Lust

by Charlotte Featherstone

  “Why, the fey, of course,” her sister replied. “Now, if you will excuse me, I have a letter to write.”

  Mary departed the room, leaving her three sisters behind. “You may be excused,” Chastity said to the two footmen who stood sentry at the dining room door.

  Obeying her, the men took their leave. Now she was all alone with her sisters. “What the devil is going on here?” she demanded.

  “Faery sleep,” Mercy said as she lifted her teacup to her mouth. “It’s a common enough spell in the fey arsenal.”

  “You cannot mean that they have sprinkled pixie dust over Mama’s and Papa’s heads,” Prue snorted. “For heaven’s sake. Mama, thank the Lord, was not in that den of iniquity last night. She could not possibly be under their spell.”

  “What makes you think this is an Unseelie spell?”

  Prue visibly started, then narrowed her gaze upon Mercy. “Because the Dark Fey are cunning, immoral tricksters, that’s why, and because we were forced into their brothel and made to spend hours with them, for their own amusement, and at the expense of our good names and reputations. Not to mention that of Papa’s.”

  “From my reading, that is not how the spell works. A fey must have either physical contact with the person they are putting under their spell, or be given that person’s full name. Since none of the Dark Fey have even laid eyes on our mother, it’s impossible for them to be at the source of this.”

  Chastity flicked her gaze to Mercy’s. “The Seelie then.”

  She nodded. “They have the same magical powers as their dark brethren. And they are not above using it to gain what they want.”

  “And that’s why Mary isn’t affected, because the Seelie want us—the virtues.”

  “I will not believe this,” Prue snapped, tossing her napkin aside and hastily shoving back her chair. “I won’t believe it of them. The Seelie are from the golden court, and those monsters we encountered last night are from the dark court. If there is any malicious spell casting going on, it’s their doing, not Arawn’s—I mean, the Seelie’s.”

  Prue’s face was splotched red. “Everything is so unbelievably strange. I cannot believe I am standing here debating which faery court has bespelled our house. I should not even believe in faeries.”

  “Prue,” Mercy called as their sister stamped out of the breakfast room. “Please don’t be angry with me.”

  “And why are you always so nice?” Prue lashed out as she whirled around to confront them. “Why can’t you see that the Dark Fey will ruin us? They will destroy everything we are.”

  “That is my gift. Kindness. I do see the good in them. They could have whisked us off to their court last night, but they didn’t.”

  “I wonder why. Surely it is not because they possess morals, Mercy. It is because it did not suit them. Why? I have no idea. But I will not stop till I understand why they want us. There is something going on here, something much stranger than us, and the fact that we are to belong to the fey. Can you not feel it? Of course not,” Prue scoffed, “because you are always trying to be kind and understanding. To search for the good. Well, I am telling you, Mercy Lennox, there is nothing good about the Dark Fey.”

  The door banged shut, emphasizing Prudence’s departure. Prudence, who had neither tempered nor restrained her vitriol.

  “It’s not them,” Mercy murmured as she cast her gaze out the window. “I felt the good in him last night. There is good. He could have ravished me, but he didn’t. I even would have let him, and sadly, wish he had tried.”

  Smiling, Chastity reached for her sister’s hand. “There is no need to explain yourself. I believe you. Prudence, on the other hand, cannot see past Lord Arawn. She is smitten, you see, and wants to believe that the Seelie are righteous and virtuous—like us.”

  “They will prove themselves,” Mercy murmured. “I know they will.”

  Mercy rose and left Chastity to her thoughts. Thane was a Dark Fey. There was no disguising how opposite he was in looks and manner to Crom. But despite his Unseelie blood, he had never hurt her, endangered her, forced her to do anything she had not wanted—at least on some conscious level—to experience. But his silence had hurt her. She still sensed that there was more going on than what Thane had told her. He’d wanted her to believe that he neglected to tell her who and what he was because he’d been afraid that she would not accept him. But Chastity knew differently. There was a reason he was so driven to seduce her. It lay beyond his Unseelie desires.

  “My lady?”

  Chastity’s concentration was broken by the arrival of a footman. In his hand was a gold box tied with a black satin ribbon.

  He set the box before her. “This just arrived for you.”

  “Thank you.”

  Chastity waited for the footman to leave before she reached for the tail of the black ribbon and pulled. The bow unraveled, and she set it aside as she carefully opened the box. Inside, layers of black satin hid its contents.

  Her heart was racing as her fingers scraped against a card. Pulling it from the satin, she turned it over to find it blank on either side. Strange. Brushing her thumb over the smooth surface, she gasped, squeaked and smiled all at once as the motion of her thumb caused black ink to appear.

  A Dark Fey always bestows a gift unto his lady—normally a mask, to be worn while in the woods. A symbol of his protection and adoration. But I saw this and knew it would speak to you. Wear this, and allow me to adore and protect you.

  It was signed Always, Thane.

  Thrusting her hand back into the box, Chastity pulled out a silver chain with a black onyx and moonstone pendant hanging from it. The onyx caught the sunbeam, and the stone glistened and glowed, illuminating a little catch at the side.

  Not a pendant after all, but a locket.

  Prying it open, she revealed a perfumed waxed center. Bringing it to her nose, she inhaled deeply, her blood and body instantly warming to the scent—the essence of Thane. The heady concoction she had smelled in the maze. The one she always detected while in his presence. The very perfume that was even now sitting on her dressing table.

  Slipping it over her head, she admired it, the way the pendant dropped low on her bosom. It was a stunning piece of jewelry, but she could not wear it.

  You will wear it, and you will think of me.

  She heard Thane’s command, and found herself with the necklace on. She could not refuse his command, and wondered if this was yet another faery spell.

  At precisely half past four, Crom and Lord Arawn arrived at the Lennox home to collect Chastity, Prue and Mary, and the five of them were off by quarter to the hour.

  The Seelie were nothing if not punctual, and mindful of such things as polite society. As the horses cantered down the street, Chastity found herself wondering about their court. Would it be full of politics and formalities? Despite it being the court of sunlight and gaiety, would it really be just a somber, stiff affair with a golden veneer? And the Unseelie Court. Was it really only darkness and sin? Was there more to it than just a place designed for seduction and sensualities?

  The horses cantered to the left, and the carriage swayed. So too did the locket that was nestled between her breasts. The air moved, stirring up the scent of the perfume. She had used the wax that afternoon, dipping her finger into it and sliding it along her wrists, behind her ears, down the cleft of her breasts. The heat from her skin had absorbed it and now her flesh shimmered where she had perfumed it. In the sunlight that shone through the carriage window, it reminded her of moonbeams on mist.

  Silently, she watched out the window, her gaze averted from Crom, who sat on the bench across from her. He was content enough with her silence, preferring to stare at her instead. She had no idea what his thoughts were, and did not care. She had only agreed to come for Prue’s sake, because her sister was so hopelessly ensnared by Arawn’s golden beauty. But Chastity was not. She much preferred Thane’s dark and mysterious aura. Somehow she had reconciled herself that he was not of her
kind. He was a faery, a dark and sensual one. The truth hadn’t turned her from him. She feared nothing could. He owned her heart now. In between possessing her mouth and body, he had invaded her soul. In the stolen moments of her dreams, when they had been alone in the garden, she had felt a growing closeness to him. It was desire, yes, but something more. A closeness of spirit. A glimpse of what was just beginning, and what happiness they might find together, despite the fact she was a mortal and he a fey.

  Smiling, she thought of that afternoon when she had lain down for a nap, of how they had danced in the garden and the butterflies had flitted around them. She wanted to see his court, to share that with him. She wanted to be part of his life—a frightening but true revelation. Oh, God, she suspected she was already falling in love with him. And there was nothing she could do about it. The only thing she could do was sit in the carriage and think of him, wish he were here with her.

  Hyde Park was alive with black lacquered carriages bearing aristocratic crests and elegantly dressed gentlemen riding prime horseflesh. It was the fashionable hour for London’s best society. It was the time for the cream of society to see and be seen. She watched the carriages that littered the park avenues, all vying for the best positions. It was like watching the plumage of a bird spreading in an attempt to court a mate. These carriages were all here for one of two things—to court or to gather gossip. It was never simply for pleasure.

  There was a sense of forbidden anticipation, a prevailing thought amongst the unmarried women and the courting gentlemen, that the privacy of a carriage ride might just cast enough shadow, or diversion, so that one might steal a kiss, or at the very least, brush hands, without their guardians noticing such wayward behavior.

  Chastity averted her gaze from the carriage window and glanced at her sister, who was acting as her companion who was naturally gazing out the other window that overlooked Rotten Row and the numerous gentlemen cantering atop their steeds.

  “You are in deep thought,” Crom said, breaking the silence between them. Beside her, Prue and Arawn con versed in low tones.

  “My pardon. I fear I am not much company or a scintillating conversationalist this afternoon.”

  “Nonsense. You are obviously consumed with some thing most pressing. Your brow has been furrowed in concentration since the carriage pulled away from the front of your house.”

  “Forgive me,” she murmured. “I am ruining your drive, aren’t I?”

  “Of course not. I am just worried for you. You haven’t slept much, if the circles beneath your eyes are any indication.”

  “I have slept well.”

  “And your dreams?” he asked, his voice dropping low. “Have they been pleasant?”

  How impertinent! She would never speak to Crom of her dreams. Would never tell him of Thane, and what they did in the privacy of the dark.

  “Obviously my sister is not inclined to share her dreams, my lord,” Mary cut in. “She must be persuaded.”

  Crom glared at Mary, then focused his gaze back on her. “Dreams are very personal things, are they not?”

  “They are indeed,” Chastity sniffed.

  “But best shared, do you agree?”

  She stiffened when Crom smiled at her. It was not a smile of mirth, but one of victory. Mary and Crom shared a glance that Chastity could not interpret.

  “I had a dream last night,” Crom said as he leaned in and caught her gloved hand in his. “You were dancing with me, and you had a gown on made of gold and silver.

  You sparkled in the candlelight, just like a queen.”

  “I believe, sir, that this conversation is best left alone.”

  Glancing away, Chastity resumed watching the passing carriages. She could not listen to anything more. She would not go to the Seelie Court. She would not attend any further drives or dances with Crom. Not when all she could think about was Thane. Despite everything that had happened and her worries over what he was hiding from her, she wanted him.

  Even now, she could sense that he was there with her— with them—inside the carriage. She could smell him, and it was not just the perfume. But something stronger. She felt him, his heat along her body.

  I will not let you go to him…

  Chastity heard his voice in the quiet of her thoughts.

  How strange it was to be riding in a carriage with flesh-and-blood people while hearing another’s voice in her head. Did her sisters know that Thane was speaking to her? Did Crom, or Lord Arawn?

  Only you can hear me. Only you know that I am here. Only you know what I am doing.

  She shivered, feeling a touch along her neck then behind her ear. It tickled and sensitized her flesh, making her squirm on the carriage bench. Her body was warming, the place between her thighs melting, aching…

  She heard Thane laugh low in her ear, felt him kiss her skin and heard him whisper, Let me seduce you here. Now. The Dark Fey are so very skilled at this.

  Warmth settled along her thigh as she felt him continue to nuzzle her throat. She felt the hem of her gown and the ruffled edge of her petticoats skim over the top of her heeled slippers. Up and up, she felt her skirts being raised. Gasping, she looked down into her lap, fearing she would find her skirts hiked up over her knees. But curiously she found herself in an impeccable state of dress. There was not a wrinkle or a wiggle of linen to give any indication that she was being ravished by an Unseelie faery while sitting in the carriage.

  Only you know what I am doing, he murmured, drawing her back to what he was doing with his hands. It should make you feel wicked and wanton, knowing you are being pleasured so secretly. It should burn you up, knowing you cannot move nor make a sound of pleasure. You will have to be so quiet, so still. You will have to allow me to explore you, and you cannot protest, cannot move away to prevent me from taking what I want.

  Her lips parted on a silent rush of breath and her lashes closed as she felt Thane’s hand snake beneath her chemise, only to climb up the length of her thigh. Long fingers pressed between her clenched thighs, and she stole a look at Crom and saw, with great relief, that he had turned his gaze once more to the window.

  Spread your pretty thighs for me.

  Trying to rein in her breathing, she inched her knees apart. Immediately his hand sunk between her flesh, his palm cupping her.

  Already wet, he purred. How wicked of you to be yearning for this, me fingering you while he sits across from you, ignorant of what is happening.

  Parting her outer lips, Thane caressed her softly and with aching slowness, building her, until she had to move, had to squirm against the velvet squabs of the bench. Stealing another look at Crom, and seeing he was lost in his thoughts, Chastity flexed her hips, forcing Thane to touch her with a firmer, less teasing stroke.

  Little innocent Chastity, he breathed. Tell me you want this, what I am doing to you. That you want this right now.

  I want it, she answered. I want so much to feel you inside me.

  He sunk his finger deep inside and Chastity had to cover her mouth with her hand to stifle the moan that threatened to escape her. Slowly, he filled her with two fingers, plunging and retreating until she was nearly gasping.

  You want to beg for it, don’t you? You want to cry out loud for me to finish you.

  Please, she begged him, her fingers gripping the soft nap of the velvet upholstered bench. Please.

  The scent of your cunt fills the carriage, did you know that? He can smell it, your arousal, and the way it perfumes the air. Look at him, Chastity, watching you.

  Her head snapped to the right and she saw that Crom was indeed staring at her intently, his gaze straying over her with a liberality he had never dared before.

  It is a pity that you cannot undo the pearl buttons securing the front of your gown. I should like to see his face as you undo your bodice and bare your breasts to him. I should like to see you bare breasted as I have my hand between your thighs. I’d like to watch you cupping them in your hands, bringing them together, offering the
m up to my mouth.

  Her lashes fluttered, threatening to close altogether as she struggled to act as though nothing untoward was happening. Swallowing hard, Chastity fought the image of her hands parting her bodice and freeing her breasts, which were now so swollen and aching from her corset.

  He’s imagining you naked, spread for him. I can see into his mind, and he’s painted you perfectly. But it’s me here with you. My essence glistening on your skin.

  She cast a glance at her décolletage that was spilling from her bodice. It did indeed still glisten. Moonbeams on mist…

  He’s wishing his hand was where mine is now. He’s wondering what this pink silk would feel like against his fingers. He’s wondering how you’d taste against his probing tongue.

  She choked a little then and stiffened. Crom’s violet eyes darkened, his gaze lowered to her lap where she smoothed her hand along her skirt. Stop, she pleaded, reaching for Thane’s hand, which she could feel but could not see. Stop, he knows.

  But he pushed her on, driving her to the brink with his fingers inside her and his thumb circling the bud beneath her hood. She was nearly there, close to release when Thane whispered, The next time the Seelie bastard takes you driving in the park, I’m going to lift your skirts and taste you. Imagine that, Chastity, my mouth buried between your thighs as you talk to him about the weather and the number of carriages passing by. Imagine me there, pushing you on, tasting, sucking, eating at you as he sits before you, imagining what he will never, ever be able to have.

  Release was upon her. Blood rushed to her cheeks. Her gaze locked with Crom as she felt Thane stroking her to completion. How wicked to know she was being touched in such a way while another sat inches away, completely unaware. Like a wanton, she reveled in the pleasure and saw, in her mind, the image of what she imagined her Dark Fey lover would look like, with his head between her spread thighs, his tongue doing to her what his fingers were doing.

  You’re coming. I can feel it. You look stunning with your flushed cheeks. He cannot take his eyes from you. Look at him, Chastity, and know who it is pleasuring you.