She grasped the waistband of his pants and opened them swiftly. One of his dark eyebrows lifted. “And I never truly considered just what sort of skills you might have learned in your father’s tailor shop.”
She pushed the sagging britches over his lean hips and they slithered down his legs. “It was quite the family secret.” She pushed him back and he sat back down on the bed. On some men, it might have been a submissive position, but not Bion. He spread his knees, his cock rising hard and promising from his groin as he watched her with roguish delight.
“No lady should understand the mechanics of a gentleman’s wardrobe?” he asked mockingly.
“Of course not,” she answered.
He reached forward and teased the swells of her breasts where they rose above her corset, then slid his hands down her sides. She had only a moment to lament the loss of his touch against her bare skin before he pressed the sides of her corset inward and the busk fasteners popped opened. Her breasts were free and Bion eagerly cupped them now that nothing covered them.
“Knowing the mechanics of clothing can be very useful.”
He slid one arm around her waist to draw her close. The other hand cupped one breast and held it steady for his lips. She gasped, never realizing just how hot a kiss might feel. Against the soft, pink skin of her nipple, it was scorching. Bion sucked the entire point into his mouth, drawing on it, then teasing it with his tongue. Her clit throbbed with need as she suddenly became a prisoner to it. It was that intense. She was certain she would have denied him nothing so long as he satisfied her desire.
The other side of her desperation sent her reaching for his cock. Once her hand was wrapped around it, he stiffened, releasing her nipple with a little popping sound, then arching his head back. The single lamp in the room was turned to the lowest setting to accommodate their eyes, but she could clearly see the corded muscles along his neck and jaw—the sort of reaction he normally inflicted upon her, the gnawing need that overshadowed everything else so clearly evident in his body.
And she very much wanted to make him twist with it. Memory stirred and she knelt between his spread thighs. She heard him draw in a breath but didn’t look up. She stared at his cock and felt her cheeks warm. It seemed rather odd to realize that she didn’t really know what this part of his body looked like. The skin was smooth and hot, the head of it crowned with a ridge of flesh that circled it and directly on top was a slit. She stroked it, marveling at the texture of the skin.
“Sweet Christ,” he whispered.
She lost the battle to control the urge to look up at his face. He was watching her, hunger flickering in his eyes. She maintained eye contact as she worked her hand up and down his length. His eyes narrowed. For a moment the man she so often battled with appeared, the part of his nature that wanted to be her protector, her mentor, and was always devoted to duty. She stroked his cock again and again, searching her memory for the information she’d glimpsed only once in the London Solitary Chamber library.
From a book of erotic arts.
There had been many volumes from all over the globe. Asian, Indian, and more, and all of it had made her blush. What she wanted to know was, would it reduce Bion to the same state he’d put her in, inside the gypsy wagon?
She opened her mouth and licked the slit on the top of his staff.
“So you did find that section of the library. I wondered…”
His voice was strained, his control compromised. The sound fed her confidence. It was amazing how empowered she felt. There wasn’t a hint of the revulsion the matrons had so often hinted went hand in hand with marital duties. Instead, she opened her mouth and took the entire head of his cock inside without even a shudder. He made a sound that was deep and husky. She took more of his length into her mouth, lowering her head and then pulling it back up until his cock was free.
Bion’s hands were fisted on the edge of the bed, his fingers crumpling the bedding. She closed her eyes and took his cock back between her lips. She was as lost in the moment as he was, her attention on the sounds he made as she licked and sucked. The portion of his length that didn’t fit inside her mouth, she stroked with her fingers before grasping it with both hands and pressing all the way down to the base as she lowered her head. He jerked, snarling as if fighting against something. His cock was becoming harder, the slit producing a salty drop of fluid before he captured her hair and pulled her head away.
“Let go, Bion.”
He leaned over and kissed her hard and fast, then he stood up and pulled her along with him. “I’m a pirate, remember? I take what I want, and right now, that is you, my sweet.”
His voice was hard and unyielding. Just like his body. She wanted to melt against him, the need inside of her making her weak. Bion didn’t give her the chance. He turned her away from him, the chain rattling as he caught one of her ankles with his foot and spread her legs apart.
“Chained and bound for my pleasure… a pirate’s feast to be sure.”
“I’m your lover—”
A soft swat landed on her bottom, popping loudly in the stone-walled room. Bion pressed her body over, until she laid her hands against the bed to support herself.
“What you are is mine.”
Yes. It was more than a word; it was an emotion that swept through her. She felt suspended inside it, like being in the center of a wave. Everything was crashing around her, the unseen place in the middle an unexpected haven. Even if it was going to crush her, she still longed to stay in its grip.
“And I plan to take what is mine.”
He grasped her hips, his grip sending a spike of hard need through her belly. It was carnal, even if her knowledge of the word was limited. She knew it in that moment, would have sworn that she tasted it as the head of his cock burrowed between the folds guarding her entrance. He held her tightly, keeping her as his possession while pushing his cock deep into her body.
She’d never felt so connected to another human being—never needed to strain toward one as she did at that moment. The sensation was clawing at her, making it impossible to not fight against the grip that held her in position.
“Mine, Sophia,” Bion snarled at her. “To take as I please.”
Arrogance coated his words as he worked his length in and out of her all the while holding her still for his ravishment. She gripped the bedding, her fingers curling into talons as she used it to give her something to push off of. At last she defied him, moving backward into his next thrust. Satisfaction rippled through her as she let out a contented sigh of achievement.
“You really are a pirate wench,” Bion scolded her. “Never content to do as I tell you.”
He was breathing hard and she was straining toward him. The bed cracked and the chain rattled, but she didn’t care if every single occupant of the ancient building heard them. All that mattered was meeting his next thrust.
“I’m not your wench,” she insisted. “I’m… Grace O’Malley… your counterpart.”
Bion growled and pulled free. He scooped her up and tossed her onto the bed. She bounced in a tangle of limbs, her shackled arm falling heavily to the surface of the mattress.
“I’m going to make you scream.”
His voice was savage but when he joined her, she found herself once again delighted by the harsh edge of the moment. He’d seduced her gently before, but tonight she was too consumed by need to be sweetly satisfied. She wanted his weight and wrapped her thighs around his hips when he pressed her down beneath him.
“And I am going to hear you cry out, Bion Donkova.”
He thrust hard and deep into her body, the bed rocking beneath them. Sophia lifted her hips, straining to take every last bit of his length. Pleasure knifed into her, sharp and hard. When he withdrew, her muscles gained only a moment of relaxation before she was rising up to meet the next plunge and then the next. She cried out, unable to contain the pleasure inside her. Each thrust pushed her closer and closer to the edge of insanity. She clawed at him, somehow not
feeling close enough to him.
She did scream, the sound torn from her as the pleasure crested and tumbled down over her. It turned her over and over, tumbling her in what felt like an endless moment of rapture. She couldn’t move, couldn’t relax her viselike grip on her lover. Bion snarled and bucked. He groaned with his release, the sound harsh and savage. Deep inside her passage, his seed set off a second eruption of delight. This time it was duller but no less breathtaking. She lost her grip on reality, floating along in a bubble of contentment that was so warm, she had no idea when Bion rolled off her. He lay next to her, breathing heavily as she tried to calm her racing heart. Every inch of her felt too hot.
Bion moved at last, rolling onto his feet and pushing the bedding aside. She rolled toward him, kicking at the coverlet until she had the cool feeling of the sheet against her skin. Her lover joined her, laying along her back and trapping her feet between his ankles. He nuzzled at her neck, placing soft kisses there before settling her head beneath his chin.
***
“The matter will be sorted out within the week.”
Mr. Graves nodded to the Guardian as the man left the room. Since he’d been living on an airship, the place looked like a palace. He lifted his arms, stretching them out wide and turning around simply because he could, but the chain locked around his wrist kept him from completing a full circle. He glared at the manacle, bringing it closer to his face to inspect it. He was so close and yet still an eternity away from freedom.
What a piece of bad luck.
He scanned the room, searching for things to use to escape the shackle. He was no stranger to fate turning her ugly side on him. No, sir, he was not. He sat down and pulled the lamp closer so that he had a good view of the lock. Fate had dealt him more than one losing hand over the years, but he’d always managed to stay alive. Escaping the Soiled Dove had been something he’d thought beyond his doing and yet he’d done it. Now, there was just one more shackle to overcome.
He’d find a way.
***
“Did you hope I had found that section of the library?” She must truly have lost her wits to ask such a thing, but the question tumbled out of her mouth while her brain was still hazy with satisfaction.
Bion choked and tried to cover it with a poor attempt at a cough.
“Are you actually shocked, Captain?” she scolded softly. “How very un-pirate-like.”
“Pleasantly shocked, which is very much in keeping with the roguish code of the lawless.” He cupped one of her bare breasts. “Yet I confess, I enjoy the differences between us.”
“You would prefer me always beneath your authority.”
He blew out a hard breath. “Must you always balk against it? My position is something I’ve earned.”
“And now you are a Navigator completely,” she whispered. “You must be happy about that.”
He shifted and stroked her cheek gently before answering. “As opposed to your own feelings about your transformation?”
“You needn’t sound as though I was acting ungrateful.” But her cheeks still heated with a guilty blush. “I’d never even heard of such a thing before that day.”
His fingers detected the heat, tapping gently against the spot that was turning scarlet. She shook her head, trying to wiggle away from him, but he locked her in place. Her emotions were unfurling inside her, completely disobedient to any sort of self-control.
“Let me up, Bion.”
“No.”
His tone lacked the arrogance she was accustomed to hearing when he was issuing commands. It made it no less of an order. She heard the expectation of obedience clearly.
“I mean it. Let me up so I can dress.”
He rolled her onto her back instead and kissed her. It wasn’t as hard of a kiss as he’d given her when they had been consumed by passion, but she tried to turn her head away. He followed her, covering her lips with his until need bubbled up again. Desire was slower this time, their coupling less frantic, and when pleasure broke over her, she surrendered to the need to simply sleep without deciding how she felt.
Because she very much feared she was losing her heart to a pirate.
***
Sergey held his hand out, waiting for his payment. The man in front of him carefully counted out the amount agreed upon, double-checking before giving it over. Sergey didn’t linger, didn’t wait for the man to begin tapping out a message on the telegraph machine. It was better to leave before anyone noticed he was there. He wasn’t the only man who sold information and he didn’t need anyone knowing he had money. People liked to find reasons to ask for gold when they knew you had some.
The man who had paid for the information smiled when the door to his tiny shop closed. Sergey was a simple man, one who had no idea how important the information he’d discovered was. He turned and opened a large book, looking through it at the messages that had come in during the last few days. Yes, Sergey had brought him something very useful, and he didn’t really care who acted upon the information first because he was going to sell it to everyone interested. The battle between the Illuminists and Helikeians was not his; it was simply a situation to profit from.
***
“The master is busy.”
The moans coming from beyond the arched doorway left no doubt as to what Jordon Camden was busy doing. A wispy, gauze drape was pulled across the opening, but when the pigeon keeper stepped in front of it, he could see right through to the interior of the harem. He had good reason to be there, but his palms were clammy as he took a moment to steady his nerve.
The master didn’t like to be interrupted, and his mood was always poor when he was taken away from his sport.
The pigeon keeper cursed his bad luck. He peered through the curtain, hoping to catch the master after he had obtained a peak. Jordon Camden was on his back, a redheaded beauty riding him hard. Her face was twisted with need, her breasts bouncing as she rode. She let out a high-pitched sound as she climaxed, but the master only shouted with victory.
“He likes to best them in the battle of wills,” the guard explained. “Likes to make them work to unman him.”
The pigeon keeper felt his hands shake as the master stood up and displayed his rampant cock.
Bad luck, but there was nothing for it. He had to take the message to him immediately or Jordon Camden would be even more displeased. He brushed the curtain aside and walked into the harem, keeping his eyes off his master’s pets.
“What do you think you are doing?”
The pigeon keeper simply held out the message. Jordon snatched it from his grasp and read it quickly.
“I must depart, my lovelies.”
There were cries of disappointment.
“Amuse yourselves with the pigeon keeper for as long as the man lasts.”
There was laughter and the pigeon keeper looked up, startled by his master’s words. Jordon Camden was pleased and patted him on the shoulder, then left him to the menagerie of females. If they were surprised by their master’s words, they didn’t show it. None of them hesitated to do exactly as they had been bidden.
His luck had changed for the better. Much better.
Jordon Camden ignored his cock. It was simply a matter of discipline. The message in his hand was worth money, a great deal of it. He sat down in his office and considered the information before writing out another message to Dr. Nerval and Captain Aetos. His informant in Russia had done a good job. His pigeon master was enjoying his pets as Jordan walked out to where the birds roosted. He selected the birds he needed and placed the messages in their pouches. No one was allowed to know everything about his network, not even the pigeon master. Jordon set the birds free, watching them flap away with a satisfied grin on his lips.
***
“It simply wouldn’t be proper.”
Decima tilted her head to one side and the telegraph operator gazed longingly at her exposed neck. For a moment, she allowed him to think she was offering herself to him before she looked back
at him and fluttered her eyelashes.
“Of course, you have your duty…” She let her voice lower until the man was leaning forward to catch her words. “I would never ask, except that my mother is so very upset. She’s thinking the worst, you see.”
The operator cleared his throat and looked around the deserted office. He hastily scribbled down a message and folded the paper before sliding it across the desk to her.
“I couldn’t very well sleep if I thought your mother was upset in such a fashion.”
Decima fluttered her eyelashes again, then left the office with a sweep of her skirts. She made her way down the sidewalk and around the corner to where Lykos was leaning against the building. His posture was deceptive, as was his rough clothing. She walked past him without stopping, and on to the Solitary Chamber three blocks away.
“You had that poor bloke ready to polish your boots.”
Decima looked up from the message the telegraph operator had given her. “It seems only fair that he should have enjoyed it. I am certainly pleased with my end of the transaction.” She held out the message. “I do believe we have found our two Navigators.”
“Two?”
Decima nodded. “It would seem there is much more to this tale.”
Lykos read the message twice. “So it would appear, but I rather suspect we are not the only ones looking for our comrades.”
Lykos abandoned his teasing demeanor. He was a fierce Guardian and it was moments such as this that Decima was reminded of it. There was a hardness in his blue eyes that warned of just how deadly he might be in defense of the Order and those few men he called friends.
She was not sure if that dedication would be enough. The circumstances were grim. Russia was a backward country, and the czar made his own laws. More and more Solitary Chambers were being abandoned because the czar was cracking down on the Order, and members didn’t want to remain inside a country that was still clinging to serfdom. It wasn’t the first time the Illuminist Order had left an area due to mankind’s greed. Decima doubted it would be the last. The only thing she feared was the all-too-grim fact that she trusted that Bion would perform his duty—even if it was to end Sophia’s life to keep her from falling into Helikeian hands.
Mary Wine Page 18
