Page 19 of The Countess's Awakening (The Lovers’ Arch #3)

CHAPTER 19

T he day of the ball arrived with surprising swiftness. Focused on continuing with her therapies as she was, she had barely had enough time to have a suitable ball gown made. In London, she would have known exactly where to go, but it was different in New York. Fortunately, Margaret proved invaluable in helping her locate a suitable dressmaker.

When the dress had arrived that morning, it had taken her breath away. It was a beautiful confection of blue silk, with a glittering bodice beaded with crystals and pearls. She hadn’t worn anything so beautiful in years. Maybe never. But for this occasion, she had wanted—needed—something grand. Impressive. She needed to dazzle these high-nosed Americans into accepting Wang. If she had her better jewelry with her, she would have worn it tonight. Alas, her diamond and sapphire necklace had remained in London, but her pearls would do for tonight. The gown was magnificent armor. And this was a battle she was determined to win.

The widening of Kai’s eyes, the sheer appreciation in its dark depths as she appeared at the top of the stairs, told her the gown was causing the desired effect.

“You look stunning,” he said, climbing the stairs at a clip, not once taking his eyes off her. He stopped a step beneath her, taking her hand to place a kiss on her satin-gloved palm. She felt the warmth of his breath through the fabric, and goosebumps all along her arms.

“Thank you. You look very sharp yourself,” she whispered.

He took her breath away in his evening attire. His well-tailored suit accentuated the lean strength of his frame, the dark silk of his cravat a stark contrast to the crisp white of his collar, while the ice blue waistcoat provided a beautiful complement to her own gown. If they had planned to coordinate their attire, it couldn’t have turned out more perfectly.

He had combed his dark hair back, accentuating his high cheekbones and sharp jawline. She wondered how long it would take for his rebellious lock of hair to escape the control of the pomade. She looked forward to it falling over his brow.

The corner of his eyes crinkled with appreciation and color bloomed on his cheeks at her compliment. But he only inclined his head and tucked her hand on his arm as he helped her descend the stairs and depart for the ball.

Together, they entered the grand Fifth Avenue mansion. According to Wang, this was the pinnacle of a prestigious address in New York, akin to Grosvenor Square in London. Well, she had attended many a ball at a Grosvenor Square residence. She had never been haughty—it was not in her nature—but neither was she intimidated by haughtiness or the flashy display of the lavish mansion.

The gilded chandeliers of Lady Caroline’s grand ballroom cast a golden glow over the assembled elite of New York, their jewels glittering as they moved in swirling waves of silk and satin. Esther stood at the threshold, her gloved hand resting lightly on Wang’s arm.

He stood with quiet confidence, his posture effortlessly elegant, his expression unreadable but composed. If he felt the sting of their scrutiny, he did not show it. To Esther, he was the equal of any man present. But not everyone in attendance seemed to agree.

The first wave of greetings was measured. Some—those eager to court her favor—offered effusive pleasantries, their smiles too wide, their eyes darting to Wang before quickly skittering away. Others were cool, polite but distant, their greetings clipped, their gazes guarded. A few simply ignored them altogether, their disdain evident in the whispers that trailed in their wake like the rustling of silk skirts.

Through it all, Wang remained composed, his face an unreadable mask of quiet dignity. He neither courted their approval nor shrank beneath their scrutiny. When he inclined his head in greeting, his manners were impeccable, his voice measured and even. He did not seek to ingratiate himself, nor did he display the meekness they might have expected from a man of his background. He stood as he always did—unshaken, self-possessed, a man who knew his own worth and didn’t need to flaunt it.

And then, as if to defy them all, he led her onto the dance floor.

“I believe you wished for a dance, my lady.” His eyes bore into her as he extended his hand. The first strains of a waltz wafted from the orchestra.

She did not hesitate for a second. Placing her hand in his, he allowed him to lead her onto the dance floor.

Despite his claim that he could not dance, the moment he took her hand, she knew he had learned. He moved with innate grace, his steps precise yet fluid, guiding her across the polished floor with a quiet confidence that stole her breath. She had dreamed of dancing with him, but the reality surpassed her imaginings. They moved as one, with him measuring his steps to her level of comfort. If she ever faltered, he held her secure, his touch firm but careful, his gaze steady upon hers. It was not just a dance—it was a statement. Or perhaps a declaration of something he couldn’t put into words.

She caught sight of their audience from the corner of her eye. The whispers, the sidelong glances, the pursed lips of matrons too scandalized to speak but unwilling to look away. Let them whisper. Let them judge. She didn’t care, but maybe she had not stopped to consider how this would feel for Wang.

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m dancing with the most beautiful woman in this ballroom. I’m feeling splendid.”

Her eyes smiled up at him. “And you said you couldn’t dance.”

“I learned.”

“You are a fast learner. You dance flawlessly, like I knew you would.”

As if to prove his prowess, he led her through a turn, never taking his eyes off her.

“I’m sorry if I’ve put you in an uncomfortable situation.”

He shook his head. “Don’t worry about that. Right now, just enjoy our dance. I know I am.”

When the music ended, she let out a shaky breath. She may be able to walk now, but dancing required quite a lot of stamina. He guided her from the floor, his hand resting lightly against the small of her back.

“How do you feel?” He was always so attuned to her needs.

“I am a bit tired,” she murmured, truth and excuse woven together.

Wang looked down at her, his dark eyes unreadable, though she knew he had seen and heard all that she had. Without hesitation, he inclined his head. “Then we shall go.”

They made their way toward the exit, past faces that welcomed her but struggled to mask their unease around Wang. She longed to stop, to tell them what a great man he was, to make them see what she saw. But she knew it would not matter. Not tonight.

Instead, she squeezed his arm and whispered, just for him, “Thank you for the dance.”

His lips quirked, the faintest hint of a smile. “It was my pleasure.”

And with that, they escaped the gilded cage of the ballroom, into the cool, crisp night beyond. She had not expected to win the battle tonight. Not really. Just as with her rehabilitation, it would take time and determined effort. But she had both. She left today, but they had made a statement. This was a strategic retreat to continue the battle another time.

***

Wang’s mood was spiraling down a dark vortex as he escorted Esther home that night. Not for him—he didn’t care one fig for the opinion of this stuck-up elite—but he was angry on Esther’s behalf. She had naively believed she could prevail upon them to accept him. He had known it would be impossible and thus should have protected her from disappointment. Instead, he had allowed this farce to play out, and now he regretted it.

The events of tonight had only driven home a truth he had always known. They didn’t belong together. He would never be accepted in the circles she belonged to. Their relationship had lasted in anonymity. Now that their association had become public, further entanglement would only drag her down. Mire her in scandal and gossip. He couldn’t allow that to happen. She had made a full recovery—the way they had danced tonight was conclusive proof of that. It was time to let her go.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow, he would let her go. But tonight, before the night ended and the harsh light of a new day conquered the darkness, tonight she was still his. And he intended to have, taste, feel, and possess every inch of her. He would imprint her in his soul so that he could carry her with him for the rest of his life.

The carriage drew to a stop in front of his house, and he helped her descend, his manner solicitous and careful as always, but once they were inside, and they had shed their coats, he swept her into his arms. His arms that had carried her so many times. She didn’t need it anymore, but he did.

Her musical laugh fluttered against his neck.

“I can climb the stairs on my own now,” she purred.

“I know. But I enjoy carrying you.” And it might be for the last time.

He took her up to the bedchamber they had shared for the last four months and set her down slowly, sliding her down the length of his body, letting her feel the desire she inspired in him. Even before her feet touched the floor, she turned and sought his mouth. He gave it to her, captured her lips in a deep kiss, explored her mouth, sought her flavor, luxuriated in the texture of her velvety tongue, and drank down the sweet mewls of pleasure as she exhaled.

His fingers had not been still. They played over the fastenings of her gown, undoing the row of buttons down her back, unwrapping her like the most precious of gifts. When his mouth finally left hers, it was to slide across her downy cheek, down the slim column of her throat.

“You looked so lovely tonight. I could hardly wait to get you home to devour you.”

She chuckled at his declaration. Her hands had not been still either. They had undone the knot of his necktie and the top button of his shirt, and now her questing lips were also cruising along his throat, dotting it with kisses and little licks that were driving him crazy with want, inflaming his desire to dangerous levels.

He needed her out of this dress now. Stepping out of her embrace, he turned her away from him to focus on his task of undoing the maddening row of buttons. But the curve of her neck where it met her shoulders still distracted him, the creamy skin calling to his mouth.

The last of the buttons undone, he pressed his mouth to the center of her back, right above the edge of her corset. So many layers. He was desperate to have her naked under his touch, and at the same time wanted to savor this unveiling. To cherish every inch of skin he revealed.

He found the laces of her petticoats and crinolines, untied them, and pushed the gown off her shoulders with a caress down her arms. The entire mass of silk collapsed to the floor in a froth of fabric.

Before she could step out of it, he held her with an arm around her waist and the other around her chest and lifted her, dragging her backwards. The curve of her bottom, covered only by the thin fabric of her drawers, pressed against his aching erection, and the minx arched and rubbed into it, pillowing his cock between the soft cheeks of her buttocks. He tightened his hold on her, rocking into it, while his hand snaked down the front to cup her mound, his fingers delving through the opening of her drawers to find moist heat at her core.

“So wet. So ready for me.” His voice was an indistinct murmur in her ear.

“Yes.” The word was a moan of ecstasy as she dropped her head back onto his shoulder.

His fingers played slowly over slick flesh, finding her button, tormenting it until her breathing fractured and she was panting, her hips jerking in a steady rhythm that matched the tempo of her need.

“Kai…” she sobbed. His name on her lips was the most erotic sound he had ever heard.

“Yes, my darling. Let go. Fly free. I’ll catch you..”

He traced the delicate whorl of her ear with his tongue before biting down on it with controlled pressure. She exploded in his arms. Her flesh pulsing against his fingers, while her slight weight pressed more firmly into him, as if her legs needed his support, having lost their strength not from injury this time, but from mind-numbing pleasure.

But he wasn’t done. Not even close. Guiding her a couple of steps toward the bed, he set her palms around the bedpost.

“Hold on,” he commanded, and she obeyed, wrapping her hands around the wood.

He tore at the laces of her corset with contained ferocity, loosening the garment until it fell to the floor with a thud.

At last, her body was free for the exploration of his hands. He cupped her breasts through the thin lawn of her chemise, the material a flimsy barrier that could not disguise her stiffening peaks and warming skin.

“I love your breasts,” he whispered in her ear. “I love the feel of them in my hands, so round, perky, and dainty, just like the rest of you. Do you like it when I touch them?”

“You know I do.” Her voice was a breathy whisper of need.

“And when I do this?” He pinched her nipples with careful pressure, making her moan and strain toward his touch, her bottom once again backing up to his front. “Tell me.”

“Yes!”

“Do you want my hands directly on your breasts, with no fabric in the way?”

“Please.”

He lifted away the chemise, leaving her standing only in her drawers and stockings.

And then his hands alighted on warm, silky, pliant flesh. “Hmm, so much better.” He purred against her ear.

A pinch to her nipples elicited a moan and a squirm from her. Her bottom was grinding against his hard cock, and the friction was driving him half mad with want. He suspected if it weren’t for the barrier of his trousers, he would have already taken her like this. Standing up. From behind. Insanity. She may have recovered, but she wasn’t ready for that.

So he slid his hands downward, molding her slim torso with possessive hands. Learning every dip and curve. When he reached the ribbon that held her drawers, he pulled at it, skimming his hands over her waist and down the brief curve of her hips. The scrap of fabric fluttered to the floor, exposing the gentle curve of her bottom.

His hands kneaded the orbs, but he needed more. Without conscious thought, he kneeled behind her and placed a kiss on the cusp of one of the mounds. She squirmed and tittered, but his hands on her hips held her steady, and he trailed his mouth to the other cheek and bit it.

Her squeal was more of surprise than pain, and she immediately relaxed when he followed the first bite with a second. A squeeze, a massage, another bite. He adored her ass. How many times, while doing the therapies, had he dreamed of doing just this? He had forced his hands to never touch beyond the appropriate. Had forbidden his eyes to look.

But now she was his. And he could delight in her body, in her love.

Love. There it was, that word again. He didn’t want to think about it. The love she might feel for him, or him for her. They did not belong together, so it was best if pleasure and friendship were all there was between them.

Standing up, he turned her to face him again and fused their mouths, walking her backwards a few steps until the back of her legs hit the bed.

“Get on the bed,” he growled against her ear.

She obeyed instantly, sitting on the bed, inching backward on her behind until she perched in the center of the mattress. He followed, prowling over her until his thighs straddled her hips. Swooping down, he recaptured her mouth in a ravaging kiss that went on forever. Pressing her down into the mattress. Her hands were not idle. They grabbed fistfuls of his shirt, pulling it from his trousers, and then sneaking under to caress his back skin to skin.

He could have purred under her touch, his lovemaking becoming slower, less frenzied for a minute. But then he remembered his purpose. He planned to map and kiss every inch of her body.

Leaning down, he took one nipple into his mouth, teasing the tightly furled tip with his tongue, then closing his lips around it to suck rhythmically. Her hips bucked, her legs wrapping around his waist. The warmth of her pussy seeped through the cloth of his trousers, scalding him with her need.

“Kai, please.” She grabbed his head with both hands and moved him to the other breast, squirming and moaning when his mouth transferred his attention to the other nipple. She wasn’t passive, his Esther. Her fingers tunneled through his hair, her nails scraping his scalp, her hands fisting in his hair, pulling, directing him.

“Oh, God. It’s too much. Kai… I can’t stand it.”

“Yes, you can,” he growled against her heart but gave her over-sensitized breasts a brief reprieve as he slid downward over her body.

The small triangle of dark curls at the apex of her legs beckoned him. Pushing her legs open wide, he fell on her like a starving man. The first swipe of his tongue over her slick flesh drew a guttural cry from her, and her hips bucked.

“Stay still.” He growled, grabbing her hips to immobilize her for his feasting. Her taste was intoxicating, an elixir he couldn’t get enough of.

“I can’t… I can’t stay still when you do that,” she panted.

“What, this?” Another swipe, this time over her bud.

She strained against his hold, her hips undulating against his mouth. He was going to savor her until she exploded against his mouth.

Her hands came once again to tangle in his hair as if to hold him. Make sure he wouldn’t leave until he satisfied her. If his mouth were not so wonderfully occupied, he would have told her there was no chance of him leaving the heaven between her legs.

He inserted his tongue deep, mining for the delicious essence of her, relishing her moans, her undulating hips, her hands clawing into his scalp. She was so close. He could feel it. Taste it. He concentrated his efforts on her pearl, licking, sucking. Inserting one finger, then another into her tight sheath. He twirled them around, the wet sounds of her flesh as it sucked at his fingers driving him crazy as he mimicked the movement with his tongue around her bud in a repeated pattern. She tensed, her breathing quickened, and she exploded against his mouth. He stayed with her until the last pulsations rippled against his tongue, around his fingers. Then withdrew them slowly, sitting up to bring them into his mouth and lick them clean.

“Kai…” She said his name with the dazed tone of a well-pleasured woman. That he had given her this satisfaction made him feel invincible.

“Kai, that was spectacular, but now I need you in me. Please.” She spread her legs farther, and he almost came in his pants, like a callow youth, at the sight of her pink, glistening pussy. But it was more than that. It was the invitation. The acknowledgment of the need to be joined.

He freed his erection with astonishing speed, desperate to be welcomed into her slick heaven. Rising on one elbow, she grabbed his engorged cock and poised it at her entrance as soon as it sprang free.

Every fiber in his body demanded that he slammed into her, but he forced himself to penetrate her slowly, watching as his cock slid into her. Her guttural groan and clawing at the bedsheets told him she felt it too as he sank to the hilt.

And then the beast broke free as instinct took over. His hips pumped furiously. His cock pistoned into her with a frenzied need. This was madness. Savagery. Sublime. He would have worried, except she was with him every step of the way. Arching her back, rolling her head in ecstasy.

He changed positions, lying on top of her, desperate to feel the entire length of her body. Skin against skin. Sleek with sweat, panting with desire. Her hands pressed down his back, coming to rest on his buttocks. He loved her hands there while they made love. And then she contracted, inhaling in a ragged breath and digging her nails into his flesh.

“Oh, God. Again. Kai…”

Her exclamation of ecstasy as her flesh pulsed around him was the last push. His climax overtook him with the force of a typhoon, drawing him under, taking her with him. He was aware of his own guttural cry mixing with her keening moan as they exploded together.