by Kathryn Moon
"I can easily uproot to Rooksgrave. The thief and Booker should be able to watch her while I'm in dayrest, and I don't mind sharing my evenings or using them to keep an eye on the manor," Auguste said. "You'll be protected, mon coeur."
"Rooksgrave will be protected," I said, arching an eyebrow and glancing sideways at Auguste. "It's not just me in there, you know."
"Ah, but you are my favorite, of course," Auguste said.
The carriage jostled and slowed, turning down the drive, the lamps of Auguste's doorstep bright and welcoming after the alleys by the theater.
"If Birsha didn't have a house here in London, I would persuade you into staying with me," Auguste said with a sigh. "You like me better than the sphinx, and I know how to make you beg."
I snorted, thinking of how much begging I'd done with Amon.
"You two go in. I'll hunt the neighborhood for Birsha's rats before I bring the doctor back," Mr. Tanner said, slowly withdrawing his fingers from my sex and sucking them clean as I watched, my eyes wide and lips parted. His head dipped, vast forehead pressed lightly to mine. "Thank you, little one."
"Don't hide from me again," I answered, tipping my chin up to graze my mouth against his briefly. "I want all of you."
Mr. Tanner growled, gaze glowing, but he didn't stop Auguste from gathering me up.
"Stay in the carriage. Cork will bring you some pants," Auguste said, grinning at his friend as he bundled me in my blanket and stepped out of the carriage. "And you, ma petite, are in need of a bath."
"And is my pastry chef in need of a treat?" I asked, waggling my eyebrows.
Auguste laughed, but I caught the blackening of his eyes by the light of the lamp. My night was far from over.
Chapter Nineteen
A Day of Absolutely Nothing
I woke up to a warm, long figure twined around my back, damp breath rushing over my shoulder. Dust caught in rays of sunlight glittered in front of my nose, and someone—presumably Cork—had opened the curtains to let the morning shine onto the bed, but she'd been more respectful of my sleep this time. Probably for Jonathon's sake rather than mine.
My body was heavy and a little achy, especially my thighs, and I wasn't sure if it was due to the use of Jonathon's electrical device or my enthusiastic riding of Mr. Tanner's cock. Both perhaps, I thought, my smile curling. I had fresh bites—nibbles really—on each breast from Auguste, and my sex was tender although not sore. I'd been well used the night before, but well cared for too, and the thought spread a smile over my lips.
I rolled, and Jonathon followed the momentum, turning onto his back, sunlight streaming over the freckles on his throat and chest, a lithe arm draped over his eyes. His mouth was slack, soft sighs puffing out in sleep, and I grinned at the slight tent of the sheet over his lap. It was time to return some of the care I'd enjoyed the night before.
I ducked beneath the sheet, wiggling carefully deeper onto the bed, eyeing the stand of the doctor's cock, rosy and nestled in darker copper curls, a glimpse of a dusky sac below. His legs were splayed just enough for me to climb over one and kneel between them. I waited for him to stir as I settled. Either he was a deep sleeper, or he was happy to let me have my way.
I ran a fingertip up from the base to the tip of his cock, watching it grow a little, darken and twitch, the head peeking out. He puffed in sleep, and his legs shifted, but there was no other sign of waking as I teased his arousal slowly and playfully, scooting closer and letting my hair caress his pale thighs as I ducked my head. I took just the swollen tip of him between my lips and suckled, running my tongue up and down the seam, and then flattening it under until he let out a sleepy moan. His hips bucked, and I took him in hand, giving him something to fuck as I licked every inch of his staff until the motion was smooth.
"Oh!" A caught breath, a whine, and then a low groan. "Fuck, Esther."
Ah, now he was awake. I wrapped my lips around my teeth and sucked Jonathon's cock down as far as I could, humming as he started to rut.
"Fuck! Christ, you wicked little thing, come here!"
Two hands tossed the sheet back and then caught me by my armpits, hauling me off my morning treat. I thought at first he was angry, his face flushed and eyes fierce, but then he threw me back into the mattress, climbing immediately atop me. Tight hands caught my wrists, pinning them to the pillows, and Jonathon's knees urgently shoved my own aside.
"Mr. Tanner is sleeping," Jonathon gasped. "Or giving me a fucking chance. I'm not wasting a second of it."
I opened my mouth—who said sucking cock was a waste—but all that came out was a strangled shout as Jonathon thrust himself inside of me with one desperate snap of his hips. I was sensitive from the night before, but Jonathon was an easy fit compared to Mr. Tanner's cock and I always woke up as wet as men woke up hard.
Jonathon released one wrist to wrap an arm around my waist, hauling me against him as he bucked and plunged and nailed me to the bed with his wild fucking.
"Oh god, Esther, forgive me," he rasped, without stopping.
I clutched at his back, finally catching my breath and able to meet him in his thrusts. "Don't stop, Jon, please!"
He groaned, bristled cheek rubbing against mine, and then found my mouth with his, tongue staking the same claim of me his cock did. We moaned, stroking and rubbing and riding one another, but his pace slowed as he kissed me, growing languid and tender.
"Not going to waste, and not going to rush," he said on a gasp, nose stroking against mine, eyes so fully blue as I rarely saw them.
He was rumpled from sleep, rosy-cheeked, and even with the sun catching in the gray of his hair, he looked so young. I wrapped myself around him, his hand on my wrist sliding up for our fingers to tangle together.
This was nice. No, nice was when a lad had the sense to hunt for your clit a little to make sure it felt decent for you too, as he went about his business of getting off.
This was lovely. And sweet. Jonathon rose onto his knees, finding a new angle that sapped me of strength and sanity, and I cried out his name in thanks. Our chests were growing sticky with sweat, breaths never quite catching.
"Esther, I-I—“ Jonathon groaned and dove down, teeth dragging over my bottom lip and hips starting to snap again. His fingers on my back dug in, and I reached my own up into his hair, tangling and pulling there until he gasped and gave me air again. "You have us now," he breathed out, gaze grabbing mine, a thread of green around his pupils. "Tanner and I. I—Fuuuck…"
My eyes grew swollen with tears, plain words unspoken between us, and I pressed my face into his throat, voice breathless.
"Yes, you're mine." My fingers tightened, and Jonathon let out a ragged groan, our bodies clapping together. If no one else had the sense to claim these men, then I would be the lucky fool who held on tight and never let go. It was too soon to say more, but in another month, after more strange and exciting nights and decadently tender mornings…
I whimpered as Jonathon pulled away slightly, but then his hand was reaching between us, finding my clit without a moment's hesitation and manipulating it with pinches and circles until my thighs were a vice around his hips, holding him to me as I arched and shuddered, pleasure bubbling up into emotion, the two blending together to choke my voice and then leave me limp. Jonathon wrapped both arms around me then, pinning me to the bed as he rocked inside of me and sucked a mark on my shoulder with hungry kisses until his patience collapsed into one quick and trembling release.
He was heavy, but not uncomfortably so, and neither of us released the other, arms and legs indelibly tangled in the bed, faces turning slowly to nuzzle and share breath. Auguste had begun my lessons on this art of connection, and Jonathon was strengthening my understanding even further. I wanted this every morning. I wanted him and Auguste, who was locked away somewhere.
My eyes opened to find Jonathon's, little crinkles in the corners from his smile.
"Good morning, Miss Reed," he said, perfectly polite.
I snorted and he grinned. "Good a
fternoon, I think, Dr. Underwood."
Jonathon hummed and glanced at the window, squinting against the light. "You might be right. Give me ten minutes more of this, and I'll order us lunch in bed." He rolled, but he took me with him, drawing me onto his chest. "I think we ought to do our best to do absolutely nothing today, don't you?"
"Absolutely nothing sounds lovely," I agreed, tracing a little pattern on the freckles of his chest.
Jonathon hummed, chest rising and falling quickly after the bout of lovemaking. It slowed under my touch as the minutes ticked by, and I grinned as I lifted my head to find him asleep again, every bit as innocent as he had been before I'd woken him. I pulled away slowly, hunting the room for my robe.
I would order us lunch myself, and then see if I could wake him for something else delicious—food or otherwise.
"What will we do about Birsha and Rooksgrave Manor?"
Jonathon had my leg up on his bare lap, my skin still silky soft from his massage, my sprained ankle warm and tender from his careful treatment. Neither of us had bothered dressing for the day, and Jonathon had done his best to teach me to play chess. I'd done a much better job of teaching him to play checkers.
"We…" he said, the both of us staring at one another for a beat, and he laughed. "We've sent word to Magdalena about our suspicions, but for now, the most concrete thing is that Birsha has seen you, and well…there would be no one in that theater who wouldn't covet you after last night. My knowledge is secondhand, but Mr. Tanner has made Birsha's acquaintance."
"Really?" I asked, sitting up on the chaise.
"Mm. Birsha tried to collect him. Mr. Tanner is a unique subject and, I think, impossible to kill. But disinclined to be owned."
"Unless it's by diminutive young women who have inclinations for being well fucked," I added, grinning at the shocked laughter that burst out of my tidy gentleman.
His eyes flashed green as he glanced back at me. "Quite. And it was at one of his houses where Tanner met Auguste."
I sat up at this revelation. "Wait. It was?"
"Mm. Not to either of their tastes," Jonathon said calmly, holding my stare.
Auguste had said he'd had lovers. He'd told me as much. Was it there at one of those cruel houses, or was that where he'd found a meal?
"So he knows who I'm with," I continued.
"And what house you're from, if he didn't already," Jonathon finished with a nod. "Magdalena has already frozen the manor from new guests, and her wards will be stronger and more targeted if she knows the threat. He wouldn't tell you himself, but Mr. Tanner isn't the sort of man anyone wants to cross. So Birsha will have a great deal to think about now that you've…you've claimed us.” His voice went soft and fond again at that, hand stroking up and down my calf as we both fought our giddy smiles, staring at one another.
"Auguste will be up soon," I said, glancing out the window as a lamp was lit on the street. The sky was turning a deep blue above the buildings.
"Will you wake him as you did me?" Jonathon teased.
My eyebrows bounced. "Can I?"
Jonathon grinned. "You haven't tried it yet?"
I shook my head rapidly. "I don't even know where in the house he is."
"I do."
There was something wicked and teasing in Jonathon's stare, and I bit my lip, scooting closer and leaning in. "Have you woken Auguste the way I woke you?"
Jonathon leaned in too, lips brushing over my cheek on their way to my ear. "He wakes hungry." My eyes widened and Jonathon drew back, studying me. "You don't mind, do you?"
"Tell me everything. Or better yet, show me!"
"It was an accident, actually, and just a bite…or two. But we've…helped each other out. As friends. He's not of much interest to Mr. Tanner, but I can't help but be curious about his condition."
Jonathon looked as though he was about to go into a medical discussion I wouldn't begin to understand, so I interrupted him. "Can I watch?"
Jonathon's laugh barked out again. "If I can watch first. Come on, I'll show you his hiding spot." He stood from the chaise and held out his hand for me to take, leaning in to whisper in my ear again. "But we can't let Cork see us. She guards him like a Doberman."
"He won't mind?" I asked, already on my tiptoes, heartbeat in my throat, either from the excitement of sneaking to Auguste or maybe the idea of watching my men together.
"Has Auguste ever minded you offering yourself up to him?" Jonathon asked, and I laughed in answer. "We'd better hurry, we probably only have a little time left till he wakes."
I hadn't seen a great deal of Auguste's house while staying. Only enough to know Auguste was both elegant and wealthy in a way I couldn't quite wrap my head around. Jonathon guided me through the upper hall, past a lavishly decorated sitting room, right to the end where there seemed to be nowhere else to go.
I gasped as Jonathon reached out to the half-panel wall, slipping his fingers under the border and pulling it like a latch, the entire wall swinging silently inward on a hinge. He grinned over his shoulder at me, eyebrows rising.
"We're mysterious creatures, love. We can't help but appreciate a secret panel. Follow me."
I bit my lip, giddy excitement twisting with the eerie dark of the stairwell we entered. I pushed the door shut behind me and froze in the blackness that surrounded us.
"Jonathon?" I whispered.
A pair of vivid green eyes appeared in front of me, making me jump, and then a familiar hand took mine. "It's all right. Mr. Tanner and I can see. You're safe."
I could barely make out Jonathon's features, but his voice was gentle and his other hand cupped my hip, guiding me carefully down the stairs. In the dark, it seemed to go on endlessly, and my heartbeat was loud in my ears, echoing with our steps and my catching breaths.
"You enjoy being a little frightened, don't you?" Jonathon asked.
I swallowed hard and nodded, and he hummed with thought.
"Auguste enjoys the hunt. The two of you could make a game of chase. And I already know how well you perform under command," Jonathon continued.
He was manipulating me, coaxing out my excitement, filling the darkness with visions of me at Auguste and his mercy.
"Ezra promised to surprise me with fucking," I murmured, and Jonathon chuckled.
"Oh, we'll care for your interests, little one," he said with a growl.
There was a warm light finally appearing, and I sighed as we reached the bottom of the stairs at last. Jonathon's eyes dimmed to blue and he reached a hand up, grazing his knuckles over my cheekbone.
"All right?"
I nodded eagerly, and he mimicked me.
"He'll recognize you quickly. Just hold still when he bites so it doesn't tear," Jonathon said, holding my gaze.
"I'll be good," I said, smiling as Jonathon rumbled, leaning in to kiss my brow.
"I know. You always are."
There was a thrill of awareness but also a comforting warmth at that praise, and then Jonathon turned us to a stone hall that opened out into a wine cellar. Another trick door, with a gentle rattle of old bottles, and we stepped into a small compartment lit only by one candle. In front of us was an old wooden door, and I wondered how long this room had existed here and what protected Auguste inside when he was in his sleep.
"It's generally locked, but I did hint to him we might come down," Jonathon said with a shrug.
I relaxed a little at that, relieved to know I wasn't about to disrupt Auguste's privacy completely, and stepped forward. The handle was old iron, and it stuck at first, the door groaning as I pushed it open.
I'd expected a room similar to the spaces we'd just passed through, cold stone and rough dirt floors, but of course, that wasn't suited to Auguste at all. The room inside was warm, lit faintly by rosy orbs near the door. The floor was layered with more dense soft carpets, and the walls were paneled with dark wood and jacquard wallpaper. It was a romantic space, close and intimate, and the main focus was the enormous four-poster bed directly in fro
nt of me, draped in thin silk and curtains of velvet.
I could just make out Auguste on the bed, glowing in red sheets. It wasn't a coffin, or a grave, but a beautifully welcoming picture, one I wanted to slide directly into. I untied the robe around my waist and did exactly that, running my fingers over the fabric surrounding the bed and then pushing it aside. Auguste looked like a painting, an angel collapsed in its fall from heaven. I tugged on the sheet draped over his hips, watching the reveal of his still form inch by inch with a hungry gaze. It was strange to see him lying there, breathless, but he didn't look dead to me, just like a work of art. One I was allowed to touch.
I glanced over my shoulder to find Jonathon watching, leaning against one of the posters, and he nodded at me.
"Go on. I'll join in a moment or two."
I bit my lip, crawling forward, smiling at the brief grunt from Jonathon as he admired the view of me. Auguste's arms were tossed above his head, body slightly angled on one hip, one knee bent and the other leg stretched to the edge of the bed. I ran my hand up the long leg, testing my grip on his thigh, watching his face for any movement.
"How do I get him hard?" I whispered, even though Auguste was obviously far from overhearing us.
"How do you usually?" Jonathon asked with humor.
I straddled my slumbering vampire, bending down to kiss his shoulders, his chest, pushing at his hip to roll him fully onto his back. He was heavier like this, and there was something frighteningly thrilling to know he was entirely oblivious to what I was up to, as if I were suddenly the predator. I reached for his cock, wrapping my fingers around his base, nibbling at one of his nipples, and was surprised to find it jump in my palm.
"It's his brain that's offline not—" I flashed Jonathon an arch look and he rolled his eyes. "Yes, fine. Lessons later. Hurry, you can't have much more time before sunset."
True, and this wasn't really about teasing Auguste awake like it had been with Jonathon this morning. I fisted Auguste's cock fully, pumping it as it swelled and stiffened in my hand.