Chapter 19
Morrie
French cuffs perfectly ironed. Check.
Exceptional close shave. Check.
Chess set and portable BDSM kit in satchel, in case the opportunity should present itself. Check, and check.
I nod to my reflection as I make one last evaluation of my appearance. Everything seems in order. If I were a hot-blooded woman, I’d fall at my feet in reverence.
But today, I’m not meeting just any woman. I will be in the company of Mina Wilde, and that requires a level of perfection I have hitherto never required.
I glance at my phone. Speaking of my temptress, she’ll be arriving at any moment. As I head downstairs, a familiar crackly old voice floats up from outside, describing an obscene sexual act that even makes me blush.
Mina’s been captured by Mrs Ellis. James Moriarty to the rescue.
I throw open the shop door. There she is, standing on the street in a sexy-as-all-hell tailored military jacket and black leggings laced to reveal a sliver of pale skin at the seams. Well played, gorgeous.
How did you know I have a thing about laces?
Droplets of rain tumble off the end of her adorable nose as she turns her head toward me.
My throat closes up – a foreign sensation to me – and my cock twitches in my trousers.
Through my Mina haze, Mrs Ellis’ words reach my ears. “—If I were you, I’d have both of them. Imagine being the pickle in the middle of that beef sandwich—”
Mina’s cheeks flush with colour, and the thought that she might find that idea even the tiniest bit appealing makes a faint moan escape my lips. Mmmm, this day is going to be such exquisite torture.
If I survive six hours in Mina’s presence without sliding my hand beneath that jacket or unlacing those leggings, I deserve a fucking medal.
I grab Mina’s arm and yank her inside, pulling her against my body in the narrow hallway.
This close, her scent wafts across my nostrils – zesty orange blossom, with a hint of smoky cedar – and I force myself to resist the urge to bury myself in her neck and breathe her in.
My fingers press against her skin, feeling her racing pulse.
“Good morning, gorgeous.” I kiss her forehead. Mina’s eyes flutter shut, her eyelashes tangling together. My cock strains against my waistband, demanding I throw her up against the wall and defile her right there.
Patience, my son. First comes the wooing.
Then the defiling.
“You took your time rescuing me.” Mina manages to untangle herself from my grip. “Mrs Ellis was about to lecture me on my sex life.”
I give her a gentle push toward the door. “Get back out there. I want to hear this.”
Her cheeks flush again. “No time. We’ve got a train to catch. I need my own key.”
“You can tell that to Heathcliff while I finish getting ready. That is, if you can rouse him.”
Mina follows me up the stairs to the flat. She goes over to the fireplace and attempts to shake Heathcliff awake, while I coax a reluctant raven into his cage.
I’m not sure this is a good idea, Morrie. What if I transform on the train?
Then everyone at Charing Cross will get an eyeful of your glorious body, and there will be much rejoicing. C’mon, little birdie, you want to hang out with Mina, don’t you? This is the only way.
Into the cage he goes, with far too much cursing considering I threw some berries in there. Don’t let anyone say I’m uncaring.
Mina finishes berating Heathcliff over the key situation, then she and I depart for the station. I keep up a brisk pace so she has to scramble to catch up with me – it won’t do to have her completely at ease. It’s all part of the wooing, you see.
The train pulls up just as Mina steps onto the platform, her chest heaving, her hair tousled by the wind, and her natural scent mingling with her perfume – making her even more irresistible. We find our reserved seats, and I settle Quoth’s cage opposite Mina, then slide in next to her.
Mina reaches into her bag for a battered paperback, but I have other plans. I whip out my magnetic chess set and arrange the pieces, turning the board so the white pieces face her. “Ladies first.”
She sets down her book and flashes me one of those Mina smiles, the ones that made my cock dance a little jig and my chest do this odd tightening thing, like I’m having a heart attack but in a fun way. “How magnanimous of you. You won’t be so nice to me after I kick your arse.”
I proceed to trounce her soundly five games in a row. She lets me gloat about my wins, which I appreciate – Heathcliff never allows me to savour my moment of victory. He would’ve thrown the chessboard at my head.
While we play, Quoth feeds me all kinds of questions he wants to know about Mina, and I throw in a few of my own.
Normally, I find people’s lives dull and insipid, which is why I enjoy messing with them so much.
But as Mina talks about growing up on the estate and moving to New York City and that strange shouty music she likes, I find myself utterly entranced.
It helps that she curls her hair around her finger as she talks, and I can’t help but imagine what that same hair will look like fanned over a St. Andrew’s Cross.
As we reset the pieces for another game, I slide my finger over Mina’s knuckles. Her breath hitches at my touch, and she drops the queen. It bounces down the aisle, and I have to race after it, scrambling on my knees in an undignified way. But it was worth it.
The wooing is complete. My pulse races as I consider all the filthy, delicious things I want to do to her body, how I’d tie her up and make her beg, how I’d make her squirm and moan and scream beneath me—
Stop thinking disgusting things, Quoth scolds me as we exit the train. Being in your head is like living inside a campy erotic horror film. Mina’s not going to go for any of your kinky fantasies, so cut it out.
No can do, little birdie, I shoot back. Your options are either to get out of my head or enjoy the show.
The train pulls in, and we step out into the heaving, churning mob of people and noise and scent that is London.
I breathe in deep, letting my mind linger for a moment on the memories of what this city had once been and what I had been to it.
Neither time nor distance nor fact versus fiction can slough away the web I built, and now, I return once more to feed.
“Is it weird being here?” Mina asks as we step out of the station and London gathers us into her wanton embrace.
“Why would it be weird?” I flick my thumb over the map on my phone, plotting our path to Holly Santiago’s boutique.
“When you knew London, we didn’t even have automobiles. It must have been a very different city.”
Different, and yet, exactly the same.
I look up from the screen, catching the earnestness in her face, and I struggle to keep the bitterness out of my voice as I reply.
“The London I knew never existed. It was a fiction – one man’s interpretation of what he wanted London to be, a backdrop for his pantomime of good versus evil.
Arthur Conan Doyle was right about one thing, though.
London has always been and will always be the great meeting place of culture, as well as the nexus of all crime.
Everything of interest that happens in this world links back to London. ”
Mina clenches her jaw, and I know from the determined look in her eye that she’s about to confront me with… well, with myself. “Morrie, did you really do all those things Sherlock Holmes said of you in the books?”
“Of course.”
“You were… you are… the organiser of half that is evil and of nearly all that is undetected in this great city?”
“That’s what it says on my business cards.”
Mina bites her lip, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. I have to breathe hard to maintain my thin veneer of decorum. If I pin her against that telephone pole and slip my fingers through those laces, what would she do?
I bet it will stop her pursuing this line of inquiry. Or perhaps I’d need to tie the laces around—
“Croak!” Quoth scolds me.
“You realise that makes it difficult for me to like you, to trust you?” Mina glares at me. “Why do you have to be a criminal now? You have a new chance at life, a chance to be better. Why fall back into the same pattern?”
That’s exactly the question someone like Mina would ask, someone who’s bothered by pesky things like morality and being an upstanding citizen.
I bet she even pays her taxes. I lean forward so our bodies are almost touching, so that all either of us has to do is move an inch and we’d be pressed together with the tension coiling around us like a shower of sparks.
Heat sizzles in the air as I reach down and walk my fingers across the back of her hand until she sucks in a breath.
I pull her book from her bag and wave it in front of her face. “Because of this.”
Mina blinks, reeling from my sudden change of tack. “I’m confused.”
It’s a book of feminist essays. “I found this in the shop when I first arrived in this world. This ‘feminism’ was not even a concept when I first built my empire, but it immediately appealed to me. In this author, I sense a kindred spirit. The power structures of this world are heavily weighted in favour of a handful of people, many of whom obtained that power by nefarious means while convincing themselves they are morally just. I have no patience for morals, but I do so love chaos. The world this author advocates, this fair and equitable world, it is the chaos. I am here to be better, Mina. Instead of reinforcing the power structures I helped to build, I aim to throw a wrench into the works and jiggle things out of place.”
She punches me in the shoulder. “But you’re a privileged white man!”
“Exactly.” The buzzer sounds, and we cross the street. Mina stares up at me with those saucer eyes, and my cock takes over command. I make a split-second decision, placing my hand on Mina’s arm and directing her into a deserted alley. “I’m bringing down the system from within.”
“I’m not sure you’ve entirely grasped the concept of feminism, but I’ll give you points for trying.” Mina is still trying to argue an intellectual point, even though her voice has dropped and those wide eyes peer up at me, begging me to make my move.
“Do I get points for this?” I whip her body against mine, pressing her into the stone wall, and slam my lips against hers.
This is a mistake.
I know it as soon as we touch, when my carefully-crafted control slips away, and the monster inside me takes over.
I know it because she tastes like all the dark secrets I hide from the world, from myself. I know because kissing her makes me dizzy inside, as if I stand on the edge of a perilous cliff, hovering over the crushing power of a waterfall.
My eyes lock on hers, and in those green orbs I see my destruction. Mina is my Reichenbach Falls. She is my doom, and this kiss is me stepping over the edge into oblivion.
But bloody hell, my fall is going to be fucking spectacular.
My tongue tangles with hers, and it’s hot and messy and desperate in a way I’ve never felt before. I don’t just want her, I need her with a ferocity that claws at my chest and turns my brain into a marshmallow while my veins catch fire.
Quoth squawks in protest as his cage clatters on the cobbles, but I’m so far gone I don’t give a shit. All that exists is her – her lips on mine, her tongue plunging deep, exploring my mouth as she worms her way into my mind and heart and soul.
Damn you, Mina Wilde, damn you to Blighty for doing this to me.
My hands are everywhere, carving her body into my memory. My cock rubs against her thigh and I am so far gone I groan into her mouth. I groan like I’m the one who fucking lost control, like I’m plummeting into the churning waters below, and I don’t even care.
I touch the laces, her laces, and I have to pause for a moment or I’ll make a mess of myself right here. The waistband of her leggings is elastic. I slide my hand underneath, stroking her through her panties, feeling how wet she is for me.
Mina’s eyes widen as I push the offending fabric aside and thrust a finger into her wetness. “People will see,” she whimpers, but her head rolls back, and I can’t help but notice she hasn’t demanded I stop.
“Let them see.” I capture her lips as I stroke my finger inside her. “Let them see a woman in charge of her own pleasure.”
So warm, so tight, so perfect. I thrust a second finger inside her and swirl my thumb against her clit.
I need her to come for me. I need to see her undone before she undoes me completely.
Mina squirms beneath my touch, but I clutch her to me, forcing her to stare into my eyes, to stay in the moment, to cling to me as though her life fucking depends on it.
Mina’s lips part and her fingers tighten, nails digging into my skull.
I relish the pain – a physical manifestation of her need.
My thumb works her harder, faster – swirling in her juices and driving her to the edge of her own cliff.
I need her to need me, to cry in desperation, to give herself over to her wanton passion.
I need to feel in control again.
“Bite me, gorgeous.” I place my other hand across her lips. Obedient in a way that sends me reeling, Mina’s eyes are wide as saucers, but she bites down as her body shudders through her release.
Her head rolls back. A sexy sigh escapes her. She turns to liquid in my arms, and I have to slide my fingers out of her to grab her hip and hold her upright.
“Whoa,” she whispers, and her cheeks flush again – the prettiest pink colour.
“Plenty more where that came from. You have only to inquire.” I hold up her hand and kiss it. As Mina regains the ability to hold herself upright, I step away to give her the space to straighten her clothes.
Enjoy the show, little birdie? I smirk inside my head. Quoth can sense my smirk in my thoughts. It’s a talent I have.
You’re sick, he shoots back. And yes. Yes, I did.
I am sick. I smooth down my jacket, tsking at the creases and taking a moment to adjust myself so my erection won’t terrify children.
As much as I desire to finish what we started and the thought of being inside Mina Wilde makes my head spin in the most delicious and terrifying way, I know prolonging the agony will make it even better.
Controlling myself now will make the moment when we topple over the edge together that much sweeter.