Love and Other Wicked Games (A Wicked Game Novel) (29 page)

For most of the trip, Ellie rested her head against Cal’s chest and he ran his hand along her hair. There was a lasting glow about them and the entire night. It felt like a dream, but there was also something else that was not so dream-like. That tension and rigidness she’d felt earlier was seeping back in now. Something had shifted inside of Cal, and a nagging feeling in her gut said that she could no longer ignore her questions. If she did, it told her, she might never have a chance to find out the truth. The feeling terrified her.

She shifted to look up at him. She didn’t know what to say or even how to say it. But before she had a chance to say anything, he looked down to her and took her face tightly between his hands, molding them to the line of her jaw. He pressed his forehead against hers and their noses touched. Soft spicy breath ran over her skin as he moved his left hand, slowly making circles on her cheek. Her eyes fluttered and she looked at him, but he kept his eyes closed in a tight slit. She willed them to open.
Please. Please, God. Let me see.

He pressed his trembling lips to her forehead and against each cheek and her nose. Then he rested his head against hers once more eliciting a sigh that shook them both. “Oh, Ellie,” he whispered, running his right hand over her hair and cupping the back of her head. “
My Ellie…
”

His fingers gripped at her jawline and the base of her head, his lashes curling upwards tickling her cheeks. She shivered against the light, brushing touch and for one terrifying instant she was afraid to look. She was afraid of what she would find inside of those eyes and so she fought against him. Maybe if she refused to accept what he was feeling then this moment would pass by forever. But she knew that was a lie. She knew she must look. And so she did.

Pain shot through her and she was overwhelmed by the powerful heaviness of everything he was feeling. With a loud gulp she willed herself to say something, anything, but nothing would come out. She wanted to fight for them—she had to!—but even if she could find the words she wouldn’t be able to say them. The ache was paralyzing and her throat was so tight with anguish that all she could do was sob once, loudly. This was it. He was going to tell her goodbye and there would be nothing she could do to stop it. She closed her teary eyes, bracing herself for the onslaught. But when it finally came, it was not at all what she had expected. And she could tell it was not at all what he had planned.

His mouth covered hers, hungrily drawing the breath from her lungs. She stiffened against him with shock before falling limp in his arms and leaving her body to his control. He turned her head to the side for a better angle and forced her lips into submission. But he didn’t need to do that. She opened up willingly, begging him to come inside. And he did. He pierced her, body and soul. She shook with an uncontrollable gasp as he bit and sucked and licked until she wanted to scream out in joy… or sadness. Or both.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her breasts against the broad expanse of his chest. With one quick turn he threw her flat against the seat of the swaying carriage and suspended himself just above her body. Waiting. He took several deep breaths as he looked at her, into her. His breath and his eyes were heavy and telling.

A powerful urge came over her as she stared into those weighty, green eyes. She wanted him to free her, to take away the constraints of her clothing as he’d done before on the balcony. And then she wanted him to free her from something else. She wanted to free him too, though she didn’t know what from. But he did. He always knew what she needed even when she did not, and in this moment he proved it once more.

He lowered his head and pressed his clean-shaven cheek against the top of her bosom. The rough hairs made her shiver and the touch of skin against skin made her sigh. He nuzzled against her and then he took her into his warm mouth, suckling the line of her collarbone. The soft tip of his tongue followed suit brushing against the prominent arch and leaving a cool trail along her electrified skin. He didn’t stop there. He felt he couldn’t. He ravenously continued upwards tasting her neck and her chin in wide circles until at last their mouths were as one. But before she could relish in the sensations he was giving her, he continued along his journey, once more to her jaw and then to her ear where white waves of pleasure exploded each place they connected.

She arched her back with an involuntarily breath, and gently nibbled at the soft flesh of his neck where her mouth came to rest. His body responded and he kissed her with a passion the likes of which she had never felt before. The likes of which she had never imagined possible. All of their kisses had been passionate in their own way—desire, joy, want—but this kiss sprang to life at a different level and from a different consciousness entirely. This was need.

The way his hands ran over her body covering every inch he could reach. The way he pressed his mouth against hers harder and hungrier. The depth at which his tongue sought entry and how it never seemed to be enough. And the open-eyed gaze that penetrated straight through her… He didn’t want to let her go. He needed her, there was absolutely no mistaking that. She could feel it in the waves of energy flowing between them, and she could see it etched inside his emerald eyes. But he was preparing for something else.

He was taking every detail about her, about this moment and about them, and preserving it all in a safe place inside of him. A place where the memories would never be forgotten. Where
they
would never be forgotten. Ever. But why must he do that if he didn’t want her to go in the first place? Why did this still feel as if he was preparing for goodbye?

“Cal?” she tried to ask, but he silenced her with his mouth, stealing away the question and momentarily, her fear.

Then he lowered himself onto her and she could feel all of his sensitive areas bulging with desire. When she shook, his left hand came up to circle against her breast. Her nipple rose up through the fabric and he put his mouth over top of it, biting at the stiff bud and forcing it to become more erect. She felt her breasts pulsate and ache with a fiery tingle as she cradled the back of his head. Then, when it seemed as if neither of them could stand it anymore he finally freed her from her dress with one gentle tug.

“No corset?” His eyes widened.

She shook her head. “I felt like doing something mad.”

His eyes glistened and almost immediately his mouth came back down on her nipple but it didn’t stay there. Not on that one anyway. He went quickly from left to right with a soft pucker and pop of his lips. She inhaled sharply catching the scent of fresh soap on his skin and hair. It was driving her mad with delight. Her normal senses dulled, but everything else about her was heightened. She could feel every nerve and every cell in her body light up with a powerful pulse that went out in waves in every direction until she could even hear the beat of pleasure pound in her ears. She was enveloped, barely aware of anything but the line of flames his hands were trailing down her body with a vigorous touch.

He grabbed at her skirts and pulled them upwards as his mouth continued to play at her breasts with an agonizing desire. Before long she could feel the weight of the layers lifted from her and his hand working at the ties of her drawers. And then she felt the chill of the air all over her warm, wet skin. She squirmed against him with anticipation and uncertainty, her motions flowing with the movement of the carriage. She didn’t know what to expect next, but she wanted it to happen whatever it might be. And she needed it like she had never needed anything before in her life. It was necessary to her survival.

“More,” she found herself breathing while the tips of his fingers ran along the inside of her thigh.

He detached himself from her breast and she drew in her breath, suddenly aware of the sting his mouth was leaving behind. It hurt but not in the way that pain usually did. It left her reeling and feeling remarkably alive. A warm tingly sensation overtook her and spread like wildfire. And he just looked at her like she was the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen in his life.

“More,” she said again with force.

She saw him smirk, a devilishly wicked smile, as he moved his hand closer to the slickness between her legs. Shifting her body, she tried to force him to touch her in the places she wanted him to touch. But he held out and skirted the edges, teasing out soft waves of desire. She circled her hips slowly and with each turn she rubbed her leg against him in the place where his own desire was growing. Just knowing how much he wanted her was enticing, and made her yearn for him more powerfully.

“More,” she said for a third time, this a pulsing breath pushed through clenched teeth.

Cradling her lower back in the crook of his right arm, he positioned her hips this way and that until he found a satisfactory position. And finally, just when she thought she might burst, he complied with her request. His hand moved inward across her thigh to the place where she so desperately wanted him to touch. He parted the slick divide with his fingers, sliding them upward until he found the swollen sensitive area at the center of her desire. Molten heat accumulated where he touched her. His fingers were a flint sparking against her body.

And with this she made a shocking and ecstatic revelation. The burgeoning feeling inside of her, the feeling he was now feeding with his hands, was only the beginning. There was still so much left to feel. She had never wanted to feel anything more than she wanted to feel this, more than she wanted to feel him. She arched again with a whimper. Pleasure consumed her as he continued to torment and tease her aroused flesh, producing a terrifyingly wonderful tightness of muscles that shook out her fears. And her shame.

“More. More. Yes, there. More,” she cried out, with gratified gasps and moans.

With each sound, his mouth ravaged her, licking and sliding along her curves and contours as he continued his pursuit of her body. She could feel his heart pounding against her as his own breath became more ragged. His thumb circled on that sensitive area now as two strong fingers glided down along the strait. He parted her once more and then carefully, pushed the fingers inside. A tiny mewing whimper escaped her lips and he took it in, his lips devouring her cries.

No, more. Please. Yes. Please. So close. So close.

She sucked in her breath… and everything was brought to an abrupt halt. The carriage lurched to a stop and they jerked from side to side. Cal withdrew his hand and she felt her muscles clench tightly at the sudden absence of him inside of her. He lifted himself up with one arm and pushed aside the small curtain of the carriage window. His face tightened.

“We’re here.”

Ellie looked up to him not yet ready to accept that they were returning to the real world. His eyes swept over her and softened in an excruciatingly painful way. And in that moment it was back again. That pain and tension, as well as that energy that said he wanted to absorb everything he could and never let go. His hand shakily caressed her face, his thumb rubbing against her cheek. Both of her hands went to his and held on tightly. Desperately. For dear life.

Please. Please don’t leave,
she begged with her eyes when the words would not come.

She felt tears well up but he didn’t say anything. He just jerked his face away from her gaze not wanting her to see. He wasn’t quick enough, though. She saw his eyes well up too, rain on a meadow. Hiding it, he sat complete upright and tried to help her up as well, but his touch weakened her with both sadness and joy. She was only able to prop herself up on her elbows as she struggled to right her dress.

Cal cleared his throat. “There’s something that I—I have something that I must—” but the words were catching. He cleared his throat once more and tried again but this time one small, and obviously unintentional sob was all that came out. After a moment he shook his head. “I can’t—this isn’t the right ti—not right—” He reached for her and patted his open hand against her palm. They sat, silently, for several moments.

“Another time then, eh?” he said at last. Now his voice sounded calm and collected but she could tell he didn’t actually feel that way. He had nothing left to give. He was as emotionally drained as she was, depleted of all energy except the most basic bits needed to stay alive and breathe. And even that was a great difficulty.

He began to move. She tried to grab onto his hand but he pulled away and opened the door of the carriage, stepping outside.

“Please, take her back home,” she heard his voice say.

“And you, sir?” the carriage driver asked.

“I’ll be staying here tonight. Thank you.”

Ellie started to panic. He was just going to leave it like this. Leave them like this. Leave
her
like this… alone, in a carriage, and never speak to her again. She righted herself and scrambled for the door but it was too late. He shut it in front of her and the carriage reeled ahead once more.

Ellie’s body went limp and numb.

When the carriage finally came to a stop again outside of the dress shop, the sun was just making its appearance above the horizon. She didn’t remember getting out of the carriage or going upstairs or entering her room, but she knew she must have because the next thing she remembered was collapsing down on her bed and shutting her eyes.

She didn’t know how long she slept but it felt like an eternity. And it also felt like the blink of an eye. But in the end, it was enough.

When she finally allowed herself to open her eyes again she saw that she had not been alone. Near her beside there were plates with small bits of barely eaten food and nearly full glasses of water. Someone had been caring for her while she regained her strength. She sat up swiftly, with a deep breath, and saw her mother sitting on a chair near the bed.

“Ellie. Sweet girl. You’ve been ill,” her mother said, her voice carved with concern.

“No. No.” Ellie shook her head. “I’m sorry I worried you but I’m not ill.”

“There’s more than one kind of illness, dear. And they aren’t all ailments of the body.”