One finger, two, into the tightness of her body. His thumb circling her nubbin as her writhing grew more insistent.
“Fletch?” She whimpered his name, almost terrified.
“Come for me, Talia. Come for me.” The growl in his command was borne out of his own need to plunge into her. “Trust me, Talia. Don’t fight it. Come for me. Now.”
She screamed, her body curling, fingernails digging into his shoulders. Fletch shifted above her, and drove deep into her in one long motion, breaking through her body’s long held barrier.
Her body jerked at the intrusion, a whimper of pain that dissolved into a breathy moan as the rolling shudders continued, ravaging her body.
Fletch lifted his hips, removing himself almost to the tip, then propelled downward, filling her again. So tight, and her body constricted again and again around his cock with every second, with every thrust.
Pulling at him and forcing him to the edge of control he didn’t know existed.
He lost himself.
Lost himself so deep within her until barely at the last second did he pull out of her. He only half managed to get his cock onto his discarded trousers before he came with such brutal force that his seed spread into a mess, half on her thigh, half on his trousers.
She was still shuddering, her back arched, her fingers digging into his back. Fletch made a quick swipe with his trousers to clean what he could, and then he drove his arm under her back, flipping them on the bed so she was on top of him.
His arms wrapped so tightly around her body he thought he might crush the air from her, he stared at the grey damask canopy above them.
What in hades was that torture?
Being inside Talia had shattered him.
There was no other word for it.
Shattered.
He hadn’t known it would happen, so he had no defense against it. So shattered he had barely pulled out in time.
Before he could even begin to comprehend the loss of control over his own body, Talia exhaled a soft groan, rife with satisfaction, and stretched her body out on top of him.
Her arms wiggled free from his clasp and her palms found the bed on either side of his chest. She pushed herself up, looking down at him. “Do I leave now? That is what seems to happen in the brothels. One of the two people—or three—always seems to leave posthaste.”
Fletch laughed, his belly shaking her. “I forget what you have seen. Be assured, Talia, there is a whole world apart from what you have seen in those brothels.”
She frowned, poking his chest. “You do not need to laugh at me.”
He clamped an arm around her backside, pulling her back down onto the length of his body. She only resisted for the merest second. He kissed her forehead. “I mean no offense—it is as I said, I just forget what you have witnessed and how that shapes your viewpoint.”
She relaxed on top of him. “So I should remain?”
“Only if you would like. But I have no wish for you to leave this bed.”
“Good.” She nodded, the side of her cheek rubbing on his chest. “I like lying on you. I like what we just did. What you did to me.”
His fingers twined into her hair, his voice serious. “You felt it?”
“I did.”
“Good. I did too.”
Her answer pleased him, but did nothing to soothe the agitation wreaking havoc in his own chest. Their bodies joined. Talia lounging on top of him.
He did feel it.
Too much so. Too deep. Feeling that wasn’t ebbing.
He gave himself an invisible shake. He couldn’t very well gain control with her naked body on top of his.
“Did you see the berries?” Fletch pointed to the table next to the head of the bed. “I had them brought up here after dinner.”
“I did, but I did not know they were for me to snitch.” She rolled off his body, going to her knees next to him as a scold set upon her lips. “I do hope you are not still making judgements upon my person.”
“Your person is perfect.” He kissed the side of her waist as she stretched over his chest to reach the bowl. “But I saw how little food you were able to eat in between the conversations below.”
He stuffed a pillow behind his head to lift it. Talia set the bowl on his chest, sitting next to him as her fingers dug through the bowl to find the perfect blackberry. She popped it into her mouth, an instant smile radiating across her face.
Her naked thigh pressed alongside his chest as she looked down at him. Fletch set his forearm atop her thigh, his fingers playing along her hip bone. It jutted out slightly. She was perfect, but she did need to eat. And eat more than the berries she was currently munching on.
Decorum swept aside, she snatched an obnoxiously large handful of berries, devouring them, berry juice escaping down her chin. Her tongue slipped out, licking the dark streak with a giggle. “Not exactly becoming of me, I am aware.”
She dragged a thumb from the bottom of her chin upward, capturing the bead of purple juice. Sucking it off her thumb, her eyes danced at him.
His chest twisted. Damn, if he didn’t want to possess her. Her youth, her vibrancy, her enthusiasm for the simple pleasures life could afford.
This, right in front of him, was the answer to the question that had been plaguing his mind since he had asked her to marry him. Why had he offered for her? He didn’t need a wife and had planned on never having one, no matter what his aunt’s wishes were.
But Talia. He wanted her. Her ability to survive. To not wait for life to happen to her. To be present in determining her own course. To writhe underneath him. To eat berries with unapologetic gusto.
Maybe he was trying to steal that from her. Steal what she was. Steal her pluck. Her youth.
The blue in her hazel eyes darkened at him—reflecting his own look, he imagined.
She ate the last berry in her hand. “I should leave to my bed now.”
Fletch wasn’t sure if it was a question or a statement. Though he had never kicked a lady from his bed, he had always preferred to sleep alone. But a distinct jolt flew up his chest at the thought of her warm, naked body crawling from his bed.
His hand tightened around the side of her hip. “Or you could stay.”
A smile, almost shy, crossed her face. “You would not mind? I had grown accustomed to sleeping with my mother and sister in one bed. But the bed at the boardinghouse was lonely and cold. I never slept very well there.” Pulling the coverlet and sheet down, she slipped her legs under the bedding, her calves sliding down the length of his body. She snuggled her cheek onto the crook of his shoulder. “This is nice. You are far warmer and much more comfortable than an empty bed. I missed this.”
Fletch’s fingers curled into the bottom strands of her hair. “Please tell me sleeping with your mother and sister was nothing like this, or I shall die of serious wounds to my ego.”
She laughed. “You are nothing at all like them. You are immensely better naked, and I can only dream on wicked acts with you. Besides, you will not die. You promised me that.”
Fletch stiffened. Talia didn’t notice, already reaching into the bowl on his chest for more berries.
Had he promised her that? Directly? He thought he had skirted the exact statements about death.
Hell.
Maybe he had promised her.
If so, he was beginning to wonder if the whole of this had been a grievous mistake on his part.
His arm tightened around her back.
Not that he was ready to correct—or give up—the mistake quite yet.
Balancing the pile of berries on her hand, Talia attempted to single-handedly drop them into her mouth. Three blackberries rolled off the pile onto Fletch’s chest and then down along his neck. Fat streaks of juice came with them, stripes marking his skin.
Chuckling, she wedged herself up onto her elbow and dropped the ones in her hand into the bowl. Fishing the three rogue berries from the crook of his neck and shoulder, she tossed them into her mouth. A smirk
lined her full lips as she chewed, pointing to his neck. “May I? It would be sacrilege to waste even a drop of these. How you procured them at this time of year is beyond me.”
Fletch shrugged. “If you must.”
She leaned down, her lips finding his neck, sucking, remaining far too long in one spot, and then her tongue dragged across his skin, lining his neck. Fletch felt himself grow hard again, and he adjusted the sheet pulled across his waist.
Distraction. He needed a distraction. She would be far too sore to take him on again.
She popped up, her eyes twinkling at him. “It dribbled quite a bit down your neck.”
“I could feel that.”
She grinned. “We are doing a lot of feeling today.”
“It would seem we are.”
Her eyes glanced down to the sheet at his waist. “Is it appropriate to ask for more feeling?” Her look ran up his body, landing on his gaze.
Lusty. A temptress, pure and through.
Fletch groaned, his cock straining, refusing to be ignored. Picking up the bowl from his chest, he set it on the side table. “You are sore.”
She smiled, lascivious wickedness lining her eyes.
He sat up, grabbing her wrists and flipping her onto her back, his face hovering above hers.
“Do not make judgements on my person, Fletch. I am perfectly capable of anything at the moment.”
He kissed her hard, leaving no ambiguity about what they were about to do. “That you are, Talia. That you are.”
{ Chapter 9 }
Her arms crossed, her fingers tapping on her elbow, Talia paced over to the study window once more to look past the gardens to the mews. Only several flickering lanterns lit the darkness. No movement.
Where was Fletch? He should have returned hours ago.
Her fingertips lifted, touching the glass to feel the cold seeping in. Cold she should be feeling. She should be with him, doing everything possible to find her sister.
“You should be sleeping.” Fletch’s sudden low voice made her jump.
Talia spun. Fletch was whole—rumpled and tired—but whole. She hadn’t realized until that moment her worry had included not just her sister, but Fletch as well. “I did not see you come in.”
“My driver dropped me at the front walk. I told you not to wait for me.”
She sped across the study to him, picking up and handing him the glass of brandy she had poured for him an hour ago. “You knew even when you said those words I would not listen to them. I would have disguised myself as a man and accompanied you to that club tonight if I thought I could have managed unnoticed.”
“I am thankful for small favors, then.” He lifted the glass of brandy up to her. “Wifely attentions already?”
“Why would I not have a tumbler ready for you?” She swatted at his chest. “Do not dawdle. Was he there? Why did it take so long? What did you learn?”
“He was at the club.” Fletch took a sip of the amber liquid. “I had to wait until Lord Drockston was deep in his cups before setting myself next to him. And then I had to lose a good deal of coin to him to get his attention.”
“So what did you discover?”
“Lord Drockston has the girls he is done with delivered to Rupert Redrock. He sells them, recoups some of his costs.”
“Redrock?” Talia blanched, stumbling a step backward as her arm clasped the front of her belly. “But he—he rules the eastern end of the rookeries.”
“You know of him?”
“I have heard his name. Heard the women in the brothel discuss him. Many worked for him.”
“Yes.”
Her eyes went wide, her voice shaking as she recalled all of the snippets of conversation she had overheard. “He…he is not kind, Fletch—a cutthroat—ruthless. That is how they spoke of him.”
Fletch’s eyes flickered, and Talia could see the unease in his look.
He shook his head. “It does not bode well that she is currently in that den of depravity, Talia.”
She stepped to him, her hand going to his chest. “So I need to go there. Find her.”
“Talia, your sister…” He hedged his words, his voice careful. “She was sold at the Jolly Vassal, and now—if she was sold into Redrock’s clutches.”
Her eyebrows drew together as she looked up at him. “Yes?”
“Have you thought about how your sister will be...affected by all of this?”
“Affected? What do you mean?”
“I mean I do not know if you are prepared for what you will find when we recover your sister. What has become of her. The state of her mind, of her person, with the damage that has been done to her.”
Her hand shoved slightly on his chest. “She is my sister, Fletch. Nothing has become of her.”
“Talia—”
“No. Do not even—I am heartbroken I failed Louise—I got here too late. I failed her by two days. I cannot even imagine what she has gone through, Fletch.” Talia spun from him, going to stand before the fire, her arms wrapping around her body. “But she is still my sister. No matter what. That has not changed. And I will move heaven and earth for her if I have to.”
She looked over her shoulder at him. “If you think her now a lesser person, Fletch, then I cannot have you near her, near me, when she is found.” Talia looked back to the fire. “Maybe even now we need to end our business together.”
“You are my wife, Talia. Our business is nowhere near to done.”
She heard the clink of the glass being set down, and Fletch moved behind her, his heat inundating her space. “I do not think less of her, Talia. But I do not want you believing you will find your sister as you once knew her. I need you to be prepared for the harsh truth of how she may be now. The reality of what has happened to her.”
Talia fought against his words.
He was only telling her what she knew, yet didn’t want to acknowledge. But it stung. She wanted to hold onto the hope that her sister was unscathed. Still innocent. That Louise had somehow survived the past weeks without irreparable harm done to her mind or person.
Fletch’s hands landed on her shoulders, his fingers sliding forward to press into her flesh. “I know you want to, but we cannot go tonight. It is only hours until daylight, and we know nothing. I will find out all I can tomorrow. And then, armed with knowledge, we can search for her tomorrow night.”
Talia nodded, silent, her chin dropping to her chest.
“We will find her, Talia. Do not lose heart.”
~~~
The three street urchins slipping into the alleyway behind him, Fletch motioned for his driver to stay in his perch.
“Home,” he said.
His hand reached the handle on the carriage door and a split second of dread shot through him as he wondered if Talia would still be sitting inside, waiting.
She had insisted on coming along to talk to Fletch’s bow street runner, and when the man had directed Fletch to the three boys several blocks from Redrock’s main brothel, Talia had refused to be let off at his townhouse. He didn’t have time to waste arguing with her if he was to reach the boys before nightfall, so Fletch had begrudgingly let her accompany him as long as she swore to stay in the carriage with the curtains drawn.
But he did not put it past Talia to sneak out on her own and go wandering the streets in some fool-headed search for her sister. His wife had an aggravating lack of concern for her own safety.
He opened the coach door with an exhale of relief to see her sitting there, and he jumped up into the carriage. Her eyes whipping to him, she almost leapt up the second he gained his seat. Instead, she stopped herself, perching on the edge of her bench. The carriage started moving.
“Tell me.”
Fletch pulled the curtains open and settled himself, taking one moment to breathe. “There are three brothels that she could have been placed in. The Pink Filly, Oak’s Pleasure, or The Surf Oasis. She is in one of them, those little pups assured me.”
“Can they be trusted?�
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“They run for Redrock. But Redrock just killed one of their brothers, so they are none too loyal at the moment.”
Talia slid backward on the bench, nodding, her mind obviously churning. “Then I am going to work for the brothels. It is the way in.”
Fletch leaned forward, shoving aside the fabric of his black great coat that had tangled about his legs. “Like hell you are, Talia.”
“Fletch, it is the only path to get inside the brothels without arousing suspicion. I can search the rooms. This is the fastest way to find her.”
“Absolutely not. I am not letting you near those hell holes.”
His glare didn’t give her the slightest pause. “Fletch, truly, do not be stubborn. You do not know what my sister looks like. A maid moving about with chamber pots is the smartest plan.”
Fletch shook his head, his teeth gritting. “Aside from the obvious lack of safety, I do not want you hauling shit, Talia.”
“I will go to any depths, remember that, Fletch?” Her eyes flashed defiance. “And this is the safest way for me to search for her.”
“Except you are not searching for her. I am not allowing it. You are my wife and it would bode you well to remember that.”
Her shoulders snapped back as her eyebrows stretched impossibly high. “Bode me well? I did not become your wife so that you could control me, Fletch. Do not make that mistake.”
“It is not a mistake, Talia. It is me keeping you safe from harm whether you like it or not. I will go into the brothels. I will find Louise.”
Her scowl jerked off his face, her look landing on the window.
Just when Fletch thought the matter settled and his wife was adhering to his wishes, her mouth opened, her voice calm.
“Let it never be said that I have been dishonest with you, Fletch.”
He eyed her, suspicion settling heavy into his belly. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“Ask me what I am going to do when we get home, Fletch.”
Fletch paused, the air dangerously thick between them before words hissed out of his tight lips. “What are you going to do when we get home, Talia?”
She looked at him, her hazel eyes skewering, but her voice serene. “I am going to darken my hair. I am going to bind my chest. I am going to steal a maid’s uniform. And I am going to one of those brothels the moment you leave the townhouse to search for my sister.”
Promise: A Lords of Action Novel Page 11