by Bec McMaster
"We’re not?"
Charlie wrapped her legs around his narrow hips, and rose, water sluicing down between them. "No," he said, striding for the stairs. "We’re not. I want a bed. I’m not rushing a damned thing. Not tonight."
Charlie grabbed Lark by the hand and led her upstairs. Clad in towels and leaving damp footprints on the timber floors, they managed to avoid anyone else until they reached his room.
He didn’t let go of her hand until they were inside and the door closed.
"About what happened before—"
Lark whirled on him and shoved him back against the door. The breath slammed out of him, but he trapped his protest behind his lips as she let go of the towel. It slid down her body, and suddenly she was naked.
Whatever nervousness she’d held in the pool was long gone.
Those hazel eyes gleamed, and suddenly his breath was trapped in his throat again.
"What happened," she breathed, tugging the towel from around his hips, "was just the beginning."
She went to her knees in front of him, all sinuous curves, glittering eyes and lean muscle.
A mysterious smile lit over her mouth. "I feel like I owe you one. And you know I hate being in debt."
Charlie's mouth went dry as her fingers stroked up his thighs, disturbing the hairs there. "Trust me, it was my pleasure."
"Well, now it's about to be your pleasure again."
His erection jutted boldly in front of her. Lark's gaze dipped, and he had the sudden feeling he couldn't breathe. That he'd never be able to breathe again. Her hand found him and she wrapped curious fingers around his staff, sliding her fist up and down once.
Fuck. He slid a hand through her damp hair, fisting a handful of it as her breath whispered over him.
"Lark."
A plea.
"You weren't the only one paying attention when you stole Miss Jasmine's garter," she whispered, and before he could reply, the hot caress of her mouth swallowed the tip of him.
Charlie's head arched back, and he thrust into her cheek as Lark’s mouth worked him wetly. Her tongue circled the head, darting into the arrow-shaped groove just beneath the tip, and he swallowed.
Mother of… Mercy.
He suddenly had some understanding of what she’d felt like in the pool when he’d laid waste to her inhibitions. His balls tightened, and Charlie’s eyes widened. He’d been on the edge of arousal for hours now, and this was too much.
He was this close to losing all control....
Dragging her to her feet, Charlie captured her mouth in a kiss, sweeping her up into his arms. Lark's thighs wrapped around his hips as Charlie strode for the bed.
"I hadn’t finished yet!" she protested.
"Well, I was about to." He growled. "And while I would love to let you explore further—really, anytime you like—I want to be inside you."
He set her down. What he needed was control, because Lark had had him wrapped around her little finger for years, and if he gave her an inch, she’d destroy him. Capturing her eager hands, he held them wide, away from his body.
"No," he growled insistently. "I've waited years for this. We're doing this properly."
"Properly?" Exasperation flavored her voice.
"I want you beneath me," he breathed, pushing her down onto the bed. "And then I am going to kiss every inch of you until you scream. And then...."
"Then?" she asked breathlessly.
"I'm going to make love to you."
Once upon a time, he'd wondered what it would feel like to be in this moment with the girl of his dreams. Indeed, he’d given it a great deal of thought.
But as he knelt on the bed over her, he realized dreams could never compare.
Her chilled skin prickled when he settled between her thighs. Lark dragged her fingertips up the hard curve of his biceps, her thick lashes heavy and weighted as she surveyed him.
"I love you," he whispered, stroking a strand of hair off her face. "I loved you then and I love you now, and I know I’ll love you forever."
Lark blushed. "Charlie."
"And you love me." He kissed her jaw softly. "You don’t have to say it. I know you do." A kiss to her chin. "You came to Russia for me. You walked right back into your worst nightmare for me."
"I think I loved you from the moment I saw you," she admitted, in a very small whisper.
"What?" He drew back in shock. "You threatened to punch me the first time we met."
"Of course I did. I was mortified! Every time you smiled at me butterflies erupted in my stomach. I could hardly bear it."
He burst into laughter. "Is that why you were so damned prickly?"
"Charlie!" She slapped the heel of her palm against his shoulder. "Don’t you dare laugh."
His laughter slowed as he leaned down and kissed her. Gently. Sweetly. "Sorry. You caught me by surprise. I thought you hated me for months! Well. How about that?"
She’d loved him from the start.
It put every single one of their past encounters into a new light, especially now he knew the truth about her past.
She’d always been prickly and defensive, but he suddenly saw straight through her.
A little girl who’d longed to be loved.
A little girl who’d lost her family, lost everything.
She was still that little girl in some ways, hiding her need to be loved behind walls of steel. She would never reveal her heart first, but that was all right, because he had no qualms. He was not afraid of the way he felt.
He would have to tell her every day how much he loved her, until she started to let down those walls.
He’d wanted to ruin her again, but suddenly, the urge to kiss her mouth came over him. This was not just about physical pleasure, but the sweet, unfulfilled longing between them.
Lark softened beneath him as every inch of their bodies pressed together. There was heat there. Demand. But also the sweetness of the moment as he tried to tell her with his kiss how much she meant to him.
Fingers dipping between her thighs, he found her wet and shuddering.
Charlie adjusted his erection. Sudden nervousness clamped a clammy hand on the back of his neck. He knew how this worked, but the heated slickness of her body beckoned and he didn't want to hurt her. Didn't want to ruin this.
Lark dragged a hand down his back, her nails digging into his ass. "Please," she begged.
Closing his eyes, he pressed into her. She was so wet he gained several inches before her body clamped down around him in shock. Charlie froze, resting on his forearms. Then she was softening beneath him, her body opening to him. So fucking tight. He ground his teeth and rocked forward another inch, burying his face against her throat when pleasure gripped him with hot hands.
"Fuck," he breathed.
And Lark laughed, her body locking in a spasm around him as if the laughter shivered all the way through her. She sobered, her hips arching to meet his, her legs wrapping around his narrow waist. "All the way."
Charlie buried himself to the hilt, his vision going white behind his closed eyelids as Lark sucked in a small breath.
"Are you all right?" he whispered, though he wasn't bloody sure what he'd do if she wasn't.
"Fine," she whispered back, her nose brushing against his. "I am made of sterner stuff than this, Charlie Todd. And I want you. All of you."
"Forever," he dared to say, opening his eyes.
She lifted her mouth and licked his lower lip, and Charlie leaned down to capture a kiss.
It all became so much easier.
His body rocked back and forth as he slowly dragged her into drugging, lurid kisses. The kind of kisses he'd always dreamed of giving her.
He wanted to live forever in this moment, his hips gliding slowly, but the pressure was mounting. The next thrust came a little harder, and fuck, but that felt good. Lark moaned, her nails digging in, hard enough to leave an imprint. That felt good too.
Tucking her leg up against his hip, he tried to make her feel this
too. As the base of his cock ground against that sensitive little nubbin that had given her so much pleasure earlier, he saw her eyes widen and felt her body clamp down upon him.
There.
Lark's spine arched, and her body clenched around him as she made a low, moaning sound in the back of her throat.
Clutching her hip, he drove into her a little harder, and her teeth sank into her lower lip. He'd spent so many hours wondering what it would feel like to finally be inside her, and the reality was so much more than he'd expected.
Again. She liked that. He felt her body squeeze tightly, her teeth pressing so tightly her lower lip was white. Charlie arched his hips, grinding over that one little spot.
"Charlie," she gasped.
The muscles in his throat and arms locked as he fought to hold his own pleasure at bay. "Scream it."
"Oh, God." Her fingernails dug into his back, and she threw her head back as her entire body clamped down hard.
Permission, finally, to lose himself. Charlie drove into her, again and again.
He came with a gasp, hips jerking through the aftershocks and his body trembling. All the energy flooded out of him, and he collapsed atop her, trying not to crush her. Gasping for breath. His mind racing.
Lark's hand caressed the back of his neck, her fingers tangling in the damp strands of his hair.
"So," she whispered, biting her lip as he eased his weight off her. "That happened."
Nobody had told him it would be this messy. He grabbed his towel and wiped himself with it before offering it to her. Lark was giggling in an utterly un-Lark-like way, and he couldn’t help smiling as they tangled together, hearts pounding and bodies sated.
"I’m never letting you go now," he whispered, and the look on her face was one he'd treasure for the rest of his life. "I want you to know that."
Chapter 24
"How disappointing," Jelena said, as Malloryn lifted his head from his chest to look at her. "I'd expected... more blood."
Pushing to his feet slowly, he feigned a tremor. "Perhaps you underestimated my strength of loyalty. I will not harm her."
Both Dido and Jelena watched him through the bars of the cell, though Jelena paced like a hungry tiger and Dido merely looked bored.
"We shall see." Jelena snapped her fingers to one of the guards. "Open the cell."
The latch clicked, and the gate swung open.
Ava scrambled to her feet as Jelena strode inside. "Malloryn?"
He edged closer, wrapping the chains around the fist he kept tucked close to his leg.
"Jelena," Dido barked. "Don't be a fool. Wait him out. He cannot last for long."
"I will show you loyalty," Jelena replied. She drew the knife at her hip and strode directly toward Ava. "If I want blood, I'll have to take it myself."
"Wait!" Malloryn threw himself at the end of his chains.
The guards at the door pressed a button and something in the wall began to groan. He was hauled up short, and then yanked backward as the chains retracted into the wall. Hitting the ground, he felt the barely healed skin of his back scrape across the cold stone floors, but none of it mattered.
"Yes, Malloryn?" Jelena purred, grabbing Ava's chin from behind and setting her knife to Ava's throat. The blue blood scientist was no match for a rabid dhampir. "Do you have something to say?"
He saw the merciless gleam in her eye.
She would do it.
Just because it would drive a knife through his heart.
Ava gasped, and stretched up onto her toes. "Please don't hurt me."
No amount of begging could sway this.
"If you leave her unharmed, I will give you what you want," he said, hoarsely.
Jelena dragged the knife down to the bloodied lace of Ava's décolletage and rested the tip against her heart. "You misunderstand. You are giving me what I want. I want you to suffer, Malloryn. I want to cut your bloody heart out of your chest with a rusty knife. I want every single breath you take to hurt. And I think I've finally found the means to hurt you, haven't I?"
He only had one shot at this.
There was no way to stop this, no way to fight, except to surrender. "If you kill her, then yes, it will hurt. But I can give you something Balfour wants more than this."
"I'm listening."
He forced the words through his teeth. "Balfour wants me broken. He wants me shattered. Well, I can give him that. I will kiss his boots if he so wishes it. I will crawl at his feet and beg forgiveness for ever daring to touch what is his. I will let him parade me on a leash around the court and bow to his every whim. All you have to do is let Ava go."
Jelena's eye narrowed. She wanted blood, he could see it, but the idea of seeing him humbled also appealed.
"You will grant him anything he demands?" Jelena finally asked.
Malloryn slumped to his knees. "Only if you don't harm her."
"You see, Dido," she threw over her shoulder to her compatriot. "I told you I could find the right buttons to push."
Dido said nothing, merely watched him with those implacable green eyes. "We shall extend your offer to Lord Balfour. Her fate lies in his hands."
But Malloryn knew he'd won, because there was nothing Balfour desired more in life than his abject humiliation.
However, Jelena wasn’t finished yet. "Prove it," she said. "Prove you are ready to surrender."
His pulse thickened in his throat. "And how would you like me to do that?"
"Open the doors, Dido."
"Jelena," she warned.
"Malloryn wants to prove he is willing to do anything."
The door swung open, though Dido didn’t look happy about it.
"Walk through the door, Malloryn. You’re going to walk up those stairs, and you’re going to open the Iron Maiden, and you’re going to get into it."
A chill burst over his skin.
Not this.
He wasn’t certain if he could do this again.
"Malloryn?" Ava whispered.
He looked at her, with her frightened green eyes and her nervous hands clutching at her skirts.
It was different this time. The Rogues had come for him. He had to trust them. He had to hope. And he wasn't strong enough to defeat both dhampir. Not in this condition.
"As you wish," he said coldly, and forced himself to limp toward the door.
Sunlight drenched the pair of them.
Charlie traced small circles over Lark's bare back as she dozed atop him, her cheek resting on his chest and her hair draped across him. He'd been awake for an hour, but he didn't want to move and wake her.
Last night had been the culmination of all his dreams, and yet there was something to be said for the lazy satisfaction of waking up with her in his arms like this.
Lark shivered as his fingers tiptoed down her spine. Slowly, she lifted her head, eyes blinking sleepily.
"Good morning," he murmured.
"Someone looks pleased with himself," she grumbled, rolling off him and dragging the pillow over her face. "How can you look so cheerful so early in the day?"
She'd never been an early riser.
He burrowed his face under the pillow and pressed his lips to the tip of her nose. "Because some woman ravished the hell out of me last night and I feel utterly fantastic."
Her eyes blinked open. She blushed.
"If I recall correctly, I was the one being ravished. I have the bite marks to prove it."
He tossed the pillow aside, and Lark groaned, dragging the sheet over her head. He hauled her into his arms, letting her stay buried. "Did you know you become quite primal when someone tries to lay hands on me?"
"I do not!"
"No, I quite like it," he said with a laugh. "I thought you were going to punch Lady Kirinov in the face when she grabbed me by the balls." He rolled onto his side. "Thank you for protecting my virtue."
"You were in a difficult position," she growled. "If you shoved her away from you, then you'd have broken our cover. And I could tell
you were struggling. You'd never hit a woman, but I could. Your sense of chivalry's going to get you killed one day."
"And how do you feel about what happened afterwards?" He knew she didn't kill lightly. The first time she'd cut down a man from one of the slasher gangs who haunted the East End, she'd shrugged it off, but he'd found her casting up her accounts in the gutter several streets over.
Lark snuggled into his chest. "I don't really want to talk about it."
"You can if you want. You know that, right?"
She nodded, her finger tracing small circles around his nipple.
"It's the thing I like most about being with you," she whispered. "I always felt like I could talk about almost anything with you. You always listened. It was hard...."Charlie trailed his fingers up her spine, waiting for her to continue.
"After what happened to my family, the most difficult thing was not being able to speak about it," she said softly. "It was too dangerous, for you never knew who was listening. Some men were asking questions about Tin Man in Copenhagen, and we had to leave everything behind. I don't even know if they were Sergey's men or not, but we always had to presume they were. Everywhere we went I was looking over my shoulder. The only place that felt safe was the rookeries, but even then.... Even then I had to play a part. I was allowed to be Lark, but I could never be Irina ever again."
"I had a small taste of that when Vickers murdered my father, and Honoria fled with us to Whitechapel. I hated being trapped in that little slum, but I didn't dare leave the house. I've never felt so alone in my life. Honoria was doing everything she could to try and cure the craving, and all I wanted to do was be normal again."
"Exactly." Lark lifted her head, her smoky hazel eyes locking on his. "You don't speak about that part of your life very often."
"Ever," he pointed out with a wry smile. "I never want to even think about those six months ever again."
Lark stroked his lips, tracing the curve of his smile. She knew the story. Everyone in the Warren knew the story. The craving was a dangerous disease. Day by day his body had been weakening, craving blood, and he'd been starving it in his quest to stay human.
The problem was, the blood thirst never weakened. It only got stronger, and he'd had two sisters in the house.