Page 9 of This Haunted Heart

Lochlan Finley

R ynn’s retelling of the last day I saw her twenty years ago haunted my heart. I fell asleep, holding her tight, my head heavy with more questions. It caused me to have that dream again, the one where Rynn came to me as a ghost to ravish me in my sleep.

I reached for her in my slumber, trying to pull her closer, afraid she’d vanish the moment I opened my eyes. I tried to hold on to the images my brain had conjured, but they slipped away from me as awareness broke through.

Blearily I blinked awake, taking in the rustic bedroom of the inn. I was still painfully hard, still able to feel the vivid sensations of her lovely lips squeezing my cock.

“Good morning,” Rynn said, leaning between my legs.

My brows pinched together. She’d pulled my trousers and undergarment down below my hips. My cock stood up tall, eager for more attention. She kissed the tip with those perfectly plump lips of hers.

“You little pirate,” I purred.

My next words were lost in something between a groan and pleasure-filled growl as she reclaimed me with her mouth, running her lips down my length. My hips rolled, delving deeper into that sweet, hot cove.

Her big doe eyes found mine through her lashes as she pleasured me, and if I wasn’t already obsessively infatuated and scornfully smitten, I would have fallen hard right then, straight through all nine circles of that hell. She swirled her tongue around the tip before letting my cock pop wetly out of her mouth.

“You look unsure of yourself,” she teased. “Did you want me to stop?”

“You damn well know I don’t want you to stop.” Pushing fingers through her hair, I rolled us onto our sides so that we faced each other. I encouraged her back right where I needed her most, pumping shallowly between her lovely lips.

This was all still a game to her, but by God, it was a game she was an expert at playing. She sucked on my cock like she wanted to separate my soul from my body through that rigid member.

I neared my peak, so close my balls pulled up tight and my cock wept. My little hellcat tugged free with a gasp, lips pink and swollen. My grunt of desperation echoed around the room.

“Trust me,” she soothed, trailing little kisses down the prominent vein on my cock, teasing my balls with her talented fingers. “I’ll get you there. ”

“I feel like I’m going to die,” I told her. I wasn’t even being melodramatic. It truly seemed like I might perish without her.

Her soft laugh teased my tenderest flesh. My skin smoldered, and my throat had never been more parched.

She cured me of my affliction with her lips, swallowing me whole. My climax started in my toes, shot up into my pelvis, and erupted down her throat in warm pulls. To my memory, it was the hardest I’d ever come. Stars sparked in the corners of my vision. For a moment I thought I’d go blind.

Even the climb down from that peak was glorious. I was warm all over and fifty pounds lighter.

“The victorious vixen,” I said, too blissfully relaxed to be bothered by a defeat that didn’t feel like losing at all.

She drained me dry and licked her lips, content as a little kitten. Even with my cock so close to her face, her smile was perfectly demure. She let me hold her there for a while, pushing mussed curls out of her face, ingraining that sultry image into my memory.

I hadn’t realized I’d been frowning until she scooted up the bed and kissed the furrow between my brows away. “You owe me an answer,” she said softly.

“You’ve certainly earned it. Go on and ask me, then.”

She started to speak, then seemed to think better of it, biting down on her lip. Her palm was cool as it caressed my cheek. Her fingers found the scars there and trailed over them.

“Why are you so sad?” she asked. By the look on her face, she’d surprised us both with the question.

I propped my head up on my arm. “That’s what you want? Are you sure?”

She chewed at the inside of her cheek for a moment, still pondering. Then she nodded. “I think I need to know. I’ve been curious since I found you in my rooms.”

I glanced down between our bodies at the mess of blankets and tangled clothing, unsure how to answer her. Then my lips opened, and the words poured out of me without a thought.

“The love of my life broke my heart twice. First, she left me. Then she died,” I told her. It wasn’t the whole truth, but it was the lie I’d lived for nearly two decades. Grief churned in my belly, so harsh and painful it stole my breath.

“Oh no.” Rynn wrapped her arms around my neck and brought my head to her chest, holding me there, her chin resting in my hair. “It’s no wonder, then.”

She smelled like roses and fresh well-water from the basin and like salty pleasure. My scent was all over her: in her hair, on her breath. I would have given up every penny in my vast fortune if I could have just lain there forever, my face cushioned between the soft mounds of her breasts, breathing in the aroma of her and me together, carried on a spring breeze.

The only bother was the gnawing sensation that this couldn’t be real comfort that she was offering me. I wanted so badly for it to be the true sort, the kind she’d once reserved only for me when life was cruel.

And at the same time, I wanted not to want those things. My heart was a shriveled wretch of a thing, and I hated how much it longed for her. The damn organ needed to see reason for once, to stop chasing after the person who’d destroyed it.

“Breakfast is ready downstairs, and it smelled divine,” she told me. “I’m going to go eat before I dress for the day. Are you coming?”

“I’ll follow you down shortly.” With great reluctance, I separated from her, fixing my trousers and rising from the bed.

In a moment of considerable weakness, I stepped over my shredded clothing while crossing to her valise. I picked it up and dug inside, removing the pair of slippers from the bottom where I’d hidden the two hefty stacks of cash I’d stolen from her safe. There were so many bills, they overflowed both shoes. Reclaiming the money, I tossed the bag beside her on the bed.

She gasped. “You villain. So that’s where you put it. You hid it in my things!”

“I figured you wouldn’t look there.”

“You figured right.” She pouted at me, playing with the blankets beneath her coyly. “I don’t suppose you’d reconsider—”

“Don’t push your luck,” I groused.

Head tipped back, she groaned at the ceiling. “I know the exact amount that was in my safe before you went and pilfered it,” she said, wagging a finger at me. “I had better be getting all of it back! Every last damn dollar, Finley!”

Before she left the room, she blew me a kiss with so much heat in it, it felt more like a threat than her words had.

I attended to my morning habits. When I returned, I took inventory. She’d destroyed so many items from my trunk that I was forced to wear a mismatched outfit: A casual cotton waistcoat, no cuffs or collar, and the more formal black trousers I already had on. At least she’d left me a few clean underthings—or I’d interrupted her before she could get at all of them. That seemed more likely, considering how much attention she’d paid to the drawers currently in tatters.

I reclaimed my folding knife from off the floorboards where it had fallen in the night, and I visited her valise to even the score. Some of her cash I tucked inside an inner pocket in the lapel of my waistcoat, keeping it close in case she needed motivation to behave on the way to Nightingale House. Chances were high she would.

I cut the bottom lining of her valise, just enough to store the remaining bills inside. Then I sewed it quickly with the patch kit from my trunk. I tended to the items she’d laid out for the day with my knife before I headed downstairs.

Breakfast was served family-style on a large table big enough to fit a regiment. Rynn snorted when she saw how I was dressed. I kept a placid expression throughout the meal, not allowing her the pleasure of my irritation. Seated across from her, I ate grits and dried apples quickly, eager to be back upstairs and finally on the road again.

When she was finished, I followed her to our room.

She headed straight for her clothing draped over the chair as I closed the door behind me. Her sharp intake of breath when she realized what I’d done filled me with smug satisfaction.

“What the devil did you do?” Rynn picked up her dress and gasped anew as it slipped through her fingers in ribbons. She lifted her corset next. I’d cut off the cups.

She hurled it at me. I side-stepped the ruined garment, letting it slap against the wall.

Glaring over her shoulder, she marched to the bed where I’d left her valise. Rynn reached inside and growled like an aggravated lioness, scooping out fistfuls of destroyed satin and taffeta. She threw them into the air in a huff, letting them scatter over the bed like confetti.

“I’m adding the cost of every garment to your bill when we’re through,” she snapped.

“I don’t think so,” I said, nudging my foot at an overcoat of mine she’d ruined. It had been made in France and cost double anything else in the room.

“What am I supposed to wear?” she demanded. “Have you gone mad? You didn’t leave anything for me!”

“Try to think of it this way,” I said evenly. “Your lovely things will make someone in need very nice, very expensive bandages now.”

“ You’re the one who’s going to need bandages,” she spat. Rounding on me, she pulled a blade from the top of her stocking and unfolded it with a deft flick of her wrist.

My eyes went wide. “How in the hottest hell did you get my knife again?” I was more impressed than concerned as she backed me against the door, shoving the blade under my chin. “Tell me how. I’ve got to know. I didn’t even sit next to you downstairs. Did you steal it under the table with your toes?”

“It’s not your knife,” she said through gritted teeth, pressing the blade to my throat. “Where’s my money?”

My cock twitched. The fact that she was arming herself against me shouldn’t have been arousing in the least. The flush of anger in her cheeks, the sparkle of rage in her eyes, the sting as she pushed the blade in and broke the skin, shouldn’t have been attractive either, and yet, there I was, neck bleeding and cock hard and growing harder, picturing how feral she’d gotten as she’d chased her climax beneath me the night before with that same gleam in her gaze.

“Your money is around here somewhere,” I said, glancing behind her at my trunk to throw her off the scent. When she turned her head to follow my eyes, I captured her knife hand and secured her against the frame of the door using my broader body. The struggle for the blade was short-lived. Rynn was not a frail thing by any means, but it wasn’t a fair fight. I had her in height, weight, muscle, and menace .

I drove the knife point so hard into the wood above her, even I would have a difficult time pulling it free again. She tried to punch me, but I’d pressed so close she couldn’t get a good swing in. The blow glanced off my shoulder.

The elbow she threw into my face was a problem, however. She knocked my teeth together so hard they clattered. Immediately a lopsided grin filled my cheeks. The sight of it made her furious.

Grunting from frustration and effort, she nearly slipped free. I grappled her over to the bed, toppling her flat on the mattress. It was a battle to get her onto her stomach. She kicked and scratched at me like a panicked puma.

“Don’t you dare!” she spat, trying to twist away from me.

I dared. I sat on her again, this time straddling her lower back, pinning her beneath me.

“Get off!” she bellowed, twisting like a fish out of water.

“You still have—” I caught myself. I’d been about to say she still had that same spitfire temper she’d had as a girl. The one that always made her think she was three times bigger than she actually was.

“Still have what?” she shouted, struggling to unseat me.

I chuckled. “Never mind.”

“Don’t laugh at me, you horrid serpent! You devil pirate! You wretch! You fiend!”

Worried she’d have a concerned inn owner pounding at our door soon if I didn’t quiet her, I grabbed up one of the tattered remnants of her dress and stuffed it into her mouth. Her muffled shouts continued around the gag until her face went beet red.

I pressed her cheek into the bedding, further immobilizing her. “Is this really necessary, Rynn? ”

She spit out the torn satin. “I hate you! I hate you so fucking much—”

“I hate you too, hellcat,” I said sweetly.

“Get. Off. Me!”

“You know how this works. When you’re still and calm, I’ll consider it,” I said.

She roared at that, a sound more animal than woman.

I covered her mouth with my palm, dampening the volume. “No, no. Don’t you dare bite me.”

It took a while, but eventually my hellcat tuckered herself out. Her squirming slowed. Her hot breath bathed my hand, and her skin, now covered in a sheen of sweat, returned to its usual light fawn shade.

Her breathing calmed to an even pace. She stopped trying to wriggle free. When I released her mouth, she sent a death glare at me that could turn milk, but she didn’t shout. I liked her face when it was glaring but decided against telling her that. No need to set her off.

“I’m going to let you up now,” I said. “Do you understand what will happen if you try to knife me again?”

“You’ll sit on me,” she muttered.

“That’s right.” I plucked a bill from the inner pocket of my waistcoat and showed it to her. It was a ten. “This is yours. The next time you’re uncooperative, I burn one of these. A toll for the inconvenience.” To ensure she knew I meant my word, I displayed my silver lighter and struck the flint.

Her eyes flashed, reflecting the small flame. “I hear you,” she ground out.

I smothered the fire with a snap and dropped the lighter back into my pocket. Touching my neck where it stung, my fingers came away bloody .

I forced Rynn to sit up, resting one hand low on her throat, smearing my blood on her skin. “You cut me.”

“That was the idea,” she rumbled.

“Stand up,” I said. With great reluctance, she obeyed. I needed reassurance that I could take her elsewhere and she’d behave, so I dragged her close. “Kiss it and make it feel better.”

If looks could kill, I’d be cold in the ground. Her eyes narrowed to dagger points. God above and furies below, she was a vision angry.

“I don’t want to,” she ground out.

“Do it anyway,” I said, giving her throat a gentle squeeze.

Nostrils flaring, Rynn rose up on her toes. “You will rue the day,” she hissed in my ear, rekindling my smile. Then her lips brushed my neck. I felt that tiny kiss in every cell of my body.

“Attagirl,” I purred. “Feels better already.”

She rolled her eyes at me.

Her hand in mine, I guided her over to the pitcher and basin and wet a fresh cloth.

She turned to face me when I beckoned her to, chin dropped in defeat. I didn’t like seeing her that way. I preferred her with fire in her eyes. Gathering her hair, I scooped it over her shoulder, then brushed the cold cloth along the back of her neck until the tension in her limbs loosened. I wiped the sweat from her nose and cheeks and wet it again to cool her heated skin.

She sagged against me, resting her brow on my chest. “I still hate you,” she rumbled.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, hellcat,” I said, hugging her to me.

* * *

After lunch I made myself comfortable in the garden with a view of the road so I could watch for the next passing stage. Rynn joined me, still in her dressing gown. I’d brought my trunk down with her valise inside and a bag I had missed that was apparently full of shawls. She wore a floral one tucked around her shoulders, trying to disguise her clothing that was only appropriate for a casual morning spent at home. The trunk was significantly lighter now with most of our things in scraps upstairs. I hadn’t needed any help carrying it.

Finally, the rattle of steel wheels and hooves broke the monotony of silence. The Concord that rumbled down the gravel road toward us was pulled by four massive Belgian horses, russet coats gleaming in the afternoon sunlight. But the driver wasn’t slowing at all. I leapt up and waved my arms, hailing him.

After the dust settled, Rynn accompanied me to greet the driver. The reinsman had dark umber skin and wore a fashionable derby atop his raven hair. He removed his hat politely for Rynn, introducing himself as Mr. Mazibuko. Rynn stood at my side holding her middle, looking uncharacteristically self-conscious. We made an odd pair, but the driver never commented on our appearance, his smile warm and inviting.

“You keep beautiful animals,” Rynn told him.

“Thank you, ma’am.” He beamed down at her.

“May I have a moment to get acquainted with them?” she asked.

“They would be very disappointed if you didn’t,” he said, climbing down from the driver’s seat to join her beside his horses. “Especially Thando there in the lead. Pet him first, or he’ll be jealous and misbehave.”

I waited impatiently as Rynn pet the horses and learned that Mr. Mazibuko had come to Pennsylvania after following his brother here some years ago to help him work on his ranch. The stagecoach was his, but the horses belonged to the brother.

It was more information than I ever wanted to know about a complete stranger, but that was Rynn. She smiled prettily and made her cute quips, and people opened their hearts and wagged their tongues. I don’t even think she always noticed when she turned on her magic and became a vortex of delight. She just was.

And I hated it.

Hated that I was as much a big sap for it as everyone else—probably the biggest. Hated how it made her such a gifted trickster when she wanted to be.

After all that, Mr. Mazibuko was willing to take us wherever we needed to go and for an overly fair price—a price Rynn’s kindness had likely lowered. I paid the man gladly. There was just one problem.

“That’s an awful lot of packages,” Rynn said as we gathered around the doors of the large stage.

It was big enough to easily fit nine people—ten if they were small—but the seats were stuffed with mail bags and parcels, luggage, and boxes. I was eager to have my nightingale home, however, so when the driver suggested we lay the bags down and sit on them, I immediately agreed to do so.