Chapter 16

I still marvel at the fact he, the Duke of Argyll, believed I, his wife, a good, respectable, lady would ever visit a place so scandalous.

~ The Duchess of A

S prawled on her hostess's pretty sofa, with her rumpled skirts rucked about her waist, and Severin prone before her, Raina made a discovery.

She wanted Severin Cadogan.

She wanted him, not just as the skillful lover, and only man, who could ease the agonized throbbing between her legs.

She wanted him , Severin Cadogan, the Earl of Killburn—blunt, honest, and unapologetic. He wasn't the polite, proper, tender gentleman she'd imagined she wanted.

Where Raina had existed in a self-doubting state, worrying over people's ill opinions, and fearing who she might be, she'd simply existed and not lived.

Unlike Severin. Confident and self-assured, he made no apologies for the things he'd done, and in every way, owned he was, and it was impossible not to love such an impenitent man.

It was why she had no pride around him, and even less so when he had his hands or mouth upon her.

For years, Raina had wondered, and worried over the question as to whether she was a wanton like her mother. She'd feared society's opinion of her.

Now, however, with this bold, strong, powerful man, kneeling between her thighs, and pleasuring her so, she, at last, realized—she didn't care what the world thought. She didn't care about what decisions her mother made.

The duchess's decisions hadn't been Raina's.

Raina's life was her own.

Cadogan had set her free of the chains in which she'd bound herself.

Severin flicked his tongue teasingly over some over-sensitized place between her legs, bringing her back to the moment.

Raina cried out. Of their own volition, her hips shot up.

Severin paused his efforts and tipped his face up enough to flash Raina a smile.

"Where have you gone, sweet?"

The tender way he spoke and the grin he wore, was not the practiced, hard, empty one that too often grazed his lips.

She tipped her head to the side and contemplated him. This smile, so real, and teeming with benevolence and warmth, and it was as though, only during this love act that he could truly let his defenses down.

He grunted. "What?" he demanded, all harsh roughness once more.

Still off-kilter, Raina shook her head. "It's…" This glimpse of you. Only, she couldn't say that. Not without scaring him off completely.

An impatient growl rolled past his lips.

"Nothing," she murmured. "It is nothing." It was everything.

His sharp, angular features fell back into a familiar mask, and yet, he'd let it slip. He'd revealed that hidden inside, existed a man capable of warmth and tenderness.

It was like the shooting star she'd once seen flying across the Kent sky, one summer—so fleeting, but magical and magnificent—a chimerical sight too wondrous to ever be forgotten.

"Shall I stop?" he jeered.

Raina caressed her fingers along the jagged, puckered, red scar upon his cheek. "Do not stop, Severin," she said softly.

Passion blazed to life in his eyes.

He pressed a fierce kiss against her inner thigh, and then took that flesh in his mouth, suckling so hard she knew he marked her in this most intimate place; a spot that only Raina would see, so that she could remember when he'd put his mouth upon her.

Raina briefly closed her eyes.

She wanted him to imprint her as his—even as he clearly wasn't a man who'd ever want anyone. She'd not think of that now. As he sucked and nipped that soft flesh, she allowed herself to lose herself in his full, open-mouthed ministrations.

Then, he buried his nose in the damp curls at the apex of her legs.

She inhaled sharply.

"I love the smell of you," he murmured.

Raina whimpered. With his face at the entrance of her womanhood, when Severin spoke, his chin brushed against her throbbing center and his low voice rumbled through her.

"You're earthy, and sweet like molasses. May I have another lick, sweet Raina?"

" Yes ."

Chuckling, Severin licked her slit back and forth over and over.

Her lashes were suddenly too heavy. Closing her eyes, Raina let her head fall along the back of the sofa, while he worshipped her.

"You taste even better than you smell, love," he murmured, between each glide of his tongue. "I could eat you all day. If you thought people talked before, imagine what they'd say if I dropped to my knees and lifted your skirts and ate you up in the middle of the ball."

Raina palmed his cheek.

At last, she had her answer. She didn't crave or want the exhibitionism that her parents made of lovemaking. She wanted to celebrate the wonder and magic of the wicked, alone, with the man she loved; their own, private, but most intimate, glorious secret.

"I don't want anyone to see us, Severin," she said softly.

He chuckled. "Good," he whispered, dropping a kiss of approval atop her damp curls. "Because then others would want a taste, and I'd have to kill them because I don't like sharing."

With that, Severin lowered his head between her legs and buried his tongue deep inside her slit.

As he attended her, she closed her eyes and lay in lazy surrender to his worshipping.

He bespoke the manner of relationship she ached to have—one with a man who'd sooner slay than share Raina with another. One where he'd love her and do the most salacious things with her and to her, in a way that left them both satisfied as to never need or want to stray.

Just like that, Raina lost another corner of her heart to him.

While he still serviced her, Severin lifted his head enough to slant a hard look at Raina. For a moment, she feared he'd been truthful before and that he knew all her thoughts.

For an even longer moment, she feared she'd driven him away, and he'd stop making love to her.

"You still haven't begged me," he purred against her throbbing folds.

He pulled away so quickly, a convulsion wracked her body. She cried out; the pain of his cessation couldn't hurt less than had she taken an actual bullet.

"Severin," she turned his name into the entreaty he sought.

He dipped his thumb between her folds and gave her several maddening strokes, then, her punishing lover showed her benevolence. He buried a long, powerful finger deep inside her.

She exhaled a soft, grateful sigh and began to move. Lifting and lowering her hips, Raina rode his hand, too consumed by her need for fulfillment to be ashamed of her wantonness.

Raina was so close. She pushed against his hand. If she just ground herself into him, she'd have that glorious surrender she'd known only with him.

"Tsk. Tsk. Are you trying to steal from me, Raina?"

In the worst form of punishment, Cadogan drew that long, callused finger out of her channel.

Words failing, Raina made an unintelligible sound of protest.

Cadogan lifted that long digit he'd stroked her with; it glimmered with the sheen of her juices. "Want a taste of life's sweetest dessert?" he tempted.

A stab of lust ran through her.

Even as a blush born of desire and shyness blazed across her cheeks, a stab of lust ran through Raina. She forced herself to shake her head.

He chuckled. "Liar." His expression grew feral. "More for me."

Riveted, Raina watched, wide-eyed, as he drew that finger deep into his mouth, and sucked her essence free.

Briefly, he closed his eyes, like a man who'd tasted the first apple in that fated garden. "Delicious," he murmured.

Suddenly, he opened his eyes and made to stand.

Raina gasped, and, scrambling to the edge of her seat, she caught his arm. "Wh-what are you doing?"

She didn't care about the desperation that rang out in her query. Surely, he wasn't this cruel?

He gave her a cool once-over. "You know the rules, Raina. I get what I want. Beg me."

Beg me.

Of course, he'd take nothing less than what he'd demanded—Raina, humbled and begging, with the words he wanted, and how he wanted them.

Severin didn't think she'd so lower herself. Undoubtedly, he took her as a woman too proud and too spirited to beg any man—and he'd be correct.

What he didn't know—and she was grateful for his ignorance—to her, Severin wasn't a mere man; he was a God among mere mortals; a king among plebians. When it came to Severin Cadogan, the Earl of Killburn, Raina had no pride.

The price he asked, her supplication, was a pittance.

She'd have handed him her soul in this moment.

Shifting back onto the sofa, she edged up her skirts that'd slipped, and splayed her legs wider, in a wicked and welcoming invitation. "I want your mouth on me, Severin, please ," she beseeched.

His eyes dilated. "Good girl," he growled.

She'd never grow tired of his naughty praise.

Then, just as he'd promised, Severin gave her what she hungered for…what she needed.

He started slow; flicking his tongue back and forth over that extra sensitive nub at her center; grazing it, licking it until a little mewling, throaty incoherent sound built in her throat and bubbled from her lips.

"This is your clit," he said, while he pleasured her. "I'm going to suck it, sweet."

She cried out as he fulfilled that latest promise. That vulgar word combined with the wild dance his tongue played at her center, sent her body temperature rising.

Her mind had ceased to function. The tender, exquisitely, thorough love Severin made to her, reduced her to a bundle of heightened nerves.

Moaning, she undulated her hips, in time to each, long, slow glide of his tongue.

While he worshipped her womanhood, she stared, dazed, overhead at the mural of two lovers embracing amidst a lush garden.

She didn't want this to end. But more, she wanted him— all of him. His blunt honesty. His cool self-assuredness. His passion.

Raina forced her heavy eyes to Severin, and she watched as he worked her with his mouth.

When this man loved, he'd do so with the whole heart he swore he didn't possess. With his fiercely primal, possessiveness, he'd never use the women in his life—be it his wife, his daughter, a sister, or any female kin—as whores to grow his empire.

He'd not force her to don a crown and march her around like a piece of horseflesh as some sort of distraction that, in some way, furthered his wants.

And she wanted to belong to such a man.

Raina closed her eyes and allowed herself the fantasy, that Severin knelt between her legs, as the husband she'd like him to be; her husband.

The image was too much; the pull too great, and she lost all control.

"Severin!" Crying out, Raina's back and neck arched at the same time she wrapped her legs about his head.

Weeping and cursing, she ground her sex against his face.

He did not let up.

Severin lapped her and licked her and sucked her until every nerve in her body thrummed and tingled.

Only when she collapsed back into the folds of the sofa did Severin stop.

Panting and gasping, Raina lay there replete; her shoulders rising and falling fast, all the life drained from her.

She'd read naughty books, with even naughtier pictures. She'd read her mother's vivid, and also pitiful, journal. She'd been a voyeur to others in various states of dishabille, and also in various acts of lovemaking.

Never, never had she believed it could be like this.

Liar.

The muscles of her mouth, too tired to form the deserved smile, twitched, instead.

Each and every single love act coaxed her to new, soaring heights, so that, after each exchange, Raina wondered at how she could move through her life with her feet firmly on the floor.

Alas, all good things came to an end.

She felt a rush of cool air as Severin pulled his head out from between her legs, and she sighed at that loss.

Cadogan looked up. His mouth, chin, and jaw gleamed with her juices, and the sight of her on him sent a fresh flood of wanting to her core. "Good, Princess?"

Another dreamy smile played at the corners of her lips.

It'd been magical, wondrous, otherworldly, and she wanted to do it again and again with him.

With the cocksure glint in his eyes and haughty grin, the gentleman knew very well the havoc he'd wrought on her senses.

Raina gave his arm a playful swat. "You know it was far more than good," she said, her voice husky and thick as only it'd ever been in the earliest morning hour.

For as sated as Raina found herself, however, Severin's features were arranged into a pained mask.

She wasn't na?ve. She'd read enough to know a man needed to spill his seed to stop hurting as Severin clearly did in this moment—because of her.

And for the first time without caring about legacy or being proper so as to not become like all the other Goodheart's before, she brushed her fingertips lightly along his shoulder.

His hard eyes, glinting with frustration and heat, bore through hers.

"You are hurting," she said softly.

He narrowed his eyes.

"I…I know that…not that I know-know it," Raina rambled, but couldn't stop herself. "But I'm aware that what happened to my body, happens to yours. Not in the same way, of course." Her cheeks heated. "I just know you are hurting."

"It's not an emotional pain," he said sharply.

She drew back. "N-No. I'm aware." Severin took care to remind her at every turn that he wasn't capable of emotion, outside the physical.

"What are you saying then, Raina?" he jeered.

Severin still hadn't realized, she wouldn't be cowed by him. He thought to scare her off. No, he believed he could scare her off.

"I'm saying I want to pleasure you the way you pleasured me." That profession emerged far more timidly than she wished.

But just speaking those words aloud, sent a fresh flood of warmth and wetness rushing to her core.

His eyes bulged. His nostrils flared.

He had the look of a crazed man. The fact she had this power over him, rocked her with another wave of desire so strong she squirmed and shifted on the bench to alleviate herself of that unbearable ache.

Then, a mocking smile touched his lips. "You want to pleasure me or bring me off the same way I brought you off?"

Bring him off.

How crude.

How vulgar.

And how those utterances enflamed Raina.

That mocking grin he wore became all-knowing. Severin wrongly took her hesitation as second thoughts. How little he knew her.

Tipping her chin at a bold angle, she held his gaze. "I want to do whatever it is that makes you feel the way I do when you bring me pleasure, Severin."

He inhaled a sharp, noisy breath, through his teeth.

Getting up from the floor, he joined her on the sofa. "Then, let us begin, sweet."

Sweet.

She'd always dreamed of having a suitor and husband who'd refer to her by those little endearments, but how she preferred those rare times he called her his ‘love'.

"You've never touched a man," he said, matter-of-fact. "Take me in your hand and I will show you how."

She didn't want to know for or because or how for any man—but him.

Humbled by that truth, she did as he bid, and wrapped her fingers around his enormous length.

A hiss exploded from between his teeth.

"I hurt you." She made to pull her palm back, but he wrapped his larger hand about Raina's.

"You hurt me in the best possible way, love," he said, his breath coming hard like he'd run a long race.

Severin's shaft pulsed and jumped, and she lifted her gaze, marveling that she had any power over this formidable, menacing lord.

He grunted. "Let me show you."

Severin guided her hand through the motion; teaching her exactly what he liked, and how he liked it. He showed her the right amount of pressure to exert.

And as she found the rhythm, he extolled Raina's efforts.

"Good girl," he panted.

There must surely be a deficit of her soul and character that just two casual words from this man could stir such pride within.

He helped her onto her knees, and she willingly, no, eagerly went.

"Now, take me in your mouth."

Raina didn't hesitate; she did as he bade, parting her lips wide, and lowering her mouth over his thick, long length.

"Slowly, love," he guided her, tutored her. "Less teeth."

As he instructed her, she modified her movements to match the instructions he gave her. He coaxed her, teaching her just how he liked it.

"Like that," he coached, breathing heavily as he did. "Relax your jaw so you can take me deeper."

And Raina knew by the relieved sigh that escaped him, that he approved.

Soon, Raina found the rhythm he loved.

His head fell back. "Mmm," he groaned. "You're so good at this. Now, move up and down, Raina." All the while she followed his instructions, he stroked the top of her head like a beloved pup, whom he rewarded with a caress.

Emboldened, Raina took him deeper.

"Yes," he hissed, lifting his hips up and down to meet each stroke of her mouth.

Her center throbbed and dripped shamefully, as pleasuring him, fueled her own desire. In a bid to alleviate the agonizing ache between her legs, Raina rocked her hips, thrusting at empty air.

He chuckled. "My Princess is getting off on sucking me."

I am bad. I am wicked.

Those ugly, unwanted, intrusive thoughts that'd been with her too long, chose that moment to slip in and cast a darkness upon a previously only beautiful exchange.

Once they sank their tendrils in, there was no shaking free.

Do you truly believe other good, virginal, debutantes are off in a parlor, kneeling between a gentleman's legs?

I am my moth—

Severin cupped her jaw with an infinite tenderness and forced her to stop and meet his gaze. "You are perfection," he murmured, huskily. "Celebrate the joy of lovemaking; do not punish yourself for it, sweet Raina."

Her heart sped up and his rough, but gentle manner silenced those self-contemptuous ruminations.

"Tease me with your tongue," he encouraged, roughly.

Raina poured herself into his pleasure. She licked his length and swirled her tongue around the plump, round, tip of his shaft.

"Oh, fuck, that feels so good, love."

She continued that way, alternately sucking and licking him.

"Raina," he moaned, nothing more than her name, over and over again. "Raina. Raina."

She took him even deeper until he nearly touched the back of her throat.

His manhood grew impossibly big in her mouth, and she widened her lips to accommodate that stretching.

"You are so good," he panted. "How are you this good?"

While she learned the way he liked it, Severin groaned low and long.

"Christ," he rasped. "You need to stop. I'm going to come." Severin tried to shove her off.

"I'm going to spill myself inside your mouth, if you don't stop," he warned, sounding equally angry at her disobedience and desperate for her to defy him. "And it's going to be so much cum, Raina."

"I want you to," she moaned. With her mouth wrapped around Severin, Raina's avowal came muffled and distorted.

"If I were a better man, I'd insist you stop," he said hoarsely. "But I'm a blackhearted bastard so I'll take what you offer." Then, it was like a demon had been set free within him.

Severin tightened his hold upon her head, and as she bobbed her head up and down, he drove his hips up, to meet each downward stroke of her mouth. There grew an increasing urgency and harshness to his movements.

"Mmm. Yea. Fuck," he groaned.

His speech dissolved, and her body went ten degrees warmer as Severin's control slipped even further and further, and all because of the things she did to him .

His length pulsed and throbbed.

"Last chance," he gritted out. "I'm going to come, Princess."

What a low opinion he carried of himself. He, the same man who'd only just touted himself as caring more about his wants, gave her the choice, still.

Unlike before, Raina didn't offer words of assurance, she just sucked deeper.

" Fuuck ," he gasped, stretching that vulgar one-syllable into four and a prayer.

Severin surged upward, repeatedly.

Then, his body went taut; his fingers spasmed in her hair, that'd fallen loose again from the force of his thrusting.

Cadogan readjusted the grip he had on Raina's head.

"Here I come," he rasped, and with a long, low, guttural groan he flooded her mouth with his seed.

She moaned.

He'd claimed she tasted like the sweetest dessert. But Severin? The taste and feel of him, there was nothing like it—salty, and so primitive and masculine, she could subsist on the taste of him alone.

All the while she swallowed, Severin groaned and ground himself into her mouth.

With what sounded like a last, dying gasp, he sagged into the folds of the sofa, as Raina herself had done when she'd reached her surrender.

Swallowing the last of his seed, Raina peeked up at him.

Severin lay sprawled like a sated king, with one arm stretched along the back of the sofa and his opposite hand resting on his flat stomach.

His broad, muscular chest moved fast and hard.

On the heels of his surrender, the intimacy of what they'd done, and what she'd just done to him, proved sobering.

Raina drew her mouth from his softening length.

What they'd shared had been wicked and depraved—and Raina had loved every single moment of what they'd done this night.

Between her family's lurid past and the business her brother owned, Raina had been surrounded by vice. As such, she'd viewed acts of carnality as sinful, wrong, and depraved.

Closing her eyes, Raina rested her cheek against Severin's oaken thigh.

With him, she'd discovered lovemaking wasn't just the meaningless couplings her mother had come to relish or that Gregory had made a fortune from. No, when shared with the one who'd bespelled you in every way, it was…

"Magic," she silently mouthed.

A sated smile played at her lips.

The touch of Severin's hand and the feel of his mouth on her and inside her had awakened Raina to something special and earth-shattering.

For her .

Raina's smile fell.

But to Severin? It'd been purely carnal and devoid of all reverence and beauty she'd ascribe to what they'd shared in this now, sacred-to-her, room—a room which belonged to Lord and Lady Rutherford.

Cadogan glided his fingers through her hair that now hung in a tangle about her waist and massaged the back of her skull. He continued to rub those muscles and then the ones in Raina's neck—muscles she'd not even realized hurt until now. A soft grateful sigh eased past her lips.

The way he touched her now, however, so tender and considerate of her comfort after she'd pleasured him, didn't speak to a heartless man, focused only on his needs.

Or, the cruel devil in Raina's head taunted. maybe you're just so very desperate to see something that isn't there because you are in…

Raina stilled.

Oh, God.

Her pulse thudded at a slow, sick, beat.

I love him .

She wanted him and only him.

What Raina and Severin shared here, hadn't stirred his heart, or made him dream of and long for a future with her.

For Severin, any eager, willing woman, would do.

Nausea roiled in her belly.

She'd become her mother, in the worst possible way.

Not because of the wicked and wonderful things she'd done together this night, with Severin. No, finding she craved only the carnal would have been preferable to this .

A tear slipped down her cheek.

The irony wasn't lost on her. She'd spent her adult life disgusted at how her mother lived her life. She'd been repulsed at the details her mother kept of lurid acts she'd performed with men and women, all in an attempt to please her husband.

Now, Raina saw how love could break a woman.

At last, she understood and ached for what her mother had yearned for, and never experienced, in her union with Raina's father—true love. The kind of love where each person was enough for the other. A marriage where one who needn't change oneself into someone else, in a bid to have one's feelings reciprocated.

In her short, whirlwind relationship with Severin, Raina had also gleaned another truth—she was not her mother in another, very, important way.

Raina couldn't and wouldn't suffer such a cruel, tragic relationship. Her heart would be forever broken at not having Severin in the way she wanted him in her life, but she'd never settle for anything less than complete and total devotion and love from her husband.

There wouldn't be that mythical husband she'd dreamed of. For she'd already lost her heart to a stonyhearted earl, married to his career.

Another tear slipped free, followed by another, and she'd never been more grateful for the still and silence from him.

God, what would Severin even say if he knew all the thoughts roiling in her tortured mind? Or worse, if she professed her love?

Except, she already knew. He'd remind her they'd merely fucked, and he couldn't love. What was worse, he'd either revile or pity Raina for being the na?ve, romantic, fool who'd fallen for him.

A fresh onslaught of tears clogged Raina's throat and made it impossible to swallow. What had happened to him? What had made it so that he didn't believe himself capable of loving? Or maybe it was he didn't believe anyone could love him? Surely there'd been someone?

Surely…surely…surely, you're just desperate as to plant seeds of hope in a garden that cannot grow.

No. No. No.

Raina simply couldn't face him. How could she? How after doing something so foolish as to fall in love with him.

Severin concluded his gentle massage. Now, he stroked the top of Raina's head like she was a dutiful servant who'd pleased her master.

A panicky giggle bubbled past the emotion in her throat.

And in a way, isn't that precisely what you are where Severin is concerned?

Humbled and devoid of pride where he was concerned, she'd allowed him liberties she'd never allowed another, and for that matter, she'd performed acts with him and on him that she didn't ever want to do with anyone but him.

"Look at me, Raina," Severin urged, his voice husky, hoarse, and so gentle, fresh tears formed.

Oh, God.

Closing her eyes, Raina shook her head.

He'd been right that day they'd first met—Severin knew Raina's thoughts and the ones he didn't, he invariably ascertained, often, before even Raina herself knew what she was thinking.

She'd not survive the humiliation of his seeing how fast and how hard she'd fallen for him.

Only, being honest with herself, this vicious twisting at her heart had nothing to do with wounded pride.

No, when she lifted her eyes to his, she'd gaze upon a man whom she desperately ached for, in every way, and who'd never be hers, and who'd never want her in all the ways she wanted him.

I'm just like my mother. Just like her.

"I said look at me," he repeated, this time, harshly impatient.

Not even the king himself could deny such a decree.

Raina, in a futile bid to hide her misery, discreetly swiped the moisture from her cheeks, and then lifted her gaze to Severin's.

His hard, unblinking gaze instantly locked on her face. Anger flashed in his eyes.

Raina recoiled.

"I know what you're thinking," he purred.

Oh, God, this was unbearable.

A fresh sheen of moisture in her eyes further revealed her weakness.

With an animalistic growl, he reached for her.

Raina attempted to scramble away; needing space from him, needing to flee, to get as far away as possible from this room and his derision.

Alas, she was no match for Severin Cadogan in any way.

Severin hauled her from the floor and drew her, so her thighs were splayed on either side of his waist.

Still, Raina resisted, as she thrust and squirmed, his shaft grew hard and prodded the entrance of her woman.

Raina bit her lip hard as a warm rush of heat immediately flooded that place between her legs.

"D-Don't," she whispered, her voice catching. "P-Please."

She attempted to bury her face in his shoulder.

Severin, however, wouldn't allow her to hide. He drew her away just enough to pass his cold, punishing gaze over her face.

A terrifying anger burned from his eyes. "Do you think I'm going to force you?"

That's why he thought she pleaded with him?

Reeling from that discovery, Raina tensed as Severin, with a tenderness that belied his earlier tone, withdrew a handkerchief from his jacket, and lightly wiped the remnants of saliva and seed from around her mouth.

At his considerateness, Raina felt tears prick her eyes.

"I've already told you. I don't force women," he said bluntly.

Even as self-preservation urged her to let him believe his erroneously drawn conclusion, she couldn't.

"N-No," she said, her words muffled against his hot, slightly sweaty skin. "Of, course not. It's…just…it's…"

Raina renewed her struggles, and this time, when she hid her face against him, he allowed her shelter in his frame.

Severin, once again, proving to be a chameleon in every way, wrapped his arms about Raina and held her in a heart-wrenchingly tender embrace.

He pressed a gentle kiss against her temple. "I know why you're crying," he said quietly, and without judgment.

Her stomach muscles knotted. "Y-You do?"

She felt his nod.

"I do," he murmured, placing another kiss on her head, this time at her brow.

He did.

And he didn't sound horrified. He didn't mock Raina or give her blunt coldness.

Raina's heart thumped quickly.

Then, for the first time since he'd stormed into her life and she'd fallen hard and fast for him, hope kindled and blossomed in her breast.

Still shy that he knew, Raina edged slowly away from him. She draped her arms about his nape and met his gaze squarely.

"It happened so quickly," she began softly. "I didn't expect…" To fall in love so quickly. "I never thought I could…" Until him. "Or would—"

Severin took her lips in a gentle, but full kiss that silenced her ramblings and liquified her inside out. With a sigh, she surrendered herself fully to his embrace.

As he drew away with a palpable reluctance, Raina couldn't have concealed her boundless joy, if she'd tried.

"I thought you would be repulsed," she admitted, half-laughing, half crying.

His lips turned up in a charmingly crooked, grin.

"How could I ever be repulsed, love?" he murmured, the sough of his breath, soothing and warm against her skin.

Love.

His assurance, his endearment, brought her eyes sliding shut.

Raina's heart swelled. "T-Truly?" she whispered.

A chuckle rumbled from deep within his chest, and Raina's body shook under that gentle amusement.

Severin palmed her cheek, and with a dreamy sigh she leaned into his caress.

"You are a spirited, bold, clever woman, sweet," he said solemnly, and his profession sent a piercing warmth to her chest.

"I could never be disgusted at you for slaking your lust and being a generous lover," he said, his husky voice, filled with such warmth, it was a moment before his words registered.

Slaking her lust?

Her heart knocked hard and fast against her ribcage, and then that organ slowed to a dull, faint thud.

Being a generous lover?

She went cold inside.

This time as he seized her mouth, in a long, hot-blooded, she remained immobile. Raina couldn't have moved if she'd tried.

All the while she'd thought he'd gathered she loved him and not only accepted but embraced the fact, he'd taken her tears as signs that she'd been ashamed of having made love with him here.

I'm going to be ill.

"Even with all the naughty acts you enjoy, you'll always be my good girl," he breathed, between each glide of his tongue against hers.

His good girl.

Tears flooded her eyes.

God, what a bloody, dim-witted, pathetic, fool she was. Where everything they'd shared and done this evening had left her altered in every way, where Severin had been concerned, nothing could have been further from the truth.

As she'd feared all along, Severin, man of legend, so skilled in bed he'd seduced the secrets from the most experienced women, as part of his work to the Crown, saw what'd happened here as lust-filled exchange, and nothing more.

A low groan, born of the seeds of Raina's sorrow and watered with all that would never be between her and Severin, welled inside. And from her misery sprung an anguished sob.

Severin stiffened, and as he ended this, their last kiss, Raina didn't bother to keep her tears in check. For there couldn't be any more of this…or anything with Severin. She'd played with fire and gotten burned. Were she to continue doing so, all the pieces that made Raina, Raina, would go up in a conflagration that destroyed her forever.

All the life drained from her and she collapsed against Severin and wept all the harder.

He took her lightly but firmly by her upper arms and angled her back.

Even with her eyes blurred with tears, she caught the swirl of emotion in his dark-blue gaze he combed over her face: anger, frustration, and concern reflected back there.

"Raina?" he asked, his low, baritone steeped in worry.

This rare benignity he slipped in and out of, wrenched a sob from Raina.

Unable to reveal the depth of her despair, she sank her teeth into his shoulder to keep that cry from tumbling past her lips.

"What is going on, Raina?" he demanded, disquieted as she'd never believed he could be.

"Tsk. Tsk." An entirely too familiar voice sounded from the front of the room, cutting across Raina's misery. "I trust as the lady's elder brother, I am the one who should be asking that question."

No.

A sick sensation formed in her belly.

Gregory.

All Severin's muscles jumped under her.

Raina followed Severin's stunned gaze to the entrance of the room. Her brother lounged with his back against the ornate door panel. The tension emanating from his body, however, belied the casualness of his tone.

"I will say when I asked you to care for my sister," Gregory said coldly, "this is certainly not what I had in mind."

"Fuck." Severin surged to his feet. He angled himself away from Raina's brother and righted his trousers.

"Indeed," Gregory drawled. "Is that what happened here?"

"No!" Raina exclaimed, clenching her toes hard into the soles of her slippers.

While Gregory put his frosty attention on Severin, Raina rushed to right her own garments.

After she'd stood and shoved her crumpled and crushed skirts back into place, she found her brother's hard stare back upon her. A powerful emotion in those depths managed to slip past his rage-filled eyes—regret.

Raina curled into herself.

Oh, God, I'm going to die of mortification. Please, let me die.

"I'd ask what is going on," he said quietly. "Alas, the moment I discovered you gone, and your bodyguard missing, I'd already determined what was at play. And imagine my surprise when DuMond indicated he'd found two guests in this very hall, badly beaten, just coming to. He…happened to hear—"

Raina clamped her hands over her ears.

DuMond had heard her in the throes of passion with Severin?

Oh, God. And here she'd believed there could be no greater humiliation than falling in love with Severin Cadogan, only to discover just how very wrong she'd been.

Horror filled every corner of her humiliated and hurting being.

Wanting to hide, needing to hide, Raina took a step toward Severin.

Like a real-life Perseus evading Medusa, Severin practically bent himself backward to avoid Raina.

"The lady is a virgin," Severin bluntly stated.

In other words, he had no intention of marrying her. Numb, Raina stared vacantly at Severin. He needn't have worried. She would not enter into a union with a man who didn't love her. So why did a fissure form in her heart?

Instead of taking offense, Gregory appeared more amused than incensed.

"Ah, yes," he drawled. "I trust her maidenhead is intact, though had I not arrived when I did, I'm confident you wouldn't be able to make that same claim."

Raina shrunk into herself, wanting to disappear, feeling so very alone.

Alas, there was no sanctuary to be had.

Gregory spared Raina a brief glance. "Given the red, swollen state of her lips, however, and the way you were stuffing yourself in your trousers when I entered the room, can the same be said of my sister's mouth, Cadogan?"

Heat singed her cheeks. " Gregory !"

Raina may as well have saved her breath.

Severin pressed his hard lips into an even harder line.

Strangely, it was that silence that managed to reach Raina's brother. His expression grew serious, almost sad. "I didn't think so," he said quietly to himself.

Former assassin and duke stared one another down.

"Fix your neckline, Raina," Gregory snapped, without breaking eye contact with Severin.

Raina jumped. Hands shaking, she struggled to adjust her bodice.

From the corner of her eye, she caught a hardening of Severin's heavy jaw. Did he take offense at her being ordered about so?

Of course, you did. Just as you ascribed more to his having pummeled those crude lords in the corridor, and then again when he made love to you with his mouth.

"Given all, this ," Gregory swiped a hand between Raina and Severin, "a discussion is obviously in order."

She'd rather snatch out her own eyes than speak to Gregory about this. Nonetheless, she nodded.

"I'd expect nothing less, Your Grace," Severin said, making it clear he'd been the true recipient of Gregory's demand.

Pain clutched at her throat, and she turned tear-filled eyes on Severin, even icier and aloof than when she'd met him in her brother's office. "I am s-sorry," she whispered. "I am s-so sorr—"

"Come, Raina," Gregory barked. He held an elbow out. "It is time to leave. You've had enough fun for this evening."

As she hung her head and approached her brother, she held her breath—foolishly, naively, desperately, willing Severin to call out. Wanting him to stop her overbearing brother and lambaste him for the crude jibes he'd made at Raina's expense.

Except, Severin didn't so much as exhale an audible breath.

What did you expect ? Since her Come Out, Gregory had started seeing her not as a person, but a pawn to be moved about his game board of power.

And Severin? From the start, and at every turn, he'd told Raina she was less than nothing to him.

She bowed her head.

As she and Gregory quit the room and Severin remained behind in that space where she'd owned her feelings for him, that fissure at last, gave way, splintering into a thousand, different, jagged cuts about her heart.