CHAPTER NINE #2
I glance down at his lap, where his member now rears straight and much taller. Harder. Beautiful, in its own fashion, with its veining and deep coloration.
Heat, sharp and fast, flushes over my skin. He laughs again at my mortification before slipping his enormous fingers through my hair, which has fallen in disarray.
“Those words are not polite,” I snap.
“How about cock? And cunt?”
“No! Where did you ever learn…?”
He feigns surprise, but his eyes sparkle. “Surely, you cannot take exception to words located in your dictionary?”
“They were not.”
“No, they were not,” he admits. “The men at the card game taught me.”
“They were quite wrong to do so.”
“Well, what words would you use to tell me you wished my impolite i?arum to fuck your impolite kir?”
I swallow back a sudden desire to hit him. Or kiss him. Demi-god or not. “We don’t discuss male and female body parts at all.”
“And fucking?”
“Are you trying to kill me?”
He laughs again before leaning in, his breath scalding against my ear as he whispers. “I’m trying to seduce you, but if that isn’t clear, I’ll take a more direct approach. Later.”
If burning more was possible, the entire town would erupt in a conflagration. “Alad.”
“Tell me something you like about me, pretty Char.Lot. Tell me, so I know you aren’t afraid of me any longer. Tell me so I know you like me.”
“Of course, I like you. You’re amazing.”
His golden eyes glow. “Tell me.”
Arousal as I’ve never felt it swamps low in my belly. “I like your wings. They’re beautiful. I want to stroke them on my skin.”
I didn’t. I didn’t just say that, did I?
“Promising.” His lips finally touch me as his teeth nip at my earlobe. “I can brush them all over your naked body if you like.” He doesn’t make it a question.
Because who wouldn’t like that? A groan echoes around the room. The sound comes from me.
“Why can’t you accompany me to London?” His lips, soft, so soft, find my neck. One kiss. Two. Three. I feel the lick of his tongue.
His beard is rougher than his embrace.
Unbidden shivers race up and down my spine, up and down my blood. “B-because.”
He lifts from his attentions, but his hand reaches to touch my cheek. “Because you don’t wish to be seen with me?”
“Not that.” My voice is only a whisper. “Though you shouldn’t be seen. You’ll cause a panic unless you can keep human form.”
“Then, you can’t return because you’re a fallen woman of ill-repute, too willing to give away what you should sell? I learned the term from your penny dreadfuls. Very useful, though small, books.”
I gasp and turn away.
He follows, gently rotating my head back so I have no choice but to face him. “I’ve also learned that whores are not an accepted part of your society. Is this so?”
Tears spring to my eyes. I try to pull free again. Again, he denies me. I can’t do anything to escape but close my lids. Still, he’s there on the other side of the darkness. I feel him.
When I’m brave enough, I open my eyes. “Yes. When I went off with you as an unmarried woman, I was instantly branded. Ruined. There isn’t any salvation for me now. None of my old friends and acquaintances will accept me again. Mary can’t house me again.”
“This is true? Because I took you with me?”
The truth of it is like swallowing shards of glass. He must read the answer in my face.
We sit in silence until he asks, “Will marriage to me cure your reputation, like it does in the book where the lord kidnaps the governess?”
Gads, what have I given him to read? But who knew he would ever understand the words? “I…er… yes. I suppose. But…”
“I will think on it, then. Tell me, if I were to ask, would the idea of marriage to me be repugnant to you?”
“Repugnant? Why would it be repugnant?” Strange word to use when my fingers haven’t stopped arching, hoping to stroke the rippled muscles of his abdomen. And lower.
“Because I’m a monster.”
There exists a world behind his words. I hear the sadness of it. A sense of loss and defeat, as if someone hurt him deeply with the description.
“No. I—we may have called you a beast and monster when you were nothing but a stone sculpture, but now…now, whatever you are, you’re magnificent. You’re amazing, Alad. The only thing I feel when I look at you is… well.” I swallow, too scared to tell him the truth.
How I want him. How I’m terrified to want him because I know exactly how repulsive the act is. The act—not him.
“Only what?” He leans closer, his eyes intense jewels.
“Only curiosity.” I substitute the last word for the one I initially wanted to use. Aroused.
I want him. My body wants him. Whatever form he decides to take, I want to feel his lips, his wings, his fingers, his fur. I want to feel him rubbing against me. Inside me.
But these are things I can’t say. I was born and raised a lady, some later, intemperate decisions notwithstanding.
His face blanks. I can’t tell what he’s thinking. His hand falls to my thigh, and he squeezes almost absently. Instantly, a rush of desire flushes between my thighs. I melt towards him before I can counteract my worst instinct.
His nose twitches. Suddenly, he smiles. “I see. Well, for the sake of curiosity, you should know that I wish to exercise my curiosity as well. Often.”
“Oh.” But all of me turns to jelly. I’m wobbling like a good aspic melting in the sun.
“Is there any reason I shouldn’t wed you, Char.Lot?”
And there it is, a bucket of icy water thrown over my head. Instantly, my back snaps rigid. What was I thinking to forget for even a moment what I am?