Chapter Twenty
“They’ll be looking for us.” She gasped as he unbuttoned her bodice, revealing her breasts.
“No one will find us here,” he whispered as he caressed her, rolling a hardened bud between his finger and thumb.
Her pitched inhale thrilled him and he captured it with his mouth.
She turned to face him, wrapped her arms around his neck, and rose on her toes to tease the tip of his tongue with hers.
“We can’t be gone long.” She lifted her chin, offering herself to him as he dragged his lips down her throat.
“We won’t be,” he promised. “Would you like me to stop?”
“Don’t you dare,” she breathed, pulling him down for another scorching kiss.
With his hands on her hips, he guided them back until they tumbled to the bed.
He shifted her beneath him and settled between her thighs.
Balanced on his elbows and knees, he kissed her.
Her fingers threaded through his hair, the tips of her fingernails trailed along his scalp, and he ground himself between her hips.
He couldn’t get close enough, touch enough, taste enough of her.
The sound of the festival continued outdoors.
The crowd grew louder as the room warmed with their breath and the heat between their bodies, blazing through him, as smoldering as her mouth on his throat.
Cassandra reached between them, trailing her hand over his clothed erection, the glorious sensation buckled his knees.
“Teach me,” she whispered, her lips ghosting the fine hairs on the shell of his ear.
Sparks of light burst behind his closed eyelids, and it was agony to not strip her bare and bury himself in her.
Not yet, he reminded himself, but in the next breath as her hand began gliding, he promised himself tonight.
Tonight, he would have her naked in his arms, with moonlight and breath as his guide and the desire coursing through him nearly made him come undone.
Cassandra was his.
She would be his, and he had waited for so long.
Her fingers slipped as she fumbled with his buttons. Seth grinned at her enthusiasm and loosened his trousers, allowing them to fall low on his hips. Her hand stroked over the firm length of him, and dreams didn’t compare to the raw sensuality of her slow exploration.
“Like this?” she asked.
“Like this.” He took her hand in his and showed her how he liked to be touched, and her silk-soft skin slid over him so sweetly.
He rustled under her skirts, trailing up her stockings to the curve of her knee, and she widened her hips, trusting him with her pleasure.
Never one to deny her, his finger slid into her core, wet and ready for him, and she surrendered herself to his touch with a moan.
Perspiration anchored wisps of her hair to her brow.
Wine-stained, kiss-swollen lips parted, cheeks flushed, chest heaving.
Beautiful.
His.
“I want more of you.” Seth could have begged her, “Let me come to your bed tonight.”
He took the tip of her breast in his mouth, caressing her with his tongue as his finger pressed in deeper.
“Yes.” She gasped. “Oh, Seth… please—”
He kissed her, loving the taste of his name on her tongue.
He touched her in the ways he knew would get her close.
When the feeling became too much, she lifted her hands to grip tightly into his shirt as pleasure racked through her and he swallowed each and every sound she made as he if were a man starved.
Responsive. Sensitive. His. A rush of power came with having her beneath him, wanting him, needing him.
No other hands would touch her this way.
No other name gasped in pleasure. Possessive pride filled him with a singular thought.
“You’re mine.”
At the sound of his voice, she tightened and cried out as she climaxed. He gave her mere seconds of respite before his fingertip circled her once more. “Again.”
“There’s no time,” she said, even as she arched into him. “We should go.”
“How selfish, Cassandra,” he said, dragging her name out. “Leaving me wanting twice.” Her breath hitched, and yes, she liked it when he talked. He deepened his voice and growled against her throat, “Wouldn’t you like to finish our lesson? Don’t you want to please me?”
“Yes, yes,” she moaned, and it became his new favorite word. “Only, I don’t see how—ah—this will help.”
“When I touch you like this, I wonder how it will feel to be inside of you… wonder how desperate I can make you.” Deliberately, he pressed two fingers into her body, drowning in the exquisite torture of restraint.
He teased her to the precipice of another orgasm and bent to kiss her.
Over her lips, he whispered, “… isn’t that helpful? ”
He waited for her breath to hitch… her hips to lift.
And he removed his hand.
“Seth!” she whined and reached for him, but he sat back on his haunches and smirked.
“Weren’t you saying we should be on our way?” He laughed. In proper lighting, he might have seen the pinch at the bridge of her nose and the purse to her lips as a warning before she grabbed his shirt and tugged him down, her mouth hot on his.
“Stop teasing me and tell me what to do,” she ordered, and wrapped her hand around him. It was the most erotic thing Seth had ever experienced.
So far.
“Move with me.” He groaned as she gripped him.
He resumed his attentions on her, setting a pace for them.
In and out. She mimicked him. Up and down.
“Like that, love, yes, just like that.” Eyes closed tight, he rolled his hips and pressed deeper inside of her, his thumb grazing her clitoris, once, twice, and her pleasure heightened once more, and all too soon, her second orgasm crashed through her.
Overcome, her hand left him, and he took over.
Once, twice, and he twisted away from her, releasing on the bedclothes with a choked groan.
Sated, knees weak, he sat up. As the afterglow set in, Cassandra leaned her head on his shoulder and laced their fingers together, as reluctant to part as he was.
With every fiber of his being, he fought the impulse to pull her into his arms, to lie back down and hold her until morning.
Instead, he waited for her to compose herself while he fixed their clothing.
“I wish I had a mirror,” she said, resetting her pins as he searched for her bonnet.
Seth sighed as time escaped them, not wishing to depart from this haven to a world where he couldn’t touch her.
He reminded himself that this was a warm-up, a prelude to what would come.
He would have plenty of opportunity to touch her when she was his wife.
The moment they won the contest, he would ask Cooper for Cassandra’s hand.
And by nightfall tomorrow, he would propose to her.
As Seth placed the bonnet on Cassandra’s head and tied the string, she said, “We should go straight to the carriage. That’s where Matthew and I agreed to meet if we were separated. With any luck, we should make it there before he does.”
“Eager to have me alone again?” he purred.
She shot him a side glance, but darted her eyes away with a blush. “Don’t you want to continue our lessons?”
Seth swallowed through a dry throat. His mind emptied as his blood shifted and he pulled Cassandra to him one last time and kissed her, lingering on her lips. She broke from him first and said, “If you keep doing that, we’ll never stop.”
He released her, grinned and opened the door. “Who is teasing now?”
She stepped into the alley with a smile as he closed the door, twisted the key in the lock, and placed it in his coat pocket. He would come back later and… fix things up. He turned to offer Cassandra his arm, but stopped at her wide eyes, frozen to the spot, her voice pitched, drawn out. “Seth…”
Instinctively, Seth pivoted, guiding Cassandra behind him, shielding her in the thin space between his back and the door frame. Four men emerged from the shadows, forming a semi-circle that shortened like a noose around them with every slow step, closing in, all avenues of escape blocked.
And a locked door at their back.
One man moved closer than the others, standing directly before Seth with an open, drunken grin, his stubble spread unevenly across his face. Behind him, a younger man shifted his eyes to the street where festival attendees passed by, cheering, laughing, and stumbling.
“You’m one o’ them finalists, in’t you?” the man with the patchwork face asked, repositioning his coat to show the metallic glint of a blade.
Cassandra remained silent behind him, composed and alert, but her shallow breathing betrayed her fear, unlocking something primal within him.
Pulse quickening. Skin prickling. The hairs on his arms and legs rose.
Lingering effects of ale and satisfaction disappeared.
Thoughts organized themselves with lethal clarity. Emotions. Gone. Sympathy?
None.
“No need for a fuss. Right, boys?” he slurred. The others murmured their assent. Seth kept his eyes trained on their leader, leering at Cassandra. “Fine lass you ‘ave. Loud. Why not giv’ us a turn?”
“Touch her and I’ll kill you,” Seth promised.
The look-out’s eyes widened at his voice.
“Johnny—that man! That’s—“
“Shut up! I don’t give a damn ‘oo ‘e is!” Johnny snapped, glaring at Seth. Not appreciating the challenge he saw, he drew the knife and pointed it at them. “The lass, mi’lord, and yer pocket book while yer at it.”
“I’m serious Johnny, we should go—”
“Then go!” Johnny roared, turning his back to Seth.
Seth lunged, grabbed the wrist holding the knife, and twisted.
A shrill howl escaped the man as Seth bent his arm backward.
The knife fell from his hand, clattering to the cobblestone.
The look-out ran away as the other two rushed to their leader’s defense.
Cassandra cried out as one man grabbed for her.
And everything became simple.
Swinging forward, Seth’s jab connected with the man’s nose. A crunch as cartilage and bone gave way. Blood gushed into the man’s open mouth and he fell to the ground with a choked, gurgling scream.
An elbow to his gut had Seth breathing through his teeth, and the third man dove for the knife. Seth grabbed the back of the man’s coat and shoved him to the cobblestone, landing a swift kick to his stomach. The man retched, filling the alley with the pungent odor of alcohol and bile.
Seth grunted as a fist connected to his jaw.
He swiftly split the taunting curl of Johnny’s lip with one punch.
And another. And another. Hot blood coat his cracked knuckles.
Blackness crept into his vision as he inched further and further away from self-control.
Johnny freed himself and scrambled on hands and knees, grabbing for the knife, but Seth pressed his boot into his wrist. Seth yanked at his collar and hauled the man to his feet, fist readied once more.
A voice tugged at him, distracting him, feminine, soothing as a sea breeze.
“Seth. Stop.”
But through the whoosh of blood in his ears, and his heartbeat hammering in his chest, he couldn’t stop. A fire raged within. A shadow against the wall brought his attention to a hand reaching for him. “Seth.”
Another voice in the distance.
“Cassandra!”
A feather-light touch on his shoulder. He dropped Johnny, pivoting on his heel to the new threat. His palm connected with something soft. Lavender bloomed around him, mixing with the scent of blood, turning his stomach. A gentle lulling broke through his darkness.
“Seth.”
Nauseous vertigo ran through him as his eyes opened, meeting Cassandra’s concerned eyes. His hand held her wrist aloft, tight in his grasp. Seth stared at it, unblinking. Unafraid, her free hand hovered inches away from his chest.
“Cassandra! Don’t touch him!”
“You can stop now,” Cassandra whispered. “I’m safe.”
She closed the distance between them, placing her hand flush over his heart.
The loving care radiating from her steadied the rapid-beating underneath, melting away the anger, restoring his lucidity.
She kept her gaze locked onto his, steady until someone wrenched her away, her warm amber eyes replaced by a colder, narrowing, snarling pair.
“Stay back, Cassandra!” Cooper commanded. He lifted his fists, squared his shoulders, and stood in front of Cassandra.
“He wasn’t going to hurt me, brother!”
“You do not know that!” he snapped. Not taking his eyes off of Seth, he asked, “Are you in control of your senses?!”
“Yes,” Seth said through gritted teeth. Pain lanced through him and he staggered back against the wall, knees and hands shaking as weakness settled into his muscles. A dull throbbing emanated from his chin and abdomen, matching the tempo of the ringing in his ears.
Cooper glanced around, taking inventory of the men on the ground, curled in on themselves, grunting in pain, laying in an amassing pool of their own bodily fluids.
“What the devil happened here?”
Mr. Sanderson jogged forward as Lady Jasmine launched herself to wrap her arms around Cassandra’s shaking form, but Cassandra twisted from her grasp.
“They tried to—” Cassandra hiccuped, struggling for words. “They wanted—” She took a deep breath through a trembling lip and set her shoulders. “Mr. Reeves protected me.”
“We were attacked,” Seth wheezed, and kicked the knife to Cooper’s feet.
Eyes widening, a horrified, pained noise escaped him, but there was no time to process or communicate. A curious crowd formed around the alley with a frantic buzzing of multiple people speaking all at once. A woman screamed and a stifling cloud of panic strangled the air.
Cooper cursed.
“Mr. Sanderson! Get my sister and Lady Jasmine to the carriage. I’m right behind you.” He turned back to Seth. “We need to leave, now!”
Lady Jasmine tugged Cassandra forward. “Cassandra, let’s go.”
“No. I won’t leave—”
“Now, Cassandra!” Cooper bellowed. “Come on, Reeves! Before—”
Clap. Clap. Clap.
Silence descended, and the crowd parted to reveal a man dressed in full white garb, platinum hair shining blue-silver under the yellow lantern-light.
Long gloved fingers fell heavy against his palm.
“Follow the scent of blood and the sound of screams and look no further for Captain Reeves,” Duke Kendall sang, grinning like a cat with a mouse under its paw.
“What a spectacle! You cannot pay to see a show like that in the city, can you, Mr. Edgars?”
Seth paled as Mr. Edgars moved forward. He looked at their rag-tag group and the scene with disgust before his eyes settled on Seth, and then Cooper.
“You’re disqualified.”