by Mia Gabriel
He pounded into me mercilessly, mindlessly, and his shout when he came triggered my own orgasm, too. I thrashed beneath him and bucked with him, my head thrown back and even my fingers spread and trembling with the force of it.
Afterward he held me, both of us panting and exhausted and slick with sweat. He kissed the nape of my neck, another more tender mark of possession, and I felt weightless, as if I were suspended in his arms.
I was his, completely. I was his.
With a sigh he finally withdrew from me, sitting back on his heels, and without his support I slumped to my side, panting. Quickly he untied the silk cords around my ankles and wrists, massaging the places where they’d cut into my skin. He laid me onto my back and gently stretched my aching limbs. I wept, from the sensation of the blood rushing back to my hands and feet but also from the tenderness he was showing me.
I’d almost forgotten the nipple rings until he carefully removed them, too, and I gasped, my hands fluttering up to soothe my sore breasts. Gently he pushed my hands aside and licked each of my nipples in turn, his laving tongue the best balm imaginable.
At last he untied the blindfold, slowly pulling the silk band from my eyes and smoothing my hair back from my face. I blinked, wincing at the sudden brightness of the candles, and then smiled. Savage’s face was all I saw before me, his hair tousled and his eyes filled with raw emotion that cut straight to my heart.
“You’re mine,” he said softly, bending to kiss me. “All mine.”
I couldn’t agree more.
* * *
“Of course you must go to Court,” Savage said late the next morning. We were still in bed, a place I’d decided I’d rather stay than go to the Palace and be formally presented to the king. From the moment I’d decided to come to London, this day had been one I’d anticipated more than my own wedding day. A Court presentation was a significant milestone for anyone, but for an American widow like me the invitation from the Lord Chamberlain was an almost unimaginable honor.
Yet over the last few days that honor had paled and lost most of its allure for me. How could a complicated ritual like a presentation possibly compare to the time I spent here in Savage’s company, in his bed? As the days passed, each minute with him was becoming increasingly precious to me, especially lying curled here beside him.
“There will be so many other women—most of them younger than me, too—that I doubt anyone will miss me at all,” I reasoned, hoping he’d agree. “All I’ve heard is that there’s such a tremendous crush for a few seconds’ time before His Majesty and then it’s done. Surely no one will take notice if I send my regrets.”
Savage grunted, never a good sign.
“To begin with, there could be a hundred younger women there at the Palace today and not one of them would have your beauty or grace,” he said, tracing lazy circles over my bare shoulder. “Of course your absence would be noticed.”
“You’re flattering me,” I said unhappily. He was looking wickedly seductive, his jaw dark and unshaven and his silvery eyes heavy lidded, and the musky scent of our combined bodies clung to his skin. None of it made me want to leave him or his bed.
“I’m telling the truth,” he said, nibbling at my shoulder. “Besides, once you’ve accepted your invitation, the only excuse that’s accepted is death, and fortunately, you are very much alive. Believe me, His Majesty will be looking for you amidst the milk-faced girls and their mamas.”
“You’re flattering me again,” I said, pulling my shoulder away. “Please, Savage, don’t make me go.”
“I’m afraid you have no choice,” he said, leaning on his bent arm to look at me. “You go off with your hired marchioness, make your curtsey at the Palace, and I’ll be waiting for you at the reception afterward, where I promise you I’ll have an excellent—most excellent—reward for us both.”
I sighed again, tipping my head to one side to look up at him from beneath my lashes. “Why can’t we skip the parts about the marchioness and presentation and the Palace, and have the reward here instead?”
He smiled indulgently. “Do not tempt me, Eve,” he said, tracing his fingers over my lips. “This is for the best. You’ve come all the way from New York to secure your place in Society here in London. I’m not about to stand in your way, as much as I might wish to. You need to make alliances of your own, without me.”
He rolled to one side, away from me, and left the bed. Most times I’d enjoy the sight of him walking naked across the room, the play of the powerful muscles of his back and buttocks. But now I could think of nothing beyond what he’d just said, and I sat upright in the rumpled bed.
“Without you?” I asked uneasily. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“It’s not supposed to ‘mean’ anything,” he said, an unmistakable touch of irritation in his voice as he shrugged into his dressing gown. “I cannot be everything to you, just as you cannot be everything to me. You know that.”
“I do,” I said softly, understanding now. We’d two more days together. That was all. Just two more days.
“Your maid is probably here already to help you dress,” he continued, “and I’ve also arranged for a hairdresser familiar with Court attire to help her prepare you. You don’t want to lose your plumes before the queen.”
“No,” I said, reaching for my own robe—or, rather, the Chinese silk robe of his that I’d worn while I was here. In two days I’d be leaving that behind, too. “Thank you for thinking of that for me.”
“One more thing.” He scooped something from the table into his hand before he joined me again by the bed. “Beneath all your finery, I want you to wear these.”
He held his hand out to me, and in his open palm were the nipple rings and chain that I’d worn last night. I hadn’t seen them before, of course, having been blindfolded, but I recognized them from his description: gold bands studded with diamonds. They looked like miniature wedding rings, except for the little hinged clips that tightened them into place.
“You wish me to wear these beneath my Court gown?” I asked. Remembering how they’d felt made me blush furiously and also spurred the first twinges of excitement.
“It’s not a wish, Eve,” he said with that sardonic smile that meant he expected to be obeyed. “It’s an order. Consider it the first of the day’s events.”
“Yes, Master,” I murmured. I looked down at the jewels in his palm, surprisingly delicate for what they’d done to me. They must have been costly for erotic playthings and had obviously been bespoke from some skilled and very discreet jeweler. The chain with the diamond drop slipped swinging from my fingers, and the dangling stone danced in the light. Last night Savage had likened it to several things, but today to me it could only be a melancholy teardrop.
“I’ll put them on you now, before you go to your maid,” he said. “Open your robe, and prepare yourself. The rings won’t fit unless your nipples are erect.”
I nodded, pulling the front of the robe open so that my breasts were bare. I cupped my breasts in my hands and lightly pinched my nipples between my thumbs and forefingers. My nipples were still sensitive, a little raw, from wearing the rings last night, and I couldn’t help but wince a bit at my own touch.
Yet I knew how much he liked seeing me pleasure myself, and I’d lost all of the shyness I’d once had about doing it. Now it excited me to watch him watching me. His heavy-lidded gaze was intent on my hands on my breasts, framed by the brightly colored silk, and I teased my nipples as much for his pleasure as for my own, flaring my fingers across my flesh. We fed upon each other’s excitement that way, and my breath quickened as my nipples puckered and stiffened. His breathing had changed, too, and I glanced down at the front of his robe, already knowing his cock would be tenting the silk above it.
“That’s enough,” he said roughly. He brushed my hands away and quickly clipped the rings to my now-stiff nipples. Again, I gasped at the pressure of the gold bands surrounding them. The pinch was subtle, more of a tight squeeze, with the pr
essure accentuated by the tug of the weighted chain.
He led me to the mirror. He grabbed my long hair in his hand and twisted it over my head to uncover my neck and shoulders.
“Look at yourself,” he said. “See and understand how beautiful—and desirable—you are to me.”
I didn’t just look at my reflection. I stared. Framed by the open robe, my skin glowed like ivory. Fascinated, I now could see how the rings looked in place. The tips of my nipples were as red as berries, and their arousal was enhanced by the stones around them. I raised my chin a fraction, arching my back to make the chain swing and the stones sparkle, and my breasts swayed like ripe, jeweled fruit. I looked like a pagan goddess, adorned and worshiped.
No, it wasn’t just what I appeared. With Savage that’s what I’d become, and I reveled in it.
I shook my hair free of his grasp and turned around to face him, making a shimmering offering of myself to him. He captured my jaw with one hand and kissed me deeply, possessively, his mouth grinding over mine as his other hand thrust into my robe and over my hip to caress my buttock. I melted against him, certain he’d sweep me back to the bed and that my presentation at Court would be forgotten.
I was wrong.
With a groan he pulled back and away from me. The effort it took was clear, especially in the way his gaze remained on my breasts, yet from the way he crossed his arms over his chest I knew he wouldn’t change his mind.
“Go dress now, Eve,” he ordered. “Even as you bow before the king, you’ll feel those rings, and remember you’re mine.”
“I never forget, Master,” I said softly, wishing it weren’t quite so painfully true.
“I’m glad.” He smiled crookedly, and that alone was enough to make me melt inside. “So long as you remember, you’ll be rewarded later tonight.”
Reluctantly I left him, tying my robe closed before I went across the hall to the room where I’d dress. As he’d said, Hamlin was waiting for me, along with another maid to assist her, and the special hairdresser. All the various pieces of my Court attire—petticoats, lingerie, corset, stockings, shoes, gloves, plumes, and veil for my hair, feather fan, cloak, handkerchief, and of course my dress and train—were arranged in waiting around the room. Everything was of the finest quality, exquisitely and extravagantly embroidered, beaded, and lace trimmed, and all purchased for this day alone. Most likely I’d never wear any of it again, either.
Also on the bed were the jewels I’d wear, still carefully arranged in their plush-lined cases. There was a choker of diamonds and a slightly longer necklace, also of diamonds, to go beneath that, both made for me for this day by the Maison Cartier. Beside the necklaces was the drum-shaped box that held my diamond tiara, created by Mr. Tiffany from stones my father had purchased long ago.
Last, but certainly not least, was the pearl necklace that Savage had given me, looped sinuously in its case. It must not have been easy for Hamlin to bring Savage’s pearls in place of the ones that my husband had given me at my wedding, though perhaps the mercenary fact that Savage’s gift was more valuable than Arthur’s had been might have been enough for her to put aside her old loyalties.
But then in many ways this was more Hamlin’s day of glory than mine. Dressing me for Court must be the ultimate creation for a lady’s maid, and even Hamlin couldn’t be her usual dour self in the face of such a challenge.
“Come now, ma’am; come,” she said, hurrying me into the bathroom where I heard the splashing sound of the tub being filled. The small room was already steamy, and the flowery scent of bath oil perfumed the air. “There is so much to do to prepare you, and we’ve only a few hours.”
She drew the robe from my shoulders, the same way she’d done thousands of times before, and I climbed into the tub, sighing gratefully as I sank into the warm water.
“Let me soak a few minutes, Hamlin,” I said. “You’ll have time enough, I’m sure.”
She didn’t reply, and I glanced back at her. She was tightly clutching the robe in her hands and staring in horror at my breasts with the nipple rings and the diamond teardrop hanging between them.
“Another gift from His Lordship,” I explained, trying to sound blasé even as I blushed.
“Yes, ma’am,” she said, disapproval roiling through the two words. “That … that rigmarole must be removed before you bathe.”
“It’s not rigmarole, Hamlin,” I said. “It’s a diamond-studded jewel, and it’s not to be removed. I intend to wear it beneath my chemise and corset today.”
“To the Palace, ma’am?” Hamlin exclaimed in disbelief. “Before Her Majesty?”
“Yes, and before His Majesty, too,” I said firmly. “It is not your decision.”
“No, ma’am,” she said grimly, putting aside the robe and coming around to the back of tub to begin washing my hair. “But I will say that I’ve never seen the like.”
I was certain she hadn’t, but with everything else happening to me today Hamlin’s lack of worldly experiences was among the least of my concerns. I closed my eyes, letting the warm water relax me, and tried to let my thoughts relax, too, the way I usually did in the bath.
Yet my thoughts kept returning uneasily to something Savage had said: I cannot be everything to you, just as you cannot be everything to me.
What had he meant by that? In the same breath he’d spoken of how I should form other alliances, too. Variety had been one of the main rules of the Game as it was played at Wrenton. No one was expected or encouraged to keep the same partner. Savage and I had already pushed the boundaries by being exclusively attached for nearly two weeks. I was acutely aware of how we had nearly reached the end of our agreed-upon time together, but was he pushing me to find another lover, another gentleman to amuse me? Or was it that he himself had already set his sights on a new lady?
I knew the rules. I knew his penchant—and his reputation—for variety. I knew that we’d never promised anything to each other beyond sexual diversion and pleasure.
And yet, and yet …
If I was honest to myself, I also knew I didn’t want to find another man. I didn’t want to explore more sexual games with anyone other than Savage. I didn’t want our time together to end.
I didn’t because I loved him.
I’d never loved any other man, but I loved Savage, loved him more than was wise, more than I could easily undo or forget.
I could tell myself that he loved me in return, and deep down I did believe it. In a thousand small ways he’d told me he cared for me, but he’d never once said the magical word, nor had I. I also told myself that too many men would speak of love carelessly, without any meaning, while Savage had not spoken it but shown that he treasured me and that we belonged together.
That meant more, didn’t it? Weren’t actions supposed to speak louder than any mere words?
Then why hadn’t he ever said it aloud? Why hadn’t he freed me to speak my own heart’s longings to him in return?
Why had I let myself be drawn into this miserable Game that could be at once so full of unimaginable pleasure yet so inexpressibly painful, too?
Admitting all this to myself hurt, and I groaned aloud, making the chain between my breasts tremble and send little ripples through the bathwater.
“Are you unwell, ma’am?” Hamlin asked with concern as she held the towel open for me.
“I’m perfectly well,” I said, rising from the tub with a scattering of droplets. “I’m only concerned about whether I’ll be dressed in time.”
That was as good as a dare to Hamlin, and for the next two hours I was at her complete mercy. That was how long it took me to be powdered, coiffed, corseted, dressed, and bejeweled. Most time-consuming of all was the arrangement of my hair and headdress. My hair required extra pins to offer a secure base for the tiara and the veil that floated behind, and finally the three white ostrich plumes. The hairdresser Savage had hired knew all the tricks of this complicated arrangement and used needle and thread to sew the tiara and plumes into
my hair so there’d be no question of anything falling off as I curtseyed.
When all this was complete, I stood before the tall dressing glass while Hamlin and the other women hovered proudly around me. There was no doubt that they’d made me an imposing figure, tall and regal and glittering with gold-thread embroidery, diamonds, and pearls.
But I’d grown so accustomed to wearing next to nothing with Savage that the formal dress felt stiff and confining, like a trap of silk and steel bones, and the train—all eleven feet of it that Court dress required—dragged like a gilded weight behind me. The diamond choker forced me to hold my chin high, and already my neck was beginning to ache from the effort of holding so much atop my head. The only things that felt familiar were the nipple rings, now well hidden beneath layers of clothing yet their pressure still somehow oddly comforting because they’d been put there by Savage.
“Oh, ma’am, you shall be the most beautiful lady there,” Hamlin said, sighing with happiness. “You’ll do all of us Americans proud, you will.”
I didn’t care about doing anyone proud. All I cared about was finding Savage before I had to leave for the palace with Lady Tremayne. It wasn’t that I wanted his admiration. Rather, we’d been together so much that it felt wrong to be apart and I longed for the comfort and reassurance of his company, if even for a few minutes before I had to leave. I looped the train over my arm the way I’d been taught and hurried across the hall to look for him.
“Savage?” I called eagerly as I walked through his rooms. “I want to show you all my noble splendor.”
But to my surprise, there was no answering voice and no sign of him at all. Disappointed, I couldn’t help but wander into the bedroom where we’d shared so much. By now, the bed was neatly made, with all traces of our earlier passion—and of us—tidied away. How easily it had been done! I didn’t want to believe he’d left the house without wishing me well, and unhappily I turned, preparing to go downstairs alone.