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by A Captainand a Corset


  “Escaping this room isn’t the challenge we need to overcome. It’s getting off the grounds,” Bion offered. “Our best chance will be in the morning, when the kitchen takes deliveries of fresh supplies and the hounds have been called in.”

  “Hounds?”

  Bion nodded. “My jailers were happy to share the details of how Prince Afanasi prizes his dogs. They are trained to hunt as pups and will run anything down at night. A rather helpful habit for keeping serfs on his land.”

  “That’s ghastly.”

  Bion walked to the window and moved the curtain a small amount. He looked down, his expression focused. For once, she was happy to see it because it awakened hope inside her. He dropped the curtain. “So we are here for the night.” He looked past her at the turned-down bed. “And here I thought for certain I would never thank that bastard prince for anything.”

  He shrugged out of his overcoat and her mouth went dry. It really was a foolish response, for they had been together before. But every inch of her skin was begging for release from her clothing, her senses heightened as he moved back toward her.

  “Um… what are you doing?”

  Bion’s eyes narrowed at her question. He opened the first stud on his shirt and then another and another until his shirt was open.

  “Disrobing.” His voice was dark and edged with promise.

  “You’re toying with me,” she decided.

  Instead of the mocking smirk she expected, he cupped her chin and raised her face until their gazes locked. What she witnessed in his eyes mesmerized her. It was hotter and deeper than anything she’d ever seen before.

  “The circumstances have provided me with the rather unexpected opportunity to prove the aforementioned Jonathon Saddler is not the only man who might seduce you gently.”

  “Jonathon never seduced me.”

  “And neither have I.” He leaned down, sealing her lips beneath his. The kiss was surprisingly tender and soft. He didn’t rush to press her mouth open but teased her with unhurried motions until she yielded of her own volition.

  “But I should have,” Bion offered softly against her ear. He inhaled the scent of her hair while stroking his hands down her back. She felt him tugging on the laces on the back of her bodice. They made the faintest sounds as they were pulled free and then he stepped back so he could pull the open garment down her arms.

  “I’ve been very remiss in remembering you are a respectable woman, one who should have been enticed into bed with gentle words.”

  He turned her around, wrapping her in his arms. For a moment, he simply held her, stroking her neck with warm fingers. She shivered, feeling the wave of sensation cresting over her. She was eager for more. He settled his hand over her heart, feeling its accelerated rate.

  “Words I am rather unaccomplished at saying.” He pressed his hands against her sides to release the busk on the front of her corset. The metal closure snapped, allowing her to draw in a deep breath.

  “I don’t much care what you say, your actions please me quite well,” she sighed as she drew in another breath and fought the urge to massage her breasts. “I’ve never been fond of tight lacing.”

  Bion dropped her corset. Sophia settled for rubbing her sides, where her waist had been constricted. Bion brushed her hands aside and took over the duty. She was sure that someone, somewhere would tell her no gentleman should perform such a task, but Bion was a pirate, so it was perfectly fine.

  Better than fine. She let out a sigh and then something that was closer to a moan. His touch awakened the need inside her once more.

  “And let us not forget these…” He cupped her breasts, the thin silk of her chemise offering little protection—not that she wanted any. No, she craved his skin against hers. Blunt, primitive, base, she really didn’t care what upper society might label it. She pressed back against him, reaching for his thighs because standing still was impossible.

  “Let us not forget that I consider myself your counterpart,” she said. Sophia turned and reached for him. Her hand was small against his nape but that didn’t stop her from pulling his head down so she might kiss him. She rose onto her toes, needing to prove that she might initiate as well as receive. This time the kiss was harder, and he responded in kind, his lips parting hers, then his tongue stroking the length of her own.

  Pleasure tore through her. It was like a bolt of lightning and it left behind enough heat to make her frantic to be free of her clothing. The petticoats were stifling, and she reached for the hooks on the waistband. Bion happily pulled one up and over her head once it was free. It crinkled when he tossed it aside, and he grabbed a second one.

  “Are you in there?” he asked as he fought with the third petticoat.

  “Yes,” she answered, and a very soft giggle escaped from her lips. She slapped a hand over her mouth, horrified by the sound, but Bion merely raised an eyebrow at her.

  “There is the proof that I’ve neglected your tender sensitivities. There is nothing wrong with laughter.”

  Her chemise was floating free now, the few lamps in the room illuminating her curves.

  “You’re a pirate.”

  Bion tilted his head to one side and moved toward her. She hadn’t realized she’d stepped back, but couldn’t stop herself from doing it once more. Her belly tightened with anticipation as he slowly approached her.

  “Not all the time.”

  He offered her his hand. In some ways, the invitation was more arousing than the slow chase he’d been giving her. She blushed and fluttered her eyelashes, but she was already moving to meet him. He clasped her hand and pulled her against him. His kiss was hard and demanding, but she met him measure for measure.

  Now that her petticoats were removed, the hard bulge of his cock was impossible to miss. She rubbed against it, impatient to have him inside her once again. He lifted his head, earning a soft hiss from her as frustration broke through her enjoyment of the moment. But he scooped her up, easing her impatience.

  “We are not going to let that fine bed go to waste,” he muttered as he carried her through the open doorway and into the bedchamber.

  “I should hope not. You’d certainly lose standing among your pirate peers if you did.”

  The bed was turned down and the mattress soft. There was a soft scent of wildflowers as she crawled across its surface and faced her lover. He was freeing himself from his trousers, but his attention was on her. Sophia rose onto her knees and fingered the hem of her chemise.

  “I swear you have only to ask me to beg you for your favor and I will.”

  They weren’t flowery words, but from Bion Donkova, they were everything she needed. “I see.” Sophia tugged the silk up to reveal her thighs. His dark eyes were focused on the rising hem. She leaned forward and he shifted, moving his attention to the gaping neckline.

  “Tease,” he accused softly. The bed shifted as he placed a knee on it. His erect cock was clearly in sight now, neatly turning the table on her.

  “Somehow, I doubt Jonathon would have let me see any of his parts.” She drew the chemise up and over her head. The night air was brisk but she was too hot to be bothered by it.

  “I doubt you would have looked to see if any were in sight if you’d been his bride.”

  She shook her head. “No, I would have been put to bed, to await him.” She lay down and reached for the covers.

  Bion tore them back, beyond her reach. “Pirates take everything.”

  She lifted her arms and he came to her. Conversation became irrelevant as they communicated through touch. She needed to feel him—all of him—against her. As playful as their foreplay had been, she couldn’t fend off the frantic need to hold him one last time. It drove her, consuming her as he pressed her back against the bed.

  “I am going to enjoy taking you, Sophia.”

  His voice was low and menacing, but she purred with enjoyment. He spread her thighs, and she lifted her hips to welcome his first thrust. They moved together, giving and receiving, each
trying to touch the other. There was pleasure in every motion and it built until there was no holding back the explosion. Her hands became claws as rapture twisted through her. Her nails dug into his skin while he bucked and drove his length hard and fast into her core. His body grew taut, his seed erupting deep inside her and for one moment, they were as close as two humans might ever be.

  But it was a fleeting moment. Tears stung her eyes when he gathered her close.

  You can cry later.

  It was good advice but her heart wasn’t listening. She struggled against the advance of time and the harsh reality Prince Afanasi had promised her. But a memory stirred, and she laughed softly with it. Bion shifted and raised her face so he might lock gazes with her.

  “Somehow, I doubt that the prince has heard of the policy of killing new Navigators before they fall into the hands of the Helikeians.”

  “I believe he thinks me too smitten to do you harm.” Bion pressed her head back onto his chest. “He’s correct.”

  Maybe some would not have considered his words a declaration, but Sophia knew better. For the moment it was enough. In fact, she was sure she would hear his words in her dreams for the rest of her life.

  He tipped her head up. The light from the outer room cast him in shadow, but it suited the moment.

  “Perhaps you’ll consent to join me in an escape attempt.”

  “How?” She tried to sit up but Bion held her in place. “I know it would be simple enough to use the bedding to climb out of the window, but I suppose you could have done that from the third floor…”

  He chuckled softly, shaking his head. She clearly had been thinking ahead. “I was locked in shackles and chained to the wall. Without your clever little announcement to Afanasi’s staff, escape would have been beyond my doing. You’re a better Illuminist than you realize, Sophia, and more of a counterpart than I gave you credit for.”

  He rose up, turning her over so that he looked down into her face; her back was on the surface of the bed.

  “And as much as I should be focused on your attributes as my colleague, I confess I am far more interested in kissing you until there isn’t a thought left in either of our minds.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of arguing with you.”

  He pressed his thumb against her lower lip as his eyes narrowed. “Yes, you would, Grace O’Malley.”

  He kissed her before she might reply, and true to his nature, the man employed action until there wasn’t a thought left in her head—or his, which pleased her greatly.

  ***

  Dr. Nerval fingered the grooves in the top of his walking cane. The Deep Earth Crystal was carved and set like any ordinary glass cane topper, but he knew what it was. Those he was interested in knew what it was too.

  “I wouldn’t have thought you were a man more interested in listening than doing, Doctor.”

  Jordon Camden stepped out of a darkened doorway and offered Nerval a half bow.

  “What interests me is the production of another Navigator. I am not paying for the possibility that that female is carrying if she spends the night alone.”

  “As thick as the doors are, they might well be arguing.”

  The doctor cleared his throat. “I very much doubt it. They could barely keep their hands off one another in the ballroom.”

  “I concede the point.”

  “Only because you came to make certain of the facts too,” the doctor accused. “You have really no use for either of them. Why are you here?”

  Jordon smiled at the doctor. “I always have an interest in profit, and there is profit to be made here. I promise you I will be bidding against you. But feel free to underestimate me.”

  It would do him no good. Dr. Nerval made his way down the hallway to the rooms he’d been provided. No good at all. He would have the Navigator his actions had created. Failure was not an option. He was a Helikeian and only the best were allowed to survive.

  ***

  Decima Talaska sat at the window of the room she’d rented for the night. It wasn’t modern or even in good repair, but it had a fine view of a tavern across the street. She sat in darkness, so she might watch the residents of the village without their knowledge. It was frustrating not to be able to walk among them, but a stranger would have been noticed.

  Still, there were details to take in—the type of clothing the women wore, the way the men toasted one another, and a hundred other things. It was a skill she’d had since she was a child, noticing details. It was the core of her success as a Hunter Guardian. She saw the little things that so many others overlooked. They might form a trail or, in this case, offer her the opportunity to blend in.

  “Planning to try and replace the morning delivery boys?”

  She jumped and bit back a curse. Lykos was already too sure of himself for her to let him know he’d startled her.

  “Since the prince is planning an auction and seems to enjoy lavish displays, I suspect his kitchens will be taking in supplies at dawn.”

  “We are no match for the number of guards the man has.”

  “Which leaves us trickery,” she informed him.

  “A skill you are accomplished at, I admit.” Lykos spoke in a tone rich with praise.

  He leaned against the window frame and looked out at the revelers below. Decima eyed him warily, far too aware of his presence. It was simply a response triggered from the approaching battle. That was all. And she would not think about it anymore.

  Eight

  A ripping sound woke her. Sophia opened her eyes, but the room was still dark. The candles had been pinched out, but with her altered sight, she could see the residue of light in the room. The ripping came again.

  “Is it time?” she asked, her mind clearing instantly. She should have been tired, but the anxiety of the past day made her far past ready for freedom. “Have the hounds gone in?”

  “They will soon. Get dressed.” Bion tore another strip off a bed curtain and added it to the rope he was making. “Wear something, well—”

  “Besides the petticoat?” she offered as she found her chemise and shrugged into it.

  He nodded, his focus on the rope. Sophia opened the wardrobe and searched through it.

  “Your eyes have finished their transformation.” Bion spoke softly from behind her, a touch of envy in his tone.

  “Yes.” She looked over her shoulder at him. “It’s really quite amazing, I’ll never kick the bedpost in the middle of the night. You’ll see soon.”

  For a moment his hands were still, his attention locked on her. “Thank you.” He knotted the rope again but stopped and looked back at her. “I never said that, but I should have.”

  “Even if it’s landed you on an auction block?”

  His teeth flashed at her as he pulled another knot tight. “Even if it ends with us breaking our necks as we climb out of the window, because I’ll be double damned if I’ll waste the chance you’ve provided to try and escape.”

  There was hope in his tone and his actions. She watched him continue working, then turned back to find something to wear. She’d go out the window in her chemise if she had to.

  She wasn’t going to waste her opportunity either.

  ***

  Decima was frustrated. But at least she was faring better than Lykos. Her partner was currently fighting to maintain his composure as they chased down one false lead after another. No one was sure who provided the morning milk to the prince’s estate. The duty seemed to be passed around like a chore because the prince would decide how much he was willing to pay and there was no room for bargaining.

  “It seems we’re at a crossroads.”

  Lykos angled his head and glared at her. “How so?”

  “We can reserve our funds for the auction or use some of them to provision a wagon and deliver it to the prince’s holdings,” Decima said. “But if we buy the provisions—”

  “We’ll not have enough gold left to defeat the other clients,” Lykos finished.

  He scowled
, but Decima expected her own expression was just as dark. They would have to make a decision and Bion and Sophia’s fate would hang in the balance.

  ***

  Captain Aetos rose early. The maid he’d enjoyed during the night rubbed her eyes, then gathered up her clothing. He stretched and reached for his pants. The sun was just beginning to brighten the horizon. He frowned as he looked back at the rumpled bed. A few more hours of rest would be most welcome, but he wanted to get back in the air by sunset.

  He’d have to commence with tying up the loose ends of his business dealings. Beyond the gates of the main house were the village and a bustling marketplace. Traders came through the village from the Far East as well as Europe. There might even be merchandise from Africa this time of year. The nobility of Russia liked spending their money on treasures, but they rarely left their land for fear of being suspected of treason.

  Surely there would be something appropriate to settle his account with Jordon Camden, even if he didn’t care for just how the man had kept his end of the deal. For a moment Aetos indulged his anger. Jordon Camden had done exactly what he’d said he’d do and not one thing more. He’d tracked Bion and Sophia and given him the information and then sold it to a dozen other interested parties. It was a betrayal, at least to Aetos’s way of thinking. There was one thing Jordon Camden could count on and that was that Aetos didn’t suffer being played for a fool. But he’d still get the man his gift because vengeance was far better when it was unexpected. Aetos finished dressing and checked his pistol before hiding it in the interior pocket of his vest.

  No one need know that Aetos was going to enjoy knifing the man in the back just as soon as an opportunity presented itself. Until then, he’d be finding the gift Jordon had demanded.

  ***

  There was a sharp whistle in the distance. Bion leaned out of the window as the dogs began to bark. They were moving away from the main house; the next whistle came from further away. Bion nodded, his body tensing.

  “Don’t look down.”

  “I’ll look where I please, since these might be my last moments among the living,” Sophia groused.

 

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