by Adele Clee
“It’s enough for now.”
Her words sent a frisson of fear through him which he tried to dismiss.
They turned into the mews off Great Ryder, the privacy giving him the opportunity to pull her arm tighter through his.
“It is this door,” she said pointing to the wooden gate in the middle of a long brick wall.
He walked her to the entrance. “Will a servant be waiting to let you in?”
“If not, I can always break a window,” she said coming to stand in front of him. Her eyes stared longingly into his, asking him to kiss her, begging him to.
“That reminds me, you still need to pay for the damage to my window.”
“Pay?” she said with a giggle. “What choice did I have? You refused to let me in.”
I can’t let you in now, he thought. Not if it means facing rejection. He brought her fingers to his mouth and brushed his lips across them. “I shall wait here until you’ve closed the door, until I know you’re safely inside. Good night, Miss Bromwell.”
She swallowed deeply, and her bottom lip quivered. “Will … will I see you again?”
“I don’t know.”
“What are you scared of?”
“Only of hurting you,” he said before stepping past her and opening the gate. He already knew how to live with disappointment and pain. “Please, go inside. You must go inside.”
She moved through the doorway and turned to face him, hugging the edge of the gate as though it brought comfort.
“You must close the door,” he said knowing she had no choice but to obey.
When he heard the latch click, he took a deep breath. His body shook with need, his heart ached, his cock throbbed. He could still sense her standing on the other side of the door. Yet the tumultuous nature of her emotions made it more difficult to access her mood.
Heart-wrenching pain hit him first, with such force that he sucked in a breath. He could feel the pulse of desire too, mingled with a soul-deep yearning that cried out to him.
Bloody hell.
He had to walk away. He had to leave her. But his feet were rooted firmly to the ground. Letting his head fall back, he stared up into the darkness. But he knew he wouldn’t find the strength or the courage he needed there.
I love you, Alexander.
The words exploded in his chest like the brightest firework, bursting through him in a mass of warm, wondrous rays.
He’d begun the night wanting to believe there was hope, yet he’d closed the door to it at every opportunity. Convinced himself it was all in vain. Acceptance was all he wanted. And love … to love and feel loved in return.
With a burst of optimism, he turned on his heels and moved towards the door.
He would tell her about his past; he would tell her everything.
Chapter 15
It felt as though her heart was breaking. She had known Alexander Cole for a short time, barely knew the man he kept hidden inside. Yet she loved him with every ounce of her being.
How was it possible?
From the moment she’d closed the gate, the feeling of loss was unbearable and she’d not been able to stop the tears from forming. Perhaps she’d lived many lives with him before, each new birth erasing her memory of the last. Somewhere, the essence of the man must still be buried deep in her consciousness, reminding her that she had always known him, always loved him.
He felt it too; she was sure of it.
So why was he so hesitant? What was he afraid of?
The sound of wood scraping against gravel startled her, and she swung around to find his muscular shoulders filling the doorway. Her heart lurched at the sight, fluttering in her chest like a bird trying to escape its cage, as he closed the door and stepped forward.
“I know I shouldn’t be here, but I can’t leave you,” he said. The tremor in his voice suggested an inner turmoil. “I am too weak to deny my heart and soul what it so desperately desires.”
She could hear her own breathless pants as he came to stand in front of her beneath the cherry tree.
“I want to tell you everything,” he continued, using his thumb to wipe the tear from her cheek. “Afterwards, you may insist I leave, but it is a chance I must take.”
Evelyn didn’t care what he had to tell her. It was all in the past. Nothing he could say would change the way she felt about him. Nothing could dampen her desire, or extinguish the love burning in her heart.
He took her chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Don’t be afraid. You need never be afraid of me. You must know I would never hurt you.”
A surge of raw emotion burst forth. She wanted to ease his torment, make him forget all the terrible things that plagued him, make him smile and laugh. Whatever he had to say could wait.
Love was unconditional; she would prove it to him.
No matter what happened, she was his, now, tonight — forever. God had granted them this precious moment, and she would grab it with both hands and never let it go.
Before he could utter another word, she tried to thread her arms around his neck, but he caught her hands and held them tight.
“I shall give you this opportunity to step away, to go inside and leave me here alone. For I promise you when our lips meet, I will not be able to control what happens between us.”
Evelyn swallowed deeply as she understood the implication of his words. “I would never run away from you.”
“If you value your virtue, you will turn from me and not look back.”
“I want to stay.” Her heart was racing. “I want everything you have to give, Alexander. I want to be with you, regardless of the consequences.”
He gave her no option to reconsider. As the last word left her lips, he lowered his head and claimed her mouth in a surge of unbridled passion.
The kiss was wild, chaotic, as their frantic hands grasped and tugged at each other’s clothing. Their tongues were lost amongst the pants and guttural groans and Evelyn threaded her hands into his hair and pulled at the roots to anchor his mouth to hers.
His masculine scent surrounded her, potent and intoxicating. The urge to touch him, to feel the heat radiate from his skin became unbearable, and she pulled her mouth away from his.
Swallowing a series of short breaths, she fumbled with his coat, eventually pushing it over his broad shoulders, abandoning it to yank at the buttons on his waistcoat.
“We should slow down,” he panted, “but I can’t stop.”
“Quick. I need to be near you.” Her voice sounded different — deeper, huskier, desperate.
At her command, he shrugged his arms out of the sleeves of his coat, and it fell to the ground.
He kissed her again, hard and swift, before turning her around to fiddle with the buttons on her dress.
“Bloody hell, I can’t see what I’m doing. My fingers feel numb.”
“Quick,” she repeated, “Just rip it.”
He turned her around to face him as his lips curved up into a wicked grin. “Rip it?” he asked, his eyes alight with amusement.
The beauty of it was enough to send her spiralling further into the madness that consumed her and she yanked at the bodice until she heard the material tear. He helped her out of her gown, grasping her petticoat as the silk pooled around her feet. The hooks and eyelets gave way easily under the strain as he ripped them apart. It took him less than a minute to untie her short stays.
Free from her encumbrance, his hands moved everywhere, all at once. Caressing her breasts through the thin chemise, cupping her and pulling her against the evidence of his arousal, he kissed and nuzzled her neck.
Then he stopped suddenly, pulled away and stared at her neck with some confusion.
“What’s wrong?”
He shook his head and with another grin said, “Nothing. I was worried I might hurt you, but it seems my fears were unfounded.”
“By kissing my neck?”
“I have sharp teeth.”
“I found it rather pleasant.” She could sense a slight reserv
ation and decided to offer an incentive to rouse his passion again. “I’m yours, Alexander,” she said, pulling her chemise up over her head until she stood naked before him. “I promise you, there will never be another.”
“Eve.” The word held a hint of anguish.
Heat pulsed between her legs, craving his touch. With her gaze never leaving his, she crouched and lay down amidst the mounds of material. “Take me, Alexander.” Her words were brazen, wicked, sinful; but she didn’t care. “I’m yours. Only yours.”
Like a man possessed, he tore at his clothes until he was naked.
She had never seen such a glorious sight.
When he pressed his body on top of hers, she thought she would melt from the fire coursing through her.
He claimed her lips as he rubbed against her, his tongue dancing with hers, their mouths mating.
“I will never let you go,” he said as he moved to lavish her breasts with equal attention.
It was all too much — exquisite pleasure mingled with an agonising longing. She needed something more from him, something she couldn’t explain in words.
“Alexander, please.”
“Oh, God, Eve. I will die if I don’t have you soon.”
He moved back up to claim her mouth, used his knee to push her legs apart and she felt him nudge against the intimate place where the fire burned and pulsed.
“I’ll be careful. I’ll … holy hell,” he gasped as he pushed inside her.
“Oh,” she breathed. Swallowing hard, she clutched at the muscles in his back, wrapped her legs around him as he edged deeper.
It felt heavenly, divine. She felt whole, complete.
Then he was kissing her again, his tongue in her mouth, moving down to her breasts as he thrust past her virginity. She cried out, the sound drifting up into the night and he stilled as she grew accustomed to the feel of him.
The rush of pure emotion made her want to cry. She wanted to show him how much she cared for him, how much this moment meant to her.
“I love you,” she whispered as he moved back and forth inside her, knowing that in doing so she exposed her soul, had laid it bare.
“You’re mine,” he growled as he pounded deeper and deeper, the rhythmical slapping teasing her senses. “Forever, always.”
She moved with him, let him control the pace, let him claim what he needed as she relished in the feel of the bulging muscles in his arms. The need to claim him in return, to have him at her mercy, burned inside her.
“Show me,” she said, between breathless pants. “Show me how to make you mine. Show me how to claim you.”
Alexander stilled. The feel of her sweet body hugging his cock made him reluctant to withdraw, but he could not deny both his surprise and fascination at her request.
He glanced over his shoulder. “We’ll need to move,” he said almost groaning aloud when he slid out of her warmth and moved back to lean against the trunk of the cherry tree.
Her eyes grew wide as her gaze fell to his jutting length. “Sit astride me,” he commanded, and she crawled over to him and straddled his thighs. It took all his effort not to take the rosy peak of her deliciously round breast into his mouth, but he concentrated on positioning himself at her entrance. “Sit on me. Lower yourself down, but do it slowly.”
Gripping his shoulders with both hands, Evelyn did as he asked, impaling herself as she took the length of him deep inside.
“Oh, God,” he cried throwing his head back against the trunk. “Take me, Eve. Take me as your own.” He gripped her hips and directed her movements until she found a rhythm.
Without the comfort of a mattress, it made it difficult for him to thrust up into her and he was left to rely on her to stimulate him.
With his hands cupping her buttocks, he watched the enchanting display. The night was clear; the moon’s muted rays brushed her skin. Her hair had come loose and hung wildly about her shoulders. Her lips were swollen and parted as her breathing became ragged. The moist sound that accompanied their joining was the sweetest song he’d ever heard and he knew nothing else in his life had ever matched the magnificence of this moment.
“Lean over me a little,” he said, and he took her nipple in his mouth, used his fingers to rub against her as she slid up and down his length.
He struggled to hold back as her hips moved more erratically. The coil of desire wound tighter and tighter and he knew it would not be long before she found her release.
Amidst the soft moans, she whispered his name, bucked and writhed, and he grabbed her hips and rocked her back and forth, desperate to maintain the rhythm.
“Say your mine,” he said, his voice like a deep growl as her inner muscles hugged and pumped his cock.
“I … I’m yours, Alexander,” she cried as they found their release together.
Chapter 16
With his arms wrapped around her, Alexander held Eve against his body and waited while their breathing slowed to a regular rate. He was still buried inside her, although his ability to perform had diminished.
Up until a few days ago, the thought of spending time in the company of another person roused feelings of anger, of betrayal. The belief that he was unable to control the violent urges, coupled with the lucid nightmares of him draining the life from all those who crossed his path, left him living in a permanent shadow of fear.
He had prayed many times: to be transported back to the tavern, to be free of the agony, to find a way to ease his loneliness. Little did he know, Evelyn Bromwell would storm into his life to answer his prayers.
Eve stirred and lifted her head from his shoulder, damp tendrils of hair obscuring her face. Never, amongst the vast array of licentious encounters, had he ever felt so sated.
“Are you alright?” he asked, smoothing back the tangled locks. Her eyes held a look he’d seen many times before — heavy lids framing a dreamy gaze. But on her, the magnificence caused his body to flame.
“I’m fine,” she said, her mouth curving up on one side. She bent her head and kissed him once, her lips slightly parted. “I would happily do it all over again.”
“I might need a few minutes, but I am more than willing.”
She tapped him lightly on the chest. “I meant I don’t regret giving myself to you.”
No one had ever given him such a precious gift. “Was it what you imagined it would be?” He caressed her back as he spoke, the contact making him swell inside her.
Her eyes widened at the sensation, and she swallowed deeply before replying. “I didn’t know I would feel like that. It was as though my soul had floated up and out of my body. Everything went hazy, and a tingling sensation rippled through me.”
No one had ever spoken to him so openly, so honestly and he felt privileged to have been the one to rouse such a satisfying response.
“We should have found a more suitable place,” he said, a stab of guilt piercing his chest. “Somewhere warm, a little more comfortable.”
“But I like it out here.” She looked up at the night sky. The stars twinkled against the vast inky background, the celestial canopy a fitting setting for what had been a heavenly experience. “We have an affinity for the night, for indulging our whims in secret. It is what first attracted me to you. It is only right we indulge our desires in the same manner.”
God had not forsaken him. God had sent this angel of light to be his salvation, to be his companion, to walk with him in the shadows.
“I feel free at night,” he said, his tone a little melancholic. “The night is my home. It is where I belong.”
Ironically, the night was also his prison.
“Sometimes the darkness calls out to me.” She stared at a point beyond him. “It rouses me from sleep, forcing me to lie awake until dawn. I’ve always found it a lonely time, as though I’ve woken to find I’m the only person alive in the world.”
Alexander stroked her face, let his fingers trail down her neck, over a pert pink nipple and he smiled when she sucked in a breath.
> “You don’t have to be alone at night. Know that I am always awake, always waiting for you.”
Her gaze drifted from his face to the mark on his chest, and she jerked her head back as though only noticing it for the first time.
“What’s that?” she asked pointing to the cross inside a circle of woven twine.
“A branding. They are popular in some cultures.” He did not want to lie to her. But it was too complicated to explain.
“Is it a religious mark?”
Religious? It was the mark of the Devil.
“It is the mark of a wanderer, of a soul lost to the night.”
Using the pad of her finger, she traced the outline.
“But you are not lost anymore, Alexander,” she said, and he was relieved she had not pressed him for a more definitive explanation. “We have found each other. When you lie awake at night, know that I am also waiting.”
Threading his hands into her hair, he guided her mouth to his. The kiss was soft, tender, and full of hope. Despite being in a state of semi-arousal — two or three strokes and he could easily have her again — he knew her aunt would be waiting.
“Come, let me help you dress. Your aunt must surely be home and will no doubt be worried.”
With wide eyes and a loud gasp she stood up, albeit somewhat awkwardly, and her cheeks flushed a delicate shade of pink. He could smell a trace of blood, had to clench his jaw and grit his teeth for fear of them protracting. Mrs. Shaw’s evening repast of animal blood had satisfied his hunger, but the smell of human blood always stirred his senses.
“You’ll want to wash,” he said stating the obvious as he stood and helped her rummage around the strewn garments.
She grabbed her petticoat and clutched it to her chest while she searched for her chemise. It was too late for modesty. He’d committed every inch of her body to memory and would spend the daylight hours alone in a candlelit room, sketching her perfect form.
When she located her chemise, he picked up his own garments and dressed quickly before helping her thread her stays and brush the creases from her gown.
