Lust

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Lust Page 9

by Charlotte Featherstone


  “Release me,” she gasped.

  No, he couldn’t. Even if he wished to, his movements were no longer his own. Lust was beginning to rule him now, to become separate from the fey. “Chastity,” he murmured as his mouth descended to her neck. “You know not how you tempt me.”

  “Release me at once, sir!”

  The shrillness of her voice cut through the haze of lust that not only clouded his vision but his judgment, as well. He knew not how to soften her, to make her desire him. He had never met a woman he could not seduce. Until her.

  “Please.”

  Her plea effectively sliced through his conscience. “Forgive me.” Reluctantly he moved away from her. Once he was at a safe-enough distance away from her, he cleared his throat. “There is no need to run from me. Tell me what I can do to help you.”

  “Allow me to return to my garden.”

  Anything but that. She had been here with him for too short a time. He had wasted these moments alone with her by making her frightened of him. He was at an utter loss as to how to go about lessening her fears. How to change that wariness into a burning passion for him.

  No woman had ever been able—or willing—to resist his erotic charms. This woman, who did not appear to desire him at all, was a complete novelty to him. But Thane could say with all honesty that he had never wanted a woman as much as he wanted Chastity Lennox. The thought of her leaving him now gave him a panicked feeling. Him, the fey who had no shortage of women vying for his attentions and body. Automatically his fingers reached for her, pulling her lush body close to his.

  “My lord,” she demanded. “Release me at once. It’s most improper to be alone with you, and in the dark no less.”

  Ignoring her protests, Thane knew what he must do. So he began whispering the ancient enchantment spell into her ear. The moment she went soft beneath his hands, he knew the words had worked their magic.

  She was entranced now, but not completely under his spell. He was only temporarily bending the rules, he told himself, not breaking them. He would not use the enchantment to seduce her, even though Lust, and his own body, were crying out for release.

  Trying to think of something other than sex, Thane reached for her hand. “Let us see the damage, shall we?” he suggested as he helped her to the bench. Carefully she sat down, her hands folded demurely in her lap—a movement he knew came instinctively to her.

  Bel chose that moment to shove his muzzle between Thane’s shoulder and Chastity’s stockinged foot which was now stained red. “Not yet,” he told his hound. Obediently, Bel sat on his haunches and waited.

  “He means you no harm,” Thane murmured as he gently turned her foot inward to examine what he hoped was only a scratch on her ankle. “He remembers you, that is all, and is eager to make friends with you.”

  Her lovely green gaze turned to him, and the full impact of her stare focused on him made Lust begin to rear up again. The enchantment spell had taken some of the fear and apprehension from her eyes, leaving them wide and lustrous—dreamy. It made him think of how she would look after he kissed her, or teased her skin with his tongue. Which made him think of his current position between her thighs—which of course made him think of sliding the layers of taffeta and linen up higher, revealing her quim, which would be at a perfect level for tasting.

  He wanted that, to debauch her with his mouth, to feel her fingers gripping at his hair, her hips calling to him in the ancient female rhythm begging him for more.

  No matter how much he wanted that, Thane could not allow his sin to become the stronger entity. Chastity was vulnerable like this, under this light enchantment he had placed her in. He had only done it in case he needed magic to mend her flesh, or dull her pain—and to ease her fear of Bel. He did not enchant her to take advantage of her. But Lust would not give a damn about that. Lust had no honor. No feeling other than euphoria. Lust, Thane was afraid, had gotten him into all kinds of moral entanglements—all of them affecting his own honor and soul, not Lust’s.

  But Thane had honor. Dignity. And seducing Chastity under the guise of magic was not honorable. Besides, he wanted her to desire him. No woman really ever had. They’d only cried out for Lust, but never, he thought, for the fey prince.

  What would it be like, he wondered to have a woman desire him solely for himself? What would it be like to have this woman? To have more than just sex with her? He’d never experienced that, an emotional attachment with his liaisons. He was suddenly parched for it, friendship and love. Quiet conversation while she lay in his arms. What would it be like to touch without intent to fuck, but rather to simply feel her skin, to bring her close to his body, to absorb her into his soul.

  Gripping her ankle, he looked down at his fingers, which were holding her foot while he tried to forget what he had just admitted to himself. Lust and Thane were synonymous. Never to be separated. Chastity would have to accept both. And…he would have to share her with Lust, no matter how much he coveted her for himself. Would Lust want those tender, intimate moments that Thane did? Would he even allow it?

  Tongue thick in his mouth, Thane noticed that his heart suddenly felt strange, as if it were not beating properly. He must not dwell on things that could not be changed, he told himself. Chastity was to be brought to his world for the good of his court. She was therefore not, in essence, completely his. But God help him, he wanted her to be his—all his.

  Quickly he stole another glance at her, his body tingling with desire. She was so perfect to him. A surprisingly lovely dichotomy of angel and devil. Her body, he thought as his gaze raked over her bodice, was pure sin. Designed for the carnal appetites of men—and fey.

  She caught his stare, and the forthrightness of her gaze made him cringe. He was completely certain that during her perusal of him Chastity Lennox had not experienced one libidinous thought of him—of them—locked in carnalities.

  He truly needed to think of something other than her lovely breasts, and the filmy fichu that had come loose from her bodice. Beneath the expensive lace the cleft of her décolletage beckoned, and he was so close to answering the call. With any other female it would be so easy, but with this one…

  “Tell me, why do you fear animals?”

  Her gaze slid from his face to fix on Bel. The dog pressed in, making her shudder and reach for his shoulder, where she clutched the velvet of his frock coat, making the pounding of his heart beat harder in his chest. Did she not understand the torment she put him through when she touched him like that? Her scent…he was going mad from it. What was it? he wondered as he discreetly inhaled. Angel Water…the perfume was all the rage after all. Every fashionable lady in London was daubing her bosom with the mixture of orange flower, rose and myrtle water. It was a scent used to entice the male sex, an aphrodisiac made to incite the deepest of sexual appetites, but never had the perfume had such an effect on him. Perhaps it was because he had never encountered its heady scent mixed with the fascinating aroma of innocence. It called to him, begging him to corrupt her in all the ways he knew how.

  Fingers on his shoulder dragged his thoughts away. He really was nothing but a beast. A creature controlled by base thoughts and sin. Would he ever be able to give Chastity a semblance of a normal life—a mortal life? Or would it only be about sex and pleasure? In the years since his sin had grown in strength, it had overtaken him, leaving him unaware of who he truly was.

  He had never cared before, but now, strangely, thoughts that were utterly foreign to him began to invade his conscience. He barely knew this woman, yet he desired a deep and abiding connection with her. One that was, yes, sexual. But a bond that was also based on friendship. Closeness. Contentment. He didn’t know when it had happened, but he wanted more. Not just a bed partner but a mate.

  “Sir?”

  Shaking his head, he realized that he had been looking up into her face. Staring at her. Dreaming of all the things he wanted with her, and not one of his thoughts had been for his dying court or the damnable spell that cu
rsed his kind. He was forgetting his purpose here in the mortal realm.

  “You were saying?” he said, making pretense of studying her ankle.

  “You asked me about my fear of dogs.”

  “So I did.”

  He felt a shudder run through her, and then her fingers moved from his shoulder, only to graze the strands of his hair that had blown free of his queue. It was his turn to shudder at the innocent contact. Thankfully, she was entranced, and unaware of his wayward thoughts or de sires. Had he not entranced her, he would not have had this time with her, unguarded and vulnerable.

  “When I was a child, a dog…of this size knocked me down. He…bit my arm, then began to drag me by my leg. I’m certain he intended to tear me apart.”

  Bel’s tongue was lolling to the side as he panted. When he licked his lips, Chastity made a small whimpering sound and pressed closer to him, clutching him as if he were her savior.

  “I…I can still feel its teeth tearing into my flesh.”

  “Shh,” Thane whispered. “You need not recall such a painful memory.” He reached for her face, and she surprised—and delighted—him by placing her cheek into his palm. The enchantment, he reminded himself.

  This was not the real Chastity, this was one who was bespelled.

  “Sometimes I awake in the night, screaming, remembering what it was like to feel its teeth in my skin, my body being dragged away.”

  “You are safe here with me, Chastity. I will not allow anything to harm you. Not even your nightmares.”

  Skimming his fingers along her cheek, Thane absorbed the feel of her petal-soft skin, imagining what it would be like to experience her curved body pressed against his. It would be thoroughly arousing. But would it be as satisfying as this very moment, with her clinging to him and him protecting her from a frightening past?

  Women had sought him out for pleasure, but never for sanctuary. He had never been called upon to protect a mortal woman—to keep them safe. To hold them till the storm of fear had passed.

  As Chastity looked down into his face, her fingers still clutching steadfastly to his shoulders, Thane wanted more than a sexual connection with her. He wanted her trust. To be the embodiment of a knight in shining armor. It was ridiculous, but he wanted something more out of his union with his virtue.

  Breaking the spell of her eyes, Thane examined her foot and concentrated on what he was supposed to be doing. “I vow to you, Chastity, on my honor, that Bel will not hurt you—ever.”

  The white stocking was saturated, torn at the ankle with a fresh trail of blood flowing from beneath the tattered silk. With trembling hands, Thane slid his palm up higher on her calf, knowing the stocking needed to come off. The wind blew up, carrying the metallic tang of blood on the air, which made Bel whimper, which made Chastity jump and squeak.

  “Be easy, muirneach.” The whispered endearment slipped effortlessly from his tongue.

  “I don’t like the way he is looking at me, as though I were a nice juicy lamb chop.”

  Despite the gnawing tension he felt, Thane could not help but smile and laugh at her jest. “How did you know that lamb is his favorite?”

  She watched Bel warily. “He seems the sort of beast who delights in consuming the most innocent of creatures.”

  She had more to worry about from him than Bel, if her fear ran to beasts who consumed the innocent. When he looked up at her, she was watching him, as if she knew of the beast that lurked inside him, the animal that wanted to lower her to the ground and lift her skirts and plunge inside her. It was like that, when Lust was starved. He gave no thought to pleasure or seduction, only the feeling of ecstasy—his own.

  Thane didn’t want that for this innocent woman sitting before him. He wanted her to be writhing with desire, flushed with sexual arousal. He wanted her first time to be decadent, consuming. In Lust’s famished state, there would be no lazy caresses and kisses. No slow seduction. It would be carnal. Fucking. Her first time would be base and animalistic. Not beautiful, as he so wanted it to be for her.

  No, he could not be the beast with Chastity.

  “Do you trust me, muirneach?”

  Her head cocked to the side, and the moonlight glowed around her hair, giving her the appearance of a celestial virgin, which, of course, she was. While he awaited her answer he studied her expression, watched her gently arched brows pucker with concern.

  “I know I should not trust you, but I cannot help it. Something deep inside me tells me that I can. That I ought to. There is a voice there—” She stopped, shook her head and glanced away.

  “What does the voice say?” he asked as he slid his palm up behind her knee. Her breath hitched, the sound a punch to his midsection.

  “The voice,” she whispered, “it speaks of strange feelings. It tells me to crave things that I know are sinful and wanton, and not what I should feel. But my mind tells me that trusting you is folly. That you are not what you appear to be.”

  His nerves sharpened. What could she know of him? He had taken great pains to hide his fey glamour. To appear as nothing other than a titled gentleman. “Who am I, then?”

  Her gaze flickered to his. “You are the masked stranger from the other night.”

  Closing her eyes, she sniffed delicately at the air. “I smell you—everywhere. The scent is dark and seductive, arousing, yet drugging. I feel awakened, yet asleep. It lures me, rouses that voice so deep inside me. It was the same that night, too. I was aware of the same scent, and then you appeared.”

  Hands shaking, Thane slid his palms higher, to her knee, where he felt the satin of her garter brush his fingertips. He was now the one to be entranced. He was charmed by the blissful expression on her face, aroused by her words.

  “There is an erotic masculinity to the fragrance, calling to a place inside me that I didn’t know existed. A place I fear because I cannot understand it.” He watched her inhale deeply of the air. “I remember the scent so well. It is the same now, as it was when it wrapped around me in the maze. Notes of sandalwood and frankincense, mixed with the faintest scent of cedarwood and jasmine. It is the scent of night and moonlight, of forest and forbidden, decadent lands. Even now I can feel it enveloping me.”

  Mesmerized by her words, he slid his palms up her thigh and pulled the ties on her satin-ribbon garter, feeling it unravel in his hand. The next time, he would untie it with his teeth and nip at the ivory flesh above her stocking. But for now, he could do little more than listen to her words, and wonder if somewhere inside her, Chastity longed for pleasure. If she realized how deeply she could connect with her sexual nature, if she would but allow him close to her.

  “It was you last night in the maze, wasn’t it?” she asked.

  Memories of them together, and what he had done to her, must have surfaced, for the pale skin above her bodice began pinkening, giving him a glimpse of what she would look like when flushed with sexual need. He, himself, was now fully ensnared, and Lust…he was practically salivating at the thought of tearing into her skin and sinking himself deep within her quim. But Lust could not appreciate the beauty of her virginity. The significance of it. Lust could only be ruled by his urges, and breaking the barrier is all he would do. Lust, Thane knew, would not take care of her, would not wait to feel the petals of her sex moisten and blossom, unfurling for him beneath his touch. It was Thane and his Dark Fey need to arouse and pleasure that would see to that. It was Thane that would make their first coupling beautiful and sublime—passionate. So damn impassioned that she would think never to spurn him, to live without him. And then, she would agree to follow him to Faery, to his court of voluptuous pleasures.

  “Thane?” Her voice was so soft, a bit husky with wariness, and perhaps desire. “That is your name, isn’t it? You were the one in the maze.”

  She was fully beneath the charm of his spell now. He could do anything he wanted with her and it ate at him, sapping his strength, giving Lust the edge over his iron self-control.

  His hands shook a
nd he glanced at Bel, trying to take stock in something other than the idea of pressing himself atop Chastity. He would ruin it all, destroy her innocence and faith if he were to allow Lust to rule him. He had not waited behind this gate for a day only to destroy it with his unbridled desire for the woman before him.

  When he had discovered the gate, he’d also learned that it was the only place on the grounds or the house that was not warded by the Seelie. Whether they had not known the gate existed, or whether they thought it insignificant, did not matter. Thane had used the fact to his advantage, warding this forested patch to his benefit. Then, with his magic, he’d turned what had been an uninspiring view into the image of the land that surrounded the Unseelie Court. By day, it was a lovely quiet spot full of solitude and trees and a trickling stream. At night, it became a decadent pleasure garden. Even now the vista was changing, the night-blooming flowers opening, releasing their heady perfume.

  He had no idea that Chastity would be so responsive to the garden, to the fragrance of not only the flowers, but his body. He was aroused by the notion, intrigued that an innocent could be so open to the seduction of scent.

  “It was you that night, wasn’t it?” she asked again, cutting into his musings.

  She was under his spell. Anything he told her, he could wipe it away, make her forget if he needed to. “Aye, it was me.”

  “You ravished me.”

  No, he had merely toyed with her.

  Swallowing hard, he focused on her cut foot, not seduction. She was under the influence of magic. It was dishonorable to act upon what was so obviously innocent sexual curiosity.

  But honor only got him so much. It would not do anything for his cock, which was now hard and demanding. Just a glimpse, a touch…

  Raising her skirt, she protested, but he quietly shushed her. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “You’ll like this.”

  Skimming his hand up her thigh, he made small circles there, watched her expression, her wide eyes, the way her tongue came out and moistened her bottom lip. He let his thumb pass over her sex, and she squirmed, her bottom coming closer to his searching hand. “That’s it,” he encouraged. “Part your legs for me.”

 

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