Blood Secret (25 page)
Now he knew he couldn’t live without Lucy. But he couldn’t ask her to live with him. How could they have a future together when he was a dragon slayer?
He moved forward and took Lucy’s hand, passing by her. Her lips parted as if she wanted to speak, but she didn’t. Which was good—his throat was too tight for words.
She had told him James needed him. Unabashedly, she had used his nephew to play on his guilt. He watched her dance as he moved mechanically through the steps. He saw other men watch her. Despite naked breasts and bottoms displayed for their delight, gentlemen stole glances at Lucy. She beamed with such delight as she danced. She displayed natural grace, natural beauty, and she looked so lovely yet ladylike it obviously enticed men.
Possessiveness surged through him.
He knew what was going to happen as the dancing ended. He intended to ensure Lucy did it with no one but him.
He was going to miss her. And James. It was going to hurt James if he didn’t come back. But it would free the boy from danger. Wasn’t that more important?
Sinjin knew he would never be able to kill the prince if he tried to do it and survive the fight. But if he went in willing to sacrifice himself ...
His sire would never suspect he was willing to die. It might give him the advantage he needed. If he was going to be destroyed, he was going to damn well take the prince with him.
The music stopped. Suddenly, in the midst of the dance. Lucy came to a halt, staring in confusion around her. Everyone else knew what to do, of course.
Sinjin pushed through the other dancers to reach her. He got to her side just as a hopeful gentleman lifted her hand for a kiss.
Sinjin pulled her hand free of the bloke’s grasp. “The lady is not available,” he warned.
With a shrug, the man turned, and claimed a pretty redhead in a green corset. The brothel’s client pulled the wench tight against him, squashing her large breasts, and kissed her.
Sinjin backed Lucy to the fringe of the crowd on the dance floor. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her back against his body. He cupped her breasts, nuzzled her earlobe, and listened to the shocked squeaks Lucy made as she looked around her.
A couple beside them ... the gentleman was nibbling the nipples of his partner. Not sucking, he was lightly scraping with his teeth, and the woman was writhing in pleasure in his embrace. Some gents had dropped to their knees to lick and devour the cunnies of their partners. Others had leaned against walls and columns and were already thrusting vigorously.
Lucy gasped. “It is an orgy after all!”
“It becomes one. It is the special event of the week. One you are not going to take part in.”
“No, I wasn’t—” But her voice died away.
Behind him, Sinjin heard one young girl’s voice gasp, “Oh goodness!” Another girl giggled. Lucy pushed his arms away and whirled around.
“Helena! Beatrix! You must go upstairs at once!” Lucy’s expression was of shock and outrage. She wagged her finger at her sisters.
Sinjin laughed. “Here, love. Let’s shoo your sisters upstairs. This is not for them.”
Her pretty sisters wore bright red flushes. Lucy strode to them, turned them with her hands on their shoulders, and marched them out of the ballroom.
He had to smile at her motherly behavior. She herded her sisters out through the doors, and he followed the three of them upstairs.
As she ensured the girls were in their bedrooms, he retreated. Ready to leave.
But a soft, aching voice stopped him. “Please don’t go.”
He turned to face Lucy. She held her hands out to him. “Please don’t go yet,” she whispered. “I want to make love to you ... one more time.”
He should go. It was late—past two o’clock in the morning. But he knew she had meant to say “one last time.” Christ, tears sparkled in her eyes.
One last time. That was what it would have to be. And he couldn’t say no.
19
Tied Up
“C
hampagne, my love?”
hampagne, my love?”
Lucy blinked. The bedchamber in which she stood was pitch-black. Warmth filled the room, but the fire was not lit now. Darkness was like a velvety blanket around her. Sinjin moved with ease through it, since he could see in the dark. The room did not belong to either of them. When Sinjin had agreed to make love with her, he had brought her here.
Something gave a soft
pop
, followed by a fizzy hiss. It must be the champagne. It made a sloshing sound as it hit the glass.
pop
, followed by a fizzy hiss. It must be the champagne. It made a sloshing sound as it hit the glass.
On instinct, she opened her eyes wide, but of course it made no difference. “I wish I could see in the dark as you can.” She had her arms crossed over her chest, and she turned in a circle, too nervous to move so she didn’t walk into something. Despite the cozy temperature of the room, she felt cold—cold with nerves, with apprehension, with the fear that if she did not act quickly she would lose Sinjin forever.
“Sorry, love. I should have been more thoughtful.”
A sulphur smell touched her nose, then a small light flared. Illuminated by the tiny flame, Sinjin touched it to the wicks of several candles. Slowly, the room filled with soft light.
Lucy bit her lip. She had to do something that would keep him with her, but she didn’t know what. She rubbed her arms as he returned to the bottle of champagne. He poured a tall flute of the ivory-gold liquid and brought it to her. She took it and lifted it to her lips. She took a sip, then giggled nervously. Holding the flute, she walked around the room. What could she do ... ?
She passed a wall on which velvet ropes hung.
Now she knew. Exactly what to do to prevent him from leaving.
She was adorable. Sinjin swallowed hard as Lucy drained her champagne. She gave an endearing little hiccup. Coyly, she sashayed up to the wall. He loved the gentle sway of her hips, enhanced by the rippling movement of her ivory skirts. Curls of silky black hair bounced against her neck.
Lucy plucked a length of black velvet rope from the wall.
Teasingly, he asked, “Do you want me to tie you up?”
She faced him, a frank and open expression on her face. “What if I want to tie
you
up again?”
you
up again?”
He blinked, instantly aroused. He could picture her doing it once more—straddling him on the bed, and tying him to the bedposts, leaving him vulnerable to whatever she decided to do to him. He hoped it involved naughty things with her fingers and her lips and her sweet pink tongue.
He brought the champagne bottle and refilled her glass. Her gaze captured his, and it was magic. He had been given eternal life, but this moment was the most magical thing he’d ever experienced. “I am yours to command.” Strange, how hard it was to speak. “Do as you will, love.”
He didn’t touch the champagne, but he felt as though he was intoxicated, just by watching her lift the glass to her lips. She drained it in one drop.
“You, love, are going to be drunk.”
Indeed, she wove a bit as she came right up to him, her body moving unsteadily. A silly smile played on her lips. With her right hand, she pulled pins from her hair. A river of black silk poured down, falling over her shoulders, tumbling down her back. He plucked the glass from her hand and put it aside.
Lifting her hands, she planted them on his chest. He let her push him to the bed. It was a different room, and the bed was a large circular concoction, with an enormous canopy and mounds of pillows.
This one last time was going to be beyond his wildest dreams.
The bed bumped the backs of his legs and she gave him a firm shove. He let her knock him over and fell on his back on the bed.
“Have to undress you,” she said, her words slurring a little.
“I’ll do that, love.” He didn’t want to waste time—so he could get to the fun as quickly as possible. He was breathing hard. Wanting her. He stripped off his boots and tossed them. Peeled off coat, waistcoat, shirt, then trousers. Damn, but an Englishman’s proper dress was a pain in the arse.
Lucy had swayed back over to the ropes, giggling as she examined several more that hung on the wall. He watched as she tapped her lips and cocked her head, apparently making a decision over length, thickness, softness the way most ladies would assess their ribbons and lace. She draped several over her arm, nodding with satisfaction.
He was overwhelmed by emotion. By the sweetness of the way she studied the ropes. By the delightful surprise of discovering how wanton she could be. By the eroticism of the moment. By his hunger to spend the rest of his life with her. He, who had needed to provoke emotion, was swamped by it.
Sinjin swallowed hard as she returned to him and commanded, in husky tones, “Lift your arms over your head.” As he did, stretching out his body, her gaze raked over him. She seemed to be savoring the view, and she slowly ran her tongue over her lush lips.
Lifting her skirts, she clambered onto the edge of the bed at his side. Her bosom strained at the lace-trimmed scoop of her bodice. Her skirts flowed demurely over her hips and legs. Candlelight caressed her face. She was a devastating mixture of angel and temptress.
Then she leaned over him, lowering her breasts close to his face, and she tied his wrists together. His cock bucked, his balls tightened, and he almost came as she looped the rope and made a snug knot.
It took every ounce of his control to stay his climax. He took deep, ragged breaths and she diligently threaded a second rope through a ring in the headboard and proceeded to secure that to the rope holding his bound wrists.
There was something alluring about being bound and at the mercy of a beautiful woman. Or was it simply that he enjoyed being at the mercy of Lucy, whom he trusted and adored?
“Love, I can’t help you take your dress off now,” he murmured.
“Oh dear, I suppose you cannot. What should I do? I shall have to summon a maid.”
She would not do that. Not with him bound to the bed—
He was wrong. She slid off the bed, marched to the bell pull, and rang. When the young maid arrived at the bedchamber door, Lucy led the young woman into a dressing room off the bedchamber, but not before the young woman had seen him. Her eyes had been as large as saucers.
He was left on the bed for many, many minutes. But he could hear every aspect of Lucy undressing. The whisper of silk as her dress was removed. He heard the maid tell Lucy she was going to undo the laces of the corset. He heard the soft swish as petticoats fell. He heard Lucy announce she wanted to wear only her robe and nothing more.
Sinjin gazed down at his cock. It had bounced up and down at every word as if nodding its approval, as blood had surged into it and his groin had tightened. His ballocks were pulled up tight, his cock aching with each pulse of blood.
There was no way he was leaving now. He was in an agony of lust and hungering for satisfaction. He let his hands fall back on the bed. His hips were moving of their own accord, his buttocks flexing, wanting to pump against Lucy, wanting to shove his cock deep inside her.
Then she returned. Naked. Her loose hair flowed over her shoulders and shielded her bare breasts. Hard dark nipples peeped at him between the silky strands. Lucy looked beautiful, wanton, primal, standing there.
Then she brought her hands forward from behind her back and she revealed the lengths of rope. “Now I shall secure your ankles,” she said saucily.
Lucy had to admit: Sinjin looked so sensual and tempting and delectable all tied up. She felt a bit guilty as this seemed very naughty, but Lucy also could not resist sitting back and admiring her handiwork when she had his legs spread and his ankles secured to the bedposts by the velvet ropes. His arms were stretched over his head. He obviously enjoyed it—he was rock-hard.
She was wet and creamy with anticipation. Her womb ached with wanting him, and she could feel how damp she was between her thighs.
As she had sat back and surveyed how Sinjin looked tied up, she had yearned to stroke between her legs, to touch her clit, because she knew one light touch would make her come.
But she wanted to share the orgasm. She climbed on top of him, straddling his thighs. Slowly, she lifted his rigid shaft. It was incredibly thick and hard, almost like iron, and obviously a sign he was very, very aroused. With a soft, graceful stroke, she ran her hand down the shaft, then back up, where she cupped the head. His juices bubbled up, wetting her hand, making her hand slick so she could play with him.
But he begged her to stop. “I won’t last, love.”
She lifted, bracing one leg straight and she stroked the swollen head to her wet nether lips. Then she took him instead. Deep inside, all the way inside, in one stroke, until she collided with the firm planes of his groin. Oh God. She moaned fiercely.
Then, planting her hands on his chest, she rode him.
In three wild strokes, she came. In an explosion of cries, and moans, and bursting lights, and squeals, and gasps. Her head lolled back and forth. Pleasure crested in her, and she slumped forward on him.
He drove into her twice more, then his hips jerked up so hard they lifted her off the bed. He growled and roared and thrashed against the ropes that bound him as he came.
When his orgasm stopped and Sinjin fell back, Lucy let her body collapse over his, while she gathered strength for another bout. After that ... and surely after several more orgasms he would not ever want to go.
His body sensed dawn approaching. Weakness worked at his arms and legs. Sinjin felt his muscles grow tired, his arms sagging against the ropes that held him. Dawn was coming and it was draining his strength.
Tossing back her tangled hair, Lucy sank back on her haunches. She splayed her hands on his abdomen and sucked in deep breaths. “Oh heavens,” she whispered.
Smiling, Sinjin watched her try to regain her senses from her orgasm—her third since she had tied him up. He wanted more, he wanted to savor this, but he had to hope she finished soon and undid his bonds. An hour or two was all he had left.
Then she arched back, made a sound of pleasure, and ran her hands over her bare breasts, caressing herself.
God, he had to fight not to grow hard again. “All right, Lucy,” he urged, huskily, “untie me.”
She dipped her head, then lay on top of him, pressing her cheek to his chest. “No.”
“No? Lucy, hell, do it right now.”
“I won’t. I won’t let you go and be killed. We must think of a plan. We can do this together. It will be dawn soon and then you cannot go.”
Sinjin let his head fall back on the bed, shutting his eyes. The poor sweet love. Her ropes would not hold him, no matter how tightly she believed she had bound him. Now she was sprawled on top of him, apparently hoping she could keep him pinned to the bed.
Did she really care about him so much? How could she?
But there was no point in arguing with the woman. He knew exactly what to do. He had to exhaust her with pleasure, until she fell asleep, and then he would deal with her.
There, she had done it.
He was tied to the bed—very well tied, Lucy thought. There was no way Sinjin could get free. She was lying on top of him, also trapping him. If he tried to escape, she would know. She had lied to him, but she had no other choice.
She refused to lose him. She had intended to stay awake all night, but after so much sex, so much pleasure, she was yawning. She would just shut her eyes for a moment... .
But the next thing she knew, she was opening her eyes to daylight.
And she was alone in the bed.
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