Page 26 of The King of Whitechapel (Victorian Outcasts #7)

twenty-six

L ANTERNS AND FLOWERS brightened the courtyard in the palace. Lively music drifted from a corner where a few people were playing violins, harpsichords, and accordions. The celebration for the latest shipment and the defeat of Pearce was fully ongoing.

Elizabeth danced with Finn, an Irish dance that was all jumps and quick passages. She laughed when Finn held her hands and made her run in a wide circle. The whole world spun with her. If he let her go, she’d find herself sprawled against the wall. When the music ended, she clapped her hands along with the others. The warm night and the people dancing and laughing reminded her of when she’d lived with her brothers and sisters in Spencer Hall and played and danced with them. Another life. Now they wouldn’t glance her way.

“Thank you, Finn.” Breathless, she hugged the boy.

“Any time, miss.”

She walked over to the table where the drinks and the food were set and tried a slice of the acorn cake Jane had baked. The not-too-sweet taste of the honey was perfectly balanced by the nutty flavour of the acorns. Jane might be a bitter woman, but she could cook.

Finn joined her. “I was thinking about going to the library to study.”

“Good idea,” she said between morsels. “It’s quiet and has everything you need.”

He poked her with an elbow. “Did you see the Guv?”

“Christopher is here? I thought he was still at the dock.” Elizabeth gazed around, putting down her plate. “I want to dance with him. Where is he?”

He tilted his chin towards a corner. “He hasn’t taken his eyes off you for a moment.”

Elizabeth followed Finn’s gaze. Christopher leant against one of the pillars in the dimly lit arcade, a mug in his hand. His heated blue gaze burned her. It cut through the crowd to find and claim her.

There was nothing kind in that stare, only raw desire about to explode.

The music started again, but as a woman dragged Finn towards the centre of the courtyard for another dance, she didn’t join the dancers. She headed for the arcade and brushed past Christopher. He followed her with his gaze as if there were an invisible rope tying them together. Maybe there was.

She pressed her back against the wall in a dark corner, still breathless but for a reason other than the dance. He put the mug down and went to her, moving with rapacious intent, but she wasn’t scared. The closer he came, the faster she breathed.

Standing a few inches from her, he placed both his hands on the sides of her head. He was so close a whiff of his heady scent made her dizzy. Maybe his desire was contagious because all of a sudden, she needed to feel his hands and lips on her body. He raked a slow gaze over her, and she felt that gaze on her skin, like a caress.

“Do you know what you do to me?” His voice was nothing but a low growl.

She licked her bottom lip, and he followed the gesture, his eyes growing wider. “No, I don’t,” she said among pants.

He dipped his head and paused, his lips a breath away from hers. “Shall I show you?”

Her skin tingled with his deep baritone, his words, and the dark hunger he radiated.

“Yes,” she whispered.

He closed the little space between them, making her feel all the taut muscles in his powerful body. He’d always been well-built and strong, but the past years and his criminal life had made him magnificent.

She was effectively trapped between the wall and him, but she had no intention of escaping. Yet he didn’t take advantage of his dominating position by touching her or kissing her. His breath mingled with hers as he devoured her with his gaze only.

Finally, he touched her, trailing his fingertips over her cheek and down her neck. He stopped on the neckline of her dress, sucking in a sharp breath. He closed his hand around her neck gently, but her pulse drummed a fast tempo against his palm.

“Go to my room and wait for me.” It was an order she wasn’t going to disobey. “Now.”

He stepped back from her, staring at her. He gave her barely enough room to slip out of his grip. His stare followed her up the stairs, sending shivers down her back.

When she slipped into his bedroom, a moment of uncertainty caught her. She had no idea what she was supposed to do. Lie down in his bed, strip naked, or sit politely on the chair and wait?

The sound of the music and laughter came muffled through the thick door. She paced on the rug in front of the blazing fire and searched around for inspiration. But then again, he’d told her to wait, and she wasn’t exactly a seductress.

She sat on the bed only to stand up again when the door opened and laughter roared from downstairs. He stepped into the room, and she couldn’t suppress a shiver. His presence dominated the bedroom, choking the space. She remained still, trembling with anticipation.

He locked the door behind him without taking his eyes off her. His stare burned so intense she wouldn’t be surprised if she found herself naked from it.

The world vanished, sucked into the warm light of the bedroom and the heated tension between them. He took his time crossing the room while shedding his long coat, like the wings of a fallen angel. He carefully removed the gun and dagger and placed them on his escritoire. Each movement was slow and deliberate, driving her mad with need. By the time he was again an inch from her, she was panting and throbbing.

“Undress.” It was another order in a tone that didn’t leave room for protests.

She shouldn’t find that so intriguing.

Her fingers became suddenly clumsy as she hurried to unbutton her shirt. He watched her silently, doing nothing to speed up the process. The crackling of the fire and her uneven breathing were the only sounds.

When the shirt was open, she shrugged out of it impatiently. Unfastening the skirt and petticoats was a quick thing. Then she removed her corset, boots, and stockings, but when it was the moment to remove her chemise and drawers, she hesitated.

She had the thought it was the first time a man had seen her naked. But actually, Christopher was the only man who had seen her naked.

He regarded her from underneath hooded eyes. “Why did you stop?”

“I’m a little nervous.”

He caressed her cheek, and the simple, tender touch sent a jolt through her. “You can leave whenever you want, or I can leave if you prefer.”

“No.” She leant into his hand.

“I want you naked.”

She swallowed hard.

“Do you want me to finish?” he asked.

“No.”

She untied her drawers and lowered the straps of her chemise with a quick gesture, lest her modesty stop her again. His eyes darkened with desire as the light from the fire was the only thing covering her skin.

“And now?” She ached everywhere. Even her lips tingled.

“Sit on the bed.”

He didn’t move though, so she had to brush against him to do as told. He hissed a breath when her breasts touched his arm. The mattress dipped when she perched on the bed.

“Loosen your hair,” he said.

She made short work of removing the hairpins and undoing the chignon. Her curls fell over her shoulders and breasts in a soft swish .

He loomed over her, staring at every bare inch of her. “You’re so beautiful.”

She tilted her head back to look at him. “You make me feel beautiful.”

He knelt in front of her and spread her legs wide, none too gently. That was all the warning she had before he dipped his head.

She wasn’t ready for his deep kiss. She wasn’t ready for the onslaught of pleasure. She wasn’t ready for the shock.

The first lash of his tongue jolted her. The second made her gasp. The third caused her to shudder.

She closed her fists on the quilt, loud moans leaving her. He held her by the hips, going deeper with his expert tongue. The pleasure was so strong she had to close her eyes. He put her knees on his shoulders to get closer until his lips were the only thing she felt on her body.

All her focus gathered on the spot of her body where his tongue stroked her, on his slow lapping, and his gentle lips against her.

The burst of energy rushing through her caused her back to arch. She closed her thighs around his neck in response, panting and burning for him. The release was a primordial force that coursed through her like lightning. She lay back, boneless and dizzy with pleasure. How was she supposed to know such a pleasure was possible? How could she live a normal life after that?

He kissed her inner thighs, grazing them with his teeth gently as he moved up her body, scattering kisses. He paused once he straightened up, his chest rising and falling quickly.

When he moved over her, she wrapped her legs around his hips. He licked his glistening lips, fluttering his eyelashes down.

“I haven’t finished,” he said in a coarse voice that made her achy again. He took her wrists and put her arms over her head. “Stay like this. Don’t move.”

The heat seemed to consume her body while he drank her in. He propped himself up on one elbow to caress her breasts. The first stroke was madly slow and incredibly powerful. But he used more strength after that, rubbing her nipple with his rough fingers until it became painfully taut. His rugged pads only amplified the wonderful sensation that shot a throb between her legs. She writhed, moaned, and arched her back, growing mad with need. When she lowered her arm to grab his shoulders, he stopped.

“Arms up.”

She did as told without hesitation. But then he closed his hot mouth around her nipple, and she writhed again, rocking her hips and searching for more friction. He was still fully clothed, but if the fabric of his trousers or shirt chafed her skin, she didn’t notice or care.

She wanted to tangle her fingers through his glorious hair, but he would stop kissing her. He worshipped her breasts with his wicked tongue and lips, switching between them when she grew too achy.

“Please,” she whispered because she couldn’t speak louder.

He slid a hand between her legs and found her wetness. She unashamedly cried out when he rubbed her slowly while rolling her nipple between his lips.

The pleasure was too much, overwhelming, unmanageable. She muffled her scream with his shoulder, wrapping her arms around him. Spasms rocked her body, and he held her through the release, giving her all the support she needed.

The burst of pleasure seemed to go on forever, more powerful than the first. When her breathing returned to normal, she sagged on the bed, happy and satiated. He stared at her again, but this time, there was a tenderness in his expression that melted her heart.

“So beautiful,” he whispered, caressing the side of her breast. “Sleep here tonight. With me.”

“Yes.”

He rose only to unbutton his shirt and trousers.

The light of the fire agreed with him; it exalted all the sharp ridges and edges of his sculpted body. When he was fully naked, he gathered her in his arms and tucked her in bed, slipping in with her.

Lying naked with him under the covers felt familiar, safe, and exciting at the same time. She snuggled closer to him, and he wrapped his arms around her. His sweet hug and warm body were the perfect conclusion for the most powerful release of her life.