching her in the rear-view mirror. Violet couldn’t meet his eyes.

“I’m not asking you to do anything,” she said. “I just know you’re too smart to get around. And I’d rather have you know about it than chase me.”

“I don’t really know if I should take that as a compliment,” Ralph mused. He tapped out a beat on the steering wheel and went into his pocket for chewing gum, his eyes still focused on her. “Vi, I can’t afford to lose this job.”

“I know.” She met his gaze then. “I know. And I wouldn’t let that happen. Just do this one thing. Please?”

He didn’t say anything.

“How’s Roma, anyway?” Violet surprised herself by remembering his girlfriend’s name. “Weren’t you going to propose?”

Ralph blew out a sigh.

“I plan to. Just – finding a moment.”

“Must be nice,” Vi said. “Not needing permission to be in love.”

Ralph snorted.

“Must be nice living a life of obscene luxury.”

“Prison is prison,” Violet said. “Doesn’t matter if it looks nice on the outside.”

Ralph groaned.

“Fine! Enough with the theatrics! See this, kid. I won’t stop you but you get caught, it’s all you, okay?” He twisted in his seat to look at her, his blue eyes shaded with concern. “Vi, I don’t want to see you hurt. Bottom line. You understand? You’re playing with fire. You do know that, right?”

She knew it. But fire was pretty to look at and it warmed her in the most addictive way. She hadn’t felt this way since – no. She frowned and tried to expel the thought. Don’t go there.

“Vi!” Ralph was still looking at her. “I’m talking third-degree burns if you get caught. Is he really worth it?”

She bit her lip and looked down at her hands. They shook a little and she sat on them.

“Yes. I’m sorry but yes,” She looked up as Zed approached the car. “He’s – everything.”

***

Life was routines; doing the right things, meeting the right people, perfecting the right smiles and wearing the right dresses. Nothing more. She shouldn’t have even wanted more. Her life was something programmed into her, instilled since childhood and she should have accepted it. Not survived, but thrived.

But she couldn’t. Too many books. As soon as she could read, she’d raced her way through every book she’d been able to find and they’d filled her head with the idea of a life that meant more. Fiction. It gave her ideas about things she should be doing. She didn’t even know how other people lived, what life was like beyond her own. Nobody ever told her. The staff laughed off her questions as though she were being purposefully stupid.

And then there was Zed.

He turned up at the start of summer, a tour guide at the palace to begin with and then a minor member of the security patrol team. They crossed paths often enough to become familiar with one another and he had the kind of smile which invited conversation. It helped that he was young, maybe a couple of years older than her. He seemed amused by her almost obsessive interest in his everyday life but he humoured her all the same and she ran with it until she felt free enough to ask him anything she wanted.

Where did you grow up? Tell me about your school, your siblings, your house. Did you have to share a bedroom? What kind of food did you eat? Did you wash your own plate? How many friends do you have? How long have you known them? How many girlfriends have you had? Where do you buy food? Clothes? What do you do when your money runs out? What time do you wake, eat, sleep? What do your parents do? Do they still work? What do you do for fun?

The wrong question.

He was leaning against a statue in the sprawling flower garden, looking down at her bent over a sketchpad.

“Fun? Uh – I dunno. Go out. Drink. Maybe football. Photography.”

“Oh, you’re a photographer?” She looked up at him.

“Uh-huh,” He looked faintly pleased with himself as though sparking her interest was an achievement. “Amateur, really. Hey, maybe I can practice on you.”

Violet frowned down at her sketch more to avoid the half-proposal than anything. She’d been working on a still-life of the statue for days even though she’d never been artistically inclined. Endless lines of grey pencil spanned the page. Grey lines. Grey days.

“Violet?”

Zed was looking at her.

“I don’t think so,” she said apologetically. “Besides, I kind of avoid being photographed unless it’s official. Can you imagine an unflattering shot on the cover of a tabloid?”

“It’d only be between us,” Zed frowned. “What, you don’t trust me?”

She frowned harder at her sketch, still avoiding his gaze.

“Of course I trust you. It’s just – well, my dad wouldn’t like it for a start.”

“So don’t tell him,” Zed said.

She tried not to smile.

“It’s really not that easy. This place is full of people. Walls have ears.”

There was a pause as he digested her words.

“So we’ll keep it on the quiet,” he said finally, “Unless these walls have eyes too?”

“I’m serious,” she laughed, looking up. “Everyone’s always watching.”

“We’ll find a place,” he said, like it was that simple. “Besides, I’m pretty crap at portraits anyway. They say the best way to improve is practice and we both have time so you’d really be doing me a huge favour.”

They looked at each other. She wanted to hate him. To refuse now would seem like she was haughtily denying him something trivial. But to say yes would be to add another layer of inappropriateness to their already over-familiar relationship. She felt dangerously close to him and it had been what – a fortnight since they’d met?

“I’m not even photogenic,” she stalled. “Really. I’m a terrible model. You should ask someone else.”

“I don’t want to ask anybody else,” he replied quietly. His eyes were on hers and in the sunlight, his irises were liquid gold. Violet tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ear. The sun beat down ominously.

“Fine,” she said. “But don’t blame me when you end up disappointed.”

He took a step closer to her.

“I won’t be,”

She frowned up at him and something in his eyes darkened. His hand came out hesitantly as his tongue wet his lips. Violet could only imagine what they’d feel like against hers. She caught his wrist just before his thumb brushed her mouth.

“Not here,” she said and his eyes smiled at the implied meaning.

***

There were at least a hundred people in the palace at any one time but Violet had listlessly wandered the gaping fortress for almost two decades. She knew the hidden rooms and intricate corridors like nobody else. There were always places. Places tucked away and forgotten over the seasons, locked doors and half-refurbished quarters. The top floor was a safe bet, as was the basement. The two extremes.

The attic was dusty and dry and the deeper she went, the hotter it felt. She told herself it’d be worth it while her stomach spun with anticipation. Nobody was around. Most of the rooms on the very top floor were rarely visited and only used for storage. She picked the smallest one, slipped through the heavy door and wondered if it’d be stupid to open the roof window. Of course, it would be.

Boxes of old books and toys were stacked against one wall but the room was otherwise empty. She opened a box and waved away the cloud of dust which sifted up. Books. Her old books. Dreams and fiction. She was half-considering taking them downstairs and reading them again when she heard a sound outside and froze. If it was anybody but him -

“Fucking hell,” Zed ran a hand through his hair as he entered the room. “It’s hot up here.”

He kicked the door shut, turned to slide the bolt across and then took a step closer to her. His eyes flicked to her mouth and then to her eyes.

“There’s nobody around?” he asked.

Violet opened her mouth to reply but his lips caught hers before she could. He kissed her like it was all he’d ever wanted to do. His hands grasped her waist, pulling her closer as his mouth opened against hers. He held the moment for a second, as though waiting for her to make the first move and just as she moved her tongue, he moved his, swooping it into her mouth.

He tasted like mint and the urgent push of his tongue made her feel dizzy. It was so hot; she could feel the sweat on the back of her neck and her dress stuck to her back a little as he pushed her against the wall. He pulled away, his lips still hovering against hers.

“How long have we got?” His mouth brushed hers as he spoke.

She opened her eyes.

“As long as we need,” she whispered.

Zed let out a breath, trapping her lower lip between his.

“You don’t even know how long I’ve wanted this,” he murmured. “This. You. Being alone for real.”

He kissed her again, his tongue more confident as it swept against hers and one of his hands traced upward into her hair, grasping a handful. His mouth moved down her neck, kissing the smooth skin, his tongue tracing the dip between her collarbones.

“You smell like heaven,” he whispered.

His hand was on her face, almost rough as he traced the lines of her cheekbones and jaw. He straightened up, his fingertips pushing against her mouth and she parted her lips instinctively, eyes on his. He let out a harsh sigh as he slid his fingers deep into her mouth.

“You can’t imagine the things I want to do to you,” he said.

Violet looked at him, pulled his fingers from his mouth and said, “Show me,”

He didn’t hesitate. His hands went down, undid his belt and pants, and she reached forward instinctively, touching his hard cock. It felt hot even to her sweaty fingers and she wrapped her hand around it, stroking gently.

His tongue wet his lips. They were looking at each other, both breathing hard and the more her hand moved, the deeper he breathed.

“Get on your knees,” he said finally.

She didn’t hesitate. His hands sank into her hair as she took his cock in her mouth and he pushed forward. She looked up at him. His eyes were closed.

“Fuck,” he sighed.

Her tongue curled against his hard, throbbing erection and he slid further, guiding her head back and forth as he stroked gently in and out of her mouth. He went deeper with every couple of thrusts and soon enough, he was hitting the back of her throat. Violet sucked in air through her nose, her eyes watering as he moved faster, his breath coming out harshly.

“Look at me,” he hissed.

Her eyes flicked up to meet his and he exhaled.

“Jesus fucking Christ,”

He pushed forward urgently, his cock going as deep as it could and he held her there for a few seconds before pulling back. She used her tongue on the underside, hoping to abate him but he pushed again and even though it hurt to take it, she didn’t want him to stop. There was something reckless and lewd about the moment; something intensely satisfying in being used for his pleasure. She looked up at him through her damp eyelashes. His mouth was open, panting almost as he drove in and out of her mouth and when his eyes locked with hers, he let out a groan.

She wondered if he was going to come but before she found out, he was pulling free of her lips. He crouched down to her level, wiped the wetness from her chin with his hand and kissed her breathless mouth. His hands caught the hem of her dress, tugging it upward so he could feel the warm skin beneath and he detached from her mouth long enough to sweep the thin cotton up and over her head.

Nobody disturbed them. The room was furiously hot and the bare floorboards uncomfortable against their bodies but it didn’t even occur to either of them. Zed’s hand pushed between her legs, coaxing her to orgasm before she even had time to protest.

Then he pulled back, easing out of his shirt and pants. Violet took the opportunity to free her legs from the damp underwear tangled around her knees and had only just tossed the scrap of lace aside before he was kissing her again. His body was damp with sweat and warm above hers. Sweaty skin. She tasted the salt on his collarbone as he moved between her legs, fumbling through his discarded clothes for a condom.

“I should’ve brought my camera,” he said, his eyes drinking in her naked body. “You’re like a work of fucking art, princess.”

He kissed her again before she could laugh. Something about the way he touched her made her feel so wonderfully wanted. His hands groped her body like he wanted to remember every angle and curve and each time she gasped, he touched her harder, his fingers clawing and stroking against her until she could only moan.

By the time the head of his cock pushed against her, she didn’t think she’d ever wanted anything more. He eased inside her slowly. Every movement felt significant. He filled her completely, to the border of pain but it could have been ten times worse before she protested. Her fingers clawed at his back and she felt fleetingly grateful for having short nails. She’d wanted him. Wanted this. Dreamed of things she could never admit to but here, in the daylight, skin against skin, everything was beautiful and crystal-clear.

He pulled back and pushed again and she exhaled.

“Yeah?” He pushed her hair back and studied her expression. “You like that?”

“I love it.”

His hand went to her throat and curled around it, holding her in place as his hips lifted. She followed them with her own, half-afraid he’d detach completely but he pushed back hard enough, burying himself deep inside her. He ground against her as long as he could and then he pulled back again, his movements becoming a steady rhythm. With each thrust, Violet felt the hard floor against her ass.

There was nothing to do but take it. Take it and welcome it and revel in it. She didn’t want it to end. Some part of her wanted to be there forever, running the fuck on repeat for eternity. His cock felt so right in her, natural and pure. Sweat. They were fighting for breath in the small, overheated room but they kissed again wantonly, mouths wet and hungry as his pulsing cock plundered into her over and over.

“You – feel – incredible,” he growled, as he withdrew before slamming her hard against the floorboards.

“God!” The word spilled from her mouth. “Someone might hear.”

Zed didn’t stop. Each thrust was measured, forceful and her snatch only seemed to get wetter each time her ass hit the floor.

“Hear us?” He raised an eyebrow. “What? Hear me fucking you?”

She moaned as he pushed in deep and ground there, making pleasure flood her body. His hand groped a path down her body and his fingertip found her clit, rubbing it urgently. She sucked in a desperate breath.

“Zed – please.”

“Please what?” His hair was damp with perspiration and he’d never looked more attractive.

“Please fuck you until you can’t walk? Please what, princess?”

“God,” She couldn’t hold his gaze as his finger moved. Her body felt as though it belonged to him; everything he did reverberated through her. She tried to suck in air but he was kissing her again, his tongue roughly exploring her mouth as his finger quickened. She couldn’t hold on. Her body arched under his as she came, clenching hard around his cock.

“Fuck!”

Zed came too, his mouth dragging to her shoulder and biting down as he jerked inside her. The mutuality only intensified the pleasure. They ground against each other as his weight gave and for a long while, all Violet could feel was hot, draining satisfaction.

***

The days passed in a blur; endless boredom replaced by rampant fascination. Violet was so used to everyone knowing everything about her that when Zed returned her questions, she wasn’t quite sure what words to give him. But it wasn’t an interview. It was just them. Two people leaning into adulthood and getting high off the thrill of deceit.

Nobody knew. She couldn’t begin to imagine what her father would think if he found out. It didn’t bear thinking about. He had plans. Vague ideas coming out of an ever-present blurry mist about suitable matches his advisors been considering since her childhood. Violet knew the shortlist and it bored her to no end. The right men. The kind of men who spoke right and looked right...