by Mary Wine
But she resisted being drawn down into the web of sensations before making her own demand.
“I mean it.” She curled her hands into fists and pushed against him. “I’ve spent enough dark hours longing for what you start but never finish.”
“You don’t understand what you’re asking.”
But he did. She could hear it in his tone—hard and edged with a promise that sent a shaft of need tearing through her belly. She felt empty, the walls of her passage transmitting how much they wanted to be stretched around his male organ. Oh yes, she understood the carnal nature of her yearnings, and with the darkness surrounding them, ignoring her desires didn’t seem so important. Being truthful did.
“I understand that you make me want you in my bed.”
She slid along the wall until she could move away from him. Her chemise billowed as she moved, allowing the crisp night air to tease her overheated skin. “You know what you are doing, which makes it the worst sort of unkindness to tease me with kisses before you rip yourself away, glowering at me as though I’ve tried to sully your virtue. Well, Darius Lawley, you entered my private chambers tonight, so don’t you dare attempt to pin the guilt on me. Take responsibility for your actions. You’re an Illuminist, after all.”
He growled softly and followed her, stalking her slowly. “You’re justified in that accusation, Janette.”
She bumped into the opposite wall, and he braced his arm across the space to keep her pinned in the corner. Raw emotion blazed from his eyes, fascinating her.
“I’m drawn to you, in spite of every logical argument.” He moved closer. “In spite of every suspicion I harbor about you, I still came here tonight, still lost the battle to stay away from you.”
“And you are still angry with me for it,” she said, his words hurting her pride. “A high-society girl isn’t good enough for you? Just wait. I’ll make something of myself. Your world is not too much for me to handle, and neither is anything you can tempt me with.”
She stepped up to him and slid her hands over his jaw. A shiver shot down her spine instantly. She savored the sensation, moving her hands slowly before lifting them away. A tiny sound of regret escaped her lips.
“I can shoulder responsibility for my actions, but I refuse to allow you to accuse me of causing your fall from grace.”
She ducked beneath his arm, full of longing but satisfied with herself. She’d faced him like an equal, like an Illuminist.
But he caught her about the waist, binding her to his length as he placed a kiss against the side of her neck. So quickly she was at his mercy; he controlled her completely while she felt the unmistakable tremor of him fighting to hold on to his control.
“I fell from grace long ago…” He cupped her chin and raised it to expose the full expanse of her throat to his lips. “I’m drawn to you by the promise of regaining what I lost.”
He silenced her reply beneath a kiss that threatened to burn her. She’d never known another human might be so warm or that she could enjoy a kiss so much. He grasped her hair, maintaining control of her head while she turned to face him. His mouth slipped along the delicate surface of her lips before pressing her to open her mouth for something deeper.
When she yielded, his tongue swept across her lower lip before thrusting down to tangle with her own. She jerked, twisting away from him because there were too many points of sensation; it was impossible to understand what she wanted to do. But he kept her steady, stroking his tongue across hers until she mimicked the motion.
She thought they’d kissed before, but she had been naïve. Now she truly understood what passion tasted like. It was consuming and intoxicating, blinding her to everything but the next touch. Darius didn’t make her wait for it. He released her hair and slid his hands down the sides of her body, slowly, too slowly for the need pulsing in time with her racing heart. She reached for him, cupping the sides of his head, but froze when her fingers encountered the cold metal gears of his earpiece.
He was still on duty.
And yet he continued to kiss her, fanning the flames licking at her insides. All of it was threatening to send her emotions boiling over, and she couldn’t bear to have him turn his back on her. She feared she’d abandon every scrap of pride she had just to stand up to him if he left her now.
She pulled on the earpiece, trying to disconnect him from the duty he was so dedicated to.
He lifted his head, interrupting their kiss. The light shone off his eyes as his hand stopped hers from lifting the bit of technology away. She could see the protest flickering in his eyes.
“I have only myself, Darius, so if you want to be my lover, I am only interested in the man beneath the Guardian.”
His lips twitched, but only for a moment. The grin never reached his eyes; instead, she witnessed him battling to understand her. Or maybe just the effect they had on each other. It felt like a living, breathing conflict surrounding both of them.
“It’s been a long time since I have been myself…”
It was an admission, one that caused her breath to catch in her throat. Tenderness filled her for the first time when he lifted his hand off hers and allowed her to remove the emblem of his office. He watched her set it aside before a gleam of wickedness brightened his eyes.
“This clothing is part of the job too…”
He had the vest open in a flash, the sound of several buttons hitting the floor making her smile.
“So you were a boy once.” She marveled at the playfulness appearing in his eyes.
“A very long time ago.” The shirt followed the vest but floated more slowly until it disappeared into a dark shadow.
She hadn’t realized she’d been retreating until her legs hit the bed. She would have tumbled onto it if he hadn’t wrapped an arm around her waist to steady her. She still ended up on it, but he controlled her descent and scooped his opposite hand beneath her knees so her legs joined her. The bed rocked as he sat down beside her.
She only had a moment to realize he was in bed with her, bare-chested, before he extinguished the light. Her belly twisted with something that was a mixture of excitement and trepidation—she refused to acknowledge fear. She was an Illuminist woman, or at least on her way to being one and taking a lover was her choice.
His shoes hit the floor before his hands cupped her hips once more. He eased her up onto her knees while his mouth found hers again. There was something intensely enjoyable about the way his hands gripped her hips. A spike of need tore through her thoughts, rendering her mind useless again. Darius seemed to feel the same way. He kissed her but slid his hands down her thighs before grasping the delicate fabric of her chemise and pulling the garment upward.
She gasped, unable to control the sound. Even firm in her choice, she still felt the bite of vulnerability as the night air became the only thing touching her skin.
“Siren…luring me close with your song…”
His voice was husky and almost unintelligible, but he pressed her back while laying a trail of kisses along her body. It was so much simpler to close her eyes and allow herself to be immersed in sensation.
Delight…really.
And she wanted more than to have it given to her. She reached for him, running her fingers along the ridges of muscle his clothing had hidden. It was suddenly clear why men dressed in so many layers; their bodies were lust-inspiring.
She wanted to touch and kiss every inch of him, but Darius was intent on the same course. They moved around each other, taking the opportunity to touch the skin available. The bed rocked as they rolled, and the bedding ended up on the floor.
He captured a nipple, and she arched up, twisting her hands in the remaining sheet beneath her.
“So…damned sweet…” He moved to its twin, capturing it with a soft growl.
“Flesh is not…sweet…” she pa
nted. Logic had not completely escaped her yet.
He chuckled, the sound full of promise. “Yours is. I could dine for hours upon it.”
One hand had left her hip and smoothed a path onto her belly. Why had she never noticed how soft and sensitive the skin there was? Her passage was aching with need, sending tremors along her limbs.
“I’m ashamed to say I can’t wait that long.”
She sighed with relief and reached for him, craving more contact. His hand traveled lower, until he was teasing the soft curls covering her mons.
“It is a shame truly to not taste all of you…”
His fingers parted the folds of flesh protecting her clitoris. Her breath froze in her throat but went shooting out when he touched the little bud at the top of her sex. Pleasure so acute, it shared commonalities with pain tore through her. There was no time to think, only to respond. Her cry echoed around the room, sending a scarlet blush to her cheeks with just how out of control she was.
“But I’m as needy as you are…” Darius confessed.
He didn’t grant her the opportunity to argue. His mouth claimed hers once more as he freed his length. Curiosity urged her to look at it, but Darius never stopped kissing her long enough for her to see. Instead, he lifted her leg and pushed it up to allow his hips to nestle between her thighs. She felt the hard nudge of his cock burrowing its way between the folds of her sex. She was far wetter than normal, the fluid easing his way. It was hard, harder than she’d ever believed a man’s organ might be, but her passage ached for it. Even as he began pushing into her body and her flesh protested, she was arching to take him deeper out of instinct.
But the pain became white-hot. She gasped and tried to twist away. Darius didn’t allow her even a tiny bit of freedom, his larger body pinning hers to the surface of the bed.
“I can’t—”
“You can,” he whispered against her neck, his tone rich with confidence. Her pride swelled in response, and her body suddenly stopped protesting his entry. With a final moment of resistance, his cock slid completely inside her.
There was nothing but burning pain; it raced up from where his hard flesh pierced her. No sound escaped her throat because her lungs had frozen as the agony held her tight in its grasp.
He withdrew, granting her relief, and she sucked in a deep breath before he sent it racing out of her lungs when he thrust back into her. She moaned, the sound low and primitive. The pain wasn’t as intense. Her cry faded, and so did the overwhelming hurt.
“I should have realized you were a virgin…”
His body shook as he tried to rise. With a soft curse, he lowered himself again and began thrusting slowly.
She wanted to know why he’d thought she wasn’t a virgin, but it suddenly didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except the growing sense of satisfaction building beneath the friction his thrusting produced. She moaned again, but for a different reason. This time, the cry was forced out because there was too much pleasure to contain. She lifted her hips, meeting the next plunge, and gasped when the pleasure tightened.
“That’s the way. Meet me, Janette. Take a hand in your own pleasure…”
His voice was dark and dangerous. Each word was spoken through clenched teeth, and she found his tone suited her perfectly. She wanted to arch and take his length. There was nothing controlled about the moment; it was a storm of yearning that saw her straining upward for each thrust while she grabbed his shoulders and held him in place. Her fingernails cut into his skin, and he growled with satisfaction. Deep inside her passage, every muscle clenched tighter and tighter until the passion burst like a bubble, sending shards of white-hot delight out in every direction. She was swept away by the shock wave, held in place by the hard motions of Darius driving his length into her a few final times. He tensed, snarling something unintelligible before his cock delivered a hot spurt of seed.
They were locked together for a moment, currents of pleasure hitting them from within until they both collapsed into a warm puddle of satisfaction. Janette sank straight into it, never protesting when it took her away into oblivion.
***
The room was dark.
Janette opened her eyes, confusion sweeping through her.
Had she been dreaming of Darius again?
The certainty that she hadn’t imagined him was hot against her back. One hard arm was draped across her waist while he gently cupped a breast. A dull ache made itself known between her thighs, driving away any remnants of confusion. Her mind cleared completely, bringing details back with a rush. Her cheeks burned with a blush while her temper flickered to life.
“Why didn’t you trust I was a virgin?” She moved, gently trying to dislodge his arm, but he only pulled her closer until he was curved around her back and his feet caught hers.
“We are not holding a discussion tonight, Janette.” His voice was full of authority, and it chafed.
“I didn’t invite Guardian Lawley into my bed, so stop issuing orders,” she insisted while trying to squirm out of his hold.
He held her tight. “As you like, sweetheart. I’d suggest discussing this topic in the morning.”
She wiggled, but he kept her secure. “Why? Oh yes, you like to be the one handing out the accusations. Well, Darius Lawley, I have as much right to be suspicious of your Order’s plans for me as you do of my desire to be here.”
He sighed, sounding exasperated. “A well-founded point, which we can debate in the morning.”
“Because that is when you shall withdraw behind your duty? Put your suit back on like armor?”
She meant to sound stronger; instead, hints of insecurity edged her words. Doubts began to undermine the confidence that had seen her so boldly losing her virginity to a man who was not her husband.
Who would never be her husband.
“Because lovers only allow pleasure between them in bed.”
He kissed her head, gently stroking her body and lulling her back toward slumber. She wanted to ask him questions, but it was far more satisfying to heed his words.
“I’d much rather be only your lover for the moment, Janette. The harder edges of life will be waiting for us at dawn. There is no need to rush into contact with them. Indulge me, at least for as long as the sun is down. Neither of us can change the fact that life is hard, but we can enjoy the moments when it decides to leave us alone.”
Now his tone was soft and tender, tempting her to just follow his lead. He was her lover. By her choice. A desire that was natural, supported by scientific fact, and nothing to be labeled immoral. At least among the Illuminists, it was. She smiled and surrendered to sleep.
She was an Illuminist, even if Darius didn’t trust her.
But do you trust him?
She realized she wasn’t sure.
Five
“Janette?”
She sighed. “Why are you always in my dreams, Darius?”
The pillow was warm and comfortable beneath her cheek. She snuggled against it but frowned when the bedding slid off her shoulders to allow the morning air to nip her.
“As much as I find your confession charming, I cannot remain to enjoy it. I must return to my post.”
He was real.
She rubbed her eyes and stared at the undeniable evidence that the night had not been some elaborate dream. Darius was dressed and sitting on the edge of her bed. In the morning light, the man looked too large for the modest room. She must have slept half on top of him because the bed wasn’t wide enough for them both. But his hair lacked formality, the dark strands curling just a bit around his temples. The top button of his shirt was still open, betraying the fact that he didn’t care for being confined. Little hints of who he truly was, and she wasn’t the only one noticing them. His eyes narrowed in a lazy manner while he studied her and stroked the side of her face gentl
y. His gaze settled on her lips for a long moment as enjoyment flickered in his eyes.
“I did not want to leave without saying good-bye.”
There was a tenderness in his tone she didn’t know how to deal with. He stroked her cheek once more, and she wiggled away, uncertain of everything in that moment. His expression became guarded.
“And Decima hit you too hard.” His attention had shifted to the side of her head.
“It is only a bruise, and not the worst one I have ever had.” She sat up and had to grab the sheet before it slithered down to expose her bare breasts. “I was quite the energetic child. Much to my father’s disdain. Yet my mother encouraged me. I suppose I understand why now.”
“Sitting about in a nursery is unhealthy.” He stood, and his vest gaped open where three of the buttons were missing. He pulled the edges wide in response to her attention on it. “The motivation for my early departure. I would rather not give the rumormongers a feast. They’ll have enough to discuss as it is, since the Guardians at the gate will log my exit time.”
The earpiece was back in place. “We’ll talk tonight.”
“That isn’t necessary,” she insisted. “I understand the way it is here. You made no promises to me last night.”
One dark eyebrow rose in response. He came back toward the bed and planted one hand on either side of her. She was trapped, unless she wanted to release the sheet to push him away. It wasn’t the first time he’d insisted on making her see his point, but this time it felt intensely personal. This wasn’t the Guardian imposing his will on her; it was Darius, even if it was impossible to separate the two completely.
“I disagree, Janette. You don’t understand me as well as you think you do.” He pressed a hard kiss against her mouth. “Which is my fault. We will talk, and I will be back. That is a promise.”
He was on his way out of the door before she sputtered a retort.