Assassin's Kiss (3 page)

Seth’s cock was raging so furiously now with her soft hand pressed into it that it was near impossible to think with any clarity, but he called upon all the composure practiced in a long career lived in the shadows to grit his teeth and look only into her eyes. “Esther, I have never forced a woman into my bed, and I do not intend to start now – not when I know you want this just as much as I do.”

“I do not -”

“You are a liar, my lady, but for you I will wait for the truth!” Breathing far too heavily, he let loose her hand despite his cock’s demands to the contrary. “Would you care to attend to yourself before you retire for the night?”

She was terrified of him, but underlying her fear was the same senseless lust he felt, of that he was certain. Grimly revelling in that, Seth jerked his head towards the door to their right when she cautiously nodded.

“Come then, devil woman. The washstand is in a walk-in cupboard attached to the bedroom.”

“Your bedroom?”

“There is only one bedroom here, Esther. Yes, my bedroom!”

Esther gave a tiny gasp, and when his fingers wound through hers she broke free to dart through the open door ahead of him, already disappearing into the small room by the time he caught up with her. Unable to stand still, Seth stalked back and forth lighting each one of the candles, determined to see as much of her as possible when she emerged; and when the door opened again, he was fervently grateful for his foresight. A feverish lustre shone in her eyes and the top three buttons of her thin blouse were already undone.

His breath caught in his throat as a fresh explosion of lust stole away what little remained of his self-control. “What are you doing, woman?” he asked incredulously. If he did not know better, he would think her intoxicated, but the ghost of a smile playing on those full lips forced that suspicion aside. Esther was back in control now, and it seemed she intended to tighten her grasp on the situation.

“I am undressing for bed,” she said calmly. “If you do not intend to rape me, then I am in no danger. I need somewhere to sleep for the night, and it seems this is the only option open to me.”

She shrugged her torn blouse down past her shoulders and let it fall away, leaving only her thin chemise to cover her breasts. The light of the winter moon combined with the candles to strip away most of the scant modesty it afforded her. The dark circles of her breasts shone through the chemise, and he swallowed hard as he drew nearer as if compelled when her hands moved towards her skirt.

This was madness. Esther knew that, but though her hands shook as she unbuttoned her skirt and stepped out of it, the fevered lust that burned in her veins made it impossible to even consider stopping. The way he touched her drove aside everything but the guilty, forbidden arousal that now consumed her. She was on fire, and there was only one cure.

Glancing up at the assassin through deliberately lowered lashes, she let her hands brush against her breasts with a low sigh, imagining it was his hands there once more. He had relentlessly driven her arousal higher and higher, and now it was all she could think of despite the simmering fear she still felt. To her sex was always something to be used as a weapon, but with this dangerous assassin she feared it would be so much more.

His hand closed around her shoulder as she leaned against the bedpost in a futile attempt to recompose herself. “Let me get this straight, Esther,” he said slowly. “You are disrobing before me, but you still have no intention of inviting me to take every advantage of that?”

Esther’s breath hitched. Not bothering to answer with words, she pulled away from him, lifted her left foot onto the bedside chair and studiously unlaced her boot. She wanted to goad him, to push him so far he would forget his vow and forcibly carry her off to the bed that had been waiting since she first stepped through the door at his side; and it seemed to her the very best way to do that was to carry on in this manner.

Behind her the assassin whistled through his clenched teeth, and when she glanced over her shoulder there was an ominous warning etched into the taut lines of his face. It did nothing to dissuade her, for if only she could succeed, she could pretend to the both of them she had not wanted this anywhere near as much as she did. She should not want him, not when he had driven a knife through the heart of the last man she shared a bed with, but he let enough slip for her to realise they had both gone to Fleetwood’s house under the direction of another. Though that did not lessen the scale of the danger she was in, it was enough that she could allow herself the furtive pleasure he wanted to force upon her.

Kicking off her boot, Esther slowly rolled her stocking down her thigh and found herself powerless to look away from him as she finally spoke again. “Tell me; have you ever shared your bed with a woman just as capable as you are of taking control, sir?”

Her words sounded as if it was someone else entirely speaking them using her mouth. The gentle challenge did not pass the assassin by, and his thin lips twitched as he slowly began to advance on her. As she let loose her stocking and set to work unlacing the second of her boots, he came to a halt at her side and rested his hand against the bare skin of her thigh.

“I have not, Esther, but the more of yourself you reveal to me, the more fervently I find myself wanting to experience that particular pleasure,” he said hoarsely. “Continue disrobing before I find myself unable to resist the urge to assist you.”

The flash of metal at his wrist made his words all too clear. The unspoken threat should have terrified her, but instead all she could think of was how scintillating his touch was. His fingers spread against her thigh, teasing and coaxing her arousal higher still as they threatened to move towards the one spot that cried out for his touch. Her breath grew shallow as her boot and stocking joined the others on the floor, and before a loud moan could fly from her lips she pulled away and turned her back on him once more.

Only her undergarments remained now. Removing them could finish only one way, but when she craved that now with everything she was Esther could not hold back. Surrendering herself into the skilled hands and command of the dangerous assassin thrilled her more than anything before. For far too long she had had to take control of everything, always on alert and ready to issue life changing – or ending – orders at a moment’s notice. The assassin’s arrival in her life might have ruined everything she had been working towards, but she no longer cared. All that mattered was that she gave herself over to the compelling urge to submit to him in every way.

No man had the power to do this to her; no man but him. She hesitated, suddenly shy until he groaned heavily behind her, the full height of desperation carried in that simple sound betraying he was suffering just as much as she was.

“Esther, I must insist you continue,” he said, his low and gravelly voice sending a fresh tremor of lust twisting through her veins even before she felt the tip of his blade come to rest against her spine, nestled just above the top of her chemise. “I am not a patient man, and you have already seen the proof tonight of the danger I pose. Believe me, woman, you do not want to fray my temper!”

Esther bit her lip as she twisted her head towards the assassin, her eyes heavy-lidded and filled with the same frenzied lust she saw in his. He clearly understood all he saw in their depths, for the frustration faded from the taut lines of his face and he slowly nodded.

“I see, I think. Do you desire my help, my lady?”

The distinct note of possessiveness in his words thrilled her. This was madness to trust him, but she found herself slowly nodding and holding as still as she could with him so near, holding her breath as he breathed in sharply and clasped the silk between the thumb and forefinger of his left hand. The barest tip of the knife nestled so snugly against his right wrist tickled against her spine, the metal unnaturally warm as it steadily began to glide downwards.

Should he so choose he could kill her where she stood. It was a risk worth taking.

Esther sighed as the night air danced across her skin, powerless to quench the fever the assassin’s touch spiked. Her chemise fell forward, slipping down past her shoulders now the knife had so neatly sliced it open, and as she held her breath his hands closed around her bare shoulders.

“Turn to face me, Esther,” he said softly, his thumbs now stroking across her throat as his knife slipped back into the bone. “If you are so determined to put on this scintillating show for my benefit, the very least you can do is permit me to feast my eyes on your beautiful breasts before this madness you seem to have fallen prey to departs.”

He was right. This
was
madness, but still that awareness could not touch her. Her heart skipped a beat as she turned and closed her eyes tightly, not opening them until the assassin let loose an awestruck curse, pulling the remnants of her chemise away from her breasts to expose them entirely to the hunger in his eyes.

Esther was intoxicated by the force of that very same hunger that drove her on. Placing all she was in the assassin’s hands was reckless in the extreme, the antithesis of the way she had learned to live since everything changed – but she had never wanted anything more. As she gazed up at him, watching his eyes darken until they were as black as the night outside, he slowly ran his tongue across his parted lips.

“Are you going to finish for me then, Esther?” he said. His low voice was mesmeric, driving aside all thoughts of anything that was not him. “I see little point in you retaining this last attempt at modesty, not when we both know how this tryst will surely conclude.”

Her hands hooked around the top of her undergarments before he finished speaking, leaping to obey him with no conscious command. The drapes were open still, but she did not even care. All that was out there this time of night were the beings who would not even notice her, after all. The only one present to see her was the assassin, and the fierce lust he made no attempt to hide thrilled her more than anything before.

She knew that men found her attractive. It was not something that particularly pleased her, but it was something she had often used to her advantage – but tonight, she wanted nothing more than to take all this man had to offer, with no deceit or hidden motives. Still powerless to look away from him, she removed the last scrap of silk covering her body and inhaled as his hands moved lower, skimming over the curve of her breasts with a low groan laden with lust.

A faint dusting of snow had begun to fall since they reached the guesthouse, and despite the frenzied fever running through her veins Esther shivered.      

The assassin’s hands came to rest upon her waist, but his eyes were still fixed firmly upon hers as he quietly spoke. “Are you cold, my lady?”

She mutely nodded.

“Then I suggest you dive beneath the covers before I resort to a far more pleasurable way to warm you up, with your permission or without it.”

For a moment she yearned to throw herself into his waiting arms instead, but still she needed him to take this from her. She could not find it within herself to meekly give it up. Though her body silently screamed in protest, she turned her back on him, inwardly glorying in the sharp breath he drew as she bent over the bed to draw back the covers. With a ghost of a smile she stretched out on top of the sheets and then slowly drew the blankets up her body, pretending not to notice the way his face contorted when she covered her breasts up once more.

Esther stared up at the ceiling, seizing a much-needed chance to recompose herself before the assassin’s voice broke the tense silence that had settled between them. “There is only one bed, you realise, and I do not intend to forsake it simply because you are in it. Indeed, that only increases its appeal.”

“It does not surprise me to hear you say so. But why, then, are you still standing on the other side of the room?”

“Because, Esther, you have undressed for bed, and now it is time for me to do likewise,” he said, his voice steady in spite of the fire in his eyes. “Of course, I watched you avidly whilst you removed your clothes, so it seems only fair that I invite you to watch me in turn. I assure you I will revel in the pleasure that the sight of me undressing will undoubtedly bring you.”

“You are very arrogant, sir!”

“Arrogant? No. I am merely confident, Esther, and with good reason. Watch and you will find out why.” The assassin smiled, clearly recovering his composure as he circled the room to come and stand at the foot of the bed. Her breath quickened as he steadily stripped away each layer covering his chest, holding out his tie with a lift of one dark brow before dropping it onto the bed.

The unspoken suggestion was impossible to miss. Esther swallowed hard as he turned his attention to the buttons of his crisp shirt, painfully aware she was fast losing the upper hand once more. She did not want to watch him, but it seemed her body was no longer hers to control. Each button that fell open beneath his touch revealed more of his tanned, taut chest and the sparse black hairs that covered it, displaying a broad and muscular physique his clothes had concealed until now.

The assassin would have no difficulty in bending her to his will as he earlier threatened, and that thrilled her far more than it should. The one small mercy was that he seemed oblivious to her wide-eyed scrutiny. Whistling quietly, he tugged his shirt away as the candlelight flickered and she stared wide-eyed at the snaking path of black hair that disappeared into his trousers. As he kicked off his boots and reached for his belt buckle, though, their eyes briefly met and he tipped her the smallest of winks.

“Like what you see so far, my lady?”

To Esther’s consternation, a hot flush blazed across her face when he unfastened the belt and squared his shoulders as the trousers fell down past the narrow flare of his hips. He wore nothing beneath them, and his cock sprung up to demand her attention, rock hard and full of temptation. The spark in his eyes told her how much he was enjoying the sight of her renewed discomposure, and they both knew that if she stared at him even a moment longer she would be lost to him.

Esther rolled over to face the wall, but no sooner had she done so than she realised the height of her folly. The assassin instantly dived beneath the covers and wrapped his bare body around hers, his arm draped possessively across her stomach to hold her against him as he buried his face in her hair and inhaled deeply.

“I want to taste you on my tongue, Esther,” he said under his breath, his intimate hold impossible to escape even if she were able to summon up the will to try. “I have you beneath my hands now, but it is not enough. You are like a drug to me, and the longer I have you here with me the more I crave you. All you have to say is no and I will stop, but until I hear that word I fully intend to devote myself to possessing everything you are.”

The assassin’s mouth came to rest against her bare collarbone. His breath felt like fire against her skin, and the slow-building fever that sparked the moment she looked into his eyes began to spiral out of control. She yearned for more, and the realisation that all she had to do was stay silent emboldened her. Arching into him, she let her head roll to the side, a mute invitation he instantly took her up on.

He kissed the side of her throat, gently at first and then with ever more passion when she did not resist him. Tugging the soft skin between his teeth to brand her with his kiss as tiny explosions of lust assailed each inch of bare skin that his skin touched, his cock pushed against the small of her back in a wordless demand that threatened to tear her defences to shreds. She clenched her lips together and stared into the distance. She would not beg him, but she would not ask him to stop either.

Their bodies were so close that she could feel every measured breath he took, their hearts in time with each other now as he lifted his head and his hand gently wrapped around her breasts. His knife could slip between her ribs in the space of a heartbeat if he so chose. Instead, though, he toyed with each taut nipple until a low, throaty moan threatened to escape her mouth.