He set a gentle rhythm with his fingers, his thumb making lazy circles over her clit, his own erection begging for attention. “That is quite nice,” she whispered as he continued his gentle caresses.
“Very nice,” he agreed. “I’d like to taste how sweet you are.”
She moaned as he found her clit again. She arched against him, pulling herself closer to him, letting his fingers slide as deeply into her as they could. “This is,” she said, before repeating the words again, unsure how to finish what she wanted to say.
Her trembling had become almost violent, the waves of pleasure sending her toward orgasm, and she cried out and tightened around him. His hand stilled, and he withdrew his hand from beneath her skirt.
Lilly didn’t meet his eyes. It didn’t seem possible that the ragged breathing she heard in her own ears was coming from her, but she knew that it must be. “You shouldn’t. We shouldn’t.”
She couldn’t seem to figure out what to say. Still trapped between his thighs and little shivers moving through her, she felt like she was suffocating. She put a hand to his chest and gave him a little nudge.
He stepped back easily, and she slid down off the counter, wishing desperately she was wearing more than just the thin underclothes.
“I’m sorry,” Eli said, his eyes hooded. “I didn’t mean to upset you —”
“It’s alright,” she interrupted, her head bowed. “It’ll be just fine.”
There was another long awkward beat between them, and when she lifted her eyes it was to look longingly toward the bedroom, like she couldn’t wait to walk out of the situation.
Eli gave her the exit she wanted, mostly because he couldn’t stand that she was so eager to forget what had just happened.
He moved away from her and back toward the door. The look on her face was too much for him, and he said to the room more than to her, “I’ll be home tonight.”
Chapter Seven
Eli dragged a hand through his hair as he stumbled out into the daylight, struggling to pull himself together.
He was unbelievable.
It didn’t matter how many times he told himself Lilly was off limits. When she was around, he couldn’t keep his paws off of her.
He needed a drink. More than just one. And a woman. A woman who would make him forget about Lilly.
And he had just the place to find one.
Eli studied the women through a thin haze of alcohol. He’d hoped that the brothel might ease the ache that had permanently set up shop in his loins since Lilly’s arrival.
But, no such luck. He tried to admire the swell of their ample bosoms, the roundness of their asses, and the suggestive flounce to their dresses. Their lined eyes and lips should have easily worked on him; after all, he’d hired them all for a particular purpose and they more than kept their end of the bargain, their rooms full.
But each time his eyes drifted to one of them, he could only think of Lilly. Being there with them actually just made him feel worse.
Right about the time he had that realization was when he started to order the drinks.
Ordering without paying was a sort of novelty, though he knew he was paying the tab in the grander scheme of things, so he didn’t let it distract him too much. He was glad he’d chosen to make the splurge on some decent top shelf brands, and he was thrilled he had hired women who knew how to keep his glass full.
There had been a flurry of activity when he’d first stepped through the door. He knew the brothel had been awfully chatty since Lilly’s first arrival. He’d taken great pains to make sure they were seen together on a regular basis, arm in arm and in public. He had rarely made a social visit, but he wasn’t in the frame of mind to worry about how it might look for him to start.
And now he was here, drinking like a fish. Alone. Angry. And not doing a good job of hiding it.
And his employees were professionals, after all. They saw their in and were all over it.
One girl in a blonde wig and wearing lipstick the color of wine said she’d redecorated her bedroom and asked if he wanted a tour.
He’d politely said no, but for just one moment wondered what it might be like to take her up there and spread her out beneath him. He could get hard, no doubt. He barely had to think about how Lilly’s mouth felt against his and he was straining for release.
But it wouldn’t be the same. And somehow knowing Lilly was just a short walk away made it that much worse.
Instead of following the blonde up the stairs and to her room, he let her drift off, in search of another mark. He ordered another drink, not bothering to let his eyes stay on her shape as she walked away from him.
A delicious thrill swept through Lilly, and from somewhere far away she heard a soft breath and a long moan.
She realized, belatedly, that those sounds were her own as another little shiver went through her.
She was having the most wonderful dream. Eli was over her, his body warm against hers. Hard and soft and all the things a body should be.
He had slipped her nightgown up around her hips and was stroking her like he had when she’d sat on the counter. Her body was responding of its own accord, wet and ready for him. One finger slid against her cleft before two moved into her depths, beginning that slow, lazy rhythm that had brought her so much pleasure before. His thumb flicked easily over the little button of pleasure he’d unearthed and she moaned in response. Loudly.
Which was right around the time Lilly realized she wasn’t dreaming at all. She was actually naked, spread beneath Eli while he made love to her with his hand.
Her head tipped back, burrowing more deeply into the pillow. She should tell him to stop. She knew she should. But knowing she should tell him no and actually saying it seemed to be two entirely different beasts.
Even as she was telling herself they should stop, she was repositioning herself beneath his hand so he would have better access to her, the slickness she had been ashamed of the last time they’d been together something she now recognized as a normal part of being intimate with someone you wanted. She’d just never experienced the wanting part before.
Which may have had something to do with why she continued to let his hands roam over her body, capturing her breast in his hand before moving down toward it with his mouth, his tongue and teeth moving over the swell of flesh and her tight nipple.
She cupped the back of his head with one hand, letting her fingers slide through his hair. The beard he’d grown scratched at the sensitive skin of her chest, at once bringing her pleasure with a side of pain. Her other hand played in the thick down that covered his chest. Brown, she was sure, like his hair.
She hadn’t realized how little he was wearing until her hand had slid down over his chest and down his flat, muscled abdomen. He was, no doubt, the perfect male specimen.
That became only more clear as she let her hand trail lower, running along the top of his underwear. He moaned against her skin.
But that was all she had to give him. She wasn’t sure what else he might like, and she stopped the gentle touches, unsure how to move forward.
She needn’t have worried for long because he reached one hand down between them to adjust himself and rocked into her. He’s exposed his arousal, stroked himself two hurried times before pressing against her, the blunt tip of his shaft sliding easily up around her cleft.
She felt the burning need to please him, and also shame at needing to ask how to do it. Instead she did nothing, and waited for him to direct her.
He pulled away from her chest, positioning himself so he was lying next to her, reaching up with one hand to catch her own and drawing it down toward his arousal.
Her eyes were still heavy with sleep, though she was definitely more interested in what was unfolding before her now than any kind of sleep.
It was dark, but she had the unnerving feeling he didn’t need much more light than he had. “Like this,” he said gruffly, showing her with his own hand before wrapping hers tightly around his
thickness, his hand closing on top of hers, guiding it up and down along his length.
It took just a few strokes to leave her feeling powerful. He was trembling beneath her hand, and she loved the sense of control it gave her.
Now it was his turn to tip his head back, moaning at Lilly’s ministrations. “That’s right,” he said as her breath and hand quickened.
In the next moment, he was pulling away from her, guiding his own engorged sex into her slick channel.
He was slow and patient, letting her adjust to his size before moving in any further. He left her feeling full. Full and vulnerable and incredibly powerful all at once.
When he had sunk fully into her depths, and her breathing had slowed to something resembling normal, Eli began to move in and out of her. Slowly, at first, so he could become used to her feel, and she could become used to him. As she became emboldened by his touch, more excited by their lovemaking, he moved more quickly, until she was a quivering mess, each thrust leaving her more turned on than the last.
He repositioned one leg, and she realized he was treating her as though she’d never had a partner before, as though he wanted to show her how she could serve him better, instead of waiting for her to figure out if she could do it on her own. She appreciated that probably more than she should, but she knew if she were left to her own impulses, it would be a much slower process.
He started to move with urgency, his length moving in and out of her easily. She could hear her own breathing speeding up, a tightening in her core she didn’t understand or know what to do with.
And then he was pumping furiously, each time eliciting a cry from Lilly as he brushed up against her, each time met with nothing other than eagerness.
When she came, it seemed to catch her by surprise. Her body trembled at the release, spasming around him.
He was quick to follow, burying himself deep within her as he came, loving how she clamped down on him, milking the last of his erection from him. He buried his face into her neck, feeling her pulse beneath the surface, her heart still thudding in her chest.
Lilly quivered beneath him, moving her hand gingerly up to his head to let her fingers slide through his hair. Every nerve was still singing, her body still fresh on the high from his touch.
She hadn’t known lying with a man could be like that. She hadn’t even imagined it could be anything close to that.
She’d been married for years, and her husband was the only man she had ever intimately known. When he took her, it had always been for his own pleasure, and she had received very little in the process, except the pleasure that came from knowing it was one night he might not raise his hand to her.
This had been different. Eli had seemed to care about whether or not she enjoyed herself as well.
In the stillness after the passion, Lilly let her hands roam over him, lightly exploring the expanse of his body, the things she hadn’t yet given herself permission to do in the daylight. Her touch was light, sliding over the slope of his shoulder and the muscles of his arms, tracing his long fingers.
Though it was dark, she could make out that his eyes were closed, and she studied his face. The new beard obscured his jawline, but gave him a different kind of fierce quality. The lashes against his cheek gave him the look of innocence you might expect to find in a child, and not a grown man. Especially not one who looked as big and intimidating as Eli.
He had slipped a knee between hers, pressing her body close as though they were still connected, and with her eyes heavy, her hands stilled, and she slipped into sleep, safely cradled against him.
Chapter Eight
The morning sun wasn’t yet up when Lilly woke and began to detach herself from Eli. She’d watched him in the dark for a long while before beginning the process. As gently as she could, so as not to disturb him from his sleep, she unwound his body from hers. She couldn’t wait until morning to use the lavatory, and she certainly wasn’t going to pull out the chamber pot with Eli in the bed beside her.
Her body was sore. Deliciously sore, and each movement recalled exactly what had happened the night before. The first time they’d consummated this thing they were calling a marriage. The first time she had woken next to him and watched him sleep. With a stretch, she slipped from the bed, tugging her nightgown into some semblance of order before hurrying out into the darkness to relieve herself.
The late night air was cold, bringing gooseflesh to her arms and legs. It was easy to forget how hot the days would become during the night, where it was almost chilly enough to see your own breath. Lilly was quick, but still shivering by the time she was stepping out of the little outhouse.
Something about the air felt different as she took her first step back toward the house. It was charged with something new, and Lilly though back to the bear, wondering if he was close by and if he had seen her. That would be just the thing she’d need to explain to Eli, after he had made it so clear that she shouldn’t leave the house in the night.
And then, she saw them, between her and the house, and she was wishing it had been the bear instead.
Anything was better than coming face to face with James. But, unbelievably, there he was.
And he wasn’t alone. Flanking him were three other men. She could see their hands settled on their weapons, still tucked into their holsters.
Fear froze her to her spot. Ice ran up her legs, preventing her from moving even though every cell in her being was telling her she had to go.
But the truth was she had nowhere to go. They were starting to fan out, moving so she had no hopes of getting past them fast enough to get to the front door and safely inside with Eli.
And, what if she were inside with Eli? That wouldn’t stop James. She would just be putting both of them in danger. Maybe it would be better this way. James would take her and Eli would never know what had happened. He would never need to learn the kind of woman she had been before she had become his.
“Lilly,” he said darkly. “You seem surprised to see me. Surely you must know I will always come for my belongings.”
Lilly said nothing. There was nothing she could say in response to that. She’d dreaded that would be the case. She’d done everything she could have to help make it impossible to be found. But it wasn’t enough. She should have known it wouldn’t have been enough. She steeled herself for what would be coming next.
The men flanking him were getting antsy, and Lilly could tell by the way they were looking at him and looking back at her, that they’d been promised something for their trouble. Something that wasn’t James’ to promise.
He flicked the butt of a cigarette to the ground. Freshly rolled. It was the only way James took his cigarettes. And he only smoked when he was agitated. The sharp tobacco odor always permeated the air when he was in one of his rages.
This time was no different. He stalked toward her, grabbing her arms hard enough to elicit an involuntary gasp, and yanking her body toward him. “How dare you disrespect me as you have. You worthless whore.”
Before she could prepare herself, his hand was reaching back, his full weight behind the open-handed slap. Her ears were ringing and her head spinning, her cheek throbbing where it bore the imprint of his hand.
A scream rent the air, and Lilly realized belatedly the sound was coming from her own mouth.
The scramble that followed was confusing. Another loud sound split the night’s quiet, scattering the men who had been behind James. Lights began to flicker on in the brothel, doors swinging open.
One of the men was rushing at her. She had time to process that before he tackled her to the ground. Her head hit the dirt with a resounding thud.
The last thing she remembered was the earth coming up to meet her.
When she woke, she was back in the bedroom. It was oddly dark — like it was still night — but she knew that couldn’t be the case.
But then she started to wonder what she really did know. What had happened? Maybe none of it. Maybe Eli had never come to
her in the first place. It could have all been a dream.
It wasn’t, though. She knew from the way her eye was too swollen to open, from the tender mess that had been her face.
This was a feeling she was used to waking up to.
There was a lit lantern nearby, giving off a gentle glow. As she struggled to open her eyes and focus on what was around her, Eli’s face came close. His brow was furrowed. Concerned or angry, she couldn’t tell, his jaw hard and unyielding.
“Lilly?” he asked, his voice gentle and full of gravel. “Are you alright?”
“I’ll be fine,” she said, finally giving up on the struggle to keep her eyes open. She let them close, resigned herself to being in the dark.
She felt him take her hand, the pad of his thumb moving over the back of her hand.
“You should have told me,” he said finally, the slightest edge of accusation to his voice, his other hand reaching up to stroke her hair.
“I couldn’t tell you.” Her voice was flat, her words emotionless. She hadn’t wanted him to know how lacking she was. And even if she had wanted to tell him, how was she supposed to?
In the end, she didn’t need to. Everything had come together very quickly for Eli, when he’d heard her scream and had launched from his bed out of a dead sleep. It all made a terrible kind of sense. The way she would push down her own feelings. Her overly practiced sense of serenity and disinterest. The way she hadn’t known what she should expect from his touch. It had taken him so long to put it all together, and knowing he had failed her, had let her wade through all of that on her own, left him sickened.
He had wondered what had pushed her into an arranged marriage, and there it was. A man she had hidden from him. A man she had crossed a continent to escape from.
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