Authors: Bec McMaster
Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #General, #Paranormal, #Science Fiction, #Steampunk
“Open for me,” he demanded, pressing his hips into the vee of her thighs. “Spread your sweet thighs, Honor.”
Cool air traced the skin of her inner thighs. Her skirts were heaped around her waist in disarray. No doubt she looked like a blowsy wench about to be tumbled. And for once she didn’t give a damn.
“That’s it,” he breathed. The tip of his finger parted the delicate folds of her flesh, stroking the lush pearl deep within.
Honoria’s mouth widened in a silent gasp. She clutched at his neck with both hands, her hips jerking. “Oh, God. Oh, don’t stop.”
“I ain’t goin’ to.” He found the precise spot that sent a spear of lightning through her.
Her vision went blank. She cried out, throwing her head back.
“Like that?” he whispered. His other hand was furtively tugging at her drawers.
For a moment the feather-light touch was gone as he dragged them down. He pressed her thighs wide, leaving her exposed and vulnerable. A dashing kiss against her lips and then he was working his way lower, scattering little kisses down her throat, over the flushed skin of her breasts as they heaved over the top of her bodice and then lower…a wet, open-mouthed kiss against her inner thigh. His tongue darted out. Tasted. Honoria’s hands sank into the guinea-gold silk of his hair, and she stared in shocked fascination as he glanced up at her.
The next kiss was directly between her legs. The soft dark curls hid the sight of his mouth, but she felt it through her entire body as his tongue darted out.
“What are you doing?” she gasped. Her eyes nearly rolled back in her head as he nuzzled at her tender flesh. It was indescribable. Horrifically embarrassing. But she couldn’t have asked him to stop if she’d wanted to.
Blade slung her knees over his shoulders as he knelt in front of her and tongued her tender flesh. Cupping her buttocks in both hands he pressed his face deep between her thighs and drank in the wetness that drenched her.
She couldn’t breathe. Her stays, no doubt, digging into her ribs. Another soft cry left her lips and she shuddered as that strange, restless feeling began to build within her. It felt exactly as it had when his mouth had been on her thigh, drinking her blood.
Blade looked up and wiped his mouth on his wrist.
“Don’t stop,” she gasped.
“I want to be inside you,” he growled. “I want to feel you come ’round me.” Standing, he dragged her hips to the edge of the dresser. The towel hit the floor. “I want to
own
you.”
“You do.” She gasped as he rubbed his erection between her thighs. It was exquisite torture against her heated flesh. She writhed helplessly, tormented by the brooding storm beneath her skin. It hurt to keep it contained.
“Only me,” he demanded.
“Only you.” She sobbed the words, trying to draw him closer.
The head of his cock brushed against her, dipping into the molten recesses of her body. Honoria sucked in a quick breath, her nails digging into his skin. “Oh.” Stretching wider. Almost uncomfortable. She scrabbled at the vanity, her hips shifting to ease the sudden hot ache.
Cradling her in his arms, Blade thrust and buried himself to the hilt.
Honoria’s shocked cry echoed in the room. Blade stroked her face, her lips, her eyebrows. A kiss to steal her breath. Without any feminine figures in her life to explain this, all her knowledge had been gleaned from textbooks. But they had never described anything like
this
.
It burned. Honoria clung to his shoulders, her mouth and eyes wide with shock. Blade trembled, his forehead resting against hers as though he fought to restrain himself. His thick, gold lashes fluttered against his cheeks. Stroking her face, her lips, trailing tender fingers across her cheeks, he looked up. Black eyes met hers.
“Mine,” he whispered. A shudder went through him, his hands raking down her back to cup her bottom. “
Mine
.” The second word could have belonged to a different voice.
His hips moved. The sensation was raw; for a moment she was not entirely certain if it was pain or pleasure or a curious blending of both. Another thrust, the odd pleasure-pain shooting through her. It was too much for her. Too much. The restless storm within her began a slow burn, fingers of lightning licking along her nerves.
Candlelight gleamed on his skin as he pumped inside her, slowly at first, then faster, his hips meeting hers with the sound of flesh slapping against flesh. She wanted to taste him, she realized. Wanted to lick. To bite. Kissing his throat, she nuzzled up beneath his chin and drew his lower lip between her teeth.
Blade wrapped a hand in her hair. “No.” The next thrust earned a gasp. “God, don’t kiss me.”
His words sent a shaft of hurt through her. Rejection. And then she realized what he meant. He wasn’t thinking only of sex right now. Both of his needs had collided and he was fighting hard not to succumb.
Honoria’s hand swept back to support herself and brushed against the razor he used to shave with. Eyes widening, she clung to him with the other hand, her back hitting against the mirror. His hand slid over hers, cool fingers pressing her palm down until the handle of the razor imprinted itself in her skin.
Their eyes met. “Do it,” she whispered, and kissed his lips. Slowly she withdrew her own hand, leaving the razor beneath his.
A shudder ran through him. The next thrust was forceful, rocking her back. And then he had the razor at her throat.
Honoria cried out at its sweet pierce. His mouth latched onto her neck, hot and greedy, seeming to draw straight from the lush button between her thighs. The edge of the storm curled over her. She could barely think for the rush of sensation.
Teeth grazed her throat. A hint of warning. Her body clamped around his, greedily clutching at his cock. Honoria gasped, her eyes widening sightlessly as the climax took her. She was drowning in a sea of need, barely aware of the feel of his hands on her, stroking her back, or the sudden, stiffening shudder as he collapsed against her.
Sweat gleamed on her skin. She felt lush and weak, her body throbbing in the aftermath. If
that
was why women fell into sin, then she could not blame them.
With a shuddering gasp, Blade lifted his head to stare at her. He looked as though he’d never seen her before, or her like. “Bloody ’ell,” he whispered in a tone not unlike awe.
Chapter 23
Blade stepped into the tub with Honoria in his arms and sank into the scented heat. The candles had burned low, and the light was muted. Little licks of steam curled off the surface of the water.
He felt whole. Renewed. And nowhere near sated. He wanted to take her again, to rut over her like a bloody selfish bastard, when she had never done this before.
Adjusting her in his arms, he frowned at the vanity that he’d just fucked her upon. Her dress, chemise, and stays were puddled in a heap on the floor. It had been all he could do not to take her again as he caught a glimpse of the rosy-tipped curve of her breasts, or the smooth plane of her stomach. Mastering the impulse, he’d picked her up and stepped into the tub before he could do something he’d regret.
Honoria snuggled against his chest, the long strands of her hair floating on the water. She seemed relaxed, but the previous scene between them was only a vignette of memories in his mind as the hunger overruled him. Had he hurt her? He’d given her pleasure, he knew that, but did she regret it?
“You shouldn’t ’ave come to me tonight,” he said gruffly.
She looked up. Water spiked her eyelashes together. “Why not?” A sudden smile darted across her lips. “I should have come to you a long time ago.”
His breath caught. “You ain’t sore?”
At that she looked down as though mentally cataloging the feel of her own body. The neat little slash at her throat had closed over, but his eyes dropped to the mark and stayed there.
“Yes. And no.” She settled back into his arms, her back cradled against his chest. Blade shifted at the stir of desire that flushed through him. Her skin was slick against his. She had to feel the firmness of his cock against her buttocks.
“It was like nothing I’ve ever felt before.”
“Aye,” he murmured.
Me
too
.
Taking up the washcloth, he suddenly busied himself with the soap. Honoria watched with lazy abandon, seemingly content to lie in his arms.
“You want to do it again, don’t you?” she whispered.
He almost dropped the soap. “Not tonight.”
“Liar.” Christ, when had her voice turned to smoke? It liquefied his insides, his cock throbbing at the sound.
Fingers brushed against his thigh. “I don’t think I would mind,” she said tentatively.
Blade stroked the washcloth down her arm. He kissed her shoulder. “Do you want me to touch you?”
She stirred restlessly. Still innocent enough to feel embarrassment at her needs and desires.
He could do this, he thought. Give her pleasure without the taking of it. Slowly he dragged the cloth across her chest, over the swell of her breast.
Honoria sucked in a gasp.
“Where do you want me to touch you?” he murmured, circling the rosy pucker of her nipple. “Here?” Soap gleamed on her skin. He dragged the cloth lower, into the depths of the water. Oil stirred on the surface, leaving shimmering little marks against her flushed skin. He slid the cloth between her thighs, burying a kiss in her hair as she arched her hips.
“
Oh
,” she breathed.
“Or ’ere?” He dragged the cloth back up, rasping over the sweet flesh between her thighs.
Honoria stiffened, her breath coming in harsh little pants. “There.”
Blade smiled. “But I ain’t seen your lovely tits before.” He abandoned the washcloth and reached for the small vial of scented oil that sat on the bath rim. “You’re too impatient, luv. You don’t know ’ow good it can be.”
Easing the stopper out, he tipped the vial and splashed oil over her breasts. With his other arm, he dragged her higher so that she was exposed, the water sitting just beneath them.
Her hand caught his, fluttering, trying to decide whether to cover herself or not.
“There ain’t no shame. Not ’tween us,” he murmured into her ear, and put the vial down. Oil gleamed on her skin, the light refracting a thousand different colors. Blade smeared it across her gleaming chest, his hands cupping the slight swell of her breasts. Just a handful. Just enough. A purr started in his throat.
Her nipples were erect, practically begging for his mouth. He pinched them between his thumb and forefinger, the oil making them slip. Honoria’s fingers dug into his thigh.
“Sweet lord,” she whispered.
One hand sank into the wet curls between her legs. He wanted to feel her. The oil staining his fingers made it easy to slip within her, nestled in the burning heat. A cry tore from her throat. She was hopelessly vocal, ungiven to any thoughts of disguising her pleasure.
Every gasp, every writhing wriggle was bliss to him. He brought her to the edge with his fingertips and took her over, listening to her scream. The darkness stirred its hungry head, but Blade forced his eyes shut and curled her up in his arms.
“Shush,” he whispered, pressing a kiss against the top of her head.
The sound from her lips was halfway between a sob and a pant. She melted against him in a boneless heap, the silk of her skin driving him to distraction.
A sudden rush of tenderness flooded through him, bittersweet with regret. He’d never given much thought to a wife. Though there had been many women through his bed over the years, and even friendships with quite a few, none had tempted him to dream of anything else. Until now.
When it was too late.
“I wish I’d found you earlier,” he said. Before his CV levels became so high. How long did he have before the Fade took him? Months? A year? He could not subject her to that.
Honoria glanced over her shoulder at him, her skin flushed with the heat of the water. A blush stained her cheeks. “I wish…I hadn’t been such a fool,” she replied. “I wish I’d come to you earlier. So much could have been avoided.”
“Trust is somethin’ as must be earned,” he admitted.
Honoria turned her body in the tub and straddled his hips. Oil gleamed across her breasts as she rested her palms on his chest. Leaning forward, she nibbled at his mouth. “I was wrong,” she admitted. “You’re a good man.”
Blade caught her wrists and smiled darkly. “Don’t cast all your prejudices aside,” he murmured. “I ain’t good.”
She smiled. “You’re terribly wicked, of course.”
“Sometimes.” He drew her closer, then slid his hands down her body. His gaze followed, darkening. “And sometimes I’m just a bastard.” To be thinking of taking her again, so soon.
Honoria sucked in a breath and flexed her hips. Blade stilled, his gaze meeting hers.
“Easy, luv. Don’t stir the devil, or you’ll ’ave to pay the consequences.”
“I’m not sure I have any coin on me,” she said, leaning closer and kissing the stubbled roughness of his jaw. “Do you think he would accept my favors instead?” A sultry whisper in his ear.