Chapter Twenty-Eight
A First Time for Everything
The Catacombs
I do not know how long I’ve been sitting with these feelings.
I do not know how much precious time has passed without my having made any progress.
I must move deeper through these caverns.
I must find Maddy. The grief and pain of a lifetime’s worth of loss continue to choke me, but I don’t have time for sadness.
Leave pity for another day. Now, I must press on.
I must see where this road leads. I only hope it leads me to her.
I wish that strange gambler would return with more guidance. I wish someone had given me a map. Something.
Fyre continues to dance in front of me, but does not speak.
I stare, bleary-eyed, in its general direction.
The moisture in my eyes, combined with the illumination from the cave’s only light, makes it near impossible for me to see.
But out of the corner of my eye, I note something that looks extremely out of place.
Deep underground, surrounded by nothing but grey stones and damp walls, I see a speck of bright white on the ground.
As I approach, I see that the white spot is actually a cloth.
I walk over and pick the handkerchief up.
How did it end up here? There is no way it simply found itself inside this cave.
I don’t know the answer to that, and I decide I don’t really need to know. Instead of questioning this small stroke of luck, I grab the cloth and dab at my eyes. The moisture subsides, and my vision clears. I use it to wipe the sweat from my forehead and brow as well.
When I finish, I stare ahead. The way before me looks clear again for the first time in a long time. Confidently, I take a step forward, and then my eyes wander to the used handkerchief in my hand. I notice how black and grey and smudged the item is now.
I dirty everything I touch, I think to myself.
Then I realize that is not the first time I’ve had that exact thought. It’s not the first time I’ve dirtied a pristine linen before. I destroyed Madeleine’s handkerchief that night in my shop. I ruined her fabric before we ruined each other, in the most deliciously depraved way.
England, 1868
I waste no time removing the rest of her garments before she sits up and does the same with my shirt. Her lips find mine, wild and hungry. Groaning, I grip a fistful of her golden locks, tugging on them gently, just to test her. She breaks the kiss on a gasp as her wide eyes stare at me in shock.
“Harder,” she pants, and, fuck, I’m lost to her.
I grip her hair more roughly and yank her head back, exposing her soft neck. I press my lips on the front, loving the feel of her throat bob as she swallows. Dragging my teeth down, I have to force back a growl as she releases a whimper that could easily turn a man into a monster.
“T-Thomas.”
Never have I loved the sound of my name, but right now, it’s all I want to hear.
“Fuck!” I hiss as I feel her unsteady hand boldly grip my cock.
My eyes meet her shocked ones, as if she can’t believe she’s touching me either.
“Sor—”
“Quiet.” I kiss her roughly, not wanting to hear an apology, regret, or anything that could possibly end this night early. “Lie back,” I breathe between kisses.
She obeys, and I spread her creamy thighs once more, smirking at the redness from my beard plaguing her sweet skin. Gripping her hips, I slide her down to the end of the table before pressing myself at her entrance.
“Look at me,” I say as she begins to drift away. “You are so beautiful,” I marvel, causing her to blush slightly.
She gives me a small nod, and I seize the moment, pressing myself inside her. The awkwardness of the first time is behind us now and my length fills her in one smooth stroke.
“Ah!” she cries at the sensation as her arms wrap around my shoulders. Where before that sound contained a hint of discomfort, now her cry is nothing but a song of pure pleasure.
“That’s a good girl. Let this whole bloody city hear you. Come on. You can be louder.” I smirk as I thrust deeper.
She arches her back, releasing a cry that I swear makes my cock harder. Her nails dig into my shoulders, and I moan as she drags them down my back, and I know I’ll be feeling those delicious marks for days.
“My little dove’s got talons,” I muse between my rapid breaths as I grip her under each knee and hoist her up. I turn, slamming her back into a wall while thrusting deeper and deeper into her.
“More,” she grunts, nearly feral.
Moving her to wrap her legs around my waist, I continue while my hand travels to her bouncing breast. I take the peachy nipple in between my fingers and give it a pinch.
“Oh, you like that?” I smirk as she cries out again. I feel her trying, and failing, to match my rapid thrusts.
This little bird has been caged far too long, not allowed to explore, to find her freedom in new heights. Well, time to take care of that.
My hand leaves her breast, traveling up her delicate throat. I watch her eyes ignite with a fire that rivals the forge as I give her throat a testing squeeze.
“You like that?” I whisper as she nods.
“Yes, please.”
I grip her throat tighter as I pound faster into her, my smooth rhythm becoming increasingly frantic.
She gasps and sputters, her hand gripping my forearm, her nails drawing blood.
I look from my arm to her eyes, then loosen my grip slightly as her legs squeeze my waist even more tightly.
As she takes her first full lungful of air in some time, the rush sends her over the edge.
She comes around my cock as I slide my thumb from her throat to her lips and she sucks on the thick digit eagerly.
“Dove?” I whisper, running my tongue around her occupied lips.
She moans around my finger, the vibrations shooting through my bones and humming against my lips. I pull my thumb from her mouth and she whimpers at the loss. I immediately slam my mouth flush to hers as she rides out the last throes of her orgasm.
When her thighs stop shaking, I sit back on my discarded clothes and pull her into my lap. Gripping her ass in my hands, I guide her sweat-and-dirt-covered body up and down my length while my mouth captures one of her nipples.
“Yes,” she whimpers, her fingers gripping my hair roughly. “Oh, Tommy, you’re so good. Mmm … I want to make you feel good too.”
Pulling back, I look up at her. She’s a vision from this angle. Prim and proper, covered in soot and filth, with nothing but lust in her eyes.
“Choke me,” I rasp as I lie back against the unforgiving stone floor, feeling myself getting close to erupting. “Like I did you. Don’t stop until I tell you.”
She nods, her hand going to my throat. “Ah, ah, ah. Not there,” I growl, then guide her hand behind her back to the right spot. Her eyes bulge in question, and I give her soft hand a squeeze in reassurance.
“Show me what you’re hiding in there, dove. Let me see you uncaged.”
A small smirk pulls at the corner of her swollen lips.
She tightens herself around me as she slides up and down my aching length.
As she picks up the pace, her grip tightens, and I feel the warmth consuming me as my vision begins to darken around the edges.
She doesn’t stop, doesn’t let up, and my stomach tightens, a hot fire in my back.
I roar as I grip her hips and slam her onto me fully.
The sensation of her grip from every angle is a dizzying combination of pure pleasure and unbridled pain.
She releases her grip and brings both hands to my chest as I release inside her.
My vision blurs, and stars burst in my eyes.
My hips buck off the stone beneath me, but Maddy locks in place. The power of that single thrust sends her into another fit of ecstasy and our bodies convulse together.
I do not know how long we stay in that state of euphoria. I only know it is one of the most intense moments of my life. Once my vision clears and the room comes back into focus, I find Maddy’s crystal eyes. She’s already looking at me. Not startled, scared, or unsure. But open.
Her body straddles mine, my softening cock still comfortably connected inside of her. Our breathing is uneven, skin flushed.
I’ve known want before. I’ve known hunger. This is neither.
This is surrender—and it terrifies me.
“Maddy,” I say slowly. My hands cup either side of her face, holding her back, like I can still stop what’s coming. Like I haven’t already crossed every line that matters.
She buries her face into me without hesitation. “Don’t regret this now.”
The words slam reality back into this space harder than the blow of my forging hammer.
I grip the back of her neck and bring her face to mine.
I don’t rush as my mouth finds hers again, slower now, deeper, like I’m trying to anchor myself to the sound of her breath.
Our lips break contact by scant millimeters; my forehead rests against hers.
Both of us are breathing hard, skin damp, hearts still racing.
“I didn’t know it could be like this,” she whispers.
I swallow. “Neither did I.”
That’s the truth. The only other time I’ve felt this present was the only other time I’ve been with her.
Eventually, I try to sit up, helping her shift off of me. She laughs softly at that, a sound that settles somewhere deep in my chest. I steady her without thinking, hands firm at her waist, unwilling to let go yet.
I could stay like this forever. I never want to leave this moment. Contentment washes over me, or is it joy? It’s both, I realize. I think they call that happiness.
Fleeting happiness. For as much as I want to, I know I can’t freeze time.
And Maddy’s next words plunge me back into the harsh truths of our reality.
“I can’t marry Alister. I simply cannot give myself to a man who doesn’t have my heart.”
“Must we speak of him tonight? We know what cruelties face us in the morning. Let’s not allow them to spoil this time for us.”
“My heart belongs to you, Tommy. Always.”