by Pamela Cayne
“Come here.” He let his passion for her fill his eyes, beat his heart. She slowly leaned forward and he couldn’t stop the groan that escaped him, nor the way his eyes shuddered closed as her unfettered breasts rubbed against him, skin to skin. He felt the touch of her lips against his and without letting go of the blankets, he kissed her as he’d been wanting to do since she’d first straddled him. He slanted his mouth over hers again and again, stroked his tongue against hers.
Lady wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed herself against him, rocking back and forth with a friction that was testing the last fraying thread of his control. When she rocked forward one more time, the slit in her drawers shifted and her cleft parted over King’s erection, the linen giving way to softer, warmer things.
King’s control shattered. He released his fisted hold on the blankets and wrapped his arms around her middle, the feel of her causing his breath to stop for a second. Lady rolled to the side and pulled him with her, keeping one leg thrown over his hips so they kept touching.
King took advantage of his position to lower his head and kiss her breasts the way he’d been kissing her mouth, sucking her nipples in and rolling them on his tongue. He lowered one hand to the curve of her bottom, sliding it underneath her drawers, and could feel her moisture against the tips of his fingers. That wetness both broke him and brought him back, and he jerked his hand back and threw himself onto his back. He’d almost reached deeper, stroked that sweet spot that would make her thoroughly wet and broken his promise to let her be in control. “I can’t,” he managed to say between gasps. “I’m not going to take you like this.”
He could hear Lady panting beside him and he didn’t dare look at her. He could imagine her swollen lips, her eyes gone smoky and hooded, the pink of her nipples rising above the cream of her skin. He clenched his hands so he wouldn’t grab her.
He closed his eyes, but he could still hear her moving, could feel the bed shift, smell her musk over the tea-and-lemon scent of her skin as she sat up and started to crawl over him and off the bed, when something so amazing happened that King felt his heart fill his throat. Against his will, he opened his eyes to see.
Lady had removed her drawers and straddled him, nestling the head of his cock in her plump, wet folds. “Then I’m going to have to take you like this,” she said and slid onto him.
It killed King to not let his eyes roll back in his head, but he kept looking at Lady, wanting her to feel his gaze the way he could feel that little part of her spirit waking up and stretching.
As she rode him, flexing and pushing him to the edge of control, King tightened everything in himself so he wouldn’t be just another man using her regardless of coin being exchanged. He wanted her to know he was different, that she was different, and if it caused his pleasure to turn into pain, he would bear it.
She started to move faster, make little groans that signaled the beginning of the end, but it didn’t feel like it to King. There was no change to her body—no puckering of her beautiful nipples, no blood rushing to her skin and especially no imminent signs from where he could feel her the most. The thought that she couldn’t let herself completely go chipped off a piece of his heart.
Knowing he would be breaking the promise he made to himself to let her remain in absolute control, King relaxed his fists. As slowly and gently as he could, he touched her knee with his fingertips. She started for barely a second, but then resumed that wicked rocking that was going to cause him to come whether he wanted to or not. Like a wisp of candle smoke, he started to trace his fingers up her thighs, letting his palms brush against her skin. Her rocking became a little jerky, and he felt a small flicker of hope.
As they swirled up her hip, his fingers barely brushed the curve of her bottom before arriving at her waist. At that spot, King couldn’t resist laying his hands on her. He needed more of him touching more of her.
He slid his hands up her sides, this time only touching the barest curve of her breast before reaching under her arms and letting his hands curl around to grasp her shoulders. Lady drew back until only the barest tip of him remained in her and she finally looked at him, her eyes wary as if she was expecting a trick. She held there while King let his hands flow down her arms to her hands, twining his around so they were grasping hers. As she watched him, King finally let himself look away and glanced at their joined hands. He felt her start to slide back down his length, and as she did, he pulled both of her hands to his mouth and kissed them.
With a frantic cry, she grabbed his shoulders and started riding him with an enthusiastic yet innocent frenzy. “Hold me,” she said in a broken whisper and leaned forward to pull him tight as he sat up to wrap his arms around her waist.
“I’ll never let go,” he said and felt the beginnings of her pleasure start to clench him as tightly as her arms were. He kissed across her chest, up over her collarbone, and as his tongue was licking up the front of her neck, he felt her cry against his mouth the same time he felt her orgasm break upon her, squeezing him into his own.
Crying, yelling, screaming, they writhed together as the wave broke over them and threw them, gorged and exhausted, back to the bed. Lady collapsed on top of him.
After a few moments, she stirred and he opened his eyes to look at her. She had raised her head and was watching him, a shy smile lighting her whole face. She brushed a kiss on his lips and slid over to his side. King felt the loss of her surrounding him, but when she curled against him and he pulled the quilt over her, he felt a new warmth against his skin. He closed his eyes, thinking of the sparkle in hers, and smiled.
* * *
Hannibal lit a cigar and held it at arm’s length, staring at the glowing tip. His other arm was propped behind his head and the naked girl whose head was resting on that arm was tracing her fingers through the hair on his belly. After he’d taken care of that business at the warehouse and bribed a few officials, he’d still been thinking of Lady’s sweet cunny and found himself stiff as a railroad spike once more. Just because he and Lady had decided to wait didn’t mean he had to. He came to the Red Door and asked for Jenny, the girl who looked a little like Lady as long as he only saw her ass or the top of her head.
“So, Mr. Adams, I hear your man Mr. King is going to win the tournament, he is.”
“Aye, Jenny. That’s right.” He was only half paying attention to the girl. He was still deciding whether to pull Shade or not. With King possibly hurt, it might be better for him to have another fighter who could still win the tournament.
“I like Mr. King, I do. When Mr. Collins pays for me to see him, I get a fluttery feeling in my pussy. Maybe I’m helping him win,” she said and giggled.
So, Mr. Collins was sending Jenny to King, was he? What did that mean? He took a puff of his cigar and curled his arm around Jenny, his hand playing along her ribs. “How many times has Mr. Collins paid you to see King?”
“Are you angry, Mr. Adams?” Jenny sat up and looked at him like a puppy that had gone on the rug. “If you don’t want me to, I won’t. I promise.”
“No, that’s fine, Jenny.” He pulled her back down, his hand now cupping one of her sweet little paps. He sighed. That’s where he did miss his Lady. She had bubbies that could pillow his head, none of this barely a handful shit. “I know you’ve got to earn a good living and that’s fine with me. Besides, I know you’ll come see me if I ask, won’t you?” He laughed and squeezed one of those little paps like a ripe plum.
Jenny squealed. “Oh, of course, Mr. Adams.” She started to trace the hair on his belly in a specific downward pattern.
“So how many times, Jenny?” Hannibal took a deep draw on his cigar.
“Oh, let’s see. There was the day after Mr. King was hurt, and he said there would be one more before the big fight, but he hasn’t given any instruction yet, so just the two.”
“Hmm. Did he say why he picked y
ou?”
“Said he thought I had pretty hair.” She started to stroke his cock using her fist. Hannibal took a deep breath and enjoyed the sensation. “Said he thought Mr. King liked blondes,” she murmured and crawled over him to start kissing where her hand had been.
Hannibal took another puff on his cigar and closed his eyes. The way this blonde was using her tongue sure made him appreciate... He opened his eyes and looked down. The way Jenny had her hair piled up in a braid made him think of Lady. Lady was a blonde. King liked blondes. Lady had said no to him earlier tonight.
With a curse, Hannibal shoved Jenny off him and jumped off the bed. He threw open the door and yelled for Shade. In less than two seconds, his man was running up the stairs, pushing other girls and their customers aside.
“What do you need?” Shade asked, and Hannibal knew he could say swim to France, and Shade would.
“Go get King and check on Lady. If King’s not there, go to Lady’s alone. Make sure she’s all tucked in right and tight, but nothing else. Anything different, you send a boy to come get me. Got it?”
“Got it,” he said and left, scattering more people in his wake. Hannibal was reminded of a hunting dog, all power and grace, and ready to snap a fox in half if given the word. The power he held over Shade got him even harder. He turned back to Jenny, huddled and crying on the other side of the bed. His cock gave a happy jump.
“Now, where were you?” he asked with a wicked grin.
* * *
Lady finished dressing and King helped her on with her cloak, using the chore to wrap his arms around her and pull her so her back was flush against his front. Lady had just sunk into his warm and heady embrace when two sharp raps on the door broke them apart.
“It’s probably Jenny again.” King sounded casual, but Lady knew Jenny could sink them as much as anybody else. King slowly walked over to the door, then opened it only the width of his head.
“Mr. Adams has something for us to do.” Lady heard Shade’s voice and prayed he didn’t hear the small gasp she couldn’t hold back. She didn’t move, knowing if Shade took one step into the small room that he would see her and her worst fears would be realized.
“Now?” King asked, sounding bored. Out of the corner of her eye, Lady looked at the door. King had narrowed its opening under the guise of leaning on it, and Lady watched it for the slightest twitch of being pushed open. Since it appeared to be staying closed, she pulled the hood over her head. If by chance Shade did look in, he’d only see a woman in a cloak but nothing distinguishing.
“Of course, now. Let’s go.”
“Let me get dressed first.” She heard King scuffle around and knew his shirt would be somewhere on the bed, but wasn’t sure about his boots.
“It smells like sex in here.”
Lady froze.
“Why do you think I have my rooms here?” King chuckled. “Which also begs me to ask where we’re going when I could be enjoying these rooms again.”
By the fading of his voice, he was leaving out the front with Shade. Lady risked a glance over her shoulder and glimpsed King’s back as he was exiting. She crept over to the space behind the door so she could hear what was being said.
“We’re going to Lady’s. Mr. Adams wants us to check on her.”
Lady pressed her fist to her mouth to keep from screaming, in rage or fear she didn’t know. King pulled the door shut and Lady laid her ear near the crack so she could hear if any more was said.
“Good. That’s a short trip so I’ll be back in time,” King said.
“Time for what?” Shade sounded curious even against his determination to carry out Mr. Adams’s wishes.
“Seconds.” King laughed, his voice growing faint as they headed for the front door. “Wait a moment,” he said, followed by increasingly loud footsteps. She pulled her head back as the door swung open. King ran across the room, looking frantically from side to side, then turned and saw her. He grabbed a jacket and whispered, “Money for the hackney is in the cupboard in a blue dish. Key to the back door is beside it. I’ll stall him as long as I can, but get going.”
He left, making a show of shutting the door. Lady heard him call something to Shade, but she was already running across the room on the balls of her feet so the heels of her shoes wouldn’t give her away. She grabbed two shillings and the key, and left, locking the door behind her.
As she turned toward the street, she looked for a hansom, but there were none around. She checked the other end of the street again and felt her fear grow sharp claws in the lining of her belly as Jonathan stepped out of the shadows.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Well, well, well.” Jonathan walked toward her with his hands in his pockets and a big smile on his face. “Look who I ran into scurry-scurrying out of King’s. It’s my good friend Lady.”
Bile rose from her stomach to the back of her throat. If she screamed for King, gambling he was around front and could hear her, Shade would know and somebody would be dead by morning. But Jonathan liked to play more than anything else, so as she calmed herself, she decided to play along.
“Why, Jonathan. How lovely to see you,” she said as cordially as she could manage. She tucked her shaking hands inside her cloak. “We simply must catch up tomorrow night, but I’m afraid I’m late for a little appointment right now.” She winked at him and started to walk toward the most populated area she knew of. If she could peel him off in a group of people, wonderful. If she could get a hansom cab, even better. If she could do both, she’d light a candle or ask a religious person what one was supposed to do to give thanks for divine intervention.
“Well, let me walk you.” He fell into step beside her.
“Really, you don’t—”
“Holy dooley, of course I do. Leave a lady alone on the street at this time of night? Somebody might get the wrong impression and touch you inappropriately or something.” He grinned and put his arm around her waist, letting it droop enough so it was touching her inappropriately.
Lady stopped and took a step to the side, facing him head-on. She put on her best let’s not make trouble smile that was one part indulgence and two parts steel. “Jonathan, I appreciate your escort, but I’m sure you understand Mr. Adams likes to keep his personal property just that. Personal.”
He swept a low bow from one hundred years ago. “Apologies. Let me walk you home, then. I’d feel better and it’d give me the chance to make up for the insult I just paid you, but I know my dear boss, Mr. Collins, would want me to make sure you got home all well.”
Lady sighed, when what she wanted to do was blow out a big gust of air and scream. She didn’t have time to banter with this disturbing Aussie.
“Jonathan, I need to get home immediately. As I mentioned, my appointment is waiting.” She smiled her smile again but it turned into a frown of confusion when Jonathan suddenly walked away from her. If that was all it took to rid herself—
A shrill whistle split the air and Lady jumped. She looked at Jonathan. He had his hand in the air and...merciful heavens, a hansom was heading their way. It stopped near Jonathan. He placed one hand on door of the cab and indicated with the other that she should get in. Lady stepped in and gave her address, feeling some small relief that she was on her way. The other part of her was still nervous about the wiry man who jumped up next to her, looking as pleased as a young buck who’d just set up his first mistress.
“So, Lady. How fares our King? Is he...relaxed?”
“Excuse me?” She changed her look to three parts steel and cocked her head at him.
“You know, for the tournament.”
She looked past the horses to the street beyond. “He is well, ready and able to fight. As for his state of relaxation, I wouldn’t know. I simply make sure he’s healthy as can be.”
“Yes, that’s right. His
shoulder.” He clicked his tongue. “I hope that doesn’t make him too vulnerable for his fight tomorrow, or, praise be, his fight against me.”
“You seem awfully sure of yourself.”
“Is there any reason I shouldn’t?”
He looked relaxed, composed, pleased even. Any other person would say this was a bland, pleasant man, but Lady would argue that. This version of Jonathan sitting beside her was more dangerous than the cricket of a moment before. She needed to keep him, and his boss, as close to her pocket as she could. “Given how handily you’ve won your fights, I suppose not. Perhaps I’ll have to bet some of my hard-earned coins on you tomorrow night.”
Jonathan grinned, and in a wonder of timing, they pulled up to Lady’s house. He jumped down and helped her out of the cab, but didn’t try any forbidden touches, even though Lady was without gloves. As she reached into her pocket for the coin to pay the driver with, Jonathan gently touched her arm, stilling her. “Save your money for the title fight.” He flipped the driver a coin and the cab left. As Jonathan started to walk away, he winked at her, his grin practically infectious, and said, “You’ll get a better return.”
Lady watched him leave, completely baffled. The only thing she knew was not to trust or believe anything he said. She was so befuddled over this interaction with him that it was a few seconds before she remembered why she’d taken the cab home. In the fraction of a heartbeat it took her to realize King and Shade would be here soon, Lady started running around back, pulling her key out of her pocket as she did.
She jammed it in the lock but it wouldn’t turn. Swearing, she took it out and tried again, but the door remained locked. She pulled the key out and looked at it. This wasn’t her key. It was King’s. Swearing again, she ran her hands through her pockets and came up with her key.
