Page 10 of Ashwood (Wallflowers and Demons #1)

CARNAL THINGS

DORIAN

D espite the many layers of petticoats, Katherine shivers. Her pale skin and short breaths are all signs I recognise.

It is the effects of Laudanum.

She remains confined in the room shuttered, a fire roaring inside the hearth and the coals banked high.

As the damp, tight, and suffocating layers of her gown, are removed, I curse every lace and ribbon that binds her.

With each passing moment, as she is made bare, I can’t help but stare.

Her waist is narrow, her skin golden smooth and soft beneath my touch.

The curvature of her breasts grazes against the beige chemise and the beast inside, sees her too. I divert my eyes, lest he return .

“Nora,” I instruct. “Warm water. Now.”

While the maid tends to the directive, the bed creaks as I sit beside Katherine and rub her hands, then her wrists, desperate to coax warmth back into her.

Nora returns and places a tub of warm water beside me.

She watches me loosen the corset, unbinding the cruel stays so her lungs can expand.

Nora then waves a vial of smelling salts beneath Katherine’s nose.

“It shan’t be long, Your Grace.”

I watch, waiting. At last, Katherine moves ever so slightly, and her eyes open into a thin line. She lets out a croak. “…Dorian?”

Nora expels a relieved sigh. “Your Grace, thank heavens you’re okay. His Grace — he leapt off a boat to save you—“

I raise a hand, gesturing for Nora to depart. “I will call upon you, later.”

Embarrassed, she slams her mouth shut and curtsies. “Yes, Your Grace.”

The maid warily inspects her mistress, but goes.

“Laudanum,” I explain as Katherine fully awakens. “They drugged you.”

Her lips part, and her voice comes out slurred, her temples dotted with perspiration. She briefly lifts her head off the pillow. “The steward… Mr. Cutter…”

“Arrested. Along with the captain. For treason.”

“Treason,” she repeats. “I hope the noose is tight.”

I smooth damp hair from her brow. It is soft to the touch, enough to make my cock squeeze. “Foolish girl,” I whisper. “Did you truly believe the world would only sharpen its claws on me?”

She smiles weakly. “We have not yet been married a single day, and already, I despise being a Duchess.”

I cannot help but chuckle as I fetch the cloth, soaking it with water before dabbing more sweat from her brow. My touch is light, but my jaw is hard. Beneath that calm, fury is held at bay by the thinnest veil. I don’t say what I truly feel.

You terrified me. I was afraid I’d lost you.

“You let your guard down, Katherine. Never again.”

She lifts her chin. “Rest assured, I’ll not make the same mistake twice.”

My fingers trail her throat, thumb stroking her jaw to check her pulse. It’s weak, but steady as I press a glass to her lips. “Drink. Slowly.”

She drinks until her strength fails. With a hand splayed over her back, I ease her onto the pillows.

“You are not indestructible,” I remind her. “I will make certain you never forget that.”

Katherine huffs and expels a breath, exhausted. “A fact made clearer by the second, husband.”

I draw the blankets higher over her shoulders, fingers brushing her throat again, feeling that heart beating stubbornly. “You’ve tempted fate enough for one night. Rest.”

Her eyes meet mine, unblinking. “I daresay I’ve rested enough. I don’t want to close my eyes — not ever again.”

“Stubborn woman.”

She turns up her chin. “A fact I will wear proudly.”

I sneer at her words. “If you die, there will be nobody left to mourn you. Only me.”

She releases a hoarse chuckle. “Oh, how the ancestors will lament over the tears of a barbarian.”

My response is delivered dry.

“Incorrigible, beastly woman.”

A rising heartbeat stretches against my ribcage and I collect another flask from my pocket. It is the last one. I am almost empty. ‘Tis a strengthened mixture, more than the last.

Katherine does not miss a thing. She watches me imbibe with a singular brow raised and a hand clutched at her temples. “You planned to send me away. Why do you care so suddenly?”

My hands are still as the effects of the passionflower wear thin, and the monster slips through the crack of vulnerability.

I slip the flask back into my pocket. The passionflower slowed its hold, but it did not contain him.

No. The pale glow of her iridescent skin against leaping embers draws me close.

Tarnished gold .

My heart hammers against my ribs. Against my will, the transformation blossoms through me.

Take her, the beast demands.

Take her. She is yours.

I cannot fight it any longer.

I succumb.

The bed creaks as I shift closer. My words — I do not know if they are truth or lies.

“You were never meant for the safety of drawing rooms or the dull affections of powdered, polished cunts who call themselves gentlemen. That’s why you ran to me that night.

Why do you run toward danger?” I lean in.

“You belong here. Beneath me. Writhing. Coming… for me.”

Her breath catches as her eyes meet mine. They widen and I know she sees all of me — the monster, for he comes swiftly.

“So tell me, husband,” she pants, fingers moving clear wars until they grip the sheets at her chest, “why did you save me? Why not let me go? What is it that you seek — for it cannot be me.”

Her words tangle inside my heart, and I growl. “The fool inside me speaks, but I will crush him to dust.”

The bed dips as I crawl atop her and straddle her petite frame with my bulking size, a knee wedged between her bunched skirts and her warm thighs.

Already my muscles ache. My fingers tighten over her jaw, moving lower, until they noose around her throat, keeping her in place.

And as I grow, the bed dips again. Her hands envelop mine.

So small.

So fragile…

Weak.

Her pulse beats faster beneath my touch, and the tip of my cock burgeons, hardening as the tip beads with slickness. A tear sounds as my clothes begin to rip.

“Taste,” it screams.

Her pants quicken beneath mine, brows raised, mouth hanging ajar as she watches. She lies still, like a hunted deer two steps away from being eaten.

Those lips, so supple…so soft…

I want to taste them.

My head lowers to meet hers, and a snarl unwittingly escapes. “Say it.”

Her thighs squeeze around mine.

“Say what? You are unwell, Dorian.”

“Who do you belong to?”

There is hesitation, then her hand tighten over mine. “I belong to no man,” She whispers back. “No person, nor beast.”

Black claws indent her throat. I press down, furious at her conviction. “Are you brave or simply foolish, Princess?”

She sucks in a breath, gasping aloud as she is driven deeper into the mattress. “Even monsters bleed, Your Grace. I felled you once, I can do it again.”

Defiant whore .

My cock aches inside my torn trousers. It strains against her thigh until liquid warmth seeps through the other side. The madness comes quickly and I choke out each raw word.

“And even brave women tremble.”

Spread her cunt and fuck her , the beast demands.

Ravage her…

Consume her…

Until she begs for mercy…

The desperate voice that comes is not mine — it cannot be.

“I will ruin you,” it growls. “And you will thank me for the privilege. I will strip you to your bones until all that remains is a woman marked by my name. When the world looks upon you, it will see nothing but this —” I draw a black claw down the smooth contours of her throat, enough to make her shiver. “That you are mine .”

My hand trails downward, palm flat against her chest. Her heart is mad beneath my touch.

She wants me.

My finger cuts silken fabric. It slices away until all that remains is her naked flesh, dewy with sweat, and beading down a taut nipple.

The creature inside me wails.

Taste her. She is sweet.

My tongue lashes outwards .

KATHERINE

If he wants to hurt me, he can. There is not a soul aboard this ship, who’ll stop him. We are married. I’ll never be free.

Palms slide along my clavicle, and my back arches into him.

There are breaths, heartbeats, rapid inhalations, and drumming underneath fingertips.

Palms slide downward, and my back arches into him.

A tongue traces my jawline, along my collarbone, and between the valley of my breasts.

I involuntarily shudder as heat pools in my belly.

If I stay here, he will consume me…

If I stay…I’ll die…

Each flick of his tongue removes all reason.

I shudder as his knee rubs those intimate parts of me through my pantaloons.

Dorian removes them by tearing them off, and when he peers down, I do too.

I see it, the flesh of my womanhood, smattered lightly with dark strands, is bare, slick, and teaming with the saccharine perfume of sex and sin.

There is panic at the carnal things this man can sense. And I know he can smell my arousal.

His heart leaps against mine and more of him is lost. He grows above me, tail lashing out. There is madness inside him. The point of no return is near. If this continues, the beast will not only consume him, but it will kill me.

Fingers splay at my throat, enough pressure to catch my breath. His fingers move down, nails hovering just above my entrance. There is hesitation and I know Dorian has not entirely succumbed to becoming the monster.

Instead, his knuckles press between my legs and the lips of my sex. I dribble over those knuckles and he sees it, eyes wide. I flinch against him. Hot and burning with fever.

I want him to touch me.

I hate him for it.

Dorian is wordless and mindless. The battle wanes inside his eyes, and the gentleman dies a little more with each passing second.

His knees move up, pushing my thighs apart. The rest of his clothes, tear. His cock weeps against my thighs. The bones of his knuckles skin me and I cannot help but thrust myself upon him. I trail down, heat scoring until my lips glide his arm.