Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
“Iknow you are disappointed,” Cedric stated once they reached the privacy of his carriage.
In response, Deborah flung off her top hat and dragged her mask away from her face, tossing it toward the empty seat by Cedric’s side.
“Nigel knows something,” she bitterly replied, loosening the cravat around her neck. It felt too tight- it all felt too tight.
“I think so as well,” Cedric agreed, pulling off his own mask, “But whatever he knows, he is not willing to share. At least for now. I will go back on my own in another week or two and try to speak with him again.”
“Do not,” Deborah retorted, that still-new sense of possession riling up through her again. “If you go back, your mask will start to become recognizable, and they will expect you to bid again.”
Cedric’s furrowed brow went lax at once, and he dropped his shoulders.
“That will not do, will it?” He murmured, leaning his elbows on his knees to rub his hands.
“No, it would not,” Deborah muttered. Then, still feeling caged, still feeling disgusted by all she saw and felt, she dropped her head back and let out a snarl of rage.
“Why does justice have to be this hard to acquire?!” She seethed. “Why do you do this?”
“Who?” Cedric asked.
“You! All men!” Deborah seethed, pointing an accusing finger at him, “Why are you like this? Why do you need auctions and mistresses and why do you have to be so foul with how you see women?!”
Cedric flinched but did not say or do anything to stop her.
“Go on then,” he egged on instead, “Let it out.”
“What?” She hissed.
“Your rage. Men of all sorts have disappointed you for a very long time. You obviously need a target to aim all those hard feelings at. We have over an hour in this carriage, so you might as well use it to let go of some of that anger,” he said, spreading his arms in invitation.
“Say it all,” Cedric encouraged, “Give it to me. I won’t take offense. I know, especially now, that I am part of the problem. So give it to me. All that disappointment and hatred. Aim it at me.”
A lump formed in Deborah’s throat. Fresh tears stung her eyes. It seemed ridiculous to think that she had been waiting all this time for permission to let her rage out, but now that she had it, she opened her mouth and screamed.
She screamed for the loss of her father- the only man she’d ever known who had not failed her or used her.
She screamed out her fury for Sylvester, for all men who were like Sylvester, who viewed women as objects and not people to be treasured or cherished.
Finally, she screamed at Cedric. For all men who were supposedly ‘not part of the issue’ but still did nothing to make it better for women, and even used the patriarchal system when it suited their needs.
She did not wipe away her tears. She wore them proudly, for they were not just for her, but for the failure that existed between all men and women.
Deborah screamed out these words, holding nothing back until her throat was raw and her chest ached.
She watched as Cedric’s dark eyes remained intense and unwavering as he gave her his undivided attention.
He did not once interrupt her. Not once did he try to defend himself, and even after she ran out of words to scream, he said nothing as she tried to draw in a deep breath to calm her racing heart.
“And this!” She snarled, yanking the jacket from her arms, “This was all a waste of time! I learned nothing! And now I cannot…cannot brea-”
Deborah’s heart raced faster as she tried to breathe, and she found it nearly impossible.
She looked at Cedric, panicked, and without a word, he dragged her into his lap.
He ripped the collared shirt at once, splitting it right down the middle, and then promptly did the same with the tight binding beneath it.
Air flooded into Deborah’s lungs as she was set free. She let her head fall back and parted her lips wide, drawing in deep, fresh, cool breaths of night air, not even caring that she was so exposed to Cedric in that moment.
“You should have told me you were in this much pain.” Cedric’s deep voice was gravelly and raw as he spoke, causing Deborah to bring her head up and look at him. His eyes were not on her chest, as she figured they would be, but were ready to meet her eyes with an intense gaze.
“I did not realize how constricting it had become until a moment ago,” she answered.
“No,” he quickly replied, “I am not just referring to the binding; I am referring to your true feelings. This entire time you said this plan of yours was to seek vengeance on behalf of your sister, but it is quite clear that this goes far beyond that.”
Deborah looked down into his eyes, searching for the anger that his curt tone implied. She found none.
“Would you have listened to me if I would have?” She asked softly, “Would you have cared that the woman you purchased was so enraged?”
Guilt slithered into Cedric’s eyes, and she watched as his jaw tightened and his throat worked to swallow.
“I care now,” he rasped after a moment.
Distrust swept through her, and she pressed her palms into his shoulders, sitting back.
“Do not say things you do not mean,” she bit out.
“I am not,” Cedric insisted, his eyes not once leaving hers, “I do care, Deborah, and trust me when I say that as hard as it is for you to hear it is even harder for me to admit.”
“I do not know how or why I became what I was, but what I do know is that you are the reason that part of me is fading. That my mind is not so focused on chasing my own pleasure but trying to ensure yours and Adeline’s.”
The want to believe him was instant and startling. Deborah winced and tried to look away, but he grabbed her chin and made her stay.
“What you said about me, about all of those men? It was true,” he went on with the same intensity, “I cannot speak for them but I know for me, that I am changing, and that is all because of you. You are right. You do deserve better. Every woman deserves better. And I may not be able to do better for them, but I will do better for you and Adeline.”
The seriousness of Cedric’s words struck Deborah deep in her heart. Yet instead of her heart breaking into yet another piece, she felt as if a fraction of it was stitching itself back together.
She bowed forward, suddenly feeling just how exhausted she truly was. Not just in mind, but in body. Her breasts and ribcage, though now free, still ached from the tight wrapping.
“What can I do?” Cedric asked, reaching to the nape of her neck to massage the tension there, “What can I do that, for at least a moment, can help relieve you?”
Deborah relaxed further into his lap, her tension draining from her by the moment. His massaging hand felt heavenly at the back of her neck, and for a moment, she simply reveled in the pleasure it gave her.
Then a wicked thought entered her mind, shooing away even more of her troubled thoughts. A smile twitched on her lips as she struggled to find the boldness needed to speak the words.
“You…” She paused, her tongue darting out to wet her lips as she gathered her courage.
“Yes?” Cedric readily replied.
“You promised me something earlier,” she went on, feeling her cheeks heat, “Or rather, you promised part of me something earlier.”
Cedric raised a curious brow.
“An apology? For binding up a part of me?” She eluded.
Sparks erupted in Cedric’s eyes as she felt his hand still on the nape of her neck. His nostrils flared, and his throat worked. Yet his eyes did not fall to her still bare chest.
“I did indeed,” he murmured, a rawness entering his deep voice, “It was a shameful thing to mask such a beautiful part of you.”
Heat pooled into Deborah’s core as she felt Cedric’s manhood stir to life between her splayed legs. She had been so caught up in finally being free from the binding that it wasn’t until that very moment that she realized that by straddling his lap, her sex was now pressed tight up against his own.
“I think I would like that apology now,” she breathed, rocking her hips into him, “I think ‘they’ deserve it.”
Cedric’s breath caught as her hips rocked into his, and a mixture of pleasure and power surged through her veins as his dark lashes threatened to flutter shut at the sensation.
“They certainly do,” he rasped, and with a quickness, he used his grip on the back of her neck to bring her lips to his.
She whimpered as she kissed him as greedily as he kissed her, boldly licking and nipping at his lips as she pressed herself tightly to him.
It was only when they were both in dire need of air that they broke apart, gasping, and Cedric’s hand moved from her neck to her back, his other hand coming up to her other side, and he leaned down and nuzzled his face into her breasts.
“Oh, my poor beauties,” he murmured into her chest.
Deborah began to softly laugh, but it quickly turned into a gasp as his mouth began brushing soft kisses over the sensitive flesh.
“Do they hurt?” He asked, then brushed his bottom lip slowly over her left nipple.
Deborah shivered at the pleasure it gave her as her hands tightened at his shoulders.
“Yes,” she breathed, knowing she could tell him the truth.
“I will take it away,” his husky voice promised as his hands moved from her back to gently grasp her breasts, “I will take it all away.”
Deborah let out a low, deep moan as his hands gently squeezed and massaged the supple flesh of her breasts, moving tenderly under her ribcage and up, moving them in small, slow circles.
She felt the nerves buried beneath her flesh slowly uncramp and loosen with his touch.
There was pleasure, yes, but beyond that, there was relief in the way he touched her.
“Let go of your thoughts, your fears,” Cedric murmured, his tone reverent as he spoke into her breasts, “And just feel. For the rest of our journey home, just feel me worship you.”
Deborah’s body felt pliant and heavy as she melted into Cedric’s lap, and to her relief, her mind went blank as her exhausting anger finally burned out.
She let her head loll back as Cedric's mouth and hands worked their magic, relieving her of all the ache she had felt from wearing the tight binding.
When the pleasure of his ministrations became too much to keep holding on to his shoulders, Deborah let herself fall, not caring what would happen.
“Easy, Love, I have you,” Cedric's deep voice promised as he caught her before she could fall too far.
He lowered her down gently until the back of her head was softly placed atop the carriage seat opposite them.
Then, with her lower half still in Cedric’s lap, he grasped her trouser-clad calves and placed the soles of her feet on the cushions where her knees had just been, easing the muscle burn that had briefly started there as she leaned so far back.
Her eyes still closed, Deborah let herself be taken care of as Cedric’s deep voice murmured praises of her beauty and strength.
“How do you feel now?” He asked a while later, his hands still casting their magic spell over her breasts and abdomen.
“Better,” she breathed, struggling to lift her eyes.
She found Cedric dark and hooded as he met her gaze, and the small grin on his face had her sluggish pulse racing.
“I am very glad to hear it,” he murmured, smoothing his healing palms down her ribcage, over her stomach, and to her hips. He gave them a gentle squeeze, and she moaned.
“We have a good while left in our ride,” Cedric explained as he continued his massage. “Do you want to try to get some rest? Or do you wish me to continue?”
“Continue,” she instantly replied.
Tomorrow, she would have to return to reality. Would have to face the many consequences of the night they were having. For now, though, she wanted to remain in this special space she and Cedric had created in the small confines of the carriage for as long as possible.
Cedric’s widening grin told her that was exactly what he was hoping to hear, and he nodded.
“As you wish,” he whispered, his hands smoothing down her thighs.
“Oh,” she breathed as his fingers kneaded her muscles, “Oh, that feels heavenly as well.”
“Mmmm,” Cedric hummed, his palms smoothing down from her thighs to her calves, which he gave a massaging squeeze.
“You know, I realized something,” he went on as his hands continued their soothing touch.
“What is that?” Deborah asked, struggling to keep her eyes open.
Cedric leaned down and grazed his lips over her collarbone as his hands drew back up from her calves all the way up to her breasts, making another moan pour from her lips.
“That your breasts are not the only part of your body I owe an apology to,” Cedric murmured. “Your beautiful legs should never have been confined to trousers. They deserve to be free under pretty skirts, not trapped in such hideous black.”
Deborah let out a husky laugh.
“Is that so?” She mused.
“Oh, indeed,” Cedric answered with a smirk, “I think they need to be freed as well. In fact, I believe that every part of you deserves the same apology that I gave your breasts.”
Deborah blushed, still not used to talking or hearing about her body so openly or positively.
“What is it?” Cedric asked, as if he caught her bashfulness in the dim light.
“I just…I am not used to this. This type of attention or…” she searched for the proper word.
“Devotion,” she finally decided.
Something like guilt glimmered through the desire in Cedric’s eyes, and his hands smoothed to the waistband of her trousers.
“Then pray, let me help you grow accustomed,” he suggested, flipping the buttons at her hips open with his thumbs.
She smiled, closed her eyes, and allowed him to do precisely that.