His moan was balm to her soul. “Yes. All of it. Do it, just do it!”
Any moment he would begin to babble. Cassandra wanted to hear it. Balancing on her knees, she stroked her other hand down her body, pausing to cup one breast, and tweak the nipple, caressing it for him. She slipped her hand slowly down her body, feeling the curve of her waist, the flare of her hips, and then traced a line over her thighs and deliberately touched the hard peak of flesh between her nether lips, pinching it between her finger and thumb. The resulting jolt of desire made her throw her head back, her curls tickling her shoulders. She gasped.
He was babbling. “Oh God! Oh God, thank you for this, thank you for allowing me to see this, to feel this. OhGodohGodohGod!”
Cassandra opened her eyes and dropped her chin, at the same time lowering her body to take him in.
“I can’t stand this.” Roughly he pushed her hand aside and took its place. Cassandra concentrated on his hard, needy cock in her body, his fingers working her to a climax she wouldn’t have believed possible before this night. She bucked, working him deeply inside her, rocking on him until she found the spot deep inside that had felt so good before. His voice, low and intense, hoarse with passion, added its own stimulation. “That’s it, sweet, feel it, hold it there, take me exactly how you want me! Oh Cassandra!”
“Oh yes,” she whispered, her own voice dark with passion. “Yes, oh yes!” It was her turn to babble, her sounds turning into incoherent gasps and groans, her body working his relentlessly, using him to drive herself towards the light at the end of the tunnel, a light she could see if she closed her eyes, brilliant and desirable. She felt him clasp her hip with his free hand, but not to direct her, just to steady her as the swirling, sparkling pulses conquering her body became one huge surge of release.
“Vernon!” Her voice rose to a scream. He continued to work her, driving her past sensitivity to oversensitivity to unbelievable heights of pure sensation.
He caught her when she fell on to him, held her steady while he drove three times, all it took to bring him to his own climax. When she turned her head, their lips met, and fused, never to part, never to be apart.
Chapter Three
“How old are you?”
Cassandra lay across her lover, his hand curled around her back, holding her close. They had separated, but only just, his slack, wet member lying just under her thigh, warm and protected, reminding them both of the incredible pleasure that had pulsated through them.
“How old am I now?”
“When you—when you―”
“Died?” He sounded amused, though Cassandra couldn’t imagine how he could feel like that. “I was just four and thirty. Old enough to be tired of fighting. I advised my superiors to talk to the Parliamentarians, try to come to terms, but they called me a traitor. I wanted to go back to my home, but they said one more battle and the King would be victorious. They were wrong, but I went home anyway.”
“Does it pain you to talk about this?” She pressed a gentle kiss to his shoulder, and he turned his head and captured her mouth in a sweet loving salute.
“Not when I talk to you. You may ask anything you wish, and I promise to answer the best I can.”
She pushed her unruly hair away from her face. It seemed to distract him from his story. He lifted his hand and threading his long fingers through her dark curls. “I like the way you wear your hair. The curls make you look a little like an enchanting elf, especially with those enchanting eyes.” He smiled into her face, totally relaxed, totally happy. “They’re the greenest eyes I’ve ever seen. I want to see them many times in the future.”
“I shall likely never change my hairstyle, then,” she said, “Knowing you are watching. Will you be watching?”
He nodded, his gaze never leaving hers. “I will be watching. Unless you tell me to leave. I will be there, I swear it.”
She caught her breath, wondering if they could communicate in some way. Any way. She was beginning to see how her life would be. Once a year she would come alive, and she would have to be content with that. Fifty days instead of fifty years.
It was more than she hoped for, but she couldn’t help feeling a pang of what if? What if they had been born at the same time? What if he could somehow join her—or she could join him?”
He took her hands in his. “We have what we’ve been given. We have to be content with that. I feel as you do. I want more. But we have this. Be happy.”
“I am. I never expected to be happy. I made my mistake when I insisted on marrying Edward, and I was prepared to cope with it. Now I have you.”
“Yes you do.” He caressed her cheek with his open hand.
“Tell me about the duel with your brother.”
His face hardened, then relaxed once more when he gazed at her. “I will tell you. You deserve to know, and there should be no secrets between us. But let me—”he lifted her across him, so she straddled his stomach. She sat up, and when she realized his intention slid down his body, allowing the wetness from their loving to anoint his lower stomach. He was erect once more. It was easy to lift up and let him in. When she sank down they both let out a sigh of satisfaction. They were meant to be together, they could only gain completion when they joined. She leaned back against his uplifted knees, so they could both look at the place of joining, where his pubic hair meshed with hers.
Neither moved, both savoring the sensation of joining, his body filling hers, just as it should be. It felt perfect.
He lifted his hands and she put her own in them, twining their fingers together. “Now you asked about the duel.”
“Yes.” She shouldn’t feel so comfortable like this, but she did.
“My brother is only a year younger than I am.” When he spoke, she felt his voice deep inside her, at the core of her being, throbbing and rumbling through her body and his. “We grew up close to each other, had the same tutors and were brought up to think the same things. But when the war came, he chose Parliament. I was heir to the title and lands, and Nathaniel had taken a seat in the Commons. He heard all the arguments. I was fired with patriotism, as I thought, and I went to war. We had a brother, a boy of seven, so my father allowed me to go to war, since the succession was safe.”
He sighed, and she felt that too. Now she understood why he wanted them to be joined when he told her the story that had ended his life. She was with him, as much as she ever could be without living through the experience with him. “I went willingly. It went on for nine years, but I didn’t last that long. I was in the war from Edge Hill to Naseby.” He paused, and Cassandra felt his body wilt a little inside hers. She didn’t move. This wouldn’t be the right time for stimulation. Their joining seemed more than sexual, more meaningful, more profound. They needed to be together like this while he told her.
“After Naseby, it was obvious Parliament would win the day. It was brutal, as were most of the battles. Countrymen should never fight each other. I went home, sick of war and ready to accept what Parliament would dole out. Nobody then expected that the war would result in regicide.” He swallowed. “At least I hold no guilt for that. Naseby was in June. The war had wrecked my family. Everything valuable had been sold. My wife worked in the fields like any farmer’s wife. For the first time I realized what I had done and I set myself to try to repair some of the damage.
“Nathaniel came back in October with a force of men. I didn’t see what he had planned. He never told me, and even if he had, I might not have agreed. I was attainted, they wanted to arrest me. Nathaniel planned to take the estate to prevent its confiscation by Parliament. He would have returned it to me if he could. But he failed to tell me. So I challenged him.”
He sighed, but she felt his erection harden within her. Men! Never happier than when they were fighting! “My swordsmanship had improved immeasurably, but so had his. He killed me, but I had wounded him badly.” He swallowed. “I was bound to the earth, I thought, until he died, because it was obvious the wounds were bad. Infec
tion set in and he was dead by Christmas. He joined me, and neither of us knew why we hadn’t moved on, but when I saw you, I knew. I just knew.”
She listened through the words, as he meant her to, into his agony. For a man to kill his brother, especially one he was so close to, must have been too much to bear. Had he atoned? She ventured to ask.
His smile was gently understanding. “Yes, we have reconciled. We still argue about the war, but whatever we did, both sides were in the right, and in the wrong, too. Who knows, society might have evolved this way on its own, and there would have been fewer deaths, fewer families ripped apart.” His smile broadened, his blue eyes gleaming. “But for now, my sweet love, this is what we have.”
Grasping her waist he pulled her down on to his body then swung her so he was on top. “This is ours now, ours to keep. It’s what I’ve been dreaming of since I first saw you.” He jerked back and then drove in hard and deep.
Cassandra felt the passion arc through her and lifted her hips to meet him, her legs lifting to cinch his hard body between her knees. Her gasp ended in a wail of completion. It didn’t seem possible, that he could bring her to climax so quickly. But he could, and he continued to prove to her why they should be together. Every time she opened her eyes he was there, staring into her face, tension firming the hard lines of his face into breathtaking beauty.
He drove into her with such force, her body slid up the bed, her head coming up to rest against the carved headboard. Neither of them noticed, so concentrated in the sensations coursing from him to her and back again.
Every time he surged back into her body, she cried out to him, the incredible warmth blossoming from her womb through every part of her. Even her fingertips tingled. He would never stop. She never wanted him to. Was it possible to die of satiation? She fervently wished it was so, that she would die at the point of climax and join him forever.
He was muttering to her now, gentle love words, rising in passion as his rhythmic pounding increased in power and frequency. “Oh sweet love, this is worth everything! You are so beautiful, so open to me!”
With one last, wordless cry, he plunged in deep, the deepest yet, and came.
His pulsing cock brought her to another climax and liquid heat flooded them both.
He fell forward and with his body still in hers, turned his head to take her mouth in one last kiss before withdrawing, and then lay there, just watching her. “I’ve never seen anything so beautiful in all my life,” he murmured. “Sleep, my sweet. I’ll watch over you.”
Until then she had drifted, slowly moving to sleep but at his words her eyelids snapped open. “No! We only have tonight, don’t we?”
“And next year. It will be dawn in less than two hours. I don’t want you to know when I go, my love. I want your last thoughts to be happy ones. I don’t say goodbye, not any more, and I won’t say it now. I will be here, never doubt it. Never doubt it.”
He smoothed his hand over her back in a series of soothing gestures. She allowed herself to drift again, and soothed by his words of love and his body, warmly embracing her, she fell asleep.
Chapter Four
Christmas already. Cassandra placed her hand on her gently rounded stomach and gazed out of the window of her cozy boudoir. It had all been worth it. Even if she’d been forced to acknowledge her lie, it would have been worth it.
How are you today?
She felt his presence before she heard his voice in her mind. Now it was comforting. Before she’d known the truth, it had been disturbing.
She leaned back against the cushions, savoring her presence. I’m very well.
The sickness?
All gone. It was never much. I am lucky.
Lucky? She didn’t imagine the hint of bitterness in his tone. She felt it too, sometimes, but she deliberately blocked it out. Once a year was better than nothing at all. How many perfect moments could most couples have? Perhaps her fifty nights would amount to more than many married couples had in a whole lifetime.
We have this.
She still heard his melancholy. I want to hold you, my love, I want to be with you.
You are with me.
She could feel the effort it took him to control his feelings, but she didn’t comment on them. It was his battle, and she couldn’t help. Yes, I am with you. Our connection is stronger, just as I wanted it to be. It will be Christmas in a few days, will it not?
It will.
It will be the first one I have blessed for many years.
His sentiments warmed her. It was too early for any movement, but her breasts were larger, her nipples darker, and her stomach, previously as flat as a washboard, had rounded a little. She was pregnant, and it wasn’t Edward’s child.
At first Vernon had been horrified and guilty, but she had reminded him of her lie to her husband, who already believed she was pregnant. She would bear the heir to the title. The child was actually from a senior branch of the family, but would be indisputably the heir. And he had given her new hope together with the new life burgeoning in her womb.
For once, she was looking forward to her husband coming home. He’d said he would be back for Christmas and everything was in readiness for him. She had no faith in his promises, so she would ensure her safety. And the safety of her child.
A movement in the still landscape outside her window attracted her attention and she looked out to see not one carriage, but several, trundling up the long, winding drive leading to the house. Her heart sank. He brought his friends. I should have expected it.
Emphasize your condition my love. Remind him you must be cared for.
Did she imagine the gentle caress over her stomach, or had he really touched her? She didn’t question the feeling, choosing to believe in the sensation. It was the way she had survived the last two months. Ten more to go before she could see him again, touch him for real. Until then she would last on her memories and her imagination. And his voice, now with her whenever she reached for him. That was a lasting blessing brought by their union. What had been intermittent before was now more reliable.
She got to her feet and laid her embroidery on a side table. A well-polished side table, she noted with satisfaction. She went downstairs, taking her time, careful as always and was in time to greet her husband when he crossed the threshold.
He threw his arms wide. “Ah, my dear!” She crossed the room and embraced him briefly, drawing away as soon as she possibly could, aware of the odor of stale wine and smoke Edward always seemed to carry with him. He had put on weight, and his eyes were watery as well as bloodshot.
She felt a pang of sadness when she thought of what he could have been. “Edward, I’m glad you got here before the poor weather. The sky is too overcast for comfort.”
He glanced behind him at the grey clouds, and the breeze, whipping up to a wind. “By God you’re right, Cassie. Let’s get in. Is there a room with a fire?”
“Several. Since you gave me permission to hire what servants I wished, I’ve been able to make the house more welcoming. Come in.”
She tried to inject warmth into her voice, and it seemed she was successful from Edward’s warm smile, but her own expression froze when she heard a familiar, menacing voice.
“Good afternoon, cousin.”
William, damn him, showed no sign of the dissipation he must be sharing with her husband. His eyes were clear, his hair glossy, brushed into the fashionable Brutus style. There didn’t seem to be an ounce of spare fat on him. It wasn’t fair, when he was her husband’s constant companion, leading him into all the gaming hells and whorehouses in London. She had been relieved to discover that Edward had abandoned some of the worst hells. Although she had no power of her own, she saw the bills, and while the ones from jewelers, clothiers and vintners still poured in, it seemed Edward no longer played as many games of chance as he used to.
“Good afternoon.” Cassandra didn’t articulate William’s name. She bowed to the other people entering behind her husband and his frie
nd, and silently counted. Ten. Not too bad, and if her eyes didn’t deceive her, not a prostitute among them. One or two of the ladies had considerably racy reputations, but that was better than the group Edward had invited to share Halloween with them. They were at least nominally respectable.
One couple were new to her, and Cassandra didn’t imagine the look of disdain she received from the female half. They were introduced to her as Mr. Steven Lockwood and his sister, Miss Deborah Lockwood. She smiled her welcome, and felt her husband by her side. “My dear, Miss Lockwood—and her brother, of course, are particular friends of mine. I hope to make them very welcome.”
Cassandra noticed a fine brooch adorning Miss Lockwood’s bosom and she remembered the description as though it was printed out in front of her, as it had been not so long ago.
A large sapphire surrounded by twelve fine diamonds. The whole enclosed in a setting of silver, backed with gold.
She even knew the price. That was because the bill had arrived the previous week. Not as much as some of Edward’s gaming losses, but steep enough. This woman wore the jewel that had cost her a chambermaid. She’d been forced to let the girl go, to economize yet again.
Well this week she would do her best to make Edward come to some realization of his responsibilities. But first, she would see his mistress off the premises.
When she tried to turn her back, she felt unseen resistance. She couldn’t move, forward or backward. Just as she began to panic, she felt his voice in her mind.
No!
Angrily she rapped the question back. Why not?
Look at William Heatherington!
She lifted her eyes and glanced to where William stood just behind the Lockwoods. She could only describe the expression on his face one way, gloating. Then she knew. In some way, she was being set up for a fall. William had planned something. The why eluded her for a moment, but she used the time to bow to the couple and move on to greet the next visitors.
Hosts to Ghosts Box Set Page 4
