Page 33 of Two Secrets to Surrender (Blackwood Legacy #2)

Chapter Thirty-Two

G igi found the emotion that filled the carriage foreboding, to say the least. As was the fact that Conrad had chosen to sit in the opposite corner, his mood dark and brooding. Even though the curtains were drawn, he was staring at the window. He hadn’t said a word since they left the ball, and she could bear the silence no longer.

“Do you want to talk about what happened?” she asked.

After a moment, he trained his gaze on her.

“Don’t do that again.”

His icy manner chilled her. At the same time, his churlishness rankled. Reminding herself of the distressing ordeal he’d gone through, she managed to stay calm.

“A lot happened tonight,” she said quietly. “What are you referring to?”

“Do not contradict me. Do not put words in my mouth. Above all,” he said through clenched teeth, “do not ever take their side over mine.”

His dictatorial tone challenged her patience, which she held onto by sheer force of will.

“The only side I am on is yours,” she said. “I was trying to support you through an understandably difficult moment?—”

“It was not difficult,” he said coldly. “I had everything in hand before you interfered.”

“That is unfair.” His accusation stung. “While your brother deserves your animosity, his wife and children do not. They are blameless, victims as you are?—”

“Do not compare them to me.” His snarl ripped through the cabin. “Katerina, Anne, and the rest of Robert’s bloodline are nothing like me. They were not beaten within an inch of their lives by him. They were not separated from the only person who cared about them, then locked away for nearly a decade of unspeakable abuse. They do not know the first thing about suffering and pain. They’ve lived in the lap of luxury, and the only price was to pledge their allegiance to a monster.”

While Gigi knew that Conrad could be ruthless in business, she hadn’t until this moment realized he could be heartless in relationships. Certainly, he’d discussed his past lovers with a degree of indifference, but she’d believed those relationships had been transactional and nothing more. She’d also believed him when he said he felt differently about her . Love, she’d told herself, would make all the difference.

Unwelcome thoughts crept into her head.

How well do I know him? After all, he has kept secrets from me…

Her love and knowledge of his past tempered her doubts. Robert Beaumont was a vile man who’d inflicted unimaginable suffering on Conrad. It was only human for Conrad to want justice. Although he had kept secrets from her, he had eventually trusted her with facts that were not the easiest to share. Over time, he was opening up to her.

“Robert’s wife and daughters had no part in what he did to you,” she said gently. “They likely didn’t even know of your existence.”

“My mama was equally blameless,” he shot back. “As was I. That didn’t stop Robert. Now, he will reap what he sowed. The people closest to him will suffer for what he did. He is the one causing them pain, not me.”

“While Robert is responsible, you would be making the choice to hurt innocent people, too. You would be acting like him?—”

In the next instant, Conrad was leaning over her. His hands planted on the cabin walls, he caged her. His savage expression reminded her of the satyr’s. Her heart thumped…not entirely because of anxiety. Her husband’s nearness, his intensity, stirred a primal response.

“Do not compare me with that bastard,” he said in a low, dangerous tone.

“I know you are not like Robert.” She wetted her lips. “Nonetheless, his wife and daughters…they are your family.”

Conrad’s gaze was fixed on her mouth. The tension between them sizzled, even as it took a different form.

“ You are my family, Gigi,” he said. “Your loyalty, your love—all of you belongs to me .”

“That isn’t the point?—”

“I think it is. I think you need to be made aware of what those vows you gave me mean. I think you need to be shown who you belong to.”

When he shoved himself from the wall, she didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed. Then his hands went to his waistband. Casually, he unfastened his trousers. Hard and swollen, his cock jutted from the fine wool like an angry beast. The stiff truncheon swayed when the carriage went over a bump, and he grabbed the strap to steady himself. She knew this was no way to end an argument; they ought to sort out their problems. When he began to pump his fist along his impressive length, however, she grew mortifyingly wet.

“What do you think you are doing?” The breathiness of her voice betrayed her. “We have matters to discuss.”

“I’m done discussing. I have a better use for that lovely mouth of yours.”

He brought his cock within an inch of her lips. The dome was flared and dripping. She smelled his unique musk, and her mouth pooled.

She looked up at his glinting gaze. “How does this solve anything?”

“It will make me feel better,” he said in gravelly tones. “As my wife, don’t you want to see to my needs?”

She could have denied him, and maybe she ought to. Yet his domineering attitude, while annoying, was also arousing, stirring an instinctual desire to please. And she didn’t doubt that he needed soothing. While his words spoke of lust, the emotions radiating from him spoke of other needs as well.

A need to bind her to him with passion. To stake his claim on her loyalty and heart.

While she could have told him that those things were fait accompli , she saw in his shadowed expression that he wasn’t in a place readily reached by words. He wanted action…of the most carnal kind. Her blood thrummed with the recognition that she wanted it too.

“We are talking after,” she told him.

“After.” Triumph sharpened his features. “Now open wide for me, love.”

Trembling, she acquiesced to the lewd command, and a heartbeat later, his cock was a heated weight upon her tongue. His salty essence saturated her senses even before he pushed in. Given their earlier practice, she expected the inexplicably exciting sensation of having her mouth filled, yet there was a difference this time. Before, Conrad had let her explore as she wished.

Now he was setting the pace.

He thrust in, going deeper than he ever had. When she tried to close her hand around the base of his shaft, he prevented her from doing so. To her surprise, he placed her gloved palms, one by one, onto his thighs.

“Keep them there,” he ordered. “Let me use your lovely mouth as I wish.”

The word “use” set off a wicked tingle. In her mind’s eye, she saw Pearl kneeling before Prick with her hands just so while he took his pleasure. While all the drawings had been provocative, Gigi had found this one particularly arresting. For the satyr had sheathed himself so completely that the nymph’s lips had kissed his stones. With his fingers curled in her tresses, his eyes rolled back in bliss, he’d looked completely and utterly undone. In truth, he had been the one brought to his knees.

Could I do that to Conrad? Unravel his self-control? In opening myself to him, am I opening him up to me?

The notion intrigued and aroused, but Gigi didn’t have time for contemplation. Her hands curled around his sinewy thighs as he drove deeper. Her lips stretching to accommodate his girth, she had to breathe through her nose, so fully did he occupy her.

“Such a good little wife,” he growled. “Letting me swive your mouth. But you like it, don’t you? Beneath that pretty gown, is your pussy full of cream?”

Oh my stars.

Squeezing her legs together, she felt the slickness smearing her thighs. Her nipples were throbbing points. She moaned, the sound muffled by the shaft stretching her lips.

“That is a sweet sound, duchess. Let me feel you moan around my cock.”

She couldn’t disobey him if she tried. She was too aroused, too lost in the filthy thrill of what they were doing. Conrad slid a hand in her hair, scattering pins. His grip was rough, just tight enough to elicit an arousing discomfort. Yet it was the control this gave him that stirred her the most. The way he held her head in place so that he could take her as he wished.

He drove his hips, and she felt a thrill of panic as he went farther than he had before. So far that he nearly cut off her air. Through eyelashes dewy with effort, she saw that she hadn’t even taken all of him.

“Relax, love. I will take care of you. Give yourself to me.”

His tender words, uttered while he plunged his cock even deeper, caused her heart and her pussy to flutter. She had joined her life with this man, for better or worse… Ad Finem Fidelis . Even if she disagreed with his path to revenge, she trusted him to make the right decision. Once he was calmer—once the wounds ripped open by the meeting with Robert had healed—he would listen to reason. Until then, she would soothe the beast, and in doing so, surrender to her own passions.

The instant she let go, tension left her. She relaxed into the hand cradling her skull, the relentless incursion of his cock. His taste and touch felt essential, and she wanted to be what he needed: a vessel for his pleasure, a companion for his loneliness, a mate for his soul. She craved the intensity of his attentions, the way his gaze was riveted to her face as he pushed deep inside.

“Just so, love.” Pleasure roughened his voice. “Relax your throat and take all of me.”

Somehow she was doing it. Controlling her natural reflexes and letting him in. She drew a breath through her nose as he breached her throat. He withdrew then plunged, and she felt the shocking sensation: the press of his stones against her lips.

“Christ, I’m a lucky bastard. I married the best little cocksucker.”

His rude praise made her whimper, eager to earn more. Wetness coated her chin as he buried his cock again and again, grunting with bliss. His gaze remained locked on hers, smoldering with a heady mix of love, lust, and pride.

“Mine,” he said.

He lunged his hips, the tip of his cock nudging muscles that clenched around him. Groaning, he drew out while she sputtered, but then he slid back in, pairing his thrusts with panted words.

“You’re not theirs. You’re mine. Say it, Gigi.”

He yanked out, the wide dome of his cock hovering by her mouth, glossy from her kiss.

Knowing what he wanted, she gave it to him. “I’m yours.”

“My nymph.” He shoved inside, claiming her in action and in words. “My wife and my mate. You’ll never leave me.”

“I won’t leave,” she gasped when he gave her the chance. “Trust me, Conrad.”

His eyes blazed with emotion. “I do. More than anyone. I love you .”

“I love you,” she whispered back.

Her words unleashed an animalistic frenzy. He mated her mouth, cramming himself inside. She felt his possession everywhere, her pussy clenching at his filling thrusts. He was close, she could tell, his girth stretching her to her limits, his stones slapping against her lips.

“I want to spend inside,” he growled.

The notion flashed heat across her senses. He’d stilled, his body rigid with the effort to hold himself in check. He was waiting for permission, she realized. When she nodded, his nostrils flared, and with no hesitation, he took what she offered. He pounded into her mouth, his hand a vise in her hair, his eyes glowing with dark adoration.

“I am going to come so hard,” he rasped. “Every drop is for you, Gigi.”

Suddenly, he held, grinding against her lips. He came with a savage shout. His pleasure flooded her in hot, salty bursts, and mindless with need, she swallowed what she could. The rest spilled over her lips and down her chin.

His chest heaving, he collapsed onto the bench, gathering her onto his lap. He kissed her slowly, thoroughly, not seeming to mind that she tasted of him. In fact, he seemed to like it, and the thought made her squirm with arousal against his hard thighs.

“Thank you, my love.” While her husband exuded satisfaction, the hunger in his eyes was far from satiated. “Now it’s your turn.”