Seventeen
H e only put me down when he found some satisfactory spot on the grounds, away from it all. I couldn’t hear the music from the party, couldn’t hear the shouting, the carousing, but I was distracted from it, anyway.
As he carried me, I couldn’t look away from him. He supported me effortlessly, like I weighed nothing, and when he glanced down at me, there was a fire in his eyes that only burned hotter when he saw how eagerly I gazed upon him.
I hadn’t realized how much I missed him. I grieved all these years, but with him before me once more, the ache of our separation before was unbearable. The want was physical, settling in my chest, my core, seeping into my bones. Mind-numbing.
His brow was strong, his hair only just now mussed, thanks to my wandering fingers. The auburn color hadn’t changed, a red so dark it was nearly the color of wine. Without the gel, it was long enough to fall into his eyes. The time away had made him broader, brawn, no longer a young man at the peak of adulthood, but a man come home from war and whatever other horrible things he alluded to.
He set me down on my feet on plush grass, gingerly, like he thought I might break. He shrugged his jacket off and laid it out before kneeling and pulling me down to him.
I laughed at the ease of it all, at how quickly we fell into each other again.
“I should have found you sooner,” he muttered against my lips, his fingers coming up to cradle my jaw.
I held his face in my own hands, reveling in the feel of his strong cheekbones, his stubble, how real he felt. “Yes, you should have,” I said, making us meet again. He tasted like whiskey, like iron, like smoke. The press of his lips against mine was intoxicating, and our mouths moved against each other, like we’d never forgotten how.
I felt his arousal against my stomach. The heat running through me pooled at my core, my muscles tightening in anticipation.
It had been too long. Why had it taken so long for him to find me?
The taste of him ignited that fire in me I could not quell.
He slipped the dainty straps of my dress off my shoulders, the fabric hardly staying above my breasts, my chest pressed against his. The cool air on my exposed chest sent goosebumps across my flesh, his hands smoothing over my arms, leaving a trail of shivers in his wake.
I pulled his hair so hard I knew it must hurt, but I couldn’t let go. Couldn’t let him leave me, even for a second .
He nipped at my lip, sharp teeth threatening to puncture. His hands roamed down my sides, around my hip, and under my ass, before he suddenly hitched my knees up around his hips. I squealed, gripping onto him harder as we fell backward.
He loomed over me, the soft earth beneath me, a whisper of a breeze dancing between us. He settled between my legs, still clothed, and it was maddening, the press of him against my thighs. I’d never felt so eager for anyone else, not even after I believed him dead. I burned for him the first time we did this, and the fire was relit, spreading through my veins, a want so intense I shook.
He just gazed at me with hooded eyes, like he was soaking in the sight of me, beneath him, sprawled out on the grass, the image of scandal. My skirt was around my hips, my stockings the only barrier between us. My shoes had fallen off at some point in our haste, away in the grass.
“This is a sight I missed,” he mused, untucking his shirt, the clicking of his belt sounding out as he unbuckled. My toes curled.
When he was free, he fell back upon me, his mouth falling straight to my throat. He licked across my collarbone, sucking at my skin, biting at me just hard enough to elicit gasps from me. The sky above me sparkled with stars as he kissed and bit every inch of flesh at my neck, then my ear. I arched underneath him, my fingers clawing at his arms.
I didn’t want him to stop, and we’d hardly started. He could ravish me only with his kisses, with his tongue, and I’d feel like I’d found heaven. “Don’t stop,” I breathed, digging my nails into fists on his sleeves .
His tongue trailed to my breasts, sending electricity through me. My eyes rolled back into my head at the sensation of his mouth on me, his hands roughly pulling my dress down so I was bared to him. He palmed one breast, squeezing roughly, almost to the point of pain. Tears gathered at the corners of my eyes, but they did not fall. And suddenly, he was sucking, pulling my nipple into his mouth, claiming my breasts for his own. I cried out, my hips finding purchase against his, my legs wrapping around him.
He groaned and ground his cock even harder against me.
“I won’t stop,” he said. “Once I have you again, it’s only you. It was only ever you.”
He moved against me so harshly, I knew the frustration building in him was to the point of pain. All these years, I’d been with others, moved on from him. Let other men touch me, tease me. But he’d never moved on from me, a truth I felt so deeply.
I shut my eyes, letting the tears fall, and brought his face up to mine again.
“I won’t let you go again,” he said, with so much urgency, a wild look in his eyes. “You’ve always been mine. You were made for me.”
I nodded, because it felt so true, like it was written in the stars above us. Like we had been denied each other, star-crossed, by something as small as humanity, a force that couldn’t keep us apart. We’d both been alive on this earth, and I didn’t even know it, and now I felt so stupid for not believing in him, for not believing that he’d find a way back to me.
My stockings were suddenly ripped apart, the flimsy fabric hanging on just barely to one of my knees, and he was pressing against me in a friction so delicious I wanted to scream. His soft flesh was hard, steely and long, bigger than I remembered, and he was not even yet inside. My hips moved on their own, drawing him in closer.
His hands harshly pushed my arms into the ground, forcing me in place. “You have to say it,” he demanded. “Say that you are mine.”
The head of his cock brushed against the apex of my thighs, and I sighed. “I’m yours,” I breathed. “I’m yours, I’m yours.” Repeating over and over like a prayer, willing it to be true.
And he pressed into me, a burning stretch forcing my thighs even further apart. He groaned, his face settling into the space against my neck. He took me all at once, sliding in slowly, forcing me to accommodate his size.
“I’ve been waiting for this,” he said against me, bottoming out. It was overwhelming, the stretch so harsh, the intrusion of him inside me pushing against the deepest part within me. He stilled, though I felt him twitch, the head of his cock as deep as it could go.
My thighs burned, my clit throbbing. I couldn’t relax, my muscles squeezing him, even when I felt I was splitting apart. My breaths came shallow, and I knew if he were anyone else, I’d tell him to stop, that I couldn’t do it. That it was too much.
But I wanted that burn, wanted to bleed for him. I wanted him to claim me again.
Tears fell down my face, mingling with my ruined curls. I squeezed my eyes shut until his thumb ran against my cheek.
“Look at me,” he whispered .
When I opened my eyes, he brought his thumb to his lips, licking my tear away, that sharp tooth glinting in the moonlight.
And then he started to move, slowly withdrawing, only enough to cause that drag of pleasure. My thighs clenching, shaking. I cried out as he thrust back into me, forcing his way back in. He brushed against my clit, and my muscles fluttered. My legs around him tightened, pulling him closer to me.
“You’re mine,” he said, retreating, dragging out, the ridge of his cock rubbing against every sensitive part inside of me. He gripped my jaw. Dragging in and out, in and out. “You’ve always been mine. This cunt is mine. These lips are mine.” He forced his thumb through my lips, pressing down on my tongue. Quickening his pace, ever so slightly, his grip on my jaw and mouth like a vise.
“Say it,” he urged.
“I’m yours.” I could hardly speak as he thrust into me, his pace becoming urgent, claiming, stretching me until he touched every part of me. My muscles molded to fit him, struggling to accommodate his ferocity, the pressure so intense I saw stars. He was claiming me wholly, and I felt it down to my bones, to the cells that made me up.
He withdrew suddenly, sitting back on his knees. The midnight air felt cool against my exposed flesh, my core empty. A jagged breath escaped me, shock at the emptiness and the cold air, before his hands were on my hips and he flipped me over. My hands and knees dug into the grass, just the thin barrier of his jacket between me and the earth. His hand smoothed over my ass, my hip, before he lined himself up again.
But he didn’t push into me .
I looked back over my shoulder, and he just knelt, taking me in, grinning cruelly at my impatience. I fisted the grass, pushing myself closer to him. “Please.”
A dark laugh. “That was all I wanted to hear.”
And he sheathed himself inside me again, all in one vicious thrust. The new angle drew a groan from deep within me. He would never leave me, even if we were separated; he was mine, and I was his. He had gotten so deep into me, he’d changed me, changed the makeup of my being. And it had started six years ago, only I’d not realized he’d never left me.
His thrusts became a brutal, steady rhythm. I could hardly hold myself up, every muscle of my body becoming jelly at his ministrations. He gripped my hips, his nails digging into my skin, and in the haze of my lust, I thought I felt the sharp prick of his nails—claws. Evidence of his change. But I didn’t care, I was so lost to the pleasure.
My back arched as my pleasure built, racing toward that peak. I hadn’t realized all the sounds that were coming from me, gasps and pants and cries, that couldn’t be mistaken for anything other than lovemaking. It was driving me mad, the friction of his cock against my entrance, in and out, in and out . He moved quicker, skin slapping against skin.
His fingers tightened, and that crest within me came ever closer. I wanted to collapse.
“Come for me,” he said through his teeth, reaching down to the nerves at the apex of my thighs. He circled my clit roughly, causing me to cry out.
When I glanced back again, his head was thrown back, hair wild. “Come on my cock,” he growled .
Even if I tried to prolong it, it was impossible. A burst of pleasure shot through me, and I pushed my ass into him, urging him on, harder, harder. I must have said the word, because as my muscles clenched, my walls drawing him in, his thrusts became more powerful. I nearly fell forward, arms losing strength, my eyes rolling back as my orgasm rippled through me. My stomach tightened, my thighs clenched, and he just couldn’t get deep enough.
I wanted this to last forever, wanted him inside me all night long. Even if we stayed on the lawn, I wanted him to fuck me, to make up for these lost years, until the sun came up. And then we’d start all over again.
“ Fuck , Helena,” he said, and those nails cut into my skin, holding my hips up even when my arms couldn’t support me anymore.
He stilled, his thrusts jerking into me in short bursts. I sighed as I felt him twitch as he filled me, a warmth gushing into me. I wanted him all the way, wanted whatever came of it, wanted him to coat me so no one else could.
He leaned forward, his chest to my back, without withdrawing. He remained hard, and the mixture of my wetness and his cum brought delicious shivers down my spine. He kissed his way across my shoulders, along my neck, finding that sensitive spot beneath my ear again.
I wanted him forever, now that I had him. But it terrified me, knowing what he was now capable of, knowing what world he dwelled in. As he sucked on my neck, I felt him twitch within me again, and laughed, then sighed when he thrust once, twice, mixing our fluids inside me .
I wanted him to bite me. I was horrified and excited all at once. I wanted his teeth in me, wanted him to claim me in every way he could.
But he only breathed against my skin and placed another kiss there.
“You have to come back to me,” he mumbled against my flesh.
“I haven’t yet left.” My voice was breathy, soft, all the power gone from me.
“No, but you will.”
“Do you not want me to stay?” I asked, turning my face so we were cheek to cheek.
“Of course I do,” he growled, grinding against me once more. I gasped, feeling warmth seep down my thigh. “But your friends are expecting you.” Your family .
Was it too much to ask to want to stay in this dream world forever?
How would I wake up in that house, Mother down the hall, in my bed all alone ? Lucas somewhere, a bachelor he wanted to set me up with on the way. That life felt so separate from the life I lived at the manor, on this lawn.
Adam placed another kiss on my jaw before he separated himself from me. The mixture of our lovemaking coated my thighs, my stockings ruined; my hands and knees ached from keeping myself up. I paused when I noticed the blood at my hips, the little crescent cuts where his fingers had dug into my flesh.
Blood .
The sight of it made my heart skip a beat, but he didn’t seem to notice .
When I turned, I laughed when I saw him, his clothes absolutely ruined, the most unkempt I think I’d ever seen him. We were both still clothed but may as well have been naked—it likely would’ve been better. He glanced down at himself, at his cock coated in our cum, his shirt ripped open, tie and belt discarded off somewhere in the grass. He flashed me a smirk.
Then he crawled forward til we were face to face. “You look positively ravished.”
“I feel ravished,” I breathed, and reached up to kiss him again.
As we dressed—best we could—I couldn’t help but mourn the kids we’d been. But we’d found each other, despite the odds. He seemingly didn’t need to work anymore, certainly not as a printer’s apprentice. If he had so much money now, so much power, was Lucas even a threat?
I wasn’t sure I even wanted to know.
He helped me up, brushing his fingers through my hair to help right my curls. I knew my lipstick was ruined, my eye shadow. He just used his thumb to wipe away the smudges, to set it to rights. And as he led me back toward the revelry, his hand in mine, I knew something had changed.
Yes, we’d changed. Years apart had done that.
But now…
I couldn’t ignore him now. Not when I knew where he was.
Couldn’t deny that I wanted him, that all those feelings were brought right back, like we’d never separated.
We rounded the corner of the house and my sight narrowed on Dixon and Flora, waiting, like they knew. Dixon’s eyes narrowed, glared at us—at the man next to me—and Flora gave me a knowing grin, though she seemed a bit dazzled when Adam stood next to me.
He pulled me to a stop. “I’ll let you go on,” he said, eyeing Dixon warily. The lord’s glare was tangible even at this distance.
“Okay.”
“Promise me,” he said, pushing my hair from my eyes, cradling my face once more, fingers on my jaw, angling my face to him.
He didn’t need to finish the sentence. Promise me you’ll come back. Promise me you’re mine.
I leaned into his touch, breathing in his scent, the whiskey and iron now mixed with a sweet muskiness. And I didn’t want to leave.
“I promise.”