“Oh yes!” Her permission a benediction, he lifted his hand and pulled the drawstring of her chemise. It parted with a soft whisper of fabric, and they watched together as the fabric slid away from her body.
His long sigh of desire told her all she needed to know. It should have been like this with Edward; she had hoped so much, and at first he had tried, but it had been too much. She had come to her senses two weeks after her wedding, when she’d caught him drunk, servicing her chambermaid.
“Are you honest and true?” she asked, hardly realizing she spoke aloud.
“Yes, my sweet. I have always been so. You know I had a wife?”
“Yes.”
His hand caressed her waist, warm and real, a gentle touch of affection. “We were friends. It was an arranged marriage, but we made something of it. That we failed to make it better was my fault, not hers. But I was never unfaithful to her, and I will never be so to you.” He looked up at her face and smiled. “I’m speaking foolishly. I’m hardly going to have the opportunity, am I?”
“Are you real?”
“Yes, for tonight, I’m real. And I’m yours. Will you let me in?”
Without taking her gaze from his, she nodded.
Audibly drawing in his breath, Vernon shucked off his coat. Cassandra made herself busy at his waistcoat, undoing the long line of buttons, and then her hands were on his chest, only his shirt between them now.
That was soon disposed of. Vernon’s gaze drifted down to her breasts, and he looked his fill, with her joyful permission. As he watched, she felt her nipples tighten, furl into tight points.
That had never happened to her before. “Have you some magic?”
“No magic. Tonight, I’m just a man. Let me prove it.”
He lifted his hands to her shoulders and pressed her gently back into the softness of her feather mattress.
His body was long, hard and when he moved she felt powerful muscles bunch under his skin. Everything—no, no more comparisons, no more. Tonight was just the two of them. Vernon and Cassandra, no future, no past.
Nothing but this moment.
His heavy wings of hair swung forward to shroud them in soft, silken warmth. She chuckled. “You Cavaliers and your long hair!”
“A badge,” he murmured. “Once a fashion, then a badge. One day, I might get to cut it.”
“Do you want to?”
“Yes!” He said the word with such fervor, Cassandra felt a shock of dismay. He stroked the side of her face, his touch gentle. “It’s a symbol of what went wrong with my life. It was foolishness, taking up a course that would destroy what we had built here. I was taken with too many stories, too many lies and a mistaken sense of justice.”
“You sound like a Roundhead!”
He chuckled, low in his throat, his sudden flash of anger gone. “I wouldn’t go that far.”
Seemingly losing interest, he caressed her lips with his, gently warming them, allowing his tongue to flick briefly against hers, but by the time she had opened for him, he had drawn back. “I could stay here all night with you, just looking, just touching. I have imagined this so many times!”
“Vernon, why?”
“I wanted to see you, and I am allowed this boon. I would not have come to you before. You tried so hard to make your sot of a husband into something worthy of you; I could not interfere with that. But I can’t see you suffer any longer.” He pushed gently against her, his cock an impressive rod against her thigh. It burned her skin, made her eager for him.
“No more talking,” she gasped. She squirmed under him until his weight fell between her legs, and deliberately, holding his gaze, she pushed up against the mattress.
He smiled. “No more talking.” He pressed his lips to hers once more, this time opening his mouth and thrusting his tongue into her. At the same time, he pushed below, and she felt a groan reverberate in her mouth when he realized just how much she wanted him. Lifting a little, he slid his free hand between them and she felt him fumble, then position himself.
He pressed deep, not stopping, not lifting his mouth from hers, gradually parting her thickened, wet, flesh until he was completely sheathed inside her. His body stilled inside hers, he finished the kiss, lifting his lips slowly away. His eyes slumberous with passion, he gazed into hers. “Oh my love,” he breathed.
Her instinctive action was to lift her bottom and press against him, opening her legs wide until she felt her soft, sensitive flesh encounter the wiry hair at the base of his cock. She moaned, allowing the sensation to course through her. “I want you to fill me up. Never leave me, let me love you always.”
“If I can love you back.” He rose up, and thrust. With a smooth motion that spoke volumes about his physical strength, he pushed up on his hands, rising above her and changing the angle of his entry so she gasped in shock. Staring at her, he thrust again. She felt his body, deep inside hers, and she shattered.
Her scream would no doubt go unheard downstairs, where whores and society women squealed in delighted mock-horror and men roared after them. She didn’t care. Cassandra was past caring, knowing she would gladly die for this night. There was nothing left to her but the man she was made for, his body in hers, his dark blue eyes searing passion into her soul. He never looked away, watched nothing but her, her response, her need. She felt his gaze like a caress, stroking her sensitized skin, making love to her in every possible way.
As though he knew her thoughts, he spoke to her. “I love you; I will never leave you, not from this day to the end of time. Believe it. Always believe it.”
Another surge hit her with the intensity of a lightening bolt. She arched up, gasping his name, and he pushed against her, bringing them impossibly close, stroking her so deeply, in a place no one had ever reached before. She hadn’t been aware it existed before this moment, but the moment his flesh encountered that unfathomable part of her, she exploded, her legs lifting to hook around his waist, pulling him near, keeping him there. So close, so wonderfully close.
This time, he joined her in her release. The pressure of her heels on the small of his back seemed to trigger his explosion. She rejoiced when she felt the gush of heat, then the wetness seeping between her thighs as he spilled over, flooding her with life and need, wetness she knew was more than just her desire for him.
He stilled above her, powerful muscles taut and bulging with the strain of want, then he groaned once, loudly and deeply, a sound wrenched from the depths of his chest, reverberating through her body and his.
He collapsed, narrowly avoiding crushing her even deeper into the soft feather mattress.
They lay for long moments, recovering their breath, bodies still joined. When he turned his head and opened his eyes, she was already watching him, reveling in the lean planes of his cheek and jaw, beautiful against the snowy pillows. His smile this time was of a smug, entirely satisfied man. She felt she could touch his desire, so palpably did it pulse between them.
“Cassandra.” He lifted his hand to cup her cheek and bring her close for a gentle kiss of thanksgiving, “It was worth it for this, every agonizing moment of the wait.”
“I feel the same,” she whispered back. “My coming here was worthwhile, after all.”
Her words seem to jerk him back to reality. He lifted his head and his eyes widened. “No. Not for you. No longer will I stand by and allow him to abuse you. I will find a way to stop him, I promise. I can’t bear it, nor should you have to.”
“It doesn’t matter. Not now.”
“It does!” His voice sharpened, increased in volume. When she winced, he sighed. “I’m sorry. But I will find a way. You are mine now, Cassandra Rustead.”
“Yes,” she agreed, too happy to protest. “All yours.”
He slid to one side of her, his body reluctantly leaving hers, and took her into his arms, drawing her close. She rested her head on his shoulder, lifting her hand to caress his chest. “Cassandra, I can only come to you like this once a year. You know that?”
She wished he hadn’t said that. She wanted a night, one night of perfection, a night she intended to commit to memory. She would not forget a single moment, not one breath of it.
“I will come, if you want me. If you do not, I will know. One day you will want to move on, and that is how it should be.” He sounded determined, as though he’d already thought things through.
She hadn’t had that luxury, but she was sure. “No!” There was no one else for her now. “When I saw you, I knew. I knew why I’d married Edward, defied my parents, ignored what he is. It was because I saw you in him.”
“Cassandra, he is not of my get. I never had any children. None that I knew of,”
“I thought you said you were faithful to your wife?”
He laughed softly. “I was. Completely, but I was a healthy young man before I married. There were a few years before the war when I was actually carefree for a while. The world seemed rosy then. My parents indulged me, even more after my brother defected to the Parliamentary side. My father disowned him, said he was no son of his and turned all his attention to me.”
Cassandra searched her mind, but couldn’t remember what had happened to Vernon’s father.
“My father died before the troubles erupted into war. He took a fever.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” He stroked her hair back from her face. “It was better that he didn’t know what a mess we made of things, Nathaniel and I.” Nathaniel had been—was—Vernon’s younger brother. “Our youngest brother, my father’s third son, made a much better success of his life once he grew up. Nathaniel safeguarded the estate for him, but Edwin did all the work of restoration and rebuilding. He worked at the things that mattered. He built a family, worked to restore the land, all the things we had forgotten in our foolish struggles.”
She leaned forward to bring their lips together and they shared a moment of perfect peace and tranquility, sated, warmly snuggled up, their legs entwined, their arms about each other.
This was how it should have been. This was how it would be from now on.
She opened her eyes, unwilling to lose a moment of seeing him for real, feeling him with her.
“Tell me why you married your husband,” he suggested. “I only knew you when you walked across the threshold of this place. I couldn’t understand why you married him.”
It was all too clear to her now. “I saw Edward and I wanted him. But he was moderately presentable then, and his family had made an effort to show him to me in his best light. My parents knew he drank heavily, but many young men do, and they get over it. My father made enquiries, but it seemed he was making a real effort to reform, and they hadn’t the heart to disappoint me when I pleaded with them to let me marry him. That’s why I never went back to them when they were proved right. They thought I was happy, and they went abroad soon after.”
“They don’t live here?”
“No. Papa is in the diplomatic service. He’s in Vienna, with the other diplomats at the Congress. I’ve been worried that he would hear how Edward is treating me and come for me, and I would have to lie to him, but so far Edward is just one of many drunken young men in society, and he hasn’t created any scandals out of the ordinary.”
“Perhaps it would be as well if he did. Perhaps it would be better for you to return to your father.” Vernon drew her close and feathered kisses on her brow. “Couldn’t you go back to him?”
“Edward would cause trouble. He still has enough money and enough influence to make things very difficult for Papa. I’ve ruined my own life. No reason to ruin anyone else’s. I still have unmarried sisters, you know, and hopefully they will have better luck than I did. If I left Edward, the scandal might be too much for them. Perhaps, when my sisters have all found husbands, I might be able to do something. I thought of getting a separation. If Edward continues in this way, it will be perfectly understood by respectable society by then. But I can’t leave this house now. I can’t leave you.”
He sighed, his breath warm against her skin. “I will not let him hurt you any more. I swear it, my love. He will not touch you in anger again. He has struck you, hasn’t he?”
“Only when he doesn’t know what he’s doing. He’s a fool, not a bully.”
The possibility that Edward would touch her in lust remained unspoken between them. At present, there was no possibility, but there might be, one day. Edward’s impotence was intermittent, and he had managed a few times before, although his efforts had lacked any finesse or consideration. But it was his right, as long as he remained her husband.
She didn’t ask Vernon how he would achieve this feat. In fact, she doubted he could, but she remained silent, knowing it made him happy to think it. “How can this be possible? How can I fall in love with you without having met you?”
“That you saw something in your husband that you recognized? That we should come together?” He smiled, his lips curving against her skin. “I don’t know. If I ask, I’m afraid it will go away. I think you knew that I knew. I felt it when you were born, but I didn’t recognize the feeling for what it was. I just knew something wonderful had happened, and perhaps my time had come.”
“Your time for what?”
He lifted himself up on one elbow, shoving his thick, dark hair back with one strong hand. “My time to change. Love, I don’t know why I’m here, why my brother is here, even why that monk is here, but I think we’re here for a reason. And my reason is you. Perhaps I was kept here to care for you. I think so. I know so. I will be here for you, always, to the day you—”
“Die?” The idea wasn’t frightening to her any more. Now she had met him, her love, her partner, she could almost welcome it. When she looked into his eyes, she knew he’d caught her fleeting thought.
He bit his lip, frowning in anxiety. “Do not end your life in the hopes of joining me.” His voice gained in volume, rough with concern. “You hear me?”
“I—would it not be right?”
“No. It would not. We may not be allowed any time together and we can only make love when we’re like this, in a corporeal state. It would be to force something we are not meant to force. And it is a sin. The only thing we can be sure of is that I will come to you every year on this date, I will watch over you for every minute in between and that I love you.”
“I love you too.” Staring up at him she knew it was true, knew with all the certainty she was capable of. It would be hard, but if they had this night every year, even that was far more than she’d hoped for that morning, far more than she’d expected. He had given her something to live for, this dead man. “Will you love me when the gray hairs come, when I put on weight, when my limbs become feeble?”
“Yes.” He said the word before she had stopped speaking. “I am sure of it. And I will wait for you. Never doubt that.”
“I won’t.” And she wouldn’t. Lifting her hand, she pushed gently on his shoulder until he lay down once more. It was her turn to make love to him.
Cassandra had never done this before, never initiated the act of love, but necessity made her bold. She wanted him too much for passivity, too much to accept his loving and not give in return. She slid her hand over his chest, lingering at his nipple. He lay back and watched her, his hands linked loosely around her waist. She felt the beginning of his erection, gentle warmth turning to burning heat, his body lengthening and readying itself for her. His eyes gleamed blue fire. “Do whatever you want. You cannot displease me. It is an impossibility.” He smoothed his hands over her back, gently urging her on.
Cassandra bent her head to his chest and took his nipple in her mouth. It tasted like heaven, his skin slightly salty from his previous exertions, his nipple puckering against her tongue in a sweet parody of her own reaction. When she sucked, she felt her own nipples tighten where they pressed against his chest. She felt his body tighten with need, but he lay passively beneath her, allowing her to do whatever she would. Growing bolder, she ki
ssed across his chest, gave his other nipple the same wet welcome and felt heat blossom between her legs.
She had never grown this wet for Edward. Was that why he’d sometimes hurt her? She guessed so, but at the moment she couldn’t care less. This was the man she’d mistaken Edward for, and the reason for her obsession with her husband. She had seen the brief shadow of her love for Vernon in Edward, and that had been enough. This couldn’t be wrong. Separated only by time, time that had joined in a blessed circle for this one night, allowing him to come to her at last.
Pausing at his navel, she teased him with her tongue, darting it in and out, caressing in circle around the neat dimple, receiving a hoarsely grated, “Sweeting!” for her trouble.
Under his navel, a line of dark hair led down and spread, forming a nest of tight curls around the base of his now fully aroused shaft. Strong and dark with want; she took a moment to admire it, before cupping her hand around his balls and tracing the unbelievably soft skin around the tip, exploring him, learning him. He twitched beneath her and she opened her mouth wide to take him in.
His cry startled her, but she didn’t stop. One long suck and a swirl of her tongue seemed to please him, especially when combined with a gentle massage. She held him in her thrall, her hand on him, her mouth caressing him. She felt his hands in her hair, digging deep, his fingers curving against her skull. “Oh Cassandra, oh sweetheart, that feels so go-ooood.” The last word was long and drawn out, ending on a groan, rising to a growl as his grip tightened, and he dragged her back up the bed. This kind of violence she would take as much of as he wanted to dole out. This was passion.
Blue eyes burned into her, his mouth lay open, panting with need, but still he held back, still he gave her control of what they did. Cassandra felt strength pulsing through her veins, power to control, to direct, and she loved it.
She came up on her knees, hovering above him, his cock straining up, but he watched her, his full bottom lip caught between his teeth, his eyes still burning want and need into hers. She put her fingers between her legs and spread herself apart. “Is this what you want?”
Hosts to Ghosts Box Set Page 3
