The Copper and the Madam (10 page)

“Have you ever touched yourself, darlin’?
Brought yourself to a climax?”

She bit her lip. “A couple of times.”

“When? After you watched me fuck?”

“Yes.”

Rory’s pace increased. He sucked on her
breast while his fingers worked magic on her quim. A low, guttural
moan escaped her lips. Her peak built. The sensation was far more
intense than the few times she had done it to herself.

Rea did not fight the wash of sensations
inundating her body nor did she bite back the deep-throated groans
leaving her mouth. Rory’s tongue flicked across her hardened
nipple, his mouth closed over it. Her orgasm hit her firm and
swift. She cried out, her hips rising off the bed as she
shuddered.

Rory moved back and watched her reach her
peak. A smile broke across his handsome face. “Beautiful,” he
murmured in satisfaction. “Just bloody beautiful.”

“What?” she gasped.

“You, love, and your climax. Stunning to
observe. I want to give you more.”

Taking deep breaths, Rea laid her hand on his
erection.

“No, please. Let me do for you.”

While still basking in the glow of her
release, she gathered the courage to offer to bring Rory to his.
She had to try. She had to know if she could bear to touch his
naked flesh. He opened his mouth to protest, but she shook her
head.

“No, Rory. I will not argue with you on this.
I must try. Don’t you understand?”

He frowned. “Very well, but I do not think
this is a good idea. We should wait....”

Rea reached for the fall of his trousers and
began to undo the buttons. Rory lifted his hips and allowed her to
pull them down to his knees, along with his britches.

He was larger than most. She swallowed her
trepidation and stared the very hard and aroused part of him.
Prominent veins snaked around the entire length. He pulsed with
life, strength, and maleness.

Pushing Rory to lie flat on his back, she
straddled his knees. Taking a deep, fortifying breath she grasped
his cock. It felt rigid, hot, and alive in her hand. Tentatively,
she ran her hand down to the root and back up. He groaned.

Rory Kerrigan. A man she could trust. A man
she
did
trust. She squeezed her eyes shut and stroked.
Rory’s sensual moans faded from her hearing. His delicious scent
enveloped her, but quickly disappeared. A cold, familiar feeling
covered her. She heard a nameless, gruff voice.

“Faster, bitch! Grip it tighter!”

She felt a hand crack her across the mouth.
She could smell the liquor, tobacco, and sweat. Rory had vanished.
She tried to open her eyes to prove to herself Rory lay under her,
but her fright would not allow it. Rea closed them tighter to try
and block out the horrible memories.

Another man laughed cruelly. “Have her suck
it!”

A large hand grabbed a handful of her hair
and pushed her down. She cried out in pain. “Go on, whore, do
it!”

Both men laughed. Her mouth closed over the
cock. Behind her, the other man entered her quim. Tears spilled
down her cheeks. She hated this life. Hated these men, her
customers. Hated sex.

Hot liquid spilled in her hand. She stilled.
The ordeal had come to an end.

“Rhiannon! Open your eyes, answer me!” Rory
called out.

She couldn’t. The bleak memories pulled her
into the darkness, she knew in her soul she would never, ever be
able to escape.

Rhiannon trembled. His climax had been empty
and meaningless. Rory had tried to hold his release, but he’d been
too aroused. Rhiannon had slipped away from him to a dark place.
Her face grimaced with distaste; her lips curled in disgust. By the
look of revulsion on her face, he could only hope it had nothing to
do with him. Did touching him cause her to react in such a way?

She still gripped him and, damn his body, he
hardened again. He pried her fingers from his cock. Grabbing his
britches, he cleaned up his seed. Rory sat upright and cupped her
face.

“Open your eyes and come back to me,
Rhiannon,” he said.

A single tear escaped from her wet lashes. He
stroked her pale cheeks with the pads of his thumbs.

“It’s Rory, love. Look at me.”

He kissed her with a gentle brush of his
lips. At last, her eyes opened.

“Rory?”

He hugged her tight. “Yes. Rory.”

“Oh, God....” she moaned.

His heart squeezed tight in his chest. He
faced a situation more difficult than he had imagined. What
horrific memories must have haunted her soul for them to break
through in such a way? They had to defeat them. His proposal might
do more damage than good. But they had come too far to turn
back.

He smoothed her hair, and then pulled back,
cupping her face again.

“You were somewhere else, weren’t you?”

She nodded, her eyes wide, showing her
lingering fright.

“We are going to do this again. As you can
see, I am able. Listen to me, darlin’. I want you to sit on my
knees like you did before, only this time we are going to do this
together. You are to keep your focus on me the whole time. You
follow?”

She did not answer.

“Rhiannon, I’ve told you before, you are one
of the bravest women I know. You can do this. We will battle your
terrible memories. Don’t give up on me, lass. We’ve come so far.”
He knew his voice did not hide the emotions rolling through him.
He’d never had these feelings for a woman, and be damned if he
would let her slip away without a struggle.

“Very well.”

Rory exhaled in relief and lay on his back.
He clasped her hands and laid them on his throbbing prick. It would
not take much; he teetered on the knife’s edge.

“Rhiannon. Do not blink or close your eyes.
Stay focused on my face. Fight the memories. You are here with me,
and I will never, ever hurt you. Do you believe me?”

“Yes, Rory. I believe you.”

Thank Christ
. He moved their joined
hands up and down his cock in a slow, rhythmic motion. His gaze
locked with hers.

“See what you do to me, darlin’? No woman has
ever caused me to be this hard before. You are so beautiful.”

“You are beautiful, too, Rory. I always
thought so. Since I first saw you at Whitehall Place all those
years past,” she whispered.

His heart lurched with delight. Truth be
told, he had not noticed Rhiannon until a few years before. Having
her plump, naked, and curvy body sitting astride him fulfilled
every dream he had of her.

He groaned. His cock swelled and ached for
release. He moved their hands at a faster pace. Rory studied her
closely. She showed no fear or disgust this time. Though her cheeks
still appeared a trifle pale, her eyes were bright and alive.
Holding nothing back, he moaned loudly, encouraged her to grip
tighter, to move her finger over the weeping slit of his cock. She
did, and his head came off the pillow as he cried out in
ecstasy.

The climax built, his sac tightened,
then—release. He yelled, all the cords in his neck tightened, yet
he remained fixed on Rhiannon. Hot cum coated their clasped hands.
He couldn’t catch his breath. He inhaled then exhaled in short
puffs.

“Are you all right, darlin’?

“Yes, I am,” she answered, surprise in her
tone.

Rhiannon let him go and moved off the bed.
She reached for the cloth near the basin and returned. Straddling
him once again, she wiped away his seed. He watched her light
movements, stunned to feel arousal stirring deep inside once
again.

She tossed the cloth back to the table,
pulled off his britches and trousers, and tossed them to the floor.
Rhiannon curled up next to him, laying her head on his chest. She
rested her hand above his rapidly beating heart.

“Rhiannon. I want more with you. I want to
bury myself deep inside you and stay there forever. But I am a
patient man. We will move at a pace you are comfortable with. Do
you want more between us, love? Tell me what you are feeling.”

A damned sticky business, revealing his heart
and emotions. The vulnerability of it balked against his core
being. The last twenty-four hours had cemented his feelings toward
her. He’d never been in love before, if what he felt could be
called love. He could not speak of it aloud, not until he was sure
of his own thoughts, and not until Rhiannon could return them.

She caressed his chest, the contact setting
his skin aflame. She sighed.

“I do want more between us, Rory. Is it
possible? Are you proposing a brief dalliance?”

He hated that word, “dalliance.” The damned
aristocrats used the word to describe a meaningless affair. He
wanted something more substantial.

“No, not a dalliance, but an alliance. Take
one day at a time. I only want to be with you, Rhiannon, going
forward. Do you understand what I mean? I want no other woman but
you.”

“For now, you mean.”

How to answer when the future remained a
damned muddle?

“For now, aye. With the possibility of
longer.”

Rhiannon murmured her agreement and snuggled
in closer. She soon fell fast asleep. No doubt about it. He had
just fallen off the edge of a cliff.

***

Rory dealt with the porter at the train
station. They were catching the earliest train they could. The wool
of his coat hugged his body, showing every muscled part of him, so
handsome in his finery. Now that Rea knew what stunning perfection
lay under those clothes, he had become all the more appealing.

Waking up at dawn, encased in his arms
exceeded all her fantasies. They’d been curled together like two
spoons in a pantry drawer. His large, capable hands cupped her
breasts, his erection at her back, his warm, sultry breath
whispering naughty things in her ear. The temptation to cast aside
her worries and concerns and demand he take her fast and hard
became harder to deny. Instead, they’d brought each other to
release again. The intimacy between them crackled with a life of
its own, even now in the brightness of day in the middle of the
busy station.

Rory climbed into the coach and slammed the
door. He removed his hat and tossed it to the seat next to her.

“What do you have there, Rhiannon?” he said,
pointing to the bundle on her lap.

“A light luncheon prepared by the innkeeper’s
wife. Turkey sandwiches and cheese, I believe. She made me promise
if ‘Lord and Lady Blackburn’ were ever back this way, to please
stay at their inn again. They would be honored. I admit I did enjoy
playing Lady Blackburn.”

“I left the innkeeper a sizable gratuity. I
am sure the name ‘Blackburn’ will be on his lips for some time.”
Rory smiled.

The train whistle blew and steam hissed.

“At our first stop, I will send Cian a
telegraph. Have him start surveillance on Southen’s townhouse at
Hyde Park Corner.”

Yes. Back to reality. This one day and night
with Rory had been a brief, enjoyable break from the troubles in
London. Gordon’s murder and her possible connection to it worried
her. A shiver coiled about her spine.

“I’ll be packing a bag and moving in with you
until we know what is going on. I want you safe,” Rory said.

He always knew what she felt and thought
about. Uncanny.

“It is not necessary. I have Jacob and the
rest for protection. I rarely venture out at any rate.”

He lifted her gloved hands to his mouth and
kissed them. “Indulge me. I would feel better knowing I am there at
night. Besides, I want to wake up in the morning just as we did
today. I want us to explore further physically. Get to know each
other better. You want the same, do you not, Rhiannon?”

She did. Moving Rory into her bedroom and her
life would be an enormous step. She would be announcing to all at
The Blind Cupid that she and Rory were a couple. Perhaps, for once,
other women would be envious of her. Cora would be. She’d enjoyed
Rory’s attentions in the past. Well, no longer. Rory belonged to
her. The inner declaration felt right.

“I do want the same, Rory. Very much so.”

He let go and sat back in his seat. “It is
settled. Now then, I will be taking you up on your request I share
about my job. I did not get a chance to tell you what I learned
from the parish constable.”

As Rea listened to Rory’s recollection of the
conversation of the previous night, her heart stilled in her chest.
An icy frost covered it. The similarities between the murders were
difficult to ignore.

“Will you tell your inspector?”

“I will give him my theory, and that is all
it is—a theory. I have no proof to tie it all together. We need to
locate Southen first.”

Rory would find him. She had every confidence
in his skill. Maybe it was—what did he call it—circumstantial, but
she believed in Rory’s gut instinct and would be vigilant going
forward.

***

Early Evening

Southen tapped his cane against the carriage
wall, and the conveyance came to an abrupt stop not far from The
Blind Cupid. Taggart sidled up to the open window.

Southen moved aside the curtain and crinkled
his nose in disgust at the rank odor of tobacco and horse shit from
the man.

“Well? What have you to report?”

“The copper returned with a blonde woman
early this afternoon. He came back out shortly thereafter and
hasn’t returned.”

“What do I care about a blonde woman?” he
snapped.

“I didn’t think much of it at first, but this
woman’s as fat as the madam, even walked the same way. She could be
going out in disguise.”

Southen frowned. Did the corpulent madam have
suspicions? No doubt that idiot copper had put ideas in her head.
He couldn’t put this off much longer.

“Enough dawdling about. Find out when the
merchants come to call at that place and the routine of the house.
I want to know how many bullyboys she has sequestered away. I’ll be
back tomorrow, and have the information for me or be damned if I
will pay you!”