“Can I help you, sir?” A middle-aged man with a jovial look about him stepped forward from the bustle.
“Yes. A room for me and my wife, if you please,” Thaddeus said. He didn’t so much as flush at the lie of her being his wife. Then again, if all went as they planned, she would be his wife within a week. “And a bath, if possible,” he added as the innkeeper gestured for them to follow him.
As it turned out, in spite of the rough-and-tumble look of the docks in general, the inn Thaddeus had chosen for them to rest in while waiting for news of the ship that would take them to Scotland was clean and efficiently run. Imogen began to feel as though they might finally make their escape as she settled into a chair at the tiny table the room they were given held. A cheery maid brought them hearty stew and good bread for supper while another maid worked to prepare a bath in a large, brass tub.
“I might be able to get used to this sort of life,” Imogen said with a smile, helping herself to a sip of Thaddeus’s beer.
“A life on the run with your life in peril at every turn?” Thaddeus laughed.
“No, a life with hot meals served with a smile and warm baths brought up to my room,” she laughed in return.
Thaddeus blinked at her, his mirth fading. “Don’t you have those things at home?”
Imogen shook her head as she took a bite of bread. “Father never lets us bathe in our own rooms and he says there’s no point in heating the water for women. And our servants rarely smile.”
Thaddeus blew out a breath and rubbed a hand over his face. “Perhaps we weren’t doing any of your servants a favor by protecting them from being sacked.”
Imogen sighed and mulled over the problem while finishing her bread. “Either way, it is all in the past now.”
“As soon as the boy I sent out discovers where our ship is and when it sails, we’ll finally be safe,” he added.
“How long will it take him to find out?”
Thaddeus shrugged. “There’s no telling. Not long.”
“What should we do until then?” Her heart sped up as she glanced past Thaddeus to the cozy bed tucked in a corner of the room. It was madness for her to even think of such things when they were in the middle of their escape, but once the idea took hold, it refused to go away.
Thaddeus seemed to know what he was thinking without having to turn to see what she was staring at. His eyes sparkled and his mouth curved up in a sensual smile. “We’ll take a bath, of course.”
“Oh.” Imogen’s shoulders drooped. She had forgotten about the bath, even though it steamed at the other side of the room, near the fireplace. Baths were always cold, hurried affairs. It seemed like such a burden when there were far more interesting things they could be doing.
But when Thaddeus finished his meal, stood, and extended a hand to her to help her up, the delicious, pulsing feeling in her belly returned instead of going away.
“Let me help you off with your gown,” he said, mischief radiating from him.
“If you think it would be more efficient,” she said, a catch in her voice.
“Much more efficient.” His voice had taken on a deep, purring tone.
He gestured for her to turn around, then tugged at the ties holding her gown closed right away. Imogen sucked in a breath at the brush of his hands. She gasped outright as he leaned in to kiss the crook of her neck lightly.
“Oh, my,” she sighed, tingling all over with need.
Thaddeus merely laughed deep in his throat, a sound that was almost sinister, and pushed her bodice off of her shoulders to reveal more skin. His lips followed where her gown fell away, brushing and nipping and teasing her until a fire lit in her core that spread through her. He tugged at her gown the way he had tugged at the quilt that covered her just the night before, inching it slowly down her arms and chest.
“Yes,” she sighed, eager to give him everything and more. “Yes, my love.”
He inched away, chuckling. “I didn’t ask a question.”
She twisted in his loose embrace, wriggling out of her gown and letting it drop to her feet as she did. “You didn’t need to,” she told him, then slid her arms over his shoulders.
It was her turn to be bold. She swayed into him, bringing her mouth to his and kissing him with all the passion that had been locked within her for so long. He accepted her eagerly, closing his arms around her waist and pressing her flush against him. With only her chemise, stays, and stockings on, she was able to lift her leg against his, arching her hips into him and hinting at all the things she wanted him to do to her.
Their kiss was so ardent and so distracting that Imogen forgot everything else, until Thaddeus said, “Our bath awaits.”
It took a moment for the haze of her lust to clear enough for her to blink and ask, “Our bath?”
Thaddeus grinned, stepping back enough to begin unbuttoning his jacket. “You didn’t think I was going to let you enjoy that scrumptious bath all by yourself, did you?”
The thrill of all that his question implied swirled through her. As he shrugged out of his jacket and started on the buttons of his waistcoat, she pulled at the ties of her stays. “The tub is so small,” she said, glancing past him to where the water was only barely steaming.
“We’ll make do,” he said, flickering one eyebrow up.
It took far less time for both of them to undress than Imogen would have imagined. All she could think about was how they might take advantage of their bath. She finished with her clothes first and skipped over to the tub, stepping into the water. It lapped against her calves, but as nice as it was, it was nothing to the sight of Thaddeus shucking his breeches. His male part was already excited and stood out prominently. Imogen bit her lip, remembering the salty, musky taste of him as she’d swallowed him at the Mapplethorpe ball. That seemed like a lifetime ago, and she was eager to repeat the whole experience.
“You’re beautiful,” she said, only barely able to find her voice as he strode closer to her. “I want to touch you in so many ways.”
“And I want to ravish you until you’re weak and panting my name,” he said as he stepped into the tub with her.
It really was too small for both of them, but he sat first, then drew her down to straddle him in the cramped space. Water splashed freely over the sides, especially when he drew her ankles up and placed them over the lip of the tub. The result was that, once again, she was in an awkward, exposed position and completely at his mercy.
“I’m not certain this is the most efficient way to get clean,” she panted, barely able to think, let alone speak.
“Bathing is not my first priority,” he said, lifting handfuls of water and pouring them over her shoulders.
She gasped as he repeated the gesture. He seemed mesmerized by the way the water trickled over her breasts, her nipples going hard at the contrast of warm water and cool air. It was even better when he shifted from merely pouring water over her to caressing her breasts and dragging his thumbs over her nipples, as though he were a sculptor, forming her out of wet clay. He managed to clean away the dirt of the day while making her feel anything but clean on the inside.
“Yes,” she sighed again, relaxing against the back of the tub and giving in to the sensations he was arousing in her.
“I didn’t ask a question this time either,” he said with a growl in his voice.
“You don’t need to. The answer will always be yes.”
“Even if I do this?”
He pinched both of her nipples, harder than she would have expected. She squealed, but equally unexpected was the deep pleasure she felt at the brief moment of light pain. It was as though bolts of magic shot straight to her sex from the point of his teasing, making her restless and eager for more.
He gave her more by trailing his hands across her belly under the level of the water and along her inner thighs. She let out a sound of desire before she could stop herself. His answering hum of approval only aroused her more. He stroked her inner thighs, parting her hips farth
er as his fingers teased closer and closer to her sex.
The anticipation was sweet torture. She gripped the edge of the tub, arching her hips toward him and encouraging him to take whatever he wanted from her. His thick staff pressed against her backside in a surprisingly tantalizing way. She caught herself wondering what it would feel like if he took her in the most scandalous way possible. It was almost unimaginable, but if that part of him felt as good inside of her that way as it did in the usual way, she would submit to whatever liberties he wanted to take with her. She would let him have her in any way he could dream up.
Her heated fantasies were brought back down to earth as he brushed his fingers over the opening of her sex. She hadn’t realized that she’d closed her eyes, but they popped open as she sucked in a breath, her body tensing in anticipation of so much more.
“You like that,” he said in a passion-rough voice.
“I like everything you do to me,” she sighed, moving her hips to pleasure herself against his hand.
“Even this?” he asked, sliding a finger deep inside of her.
She moaned at the pleasure his invasion gave her as she squeezed his finger. “Yes.”
“And this?” he added a second finger, moving in and out of her.
She wriggled and bore down on his fingers. “Oh, yes.”
“This?” His voice grew heavier as he added a third finger.
Something shifted within her. The simple, teasing passion they’d been sharing took on a hotter, more sensual, and far more dangerous hue. His fingers stretched her, and she found she wanted more. She wanted things that felt shocking and scandalous, and she wanted them desperately.
“Yes,” she panted. Her breasts bobbed at the surface of the water as she jerked into his movements.
A lusty fire filled his eyes as he fit his fourth finger inside of her. Part of her didn’t think she could bear the fullness of almost his entire hand within her, but another part found it unspeakably delicious. She cooed and whimpered as he thrust in and out of her, stretching her to the edge of her tolerance as a powerful orgasm crashed in on her. The sensation was strange and beautiful and slightly frightening, but she gave into it, tossing her head back, arching her breasts up, and throbbing around his hand as he pleasured her.
“Christ, Imogen,” he growled. When she opened her eyes, he was watching her body as she came. His face was flushed and he looked as though he were seeing a wonder of the world. He moved both hands up to cradle her wet breasts, her chest heaving in an attempt to catch her breath.
Her passion might have been ebbing, but his was raging as hot as ever. In one, swift movement, he stood, carrying her out of the tub with him as though she weighed nothing. She was instantly alive again as he stepped toward the bed, but he stopped halfway there.
“I can’t wait,” he said, letting her down to her feet.
She wasn’t certain she had the strength in her legs to stand after the shattering orgasm he’d given her, but as it turned out, she didn’t have to. He twisted her in his arms to face away from him, stepped over to the table where the remnants of their supper still sat, and bent her forward. She managed to grip the edge of the table for balance just in time as he lifted her hips and slammed into her.
It was fierce and hot. His thick cock pounded deep within her in a different way than he had before. He took her in what would have been a savage way, except that she adored every moment of it. Her breasts rubbed hard against the tabletop as he jerked into her, faster and harder, his breath coming in loud, desperate cries. The ache in her core flared and pleasure spilled through her all over again as he thrust. She was so open to him, so much at his mercy, and it felt divine.
In no time, she was sighing and crying along with him as he drove home. His fingertips pressed hard into her hips, and she could feel the tension building within him, even as it reached towering heights in her. She was so primed and ready that as he cried out and thrust deep within her, spilling his seed against her womb, she came so powerfully it felt as though she would be consumed by pleasure. She didn’t know where she ended and he began as her body squeezed him, drawing every last drop of him into her.
At last, he groaned with satisfaction and sagged against her, his body curled over hers. They struggled to catch their breaths and to return to the world around them. He reached to cradle her breasts as they simply stood there, braced against the table, his softening staff still inside of her.
“Yes,” she managed to say at last, arching her hips toward him. “Even that, yes.”
He started to laugh, his arms tightening around her in an embrace, but a knock at the door silenced them both.
“My lord,” a young voice said from the other side of the door.
Imogen tensed, both horrified and aroused by the idea of whoever it was opening the door and finding them in their current position.
The door didn’t open, but the voice continued. “My lord, I found the Lucky Devil, as you asked. Captain Devereux plans to sail in less than two hours. He urges you to board the ship as soon as possible.”
“Thank you,” Thaddeus called over his shoulder. “We will be down shortly.”
Footsteps moved away from the door. Imogen relaxed slightly, wondering how long the young man had been outside their door and what he had heard.
Thaddeus must have been thinking the same. He chuckled and rested his head on Imogen’s shoulders for a moment. His hips flexed into hers, and for half a second, she wondered if he was coming alive for a second go already. But, at last, he withdrew from her and righted himself. She struggled to stand straight and gather her wits about her as well.
“We need to hurry to make it to the ship on time,” he said, still somewhat breathless. His expression filled with renewed desire as he drank in the sight of her pink and sated body when she turned around, leaning against the table for balance. “And once we’re safe and sound aboard that ship, we’ll go at it again. And again and again,” he added as he crossed to the pile of his clothes on the floor. “And again.” He laughed.
“Yes,” Imogen sighed. Not even The Secrets of Love could have prepared her for the delight she knew she would forever find in Thaddeus’s arms.
Chapter 9
Thaddeus’s spirits were running high as he led Imogen back down through the inn, her sack of belongings slung over one shoulder. He stopped only briefly to pay the innkeeper a bit extra for everything he would have to clean up in the room they’d used. He felt as though he had quicksilver in his veins as he dashed out to the street with Imogen, following the lad who had informed them of the Lucky Devil’s plans through the inn room’s door. Perhaps every grand adventure was better when it began with a thorough round of tupping.
“Which way to the Lucky Devil?” he asked the young man who had knocked on their bedroom door, who scurried ahead of them. He couldn’t have been more than sixteen, but he had an air of confidence and self-assurance about him.
“This way, my lord,” the lad said, pointing ahead through the crush of people at the riverfront.
Night had begun to fall, but that hadn’t lessened the number of people going about their business, it merely changed the characters involved. Instead of tradesmen with their carts and honest dock workers unloading ships, the streets that lined the way down to St. Katherine’s Dock were packed with raucous sailors in search of a good time and two-bit whores who looked more than happy to give it to them. Thaddeus could almost smell the gin and beer in the air as they passed pubs with their doors open, inviting all and sundry in for business.
“Is it much farther?” he asked the lad leading them, tension replacing the earlier elation he’d felt, especially when an inebriated sailor reached for Imogen, as though she were on the menu for the evening.
“It’s right down at the end of one of the piers, my lord,” the young man said, hurrying on.
“I do hope we get there quickly,” Imogen said in a hushed voice. “I’m not sure I like this part of town at night.”
“It
’s enjoyable if you’re here for a bit of fun,” Thaddeus said, pulling her closer to him as they picked up their pace. “But not so much for a lady as fine as you.”
“Do you think I’m fine?” she asked, glancing hopefully up at him. “I mean, after all we’ve done.” Her cheeks took on a rosy hue.
Thaddeus laughed. “I think you’re the most beautiful and wonderful woman in all of Christendom.”
He would have leaned in to kiss her, but another sailor grabbed for her, clamping a hand around her upper arm. Only, as it turned out, it wasn’t a sailor at all.
“I’ve got you at last,” Lord Cunningham said, an infernal light in his eyes.
“You’re not getting away this time.” Lord Marlowe stood right behind him, looking as though he would strangle Thaddeus the way Thaddeus had almost strangled him.
Imogen shrieked and tried to pull away from Lord Cunningham. “Let go of me,” she shouted, as strong as he’d ever heard her. Instead of cowering and bursting into tears, she looked as though she would fight Lord Cunningham until the bitter end.
Thaddeus wasn’t about to leave the fighting to her. He didn’t engage the men in a war of words or attempt an attack. First and foremost, they needed to get away. As fast and hard as he could, he swung the sack of Imogen’s things around, slamming it down on Lord Cunningham’s hand. The book fragment Imogen treasured so much must have hit Lord Cunningham’s bone, because he cried out and let go of Imogen’s arm. As soon as she was free, Thaddeus hoisted the sack over his shoulder again and yanked Imogen forward.
“Run,” he hissed, closing his arm around her and whisking her away.
Running was easier said than done. The throng of people crowding around them didn’t break ranks to let them through. Instead, they seemed far more interested in watching to see what was going on. Thaddeus had to shove men bigger than him aside and dart around painted women with their breasts falling out of their bodices to put any sort of distance at all between him and Imogen and Lord Cunningham and Lord Marlowe. At least the crowd held the two villains back as much as they impeded Thaddeus and Imogen’s escape.
The Faithful Siren Page 8