by Marissa Day
“Do you like it?” whispered Edward. “Do you like seeing his hard cock?”
Freda certainly liked it. She grinned a hot, wanton grin and wrapped her fingers around Marcus’s rigid cock. Marcus hissed and laughed and arched his hips as she ran her hand up and down its length.
It must feel so good to touch him like that.
Vision assailed Alicia, of the conservatory in the moonlight, of a woman’s naked thighs and a man’s head down between them. He licked and teased as the woman arched her back to reach for the pleasure his mouth gave her.
“I saw…” Edward had been there, holding her, watching with her, speaking of the beauty of what they witnessed. “We saw it. Before.”
“You remember,” he said softly.
“I remember.” She should not be here. She must run away. Run away and forget. Her hand clenched her brooch until the ribbon strained against her neck. “I am mad. Wholly mad.”
“You are not mad, Alicia.”
But she was. She was on fire inside and the burn of it was driving her past reason. In front of her, Freda had leaned forward to kiss her man, running her tongue around his mouth. All the while her hand stroked and pumped his cock. Marcus broke their kiss to draw his mouth along the white length Freda’s throat, past her shoulders, down to the curving tops of her breasts. Now it was Freda’s turn to moan and lean toward him. Marcus lifted his hands to the undersides of her breasts, pressing them together, so he could nuzzle and kiss the plump, bare flesh above the curving neckline of her bodice.
“I should not want to see this.”
Edward laid his hands on Alicia’s hips. Warmth spread out from his palms and fingertips. It wrapped around her belly and sank deep into her skin. “I am here with you.” He leaned close. She felt his lips moving against her ear. “I’m watching too.”
“Do you…do you enjoy…this?”
“I enjoy the sight, but not so much as I enjoy seeing your delight in it.” His fingers brushed the nape of her neck, moving aside a few stray curls of hair. Such a light touch. Nothing like the harsh, fast strokes of Freda’s hand against her lover’s cock.
“Harder,” Marcus gasped. “Oh, God, yes, Freda. Harder!”
“This does not feel like delight.” There was a weight on Alicia, pressing her down. The more she saw, the more she felt, the stronger that weight grew.
“Be still a minute. Rest against me.”
Edward eased her back. It felt good to lay the whole of herself against him and feel the solid contours of his body through her muslin dress. He would not let her fall, no matter what. He curled his calloused hands gently around her forearms, right over that little space of skin bared between her sleeve and glove. He’d done that before as well, and she’d liked it just as much that other time.
When he spoke again, his breath brushed her ear. “When I danced with you at our engagement, when I spoke with you, I thought, here is a good woman, a sound woman. We will get along well together. But when I saw you in the conservatory, flushed with desire in the moonlight, I thought, here is a magnificent woman.” He ran his palms up her arms to her shoulders, and down again, caressing her gently, as if she were precious crystal. “You were so filled with desire, Alicia. So very beautiful in your need.”
At his words, warmth bloomed within her and spread, and it felt true and good. A wordless moan escaped her.
“That’s right, Alicia.” Edward’s hand glided around her waist to rest against her belly. “Lean close. Trust me.”
She wanted to, desperately. His hips rubbed lightly against her back, and all the breath left her. Her knees trembled and buckled. He was supporting her entirely now, with his hands and strong arms, and all she could do was lean back and let herself be held.
“Watch, Alicia. Watch with me.”
On the other side of the screening trees, Freda straddled Marcus’s legs, and still she stroked his cock. He’d shoved her skirts up so high Alicia could see her naked thighs. Both of his hands had thrust under the bunched fabric of her skirt, one in front between her scandalously bared legs, and one behind to cup the curve of her buttocks.
“I want…” Alicia panted. She was on fire. It hurt to want. It hurt to need.
“What do you want, Alicia?”
What did she want? She wanted to run. She wanted to stay here, just like this. No, not just like this.
“Touch me,” she whispered.
“I am, Alicia.”
“No, no, like that…”
“Like this?” Edward’s hands glided down from her belly, to her thighs, pressing her buttocks close against him. The ridge of his erect cock rubbed enticingly against her back.
“Yes. Yes. Like that.”
“Do you want more?”
“Yes.” No. No. Stop. This is dangerous. Dangerous. But still she wanted it.
In front of them, Marcus grasped Freda’s curving buttocks, shoving her forward to his other hand, lost to Alicia’s sight under her rumpled skirts, but he grinned at his lover’s hard hiss of breath.
“He’s fondling her pussy, Alicia. Just here.” Edward’s hand slid across to the cleft between Alicia’s legs until his fingertips rested against her slit. “He’s stroking her clit. You can see how good it feels to her. Shall I touch you like that?”
“Yes.” But the gray swaddling darkness of her soul and self was closing down over the pleasure awakened by Edward’s bold touching, holding it back, leaving her awash in fire. “Now,” she said through gritted teeth. “Do it now.”
Edward’s fingers began to move, stroking the very tip of her slit. Lightning flashed through Alicia and the breath rushed from her. It felt so good. How could anything feel so good? Beyond the screening bracken, Freda was rocking and rubbing against Marcus, crying out in her delight like she didn’t care who heard. Their pleasure was palpable. It sank into Alicia to mix with the warmth of Edward’s body. It was almost as if Marcus’s mouth touched her breasts, as if she herself straddled his hard thighs and held his cock. No, not his. Edward’s. It was Edward’s cock she imagined in her hand. It was his thighs she wanted between hers, not just his hand, his clever, wicked hand, which was pressing into her slit now. Alicia felt herself growing warm and damp between her thighs. Edward sucked in a sharp breath and his hand moved faster, pressing closer into Alicia’s slit and finding a tight point of pleasure there. His cock swelled hot against the small of her back as they rocked and rubbed together and Alicia had to bite her lip to keep back her moans.
Marcus kissed Freda’s breasts through the cloth of her dress, grasping the very tip of her nipple in his teeth. As if it were too much to be endured, Freda cried out loud, her whole body bucking and shuddering, shaken to the core by the delight with her.
“Freda!” Marcus cried, and he too was seized by the ecstatic tremors raging between them, and they laughed and shook and kissed and laughed again, rolling onto the ground, and into each other’s arms.
But Alicia had traveled beyond the sight of them. Her whole awareness was centered on Edward’s knowing touch. “More,” she heard herself cry. “More, please.”
“All you want, Alicia.”
He pressed her closer, holding her, stroking her, gentleness replaced by urgency. It felt so warm, so good. But there was something else now, some new sensation brushing against her skin. At first Alicia thought it was sunlight, or perhaps the frantic rush of her blood as Edward’s hand continued to stroke her with such unending urgency, but it was not either. This was stranger and stronger than any of these things. It did not come from within her as the rising tide of pleasure did, or from outside like the heat of the sun. It was as if a current of heat and energy flowed directly from Edward’s body into hers.
The glass wall of her mind shuddered and pain bit deep into Alicia’s soul.
“No!” she cried. “No, stop!”
Edward’s hands froze instantly. The sensation of the current flowing between them vanished at once and took all the warmth with it. The pleasure that had throbbed th
rough her folds and her clit a moment before was washed away in a rush of cold. Alicia slumped weakly in Edward’s arms.
“It’s all right, Alicia,” said Edward. “It’s all right. I’ve stopped.”
“I…I…” Alicia struggled to right herself. How could she possibly explain this sudden outburst, after she had begged so wantonly for him to touch her?
“Look at me, Alicia.” Edward turned her to face him. She shook her head. She couldn’t look at him. She wished she had the strength left to run away. This was impossible. This was madness. It was like the scene in the conservatory, only this time played out far more shamefully.
A sudden realization dropped like a stone into the flow of Alicia’s thoughts. Now she did look at Edward, straight into his surprised, gray eyes.
“You knew about this!” She pulled herself free of his steadying hands.
“Alicia…”
“Do not try to deceive me!” Anger, as hot and unfamiliar as the delight had been, flooded her. Alicia welcomed it, for it drove out the last lingering riot of pleasure and left her thoughts much clearer. “I may not have a woman’s feeling, but I do have a brain! You brought me here on purpose to shame me!”
“No, Alicia, never that. I swear it.”
“Then what? I don’t know how you did this, but you…you hired those…actors, somehow. You thought to draw me out!”
Edward sighed and his shoulders drooped. But not in defeat. He was not sorry. Not he. Her supposedly respectable fiancé had schemed to expose her. He had wanted to make her feel indecent. How had she ever believed he was a gentleman? All his decorous manners, his solicitousness—that was all a game. He was something else, something wicked and dangerous. Her gaze drifted to his hands, and her pussy strained to open between her clenched thighs, but she could not tell whether it was from anger or desire.
“I did arrange for you to see Freda and Marcus,” Edward told her. “And I did mean to draw you out. But it was not to shame you.”
“Then why?”
“I wanted to be close to you. I wanted to understand you better.”
“By forcing me to witness such a display!”
“I never forced you,” he replied evenly. “Had you asked me to take you away, we would have gone. But you did not ask to leave. You wanted very much to stay, because you enjoyed what you saw.”
“I was paralyzed with shock.” Alicia tried to gather her usual calm back about her, but she could not. Desire was too hot, anger was too strong and neither was lessened by the sight of Edward smiling at her.
“Now you’re the one who’s attempting to deceive me, Alicia, and that displeases me greatly.” He stepped closer to her. The breadth of his body seemed to block all possibility of escape. “You enjoyed what you saw, and you wanted to see more. Further”—he took another step forward—“you enjoyed what we did.”
“What you did. I did nothing.” He was too close. She caught his scent, even over the green aromas of the summer grove. As she breathed him in, she remembered his hands on her arms, her shoulders and her hips. She felt again how his fingers pressed into her slit to touch the tight, hot nubbin he had called her clit, and bring her such bright pleasure.
“I did no more than you asked me to.” He still smiled at her, and there was nothing tight or wrong about his expression this time. It was an open, easy smile, and it sharpened her body’s memory of his touch.
Alicia drew back, and shut her mouth firmly. She felt the flush in her cheeks and throat deepen. Because he was right. She had enjoyed every aspect of his touch. But there was more to it than simple pleasure. She had felt herself to be on the brink of some great revelation, and that was now gone. As much as her mind tried to tell her it was better she remain ignorant, her body still ached with being denied.
“Why would you treat me this way?” Heat prickled behind her eyes. It was too much, too strong, and nothing made any sense anymore.
“Passion is an important part of a marriage, Alicia.”
He was still smiling, but he had his hands folded behind him, and adopted his strong sailor’s stance. It was, she realized, an attempt to reassure her on some physical level. He would not touch her without warning or permission. Despite this, she felt a cord of fresh sensibility in her blood, but it was nowhere near as pleasant as the other newfound sensations had been.
“That’s not the truth,” she said slowly. “Not all of it. You’re hiding something from me.”
Edward raised his eyebrows. “You’re right.”
“Don’t you…What?”
“You’re right. I am hiding something from you.”
“You admit it?”
“Freely.” He shrugged, and Alicia could not help but watch the way his shoulders rippled. Her palms tingled and she wanted nothing so much as to run them across the breadth of him.
“Since you are so disposed to tell the truth,” she said, attempting to distract herself from her keen awareness of his body. “May I ask what it is you hide?”
Edward’s smile broadened and yet, at the same time, the levity of his manner seemed to lessen. Alicia felt her stomach churn. Why was this happening now? She had never been able to look at someone and even begin to guess what emotions they held.
“Do you truly want to know?” whispered Edward.
Worry pricked up Alicia’s spine. But if she backed away now, she knew she would remain trapped in this place between fear and need. No mist of her mind, no imagined glass wall, would be thick enough to shelter her from these feelings. “Yes,” she answered. “Yes, I want to know.”
“Then look in my eyes, Alicia. Look deep, and you’ll see.”
Her first thought was to tell him not to tease her. But he did not seem to be teasing. His face was still and solemn. Indeed, the whole of his body had gone very still, as it had the other evening in the music room. She remembered that now. How strange she had forgotten, for it was the moment before he had kissed her. It was her first kiss. Surely that was something to be remembered. His mouth had been soft and supple, gentle and sure, just as his hands had been when he touched her today. How could anyone be so gentle and so wicked all at once? It was as great a mystery as anything that might wait behind his gray eyes.
He didn’t move, not a fraction of an inch. He was patience itself. He would stand there until she complied with his strange command. It was up to her. If she wished to understand, she needed to obey. If she turned away, he would let her go. This decision was hers.
Steeling herself, Alicia took one step forward. She tilted her face up, and looked into Edward’s eyes.
At first, she saw only a man’s eyes. Fine eyes, certainly, and an unusual color, being a gray so bright as to be almost silver, but with dark flecks adorning the irises. Alicia thought of moonlight, and polished steel. There were both in the shine of Edward’s gray eyes. The skin around them was brown and seamed from squinting into sun and wind. She suddenly saw him standing on the pitching deck of a ship, one hand tight on the rail, one fist raised to the storm, shouting defiance to the ocean itself. A brave and wild joy shot through her, as if she stood beside him, arms around his arm, daring the sea to do its worst.
That’s right, Alicia. Look deep. See me.
He was speaking to her. She could not be mistaken. She knew his voice like she knew his eyes, like she knew his touch. Mischief, gentleness, strength, passion, she knew all these things waited within him. But there was much more, if she could but reach it. There was understanding. There was sharing and truth. She had only to reach out and grasp it.
Do not be afraid, Alicia. I’m here.
He was holding out his hand for her. He had not moved any more than he had spoken, and yet she knew it to be true. She could extend her hand; she could reach him, reach understanding, reach passion and shelter and companionship—all the things she had longed for in those numb, lonely hours when she had cursed her inability to comprehend the love of man and woman. All of that was there for her now. All she had to do was reach out, and she woul
d be no more alone. She would know this man truly. And he would know her.
No. No. No!
A bright and terrible light tumbled through her mind. With it came a flood of voices, flashes of faces, all riding a tide of awful feeling; fear and hate and sorrow, all raging together.
Don’t tell. Don’t ever tell. You’re Alicia, Alicia Hartwell. Tell and they’ll come back. They’ll steal you away forever.
But I want to go! I hate it here! I want to go with the White Knight!
They hurt you!
Only when you came! You should have stayed away!
Oh, God, oh, God! What do we do! What do we do!
Hold her down!
No! I want to go with the White Knight! The voice that shouted from distant memory was a child’s voice. Her voice. She remembered. She remembered the burn in her throat from shouting those words. She was a little girl. She faced a man and a woman. Her parents. But she was screaming at them. She hated them. She hated them so badly she wished they were dead so then she could run away, run away back to the White Knight…
You’re an evil little demon and you must pray to be made good. You must wear this ribbon or all the evil in you will come pouring out and the devils will come and take you away again!
Lord Carstairs’s hand jerked back like he’d been burned.
“By all that’s holy…” he whispered.
“What’s happening to me?” Alicia backed away, wrapping her arms tightly around herself. She couldn’t see straight. The world was spinning all around her. “What is this?”
“You’re remembering,” Edward said through gritted teeth.
“Remembering?”
“Your memories have been taken from you, along with your heart and passion. They’re being held away from you by enchantment.”
His words rang in her ears, as if he’d shouted them in a closed room. She felt her eyes widen. “You’re mad.”
“No, Alicia. You know I’m not, and neither are you.”
