Lady Gouldian

by Read, Calia

  I quicken my steps, anxious to escape him. Wall sconces that once had to be manually lit, have been updated to electric. They dot the hallways and create my path with a warm, rich glow. But the farther I walk down the hall, into the private quarters of Belgrave, the sparser the lights become.

  I wait for Asa to turn and walk away. But he doesn’t. His steps remain steady and sure.

  I exhale and continue toward my room for the night. My heart begins to slow; I know this is the moment I should turn around and tell him to go. But how can do I that? I feel as powerless as him.

  When I approach my room, I nearly break into a run. My dress billows around my ankles and swishes against the floor.

  This is my final attempt to put distance between the two of us. After this, I can’t and won’t fight him. I’ll let free the words and anguish living inside of me.

  I enter my room, and without a backwards glance, slam the door behind me. With my hands on my hips, I pant, waiting for him. He’s behind me. He’s coming.

  All my life he’s been behind me.

  Just as I expect, the door opens. Asa looms in the doorway, nostrils flared, and his eyes in thin slits. He slams the door so loudly I’m surprised the door doesn’t fall off the hinges.

  In the ballroom, we were surrounded by guests, but the looks we gave one another were reckless. To be alone in my room is downright fatal. I know what happens when we’re alone. One of us will not make it out with their heart intact.

  I point at the door he just slammed. “Go. You have no right bein’ in here!”

  “I have every right,” he shoots back.

  “The day you married your wife you lost any right to me.”

  My words only serve to flare Asa’s anger. His hands curl into fists, and as he takes a step closer, I can feel how much control it’s taking him not to come any further.

  “Were you tryin’ to make me jealous tonight?”

  “I was tryin’ to enjoy myself. Am I allowed to do that, Asa?”

  Asa has never understood that he’s someone who demands attention no matter where he’s at, and when he steps into the room, the space becomes a bit smaller. We’re the only ones in my bedroom, but I swear there’s only inches between us, not steps, and I have nowhere to go.

  I feel my breath become clogged in my throat. Every interaction we’ve had since I’ve returned to Charleston has been leading up to this moment. Our souls have always been connected. The circumstances for our separation irrelevant.

  “You hate when I’m happy.”

  “Nathalie,” he warns.

  “It’s the truth,” I persist. “When any man shows interest in me, you intervene. You push them away from me!”

  A sardonic laugh slips from his lips. “Is that so?”

  I nod.

  He steps back and gestures for me to go forward. “Well, then go. Go back to Conrad.”

  For a long moment, I stand there weighing my choices. I don’t want to go back to the reception. I don’t think of Conrad. I forgot of his existence until tonight. But to keep my pride intact, I’ll go back to that ballroom and dance until I can no longer see straight.

  With my shoulders held high, I walk forward. “That sounds lovely.” As I walk past Asa, I say beneath my breath, “Perhaps he won’t abandon me.”

  I open the door, only to have it immediately closed. Asa’s strong hands clamp down on my shoulders and whirl me around.

  He looms over me, so tall I have to tilt my head back to get a clear look at his face.

  “I never left you, damnit!” he shouts.

  “Then what do you call the past five years?” I shout back. I don’t try to hide the pain laced in my words. As badly as it hurts to ask that question, it feels freeing to speak it because it’s one I’ve thought to myself for quite some time.

  “Payin’ for my mistakes!” Asa blurts. His eyes close and his body sags forward as though the confession tore at a deep part of him.

  When he lifts his head, all I see are his eyes. Those brown eyes lined with thick lashes. They reflect that the truth is just as surprising to him as it to me.

  “I never wanted to leave you, Nathalie,” he admits in a quieter voice. “Ever.”

  I continue to watch those damn eyes of his and I feel my resolve breaking. I still have so much hurt inside. Hurt that I don’t want to live inside me any longer. I look away from his eyes at the ground. “No, that’s not true.”

  Asa pulls back. “Yes, it is.”

  “There were so many times we could’ve been together. I made a wretched fool of myself at your weddin’ and still nothin’ from you!” I push at his chest.

  “I started to walk toward you, but Étienne ushered you away!”

  Many truths are letting themselves known, but we are getting far too close to what I don’t want to acknowledge, and to what hurts the most.

  I take a deep breath and try to control my pain and anger, but it doesn’t help. “I don’t want to be around you,” I lie.

  A short burst of laughter escapes him. He takes a step toward me. “You are a Lacroix. If you really wanted to, you would find a way to get me out of here.”

  “It’s true. I don’t want you here because I hate you.”

  The moment I say the words I know they are a lie. And foolish. So foolish. I just want him to hurt like me.

  “Careful,” Asa says, his voice dangerously soft. “Don’t say anythin’ you will regret.”

  As he observes me, I stay very still. My heart thunders in my ears as he eyes languidly travel across my face.

  “Nathalie,” he murmurs. He always speaks my name like it’s a treasure. He covets each letter and syllable as though he’ll never speak a name quite as beautiful.

  Even now. After I made a dreadful ass of myself and spoke words I didn’t mean.

  “It’s true. I don’t regret anythin’. I want you to go.” I swallow down my passion and fury. “So go,” I demand. “Leave right-”

  Asa slams his mouth against mine, stealing the lies from my lips. I breathe deeply through my nose and close my eyes. The kiss becomes open-mouthed and demanding, filled with violent lust. My legs find their way around his waist. Asa keeps one hand beneath my bottom, and the other curves around my head, holding me to him.

  I taste his anticipation and desire. My tongue curls around his in a seductive rhythm that he expertly taught me. The action draws out a ragged groan from him. As our mouths remain connected, our hands frantically claw at the other’s clothing.

  Dimly, I’m aware of Asa moving us away from the door, but I’m too distracted by his shirt and the dreadful number of buttons to care.

  It’s when Asa stops that I open one eye and see we’re on the other side of the room, with the settee behind me. I unwrap my legs from around his waist and slide down his body. Our lips part, the same time I move against the long length of him.

  Asa sucks in sharp breath and holds onto my waist to keep me in place. I turn him around, so he’s facing the settee. Asa stares at me with confusion, and with a half-smirk, I push at his shoulders. He willingly falls back onto the settee. I gather my dress in my hands, exposing my garters and stockings. Asa watches my every moment as though his life depends on it.

  With ease, I straddle him, as though this is a daily occurrence. My body settles against his so perfectly, that when I brush against his cock, I rock against him. Asa swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

  “You’re goin’ to punish me, aren’t you?” Asa demands.

  As I push his suspenders down his arms, I pause and look down at him. “Oh, I would never do that.”

  Asa nearly growls, and my stomach clenches in apprehension. Asa tugs so violently on the sleeve of my dress that it tears. He stares at the exposed skin like a hungry animal.

  I love this ravenous, predatory side of him. Asa is always so contained and composed but this side reveals the animalistic part that lives deep within him.

  The ripped sleeve of my dress slides down my arm and exposes the upp
er part of my chest. Asa hooks his finger in the middle of the dress and pulls down, exposing my breasts. The cool air against my nipples makes me suck in a sharp breath. Not for long, though, because Asa’s hands are on me, cupping my breasts, pushing them together, before his thumbs brush against my nipples. I squirm against him as my heart frantically beats against my chest.

  He continues his ministrations before he leans in and sucks a nipple into his mouth. A breathy sigh escapes me as I wrap my arms around his shoulders. His tongue flicks against the tip just to tease and torture me.

  He switches to the other breast, repeating the process. I watch his bent head. The dark glossy strands of his hair brushing against my skin.

  Unable to take any more, I pull back and kiss him hard on the mouth. Reasoning never leads to love. Neither does half-felt feelings. What I feel is a glorious crash of confusion and desperation completely experienced that it brings me to my most basic self.

  Asa pulls back from the kiss and starts to unbutton his pants. He lifts his hips and I help him pull them down the rest of the way. Completely exposed to me, I see how hard he is, and gently take him between my hands. Even so, that small touch spurs Asa to close his eyes and suck in a sharp breath.

  My hand wraps around the base of him and moves slowly upward. He’s smooth and hot and my hand immediately remembers the size of him. When I reach the tip, my finger brushes across the head, causing Asa’s hips to jerk upward.

  I smirk, but Asa stares at me between eyes barely open. “Don’t smirk. You forget I know where to touch you.”

  Before I can reply, one of his hands tightly holds my waist and the other moves beneath my gown. His large hand glides up my thigh, briefly touching my garter before he moves between my legs.

  Asa doesn’t hesitate. He knows precisely where to go. As he moves past the barrier of my undergarments, I suck in a sharp breath.

  His finger brushes against my entrance. My hands tighten on his shoulders.

  He lifts a dark brow. “Already wet,” he whispers gruffly.

  Then, very slowly, he slides a finger into me. Immediately I tighten around him, desperate for more.

  “God, Nat,” Asa groans.

  His finger moves in and out, and a whimper escapes my mouth, betraying me.

  Asa stops his ministrations and withdrawals his hand. This time, he’s the one that smirks. “Somethin’ wrong?” he asks innocently.

  I want to scream with frustration. I do the next best thing and kiss him. He’s waiting and ready. His mouth slants over mine. It’s a collision of passion and left-over tension from the start of this night.

  Our hands find their way back to each other. We touch one another everywhere. Both of us have one collective thought and it’s this: selfish greed.

  We want to take what we believe belongs to us. Mark the other as our territory, so everyone can see we are in possession of one another.

  “I’m still the only man you respond to this way.” It isn’t a question, but a fact. The way the corner of Asa’s mouth curls up has my stomach clenching.

  I know he’s right, but I stubbornly look him in the eye and don’t respond. Asa leans forward and kisses my neck. When I feel his hands cup the back of my head, I expose the column of my neck, and he gently bites on the exposed skin before he soothes the burn with his tongue and mouth.

  Just like I knew he would.

  “Do you still hate me?” he asks against my neck.

  “I hate you with everythin’ inside of me,” I hiss. But my body shakes because he’s right, damnit, I know he’s right.

  Asa shakes his head and stares at my body, his eyes lingering on my breasts. “You hate what we are.”

  I shake my head, and in retaliation, he, once again, bites my neck. I know tomorrow I’ll have a mark. I know this is one more step in branding me as his.

  With a gentle push against his shoulders, Asa stops and looks at me.

  I can’t wait any longer. I need him right now. I rise up on my knees. My hands are on Asa’s shoulders for support. Anticipation makes the corner of my mouth lift up as I look into his eyes. For once, he looks away, unable to meet my gaze.

  I’m not nervous. I’m not scared. I’m confident and ready. This isn’t my first time with Asa Calhoun.

  I wonder if confidence grows with the one you genuinely love. It has to. Because it’s only like this with Asa.

  With him, I try less because you know more.

  Knowledge is power in this world. Why shouldn’t the same apply to love?

  I know everything about this man’s body. I’ve learned what he likes and doesn’t. Blood hums through my veins with anticipation.

  For right now, there’s no going slow. It’s been far too long since I’ve been this intimate, this connected with Asa. I slide down his length with ease, and when I’ve taken every inch of him, I move my hips.

  Asa hisses and closes his eyes. “God damn,” he barks.

  His hands move to my hips, pressing into my skin. Asa tries to control my movements, and the pace, but I intercept his hands and place them on the settee while I slowly move up and down.

  “Is this what you want?” A savage gleam in his eyes.

  Rather than answering him, I look down at our connected bodies and back to his face. It’s pulled taut as he tries to control himself. The hands he keeps bunched at my waist, hold onto the material of my dress so tightly his veins jut out from beneath his skin.

  With my forehead touching his, I whisper, “Tu m’as manqué.”

  Asa shifts his head, eyes blazing. When our lips are a hair’s breadth apart, I pull back. My hands find their way inside his shirt. I touch his bare shoulders, knead his muscles, and touch his defined biceps before moving back up to his neck.

  “Do you still love me?” he demands.

  I hear him. I just refuse to answer such a preposterous question. He’s had a hold of my heart since I was a little girl.

  I will never love another person as I love him.

  “Do you love me?” I breathe.

  His mouth opens. Not a sound comes out. I darkly smirk. Of course not.

  I slow my movements, and when I reach the base of his cock, I gyrate my hips. Sweat collects on his temple and his eyes are hooded as he watches me move. “My God, Nathalie. What do you want? I’ll give it to you,” he pants.

  I rise up, and smoothly slide down the length of him before I answer. “You know what I want.”

  Asa reaches out for me, but I move back. The action taking him deeper into me. “I can’t do that!”

  “Can’t or won’t?” I counter.

  I sit back in his arms, my hands moving to his face, staring into his eyes, while overwhelming emotions swirl inside of me.

  “I need you. I need you so much.”

  Asa repeats those words and I’m held captive, only nodding; I am so swollen and desperate for relief, my body tightly clings to him. Every move aches, but I rise to my knees and slide back down. I hold my whimpers to myself, as Asa continues to fight for control. I move faster, knowing I should prolong the torture. I’ve been waiting years to be this close to Asa, and I know the chance for us to ever be together like this again is slim.

  As my undulating begins to quicken, Asa abruptly stands, gripping me beneath the buttocks. The action takes me by surprise, but I wrap my legs and arms around him.

  He makes his way across the room. What I feel next is the mattress beneath me.

  Asa stands, pulling out of me. The absence makes me cry out, but Asa’s only taking the rest of his clothes off. I quickly follow his lead and remove what’s left of my dress. It slides down my legs and lands next to Asa’s pants and shirt. I shed my drawers and garters and begin to work on the laces of my corset. I must not work fast enough for Asa because he kneels beside me and swats my hand away.

  “How tight is this?” he mutters.

  Between his legs, his cock proudly juts out, still wet from me.

  “Stop starin’ at me,” Asa says, his eyes on the corse
t strings.

  “You’re naked,” I say with a grin.

  Asa finishes untying the corset. The moment he does, the garment falls back onto the bed. I take a deep breath. And then Asa grabs a fist full of my chemise and rips it in half.

  I stare down at the torn material in shock.

  “You’re naked,” he says with a wicked grin.

  Before I can say a word, he wraps his arms around me. I fall onto the bed. Feeling him, skin to skin, is better than I can describe. He begins to kiss me, and I brush my nipples against his chest, loving the friction. This close to him and I’m hyperaware of every action we make.

  Asa lifts his head, eyes slightly glazed. “You can’t do that.”

  “Why not?” I whisper as I rub against him. “We already started.”

  Asa drops his forehead between my breasts and takes a deep shuddering breath. He rests his weight on one elbow, and I watch as he grabs himself with one hand and smoothly slides back into me.

  I’m wet from before, but I still feel unprepared. Breathing deep, I tilt my head back. As Asa moves above me, he grabs my hands and places them above my head.

  “I’ve thought about this for years.”

  His words and actions elicit a moan from me. I wrap my legs around him and urge him to move faster, because I know I won’t last long; I know I am close to losing control.

  I watch as Asa smoothly thrusts in and out of me, and the tension continues to build in me. “Faster,” I pant.

  Asa goes at the same pace as though he doesn’t hear me. “Every bird needs a home, a place to sleep at night,” he whispers. His speed begins to increase. I suck in a sharp breath.

  “They may not stay there for all the seasons. But in the winter, they need a place to stay warm.”

  I try to listen to his words, but the tempo increases and the pressure deep inside me becomes too much. My feet move against the sheets as I frantically move against Asa.

  Then, there’s nothing but heat bursting through me. “Asa!” I cry out and grip his shoulders.

  He lets free everything he’s been holding back and moves so fast, our skin slaps together. I hold onto him, my body moving with every thrust. And shortly after, Asa squeezes my hands. “Christ!” he roars.