Three Nights of Sin (12 page)

“I sewed for a seamstress near the Strand. And did some knitting and assembly at shops nearby.”

“Industrious of you.”

She gave him a look that said how much she appreciated being called a battle-axe once again. She picked up the drying towel and his cup from the rack—the last item inside. “You didn’t answer my question. Where are we going tonight?”

“Nowhere.”

Disappointment rushed through her. “Oh.”

“Are you disappointed because we won’t be furthering your brother’s case or because you won’t get to kiss me?”

She nearly dropped the cup. She put it back in the cupboard. “Because we won’t be furthering my brother’s case. Don’t be silly.”

“You realize you can kiss me anytime.”

Her heart picked up speed. “Don’t be silly.”

He leaned against the high table. “Don’t be coy.”

“Why would you even want me to kiss you?”

“You don’t find kissing pleasurable just in and of itself?”

“Yes. No!” She was like a child’s string, tied in knots and being pulled willy-nilly.

“You have me confused. Which is it?”

“Kissing is fine. Not too wet or slimy.”

“Mmmm. Sometimes wet is excellent. Slimy, though, I’ll give you that. I’m happy that our kisses haven’t been too slimy for you.”

She tried to ignore his taunting. “But they are only for show. For getting the information we need. For helping Kenny.”

“I see. So you are only interested in kissing to help Kenny? Is that why you are so keen to go out? Because you can only kiss me if it’s in the line of furthering the case?”

“Yes. No! I just think we need more information.”

“We’ve been to the White Stag three nights this week. They are going to start thinking us regulars. And Dresden is no doubt well aware of our presence. I’m sure he has more than one informant in the pub.”

“Then we should go elsewhere.”

“We’ve been to every pub in the general vicinity of the murders. We’ve traipsed all over Middlesex. Our clues are somewhere else for the moment. Which for
some reason—” He tapped her chin. “—reminds me of a conversation we had earlier today about beginning new avenues in the morning. Funny that you seem not to recall it.”

She stubbornly refused to recall a thing. “We have to have missed something.”

“Yes, you’ve missed that the only reason you want to go traipsing around tonight is so you can kiss me.”

She lifted her chin. “I do not want to kiss you.”

“Fine. Shall we leave?”

She was taken aback for a second. “Leave? Where are we going?”

“You just said we must have missed something. That we need to revisit our haunts. Let’s do that.”

“Y-Yes.” She smoothed her hair. He was wrong about all those things. She didn’t want to kiss him.

“I have something to show you before we leave, though.”

His mouth met hers before she knew what was happening. A gentle pull, a soft caress. She was surprised for a second.
She didn’t want to kiss him.

She melted into his body and called herself ten kinds of fool.

This was a new type of kiss. Exploring and questioning. It wasn’t instructional, or claiming, or for show. It asked a question. She wasn’t sure of the response. So she returned the kiss in the same way. Exploring and questioning. What did he want from her? What type of game was he playing? And did she care? Or was she so caught up in playing it too that she wasn’t thinking of the future?

Her future was muddled and dark. Like the sky before a storm. She wasn’t sure what it would look like come the metaphorical morning. Or if she would still be standing. But this was her chance to taste and explore. To break free from her cage. To be in control of her own destiny, even if for a small amount of time.

His lips ran down her chin. Down her throat. He’d discovered a weak spot at her pulse and had been exploiting it all week. His mouth captured the spot and she arched against him, the air escaping her lungs. He pressed her against the table and scooted her up so she was sitting on the edge. Both hands reached into her hair and he drew her forth to kiss her again. His legs nudged between hers and he brushed against the spot where the heat always traveled.

His hands moved down her arms and wrapped around her knees, tugging her closer and wrapping her legs around his waist. It brought them flush together and inflamed the lovely aching.

“Do you still wish to leave, Marietta?”

He rocked against her and pleasure jolted up her spine.

“No,” she moaned as his lips clamped the spot on her neck.

“You have this lovely dress on, though.” His breath whispered across her neck. “We could travel to some pub and I could devour you in front of the masses. It could be part of the disguise. You wouldn’t have to choose a thing. You wouldn’t have to say that you want this.”

His hand moved up her thigh.

“Wouldn’t have to be in control.”

His fingers moved over her hip and waist and under her arm.

“You could pretend that this is all happening because you are unsure of what to do. That you are martyred for the cause.”

His thumb pressed against her breast and made a deep circle on her nipple. The heat rushed through her body, spreading.

“But I would know that you really wanted this. That you were more than happy to see what lay beneath my shirt. Farther below. To feel your back pressed against this table. For me to bend your knees and bury myself in your heat.”

He didn’t allow her to speak, taking her mouth in another kiss, this one drugging and dominant. His words caused pictures to appear in her head. Things she’d thought of continuously this past week.

“I think you would like being taken, Marietta. And I would more than enjoy taking you.”

She wasn’t sure
being taken
sounded pleasant. But then again most anything Gabriel did to her ended up being pleasant, even if it was preceded by taunting words or challenging eyes.

“Would you like being made love to on a table? Perhaps not the first time. But after we get that pesky little problem out of the way, shall we try it here?”

Pesky little problem
. As if her virginity, so highly prized in her world, was little more than an annoyance. Then again, her lack of a virginal state wasn’t likely to be an issue these days.

He was dangerous and arrogant, but he was also
a protector. Oh, he would undoubtedly leave her at the end of an affair and send her on her way, but intuitively she didn’t think he would hurt her. As long as she didn’t expect anything more from him. Or heaven forbid fall in love with him.

“Should I take your silence as assent?” He kissed her lips, lingering on her lower one and pulling it between his before releasing it with a pop. “I won’t, you know. You’ll have to vocalize your desire. Just once, and I’ll do the rest.”

Her head dipped back as he kissed along her neck. Devilish kisses, seductive words.

He leaned back and met her eyes, his dark and beguiling. “You want to learn the art. I can see it in your eyes. Every time I kiss you, I can see it burning in your gaze. You hide all that passion behind the prickers you wear so proudly. It makes it all the more of a challenge to uncover the soft, velvet center.”

He touched her breast again, fingers pulling and lifting to the peak. Her head dipped farther as the muscles in her neck gave way.

“And I will teach you all you wish to know.”

“Do you do this for everyone?” she whispered, eyes hazed as she tried to focus.

She felt him stiffen, but he immediately resumed his ministrations. “No. You aren’t the only one who wears your prickers proudly.”

“Why me?” She pulled her neck upward. She had looked in a mirror. She wasn’t blind, and neither was he.

“Because I want to,” he whispered against her exposed throat, fingers lazily circling. “Tell me
yes, and I will continue. Tell me no, and I will withdraw.”

It was true. All of what he said. She was curious. So very, very curious. She wanted to learn everything. Wanted the power he had over her for her own. Never before had she felt this way about a man, and such a man as this…one who seemed to know her body better than she did…

“What is your pleasure, Marietta?”

“Yes.” The choice was very simple in the end.

His eyes were fierce and triumphant.

He led her to his room and laid her on the coverlet of the bed. Her skin was on fire but her brain was frozen and panicky. “Remember what I said about kissing? About how to respond and feel the response given back? Use that the same way.”

He kissed her gently, his fingers working at the fastenings on her dress, the latches of her stays. She kissed him back, pushing her nervousness into her response, trying to overcome her fear by kissing him as intensely as he kissed her. The feedback became stronger as her fierce kisses turned into more demanding ones from him.

He pulled away slowly, softly kissing her lips. Somehow he’d managed to get her untied, unlatched, and freed. Only her chemise remained. He tugged her upright and shimmied the material up and over her head. She immediately crossed her arms to hide her nakedness.

Here was a perfect specimen of male beauty sitting in front of her, while she, so bony and gangly, was exposed before him.

He raised a brow at her action and tugged one arm down. Her arm immediately rose again. She looked down at herself and grabbed for her chemise.

“What are you doing, Marietta?”

“I—I’ve changed my mind.”

He stopped her from putting the garment back on. “Because you are truly having second thoughts, or because you dislike your body?”

Her chin lifted. “What difference does it make?”

“A great deal of difference.” He lowered her arm and tugged the garment from her. “You are skin and bones, it’s true. Nothing that a few more weeks of regular food won’t cure. But that doesn’t matter. You could stay this skinny or be three times your weight and what would really matter was the spark. How you respond. The passion you allow to be unleashed.”

He stroked her arm and she shivered.

“The physical shell is nothing without what is inside. I could be with what the masses consider the most beautiful woman, and if I wanted to pretend there was something deeper there, I could. I could delude myself as to the connection between. But why would I settle for a substitute if I could feel a real spark? And you have one in you, Marietta. I can taste it. It’s not what you look like, Marietta, it’s what you choose to show.”

His fingers combed through the hair at her nape, pulling her head back.

“Show me that spark. Feel it and return it. That’s what matters.”

The heat that had cooled pumped again. “And if it is disappointing?”

“Then we will be disappointing together. Would you be happier to know that you are not the only one with uncertainties?” He nipped her ear and laid her back out. “Know then that I’m scared witless.”

Somehow she couldn’t believe him as he took her mouth against his own, as his hands moved down her body and soothed the tremors.

“I will have you, Marietta. I’ve known it since we first kissed. Since you first released that passion. I’ll coax every drop out of you, if I have to.”

His words, his hands—she was the snake and he the charmer. “Good.” She released it on a moan as something hard pressed against her, right where she needed it most. He rocked against her and she rocked back, wanting the pressure, the heat. Her body was restless, agitated, needing something she couldn’t name.

“That’s right. Don’t hold back any of your responses.” His voice was soft and deep. “There’s no one here. Just the two of us. And I want you wet and burning all over these sheets.”

She didn’t understand, but her body seemed to. It kept trying to press closer to his, and the heat was turning damp. He had his shirt undone and tossed to the side. A well-formed chest, a sprinkling of hair and lean muscles, crouched over her.

“Show me what you feel, Marietta.”

Her head tipped back and her mouth opened in a silent scream as he tugged her nipple into his mouth and gave a strong suck. Licking and sucking over and over. The heat became uncomfortable, the dampness grew.

He moved to her other breast and she arched into him, trying to make full contact again, as he’d moved up to change position. Her nipple appeared with a pop and he smiled dangerously at her. Green eyes rakish and daring. Hair mussed and charming.

He stood and undid his trousers. A perfectly formed Greek statue, looking at her with a hungry stare. She knew without a doubt that she had never felt this powerful before.

He pulled back the covers and she scooted underneath. Curiosity, fear, and power coursed through her. Here was what all the ladies tittered or dithered about. He scooted in next to her. “Have you ever touched yourself, Marietta?”

His fingers caressed her stomach and ran farther south.

“Here.” His fingers stroked over the hair between her legs, one touching the skin beneath. She jumped. Shifted. The heat was calling her there.

His fingers parted her and lightly teased the top. She froze. The feelings were pleasurable, but there was something altogether odd and intrusive.

He turned her toward him, so they were lying on their sides, facing each other. “Watch what I’m doing. I’m getting you ready. Preparing you so that everything feels good, nothing feels bad.” One finger dipped and caressed just inside the edge. “To make us slide together.”

She watched the top part of his finger disappear. Her breath caught as it moved
inside
of her an inch. He pressed closer to her. “Music to my ears. You don’t know how much I wish that finger was a different part of my body right now.”

She looked between their bodies at the portion of him that was much larger than a finger. She hesitantly reached out to touch him. Silky, but hard. His finger curled inside her and something rocketed through her. She gripped him tightly.

He laughed, somewhat less steadily. “The feedback between us. Exactly. Keep exploring, Marietta. Don’t hesitate to touch whatever fascinates you.”

She stroked him, watched as he strained to her hand. He touched her fingers and placed them on top of his. His finger dipped inside of her—more than an inch. Her eyes closed and he kissed her, quick and hard.