Jordan Summers - Gothic Passions (Ellora's Cave).htm

by Gothic Passions (Ellora's Cave) (lit)

  GOTHIC PASSIONS

  An Ellora’s Cave publication written by

  JORDAN SUMMERS

  MS Reader (LIT) ISBN # 1-84360-605-4

  Other available formats (no ISBNs are assigned):

  Adobe (PDF), Rocketbook (RB), Mobipocket (PRC) & HTML

  © Copyright JORDAN SUMMERS, 2003.

  All Rights Reserved, Ellora’s Cave.

  Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc. USA

  Ellora’s Cave Ltd, UK

  This e-book may not be reproduced in whole or in part by email forwarding, copying, fax, or any other mode of communication without author/publisher permission.

  Edited by BRIANA ST. JAMES

  Cover Art by CHRISTINE CLAVEL

  To Mom:

  Thanks for everything.

  Acknowledgment:

  Many thanks to my dear husband without whose support, none of this would be possible. Aunt Viney, who I still believe is the best baker on this planet. Thanks N.P. for the inspiration behind the name. Also Edna and Grandma, who I wish could have been here to see this, thank you both for believing… My final thanks go to Allie, Julie, MamaZ and Kelly for taking the time to read this story. I found your suggestions invaluable.

  Prologue

  1812…

  The journey from Oughterard, Ireland to London had been tedious going for Richard Sebastian Stuart, the sixth Earl of Lyon. With vast holdings in Scotland and England, he’d had no trouble having his trusty valet set up points along the way where Richard had been able to seek rest from the encroaching sunlight.

  They’d reached London by midnight, a fortnight after leaving Oughterard. Instead of driving his master to Richard’s town home on Jermyn Street, Hurley delivered him to Caulfield’s in Covent Garden, a gambling den and brothel that Richard frequented while visiting London.

  Hurley stepped down from the carriage and opened the door. “You must eat, my lord,” Hurley murmured, bowing his head.

  Lord Lyon glanced out the carriage door at the stately Gothic Revival style house before him. Its spiraling columns rising high above the cobbles with a discreet portico swathed in white, the building stared out portentously in the darkness. Familiar yet foreign like a discarded mistress. Thick curtains hung in the windows preventing light from penetrating or escaping.

  Richard grasped a small box, slipping it into his coat pocket, before his gaze found Hurley. “What would I do without you, old friend?”

  The valet smiled, yet said nothing more. He waited for Richard to exit the carriage and then shut the door behind him. “I’ll pull around back and wait.”

  “Thank you.” Richard clasped Hurley on the shoulder in gratitude and then proceeded up the stairs, welcoming the damp embrace of the London air.

  A doorman waited at the top, standing vigilantly outside to welcome customers and keep interlopers away. His blue tailcoat, outfitted with gold buttons, Hessian boots, and buckskin breeches would allow the bruiser to pass for a true gentleman in the cover of night. Only gentlemen of Richard’s breeding knew the difference. The doorman opened the whitewashed door leading into the foyer.

  “Welcome, my lord.”

  “Thank you for inviting me in, Adams.”

  The man nodded, his polished façade momentarily forgotten, as if he were surprised Richard remembered his name, before quickly recovering. “You’re welcome, my lord.” The man bowed and bid Richard entry.

  Richard smiled and stepped over the threshold. The familiar foyer enveloped him with its deep swathes of burgundy and plush velvet seats. Dark oak paneling covered the walls, lending depth to the masculine domain. The spicy scent of brandy and honeyed tobacco filled the air.

  Richard took a deep breath, immediately locating every warm body in the house. The sound of blood pounding through their veins was like a Beethoven’s symphony to his ears. He licked his upper lip. His mouth watered and his fangs burst forth. He hadn’t eaten in three days and was famished.

  Richard unerringly located Madam Josephine amongst the young Corinthians by following the cloying scent of her lavender-water perfume. He approached and stood at her side. Her perceptive brown eyes never left the card tables, while she spoke.

  “It’s so nice to see you again, my lord.” Josephine offered her gloved hand to Richard. “We’ve missed your company.”

  “You are too kind, madam.” Richard bowed and brought her hand to his lips, placing a chaste kiss upon her gloved knuckles.

  “I trust your trip went well.” She arched a brow and glanced at him for a moment, before returning her attention to the cards on the table.

  “Positively uncivilized and I shan’t do it again.”

  Her mouth pursed. “I’d hate to lose my best customer. What can I do to make you forget your horrendous journey?”

  Richard’s lips quirked. “The usual.” He spoke low so that the revelers nearby did not overhear them.

  Josephine turned to face him. “Of course, darling, you can have Rose for as long as you like. But an exclusive right is going to cost you,” she purred, pressing her ample bosom closer to Richard’s arm.

  “It always does.” Richard opened his papers without batting an eye and flashed a fortune in blunt, taking care to block his actions from the room at large. He knew beyond a doubt the money would get her full attention. Josephine paid heed to little else. The money would be added to his long-standing account.

  Josephine’s eyes widened to the size of teacups and she giggled. “I do love the rich.”

  Richard laughed at her unabashed admission.

  “She’s upstairs waiting for a client, so you’d better hurry if you want to beat him to her.” She waved him toward the stairs.

  Richard nodded and gave Josephine a quick bow. Hurley had been right to bring him here first. Now to find his favorite, Rose.

  *

  Richard climbed the stairs two at a time, his hunger ferocious. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to be gentle. Luckily after a vampire’s first bite the pain lessoned, soothed by the drug-like balm of his healing saliva and the mental connection that immediately forged. He scented Rose the second he reached the third floor landing. Instead of full-fledged relief, guilt assailed him. She was in her favorite room. Richard grimaced. Rose was nothing if not predictable—like most humans.

  Although unlike most humans, Rose knew his secret, had known it for years. In her tiny domain he could be himself. Richard strode down the hall and then stopped upon reaching her door. Instead of entering, he rapped first. A light airy voice called out from the other side, beckoning him in.

  Richard entered. The small room was a pale pink, drenched in rosy light due to a few well-placed shawls. A fire filled the hearth lending warmth to the chill in the air. Rose lay stretched out on the bed like an Egyptian princess waiting to be fed, dressed in a sheer chemise that did little to conceal her full breasts. Her milky legs poked out, giving him a good view of her unblemished skin.

  Her face lit up as soon as she recognized Richard, her delicate hands flying to cover her mouth. “I fear my eyes are playing tricks on me. Is it really you, my lord?”

  Richard removed his coat followed by his cream-colored cravat. “My dear Rose, I fear it has been too long.”

  She leapt from the bed, crossing the short distance to Richard’s waiting arms. “I didn’t think you were coming back.”

  “Now would I do that to you?” He smiled.

  Rose shook her head, stepping back. “I suppose not.”

  Richard pulled the small box wrapped in lace from the inside pocket of his jacket. “This is for you.” He handed it to her. Rose’s eyes wi
dened. “‘It is but a small trinket to express my apologies for being away so long from such a dear friend. Go ahead, open it.” He smiled again in encouragement, carefully keeping his fangs hidden out of habit. Rose had not only been a bed companion throughout the years, she’d become a friend of sorts.

  Rose tore at the lace and then opened the box. An emerald necklace winked out, its green facets sparkling in the firelight. She sucked in a surprised breath. “‘It is perfect, my lord.” Her hands trembled as she ran her fingertips over the jewels. “You should be giving this to your betrothed.”

  His brows furrowed and he cursed inwardly. “You know very well I have no betrothed. I’ve yet to find anyone who could tolerate my… appetites.”

  “Perhaps this year will be different.” Her tone was hopeful, yet resolved.

  Richard released a heavy breath. “Why do you not let me release you from our agreement?” He knew the answer, but hoped with the passing of time she’d changed her mind.

  Her voice dropped to barely above a whisper. “You know very well I never renege on an agreement.”

  “I know the reason,” he paused. “I’d hoped that by now you’d realize that I’m a lost cause and be willing to move on once your contract with Josephine expires at the end of the month.” Richard latched onto Rose’s mind, although he needn’t have bothered. He didn’t have to read her thoughts to know where they’d wandered.

  She stared unfocused, remembering that day many years ago when a broken engagement resulted in a taint of scandal, leading to her subsequent fall from good society. Her fiancé, Lord William Longfellow, had taken her virtue and then cast her aside, leaving her reputation in ruin. Shamed, Rose’s family immediately disowned her. She’d landed here at Josephine’s, a naïve young woman desperate to get off the streets. The madam had offered her a deal she’d been unable to refuse, housing, food, and clothes in exchange for ten years of her life.

  Richard swallowed the bitterness welling inside him. If only he’d reached Rose before Josephine, things would have been different. She’d have been settled by now with a nice man, living a quiet life. He’d done what he could for her; including making sure her fiancé met a similar financial fate. The man was ruined, turned away from good society just as Rose had been cast aside. He was lucky Richard had allowed him to continue breathing. Killing him had been tempting, oh so tempting, but the thought of him scraping by was far more satisfying. Richard smiled.

  Rose’s contract with Josephine was coming to an end, he didn’t want his inability to find a bride to be the sole reason Rose remained in this establishment. If she’d only allow him to tear up the agreement, but she wouldn’t… her fiancé’s betrayal all those years ago solidified her resolve. He looked up in time to see her eyes focus on him.

  “I created the agreement and I’ll stay here as long as you need me. I will not go back on my word.” Her voice quivered with each uttered word, then as if realizing her true emotions were showing, Rose backed down. “Besides, you promised me a house in the country and that alone is worth keeping my end of the bargain.”

  Richard groaned. “You know very well I’d still purchase you a house.”

  Rose reached up and squeezed the bridge of her nose. “I will keep my end of the bargain. So let’s focus on the positive.” She released the worried skin and once again met his gaze. “I believe this will be the year your luck changes.”

  He shook his head, but said no more. Every year that Richard had attended the Season, Rose made sure to tell him this would be his year to find a bride. He’d been coming to experience the ton’s hospitality for the last ten years off and on, but had yet to find anyone suitable. Richard held out little hope this year would be any different, but he wasn’t about to contradict Rose. This was their normal repartee.

  “Mark my words, you will find her this year, my lord.” Her voice held genuine concern and a trace of hope. “You’ve waited so long. It’s time you were settled.”

  Richard waved her comment away. “Perhaps.” He mused. “For your sake, I hope you’re right. Until then I can spoil you, to assuage my guilt, so indulge me.”

  “Very well.” She grinned.

  He reached out and captured her hand. “I have an idea.”

  “Really?”

  “I know a way to solve both our problems.”

  “Do tell.” She arched a brow, mischief replacing any lingering sorrow.

  “I could always wed you, my dear Rose.” He winked.

  Rose giggled. “I’m afraid I’m a bit past my prime, not to mention socially unacceptable.” She pulled her hand free. “Besides you don’t love me and I don’t love you.” She walked over to a small stand in the corner of the room and reached up to her neckline, pulling a chain from around her neck, a tiny key hanging from it. Carefully she unlocked the curio and slipped the treasure inside, then locked it again. She retrieved a packet of French letters from her vanity, before turning to face him.

  A seductive glint lit her eyes, telling Richard without words that the serious portion of their conversation had concluded. “Same as always…” She purred. It wasn’t a question.

  He smiled, flashing his fangs. “You are a woman after my own heart. Perhaps it’s time you found someone who could capture yours.”

  She grinned and shook her head as if to dismiss his words. “Love is for fools and the young. Fortunately I’m neither.” She licked her lips. “As for your heart, that’s not the part of you I’m interested in right now, love.”

  Rose reached up and tugged at her chemise. With a swoosh, the material floated to the floor. She stood before Richard lushly naked, her pink nipples pebbling beneath his heated gaze. The soft lighting gave a gentle glow to her fair skin. She took a step closer adding extra swing to her ample hips. The russet thatch of curls between her thighs called to him. Richard couldn’t decide what he desired more, to drink from her or to fuck.

  He reached for his breeches and freed the buttons. Rose closed the distance, helping him out of his waistcoat and shirt. She dropped to her knees before him, taking his breeches and drawers with her. He stood calmly as she bared him. Richard lifted one foot and then the other allowing Rose to remove his Hessian boots. Once they were pulled free, she tossed all of the items into a nearby chair, without leaving her position. Rose sat back, resting on her ankles while her eyes locked onto Richard’s erect cock. She growled appreciatively.

  “For me?” She reached out tentatively and tried to encircle his shaft with her hand, but was unable to, due to his impressive girth. Instead her fingers traced the length of a bulging vein and then around the flushed plum-sized crown.

  Richard’s hips bucked.

  Rose sat up and blew a warm breath over his shaft, firing his skin.

  He groaned.

  She smiled wide and then dropped her mouth onto his cock and began to suck. Richard closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying the moist heat and gentle pressure on his staff. It had been too long since he’d indulged in sexual play. He reached out, his fingers sinking into the red curls on Rose’s head. She swirled her tongue around his cock, ratcheting his pleasure up a notch. Richard’s grip tightened as Rose increased her speed. Both her hands wrapped around his thick base and matched rhythm with her magical mouth.

  Richard thought his knees would buckle from sheer pleasure. Without thought, his hands began to guide her, changing the motion oh so subtly until he could thrust with each downward stroke. If he could sweat, Richard’s brow would have been drenched.

  He pumped again and again into her greedy mouth, striving for that elusive orgasm.

  Rose scraped him, whether by accident or on purpose, he did not know. The second her teeth made contact with his cock, Richard came. Fluid spilled from his body as Rose continued to suck. The column of her throat worked up and down as she swallowed every last drop. His breath came out ragged and sharp as his blood pounded in his ears.

  Richard sank to the floor beside her, his mouth immediately seeking hers. He licked and nipped un
til she opened for him, then plunged his tongue into her mouth as ravenous turned insatiable. He dipped and swiped, tasting his own essence. His hands moved of their own volition, pushing Rose back until she lay upon the carpeted floor.

  Then he was on top of her, groping, seeking, and stoking the fire he knew lay within her. He found Rose’s clit amongst the mass of copper curls and began to circle it with the pad of his thumb. Her hips tilted beneath him, encouraging without words and she moaned, inflaming Richard further. He reached out with his free hand and slipped on a French letter, his cock hardening as if she’d never administered to him.

  He sought her cunt and found it drenched to the touch. Richard closed his eyes, humbled by the fact she offered him everything, while he offered her little in return. Guilt slammed him once more, yet he knew he wouldn’t stop, couldn’t stop now. He continued to work her clit until Rose screamed out her first release, then Richard positioned the head of his cock at her entrance and plunged inside.

  Rose cried out again as a second orgasm rocked her. Her channel gripped him as Richard drove in and out, spearing her. He felt the spasms from inside her body. Velvet heat, moist and scorching, he continued to pump inside her willing channel. Richard teetered on the brink of the abyss, another release drawing near.

  As Rose’s body reached for rapture, Richard sank his fangs into her neck and began to drink. Rose convulsed beneath him as they both came again. The coppery tang of her blood washed down his throat, filling his starving body with the nourishment it needed. Richard’s hips pistoned, matching the draw against Rose’s neck. He followed the tide as wave after wave of pleasure washed through him, sending him spiraling into oblivion. He continued to feed until he drank his fill, and then with a swipe of his tongue, sealed the pinpoints, momentarily sated for the first time in days.

  Rose’s eyes were closed, her face a mask of ecstasy. Little tremors shot through her as the last of her body’s releases fired simultaneously. A smile played at the corners of her mouth. Richard kissed her then lazily lapped at her nipples. The turgid peaks sprang to life beneath the rasp of his tongue.