Claimed By Chaos

by Abigail Graves

  “I thought you didn't go about because you just didn't enjoy being in society, I had no idea that you were ostracized.” Giselle looked at Alastair. He shrugged.

  “As Mirabelle said, it was my own doing. I'm incapable of pretending to like people I find stupid and shallow and I have a terrible habit of pointing out what makes them stupid and shallow. Are you having more misgivings about pretending to be engaged to me in light of my lack of popularity? You'll most likely have to explain why you would settle for me.” Gilles was about to protest Alastair's prediction but Giselle spoke up first.

  “I hope someone does ask me why I would ‘settle’ for you. I'd be more than happy to explain to them why any woman would be stupid to refuse you, Alastair.” She looked ready to go into battle. Gilles saw tears shine in Mirabelle's eyes. Alastair cleared his throat.

  “I believe that you intend to refuse me, Giselle.” He said softly. Her mouth fell open and she began to splutter. Gilles looked at Lucien and Mirabelle and the three of them exploded in laughter. Once it had passed, Giselle scowled at Gilles before she turned to Alastair.

  “As you won't truly be courting me, I won't truly be refusing you.” She looked to Mirabelle. “I would be honored to attend your ball and I will make sure that the entire ton knows that I consider myself blessed to be nearly, officially engaged to your brother.” Giselle announced. Mirabelle clapped and smiled beatifically.

  “Wonderful! As I was saying, we’ll follow the two of you to Town and a ball will be held at Clerendon House. We won't make any announcements but it will be implied.” Mirabelle looked to Giselle who nodded in agreement. Alastair stood up and began pacing.

  “I'll start going about with Giselle as soon as we return. It won't take more than a day, I think, for the ton to realize my intentions. Invitations will probably be waist deep at Spencer Place by then. I hope to have names for us to investigate by the time we get back. This morning, I sent inquiries into the War Office in regard to any lords that provided ships and crews, specifically any that lost a ship. I have someone looking into the seal and I also sent word to an investigator that is brilliant with financial documents and records. Between those three lines of inquiry, I think we have a good chance of getting results quickly.” He looked around and everyone signaled their agreement. “Then all that's left to do right now is to wait to see what comes back and give the ton time to hopefully wear itself out before we go back.”

  “Which it won't but you might as well enjoy a little peace before all hell breaks loose.” Mirabelle said. Giselle cringed. Alastair waved it off.

  “Unless anyone else has something to add, I'm going for a walk.” He didn't wait for a reply as he pulled the French doors open and stepped out. Giselle stared in surprise.

  “Does he always do that?” She asked as she looked around. Lucien shook his head.

  “No. He doesn't usually announce that he's leaving, he just gets up and walks out.” Mirabelle nodded in agreement and smiled at Giselle.

  “He gets like that when things become too emotional for him.” She said softly as her eyes searched Giselle's. She nodded and looked toward the doors.

  Chapter 13

  Shortly after Alastair left, everyone parted. Mirabelle stated that she and Lucien were in need of rest before dressing for dinner. Giselle could see that Mirabelle and Lucien were eager to be alone. It was clear that they were deeply in love and physically infatuated with each other. Despite being happy for the two of them, she couldn't help but envy what they had together. As Giselle slipped into the steaming hot, perfumed water of her bath, she imagined herself adored and desired the way Mirabelle was. While she had no desire to marry, part of her wished she hadn't been burdened with her family’s legacy and wealth, that she could have lived a life without scrutiny and expectation.

  Giselle had fought back in every way she could. Running away and vanishing had been a tremendous start. If it became known that she had been a spy, she would be considered unacceptable, it would be scandalous. Becoming an assassin was Giselle's coup de grâce against the life she was expected to live. She would never admit it out loud but the first time she had killed was one of the most liberating moments of her life. She had saved Gilles’ life but in a way, she felt like she had saved her own as well. As soon as the life left the man’s body, Giselle knew that she was officially bad ton. Her life was her own, she could do or be anything she wanted.

  If there was anything that might make Giselle regret how thoroughly she had torched her reputation, it was Alastair. The idea of him courting her, of them pretending to be engaged had her imagining what their life might be like if she were the sort of woman he could marry. He made her insides flutter and her skin tingle. It was a novel experience for someone as jaded as she was. She had used seduction as a weapon for so long but she had never been seduced herself. Alastair could seduce her with a look, her body reacted as soon as he entered the room.

  Giselle smiled wickedly as she stood and stepped out of the tub. Thanks to Mirabelle's plan, the two of them would be spending a lot of time together. From all that she learned of Alastair, the two of them would work very well as a team. She also learned that while the two of them were not well suited for marriage, they were very well suited for an affair.

  Determined to find joy wherever she could, Giselle decided she wouldn't pass up the opportunity fate had handed her. She wanted Alastair and would share as much pleasure as she could with him, for as long as possible. She wouldn't look back and regret not making the most of the powerful attraction they shared.

  Her mind made up, Giselle examined the deep blue satin she'd chose for the evening. The décolletage was a bit too low for going about in public and the slit up the side revealed almost too much leg to be respectable. She hadn't been sure when she would be able to wear it, but she had been unable to resist buying it when she was shopping for her return while in Paris.

  It was the perfect gown for the evening she had in mind, she decided as she slid her hands down her hips after the maid had finished with the buttons. Once her hair was swept into a loose chignon, Giselle left her room. She had quite a bit of time before she was expected downstairs.

  Chapter 14

  Alastair splashed water on his face and sensed that he wasn't alone as he reached for the towel. He looked into the mirror and saw Giselle behind him, leaning against a bed post. Le Fantôme Noir. It was easy to see how she came by the name. He immediately reached for the buttons of his shirt and started fastening them.

  “Don't you have a valet?” She asked as she sat on the bed and then stretched across it. Alastair ignored the tightening of his body.

  “I do. He prepares my clothing, I prefer to groom and dress myself.” He reached for the cravat and tried to ignore the urge to stare at Giselle’s cleavage. She was practically spilling out of her gown. He tried not to react when her leg slid and the fabric parted revealing half of her thigh.

  “Why?” She asked as she rested on her elbows.

  Alastair's shrug was a lie. He knew very well why he bathed and dressed in privacy. It suddenly occurred to him that while he had previously been able to bed women without removing his clothes and hadn't revealed his body to his valet, he wouldn't be able to go a lifetime without being seen by Giselle if they married. It would be wrong to force her to spend the rest of her life with a man that repulsed or scared her.

  “There's something I need to show you before things go any further between us.” His voice felt thick and was low. Alastair set the cravat aside and unbuttoned his shirt at the collar and then the sleeves as he stepped into the center of the room, into the light.

  “Were you injured? Are you disfigured?” Giselle’s voice was full of concern. He grinned and shook his head.

  “I wasn't injured but some might consider me disfigured.” Alastair felt his hands tremble slightly as he tugged his shirt from his waistband. He took a deep breath, ignoring the nervousness that welled within him and said a silent prayer as he pulled his shirt over his
head. Giselle gasped and he shut his eyes as he turned his face away from her. Alastair was afraid to look at her. If she was horrified, it was over.

  He jumped when her fingers brushed against the skin of his shoulder. He opened his eyes and looked at the mirror. Giselle was behind him, staring at his back. In the reflection, she seemed so small and delicate against the large, black dragons that clawed and snarled up one side of his back. Her hand hovered just above his skin.

  “Does it hurt?” Giselle whispered as she found his eyes in the mirror. Alastair shook his head.

  “I can't feel the tattoos. Being touched can be… overwhelming for me, especially if my skin is bare. Sometimes, it's very uncomfortable. I wasn't expecting you to touch me.” His voice was hoarse. Giselle's brows pulled together and she frowned.

  “Did I make you uncomfortable? Do you not want me to touch you?” She sounded disappointed. Alastair was having a hard time comprehending that she wanted to touch him after he had been so worried that Giselle would flee at the sight of him just moments before.

  “I want you to touch me.” He whispered. He never imagined he'd say those words. In the past, he endured the affectionate contact his family insisted upon and avoided physical contact with everyone else. Now, he ached for Giselle's touch. She set her fingertips to his shoulder and slid them down, tracing the dragon that wrapped around his arm. Alastair hissed as his nerves shrieked. His ears rang for a moment and light flashed behind his eye lids. “Slowly, please.” He gasped. She nodded as she came around to stand in front of him.

  Giselle’s fingers fell upon the skin just below his collar bone like feathers. She kept her strokes slow and without pressure as she followed the dragons down his chest. Alastair was mesmerized as he watched her hands and eyes sweeping over his skin. He clenched his jaw as need rippled through him. Giselle was slowly increasing the pressure of her fingertips against his flesh as she traced, leaving only warmth in their wake. Her fingers brushed against the waist of his trousers. He stifled a curse as his cock throbbed.

  “I count nine of them. Do they stop here or are there more?” Giselle's lower lip was between her teeth as she looked up at Alastair. He felt his jaw twitch as he shook his head. “Why nine?” She asked as she brushed her fingers along the ridges of his abdomen.

  “There's a character in Chinese literature named Shi Jin, a warrior with nine dragon tattoos. He became an outlaw to protect his people from a corrupt government.” Giselle smiled and stepped closer. Alastair could feel the warmth of her against his skin. Her scent saturated the air and he closed his eyes as he inhaled. “You don't find this unattractive?” He asked carefully. She shook her head.

  “I think it's beautiful!” Giselle sighed. He felt her breath on his skin. She splayed her fingers and slid her hands up his chest as she licked her lips. “You look like you were carved from stone.” Alastair stilled her hands.

  “Yesterday, when we were on the bed, was that so you could distract me and complete Gilles’ task?” He had to know if she had been as effected as he was. Giselle's eyes were heavy when she looked up at Alastair as she pressed herself against him. She set a finger to his lips and traced them.

  “I want you to take me. Now. I want you to have me as many times and in as many ways as you'd like.” Her voice was like honey. Heat and lust exploded within Alastair, he groaned as he lowered his head. For the first time since he took off his shirt, he allowed his body to move. He cradled her face and brushed his lips against hers.

  “I can't, not now.” He whispered against her mouth. “We have to go down soon.” Giselle whimpered as she pressed her hand down the front of his trousers. She found his erection and she stroked it through the fabric causing Alastair to hiss.

  “Couldn't you just hurry?” She begged. He shook his head.

  “No, I can't.” He pressed against her jaw and she opened. He angled his head as his tongue slid into her mouth. She was sweet and he groaned as she wrapped her hand around him. He pulled his lips from hers. “I’d need a few hours.” He was so close to breaking down and carrying her back to the bed. Alastair looked down and the sight of her breasts swelling against her gown made him lightheaded.

  “Please, Alastair! I need you!” He felt the words against his neck and shuddered. “I feel like I'm going to go up in flames if you don't touch me.” Her tongue swept against his neck tentatively and he nearly ground his teeth to powder. He knew he had to do something to distract her, to placate her.

  Alastair quickly assessed the situation. He couldn't trust himself on the bed, especially if she behaved as she had before. He needed to satisfy Giselle while stimulating himself as little as possible. The chair behind him. He would use his hands, his fingers to help her find her release. He considered her flushed skin, rapid pulse, dilated pupils, the elevated temperature of her body… Giselle was highly aroused. Alastair was confident he could bring her to climax in minutes without increasing his discomfort too dramatically. He pulled her with him as he moved backward. He sat in the chair and pulled her waist, guiding her to sit astride his lap.

  Once she was perched over him, Alastair slid his hand up Giselle’s back until his hand reached her neck. He pulled her face to his and claimed her lips. Her hands pushed into his hair, she tilted her face and kissed him hungrily as her body arched against him. Alastair realized his plan wasn't working. He was very stimulated. He felt as if he was drowning in the textures of her skin, her perfume and her warmth as she draped herself over him.

  His control wouldn't last long. He had to hurry or else they wouldn't be leaving his room that evening. Alastair found her knee and slid his hand upward, gripping firm, silk wrapped flesh. Her stockings were so fine and thin, her legs felt almost bare. When he reached her garter, he turned his hand and caressed the soft skin on the inside of her thighs. Giselle gasped as her head fell back. Alastair pressed his lips to her neck, tracing the long column as his hand slid down her back to mold around her bottom. His other hand swept higher, brushing against the apex of her thighs. She trembled and held her breath as he gently teased the delicate folds of her womanhood. She was already hot and damp, the smell of her rose and mingled with her perfume and Alastair quaked. He was starting to feel desperate.

  Giselle pleaded his name and rocked against his hand. He tightened his grip on her derrière as he parted her delicate flesh. She was all slick heat, her juices scalded his finger as he pressed into her. She hissed and became still, her attention focused on where he began probing within her. Alastair swallowed a groan as she wrapped mercilessly around his finger. She was unbelievably tight and his cock swelled painfully. Determined to make it to dinner with his sanity intact, he set his lips to the swells of her breasts. They were warm, soft and fragrant, Alastair was nearly undone. Against his better judgement, he licked her creamy flesh. Hunger roared within him and he was helpless. His tongue lashed at her mounds, dipping into her cleavage as deep as he could and slipping beneath the neckline of her gown.

  Alastair felt Giselle's hands cradling his head, pulling him against her. He remembered Lucien's comment about dying in a woman’s breasts and decided he would happily let death claim him. It seemed likely if he didn't release his raging erection and slide into her soon. He could feel his control slipping away from him. Desperate and slightly afraid, Alastair slid another finger into Giselle and pressed deeper. His hand was bathed in her arousal as she writhed above him. He lifted his head and watched as her swollen breasts strained against the gown’s décolletage. He had never wanted to know anything as badly as he did the color and shape of her nipples. Alastair squeezed his eyes shut and prayed that Giselle would climax soon. So far, she seemed content to let him explore her molten depths.

  He smiled grimly against her cleavage. He should have expected that she would be able to tolerate more than most women her age. Alastair set his thumb to the delicate knot of flesh within her folds and began stroking in a gentle, circular motion as the fingers within her pressed forward, toward it. Giselle hauled in a des
perate breath and exhaled his name. He felt her body become taut and he increased the pressure. She whimpered and shook her head frantically.

  “Give in, Giselle. Let go.” Alastair whispered against her skin. She gasped for air and her hands fisted in his hair. He felt her fighting against her body, trying to withstand the pressure building within her. “Now.” He ordered just before he bit her nipple through the fabric of her bodice. Giselle froze in his arms for a moment before she flew apart. Her body shook so hard, Alastair was afraid she would faint. Before she could scream, Alastair covered her mouth with his only to hear his own muffled growl as she tightened painfully around his fingers. His cock protested, straining within his trousers. Goosebumps covered her flesh and she collapsed against his chest. He could feel her heart pounding against his bare skin as his own beat rapidly within him. Alastair’s body demanded release, raw lust clawed at him, trying to force its way out. It would be so easy. A voice within him urged. His hand slid from her bottom and brushed against the fall of his trousers. His eyes flicked to the clock and he remembered that time was running out. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply for several moments.

  “I need to finish getting ready.” Somehow, he sounded almost normal. Giselle sat up and blinked at him. Still dazed from her release, she nodded her head weakly and leaned forward to kiss him. Alastair felt his eyes grow wide as her lips brushed his and the tenuous control he'd recently recovered started to fray. He gripped her waist as he pulled his lips away. He lifted and set Giselle on her feet. She swayed drunkenly as he stood. Alastair gripped her shoulders to steady her before he turned them and guided her to sit.