by Anne Mallory
Her future was muddled and dark. Like the sky before a storm. She wasn’t sure what it would look like come the metaphorical morning. Or if she would still be standing. But this was her chance to taste and explore. To break free from her cage. To be in control of her own destiny, even if for a small amount of time.
His lips ran down her chin. Down her throat. He’d discovered a weak spot at her pulse and had been exploiting it all week. His mouth captured the spot and she arched against him, the air escaping her lungs. He pressed her against the table and scooted her up so she was sitting on the edge. Both hands reached into her hair and he drew her forth to kiss her again. His legs nudged between hers and he brushed against the spot where the heat always traveled.
His hands moved down her arms and wrapped around her knees, tugging her closer and wrapping her legs around his waist. It brought them flush together and inflamed the lovely aching.
“Do you still wish to leave, Marietta?”
He rocked against her and pleasure jolted up her spine.
“No,” she moaned as his lips clamped the spot on her neck.
“You have this lovely dress on, though.” His breath whispered across her neck. “We could travel to some pub and I could devour you in front of the masses. It could be part of the disguise. You wouldn’t have to choose a thing. You wouldn’t have to say that you want this.”
His hand moved up her thigh.
“Wouldn’t have to be in control.”
His fingers moved over her hip and waist and under her arm.
“You could pretend that this is all happening because you are unsure of what to do. That you are martyred for the cause.”
His thumb pressed against her breast and made a deep circle on her nipple. The heat rushed through her body, spreading.
“But I would know that you really wanted this. That you were more than happy to see what lay beneath my shirt. Farther below. To feel your back pressed against this table. For me to bend your knees and bury myself in your heat.”
He didn’t allow her to speak, taking her mouth in another kiss, this one drugging and dominant. His words caused pictures to appear in her head. Things she’d thought of continuously this past week.
“I think you would like being taken, Marietta. And I would more than enjoy taking you.”
She wasn’t sure being taken sounded pleasant. But then again most anything Gabriel did to her ended up being pleasant, even if it was preceded by taunting words or challenging eyes.
“Would you like being made love to on a table? Perhaps not the first time. But after we get that pesky little problem out of the way, shall we try it here?”
Pesky little problem. As if her virginity, so highly prized in her world, was little more than an annoyance. Then again, her lack of a virginal state wasn’t likely to be an issue these days.
He was dangerous and arrogant, but he was also a protector. Oh, he would undoubtedly leave her at the end of an affair and send her on her way, but intuitively she didn’t think he would hurt her. As long as she didn’t expect anything more from him. Or heaven forbid fall in love with him.
“Should I take your silence as assent?” He kissed her lips, lingering on her lower one and pulling it between his before releasing it with a pop. “I won’t, you know. You’ll have to vocalize your desire. Just once, and I’ll do the rest.”
Her head dipped back as he kissed along her neck. Devilish kisses, seductive words.
He leaned back and met her eyes, his dark and beguiling. “You want to learn the art. I can see it in your eyes. Every time I kiss you, I can see it burning in your gaze. You hide all that passion behind the prickers you wear so proudly. It makes it all the more of a challenge to uncover the soft, velvet center.”
He touched her breast again, fingers pulling and lifting to the peak. Her head dipped farther as the muscles in her neck gave way.
“And I will teach you all you wish to know.”
“Do you do this for everyone?” she whispered, eyes hazed as she tried to focus.
She felt him stiffen, but he immediately resumed his ministrations. “No. You aren’t the only one who wears your prickers proudly.”
“Why me?” She pulled her neck upward. She had looked in a mirror. She wasn’t blind, and neither was he.
“Because I want to,” he whispered against her exposed throat, fingers lazily circling. “Tell me yes, and I will continue. Tell me no, and I will withdraw.”
It was true. All of what he said. She was curious. So very, very curious. She wanted to learn everything. Wanted the power he had over her for her own. Never before had she felt this way about a man, and such a man as this…one who seemed to know her body better than she did…
“What is your pleasure, Marietta?”
“Yes.” The choice was very simple in the end.
His eyes were fierce and triumphant.
He led her to his room and laid her on the coverlet of the bed. Her skin was on fire but her brain was frozen and panicky. “Remember what I said about kissing? About how to respond and feel the response given back? Use that the same way.”
He kissed her gently, his fingers working at the fastenings on her dress, the latches of her stays. She kissed him back, pushing her nervousness into her response, trying to overcome her fear by kissing him as intensely as he kissed her. The feedback became stronger as her fierce kisses turned into more demanding ones from him.
He pulled away slowly, softly kissing her lips. Somehow he’d managed to get her untied, unlatched, and freed. Only her chemise remained. He tugged her upright and shimmied the material up and over her head. She immediately crossed her arms to hide her nakedness.
Here was a perfect specimen of male beauty sitting in front of her, while she, so bony and gangly, was exposed before him.
He raised a brow at her action and tugged one arm down. Her arm immediately rose again. She looked down at herself and grabbed for her chemise.
“What are you doing, Marietta?”
“I—I’ve changed my mind.”
He stopped her from putting the garment back on. “Because you are truly having second thoughts, or because you dislike your body?”
Her chin lifted. “What difference does it make?”
“A great deal of difference.” He lowered her arm and tugged the garment from her. “You are skin and bones, it’s true. Nothing that a few more weeks of regular food won’t cure. But that doesn’t matter. You could stay this skinny or be three times your weight and what would really matter was the spark. How you respond. The passion you allow to be unleashed.”
He stroked her arm and she shivered.
“The physical shell is nothing without what is inside. I could be with what the masses consider the most beautiful woman, and if I wanted to pretend there was something deeper there, I could. I could delude myself as to the connection between. But why would I settle for a substitute if I could feel a real spark? And you have one in you, Marietta. I can taste it. It’s not what you look like, Marietta, it’s what you choose to show.”
His fingers combed through the hair at her nape, pulling her head back.
“Show me that spark. Feel it and return it. That’s what matters.”
The heat that had cooled pumped again. “And if it is disappointing?”
“Then we will be disappointing together. Would you be happier to know that you are not the only one with uncertainties?” He nipped her ear and laid her back out. “Know then that I’m scared witless.”
Somehow she couldn’t believe him as he took her mouth against his own, as his hands moved down her body and soothed the tremors.
“I will have you, Marietta. I’ve known it since we first kissed. Since you first released that passion. I’ll coax every drop out of you, if I have to.”
His words, his hands—she was the snake and he the charmer. “Good.” She released it on a moan as something hard pressed against her, right where she needed it most. He rocked against her and she rocked back, wanting th
e pressure, the heat. Her body was restless, agitated, needing something she couldn’t name.
“That’s right. Don’t hold back any of your responses.” His voice was soft and deep. “There’s no one here. Just the two of us. And I want you wet and burning all over these sheets.”
She didn’t understand, but her body seemed to. It kept trying to press closer to his, and the heat was turning damp. He had his shirt undone and tossed to the side. A well-formed chest, a sprinkling of hair and lean muscles, crouched over her.
“Show me what you feel, Marietta.”
Her head tipped back and her mouth opened in a silent scream as he tugged her nipple into his mouth and gave a strong suck. Licking and sucking over and over. The heat became uncomfortable, the dampness grew.
He moved to her other breast and she arched into him, trying to make full contact again, as he’d moved up to change position. Her nipple appeared with a pop and he smiled dangerously at her. Green eyes rakish and daring. Hair mussed and charming.
He stood and undid his trousers. A perfectly formed Greek statue, looking at her with a hungry stare. She knew without a doubt that she had never felt this powerful before.
He pulled back the covers and she scooted underneath. Curiosity, fear, and power coursed through her. Here was what all the ladies tittered or dithered about. He scooted in next to her. “Have you ever touched yourself, Marietta?”
His fingers caressed her stomach and ran farther south.
“Here.” His fingers stroked over the hair between her legs, one touching the skin beneath. She jumped. Shifted. The heat was calling her there.
His fingers parted her and lightly teased the top. She froze. The feelings were pleasurable, but there was something altogether odd and intrusive.
He turned her toward him, so they were lying on their sides, facing each other. “Watch what I’m doing. I’m getting you ready. Preparing you so that everything feels good, nothing feels bad.” One finger dipped and caressed just inside the edge. “To make us slide together.”
She watched the top part of his finger disappear. Her breath caught as it moved inside of her an inch. He pressed closer to her. “Music to my ears. You don’t know how much I wish that finger was a different part of my body right now.”
She looked between their bodies at the portion of him that was much larger than a finger. She hesitantly reached out to touch him. Silky, but hard. His finger curled inside her and something rocketed through her. She gripped him tightly.
He laughed, somewhat less steadily. “The feedback between us. Exactly. Keep exploring, Marietta. Don’t hesitate to touch whatever fascinates you.”
She stroked him, watched as he strained to her hand. He touched her fingers and placed them on top of his. His finger dipped inside of her—more than an inch. Her eyes closed and he kissed her, quick and hard.
“Look and feel.”
She looked at her fingers on top of his. His middle finger joining his first as he delved inside of her, the hard pads of his fingers stroking the soft interior, increasing the heat. The tip of her finger touched her curls, the skin beneath, as he delved more deeply. His other hand took her fingers in his and touched them to her. Moving them down and around his. Her fingers skimmed something that made her body twitch.
He wrapped her fingers back around him and touched her with his thumb, stroking over the same spot. Heat shot through her. She arched toward him, pulling along his length.
“Shhh.” His voice was heavy and strained. “I know. Just a little more.”
His fingers had disappeared inside her. They were doing something, some dance from within, twisting and scissoring. The heat wanted to explode, needed to explode.
He was an exceptional dancer. The inane thought leapt through her mind.
His mouth returned to her breasts. She arched forward, into his mouth, into his fingers. The butterflies beat a mad staccato. His fingers withdrew and he framed her face with his hands.
“I’m going to have you now, Marietta.”
She leaned forward and kissed him, her body naturally arcing into his. The fear that she might have possessed, had possessed, gone, obliterated by the trust she now placed in him. That he had engendered with his slow movements and running dialogue.
He wouldn’t hurt her.
She felt a nudge against her curls, even though his hands were still touching her cheeks as they lay on their sides, face-to-face. “Rest your knee on top of mine.”
She did as he suggested, opening a vee between her legs. She looked down and saw him pushing back toward her, and heat swirled again. The tip of him pushed against her, just as his fingers had, and the sounds returned.
“Just a little bit at a time. I want you to push against me every time you feel able.”
She gave a little push and felt some resistance. She paused. He kissed her.
“Sweet and slippery. Your body needs to adjust,” he whispered against her lips.
He touched her nipple with his free hand, lightly pulling the tip between his fingers. She arched toward him, the heat below demanding satisfaction. Another inch inside.
“Shhh. Just hold yourself there for a second.” He continued to play with her breast, and she gritted her teeth to keep from moving. He pulled out a bit and then pushed back in. A wave of heaviness passed over her head. Anxiety to move. To reach something.
“Halfway, love. Which—”
She grabbed his head and pulled him toward her, kissing him hard. Breaking his touch on her breast and dragging him inside. His eyes were bright green and triumphant when he pulled away.
He flipped them so he was lying on top of her, his hands braced on either side of her head. He pulled out and gave a short thrust and then another, the promised slide materializing as he pushed farther in. Her feet scrambled on the bed, trying to find purchase to push up, to reach that heat that everything to this point had promised.
“Keep pushing, that’s right. Wrap your legs around me. Follow everything your body tells you and let go of the rest.”
He pulled out and thrust all the way inside her. Her head fell back, the feeling too much, and she moaned, deep and loud. She was too far gone to feel embarrassment. She just wanted relief.
“Don’t forget to breathe, Marietta. Deep breaths. Moaning is good. That’s right.”
He thrust in again, the long length of him spearing her and lifting her an inch off the bed. Her legs, wrapped around him, pushing forward, to touch the place that he had just rubbed. He pulled back, and when he thrust this time she lifted her hips to meet him. The edge of her vision went hazy. Sparks of flint ignited, she could feel her mouth caught in a silent scream.
“Sweet and lovely. Let go, love.”
He thrust again and again and she barely could lift her hips as she followed his direction and let go of everything. Moaning and gasping against his shoulder, she burst apart in his arms, butterflies scattering to the four corners of the room.
Chapter 10
Gabriel awakened abruptly to a vigorous knock on the front door. He glanced at the clock to see the hands lethargically indicating a hair past five in the morning. He hadn’t planned on rising for thirty more minutes. Sixty if he was feeling lazy.
A lock of brown hair slid along his arm. He was definitely feeling lazy. Perhaps he would stay in bed all day. He looked over to see the brown head buried into a pillow at his side. He lifted a hand to lightly touch her back. He had never invited a woman to his bed, choosing other locations instead, but she looked natural there.
A heavy knock fell again, and he suddenly realized where he was, with no butler to answer the door. Off his game again.
He threw back the covers on his side and grabbed a dressing robe. As his brain started reasserting itself, he hoped whoever was at the door realized their days were numbered. He saw Marietta’s body shift in his peripheral vision as he stormed from the room. The knocking continued.
He opened the front door to see one of his footmen, Billy, standing on the stoop
looking apoplectic. Gabriel motioned him inside and counted to ten.
“Mr. Charlie sent me, sir. He said to give this to you immediately.”
Gabriel took the missive and opened it. “Why didn’t you just come inside and awaken me?”
“Forgot the key in my rush. Mr. Charlie said it was of the utmost importance that I get this to you immediately. Sorry, sir. Won’t do it again, sir.”
Gabriel started to mutter something suitably terrifying, which would even have cowed Charlie, his giant butler, when his brain caught up to the realization that Marietta had been in bed with him and the whole thing might have been awkward. Billy was looking terrified already, and Gabriel decided to rib him instead, until his eyes caught the first paragraph.
The paper crinkled in his fingers. “Did you bring the carriage?”
“Yes sir, out front, it is.”
“Good, stay here.”
Gabriel took the steps two at a time. Another murder. All remnants of sleep cleared from his head, as he’d been taught to do in his youth. They would have to free Marietta’s brother now. That was the good news. That the real killer was still running around, and Marietta would be leaving him, was the bad.
He paused at the top of the steps. Should he awaken her or let her sleep? The scene would be gruesome. She didn’t need to see it. He aligned his steps so they were silent on the floor.
His silence didn’t matter. She was sitting up in bed, looking rumpled and delicious, the sheets pulled around her.
“What is happening?” Her voice was husky but alert.
He hesitated.
“Gabriel?”
“There’s been another murder. I’m going there. Go back to sleep and I will return by the time you rise.”
“Another murder? Like the others?” Her hand dropped from the sheet and exposed part of her breast to his lovely view. “Go back to sleep? No, I’m coming with you.”
He wasn’t surprised. Her grit was one of his favorite qualities. Still…“It won’t be pretty. Think of what your brother described.”