Chapter 14

CHAPTER 14

F inn could hardly breathe as he drew Esme into his bedroom and reached behind her to shut the door. She put her back to him and turned the key, then flattened her palms against the hard surface with a shuddering sigh.

He stepped into her, wrapping his body around her from behind, tangling his fingers with her against the door as she rolled her hips against his.

She wanted him, that much was clear. She never hid it, never minced about it. It was fascinating and powerful to always know her desire that way. But beneath that desire, he also knew her emotions were still high. She had broken down out in the garden, allowing herself a grief that had torn at him like animal claws on flesh. She had protected herself so long, never allowed a moment to rest and feel.

He didn’t want to simply sweep her up in desire and not acknowledge that what she needed most, perhaps had needed for a very long time, was tenderness. Peace. God, how he wanted to give her peace.

He pressed his mouth to the back of her neck, tasting and teasing the soft curve there. She whimpered and her backside pressed to him more firmly, grinding against his already hard cock in a way meant to force him into a loss of control. It was tempting, but he ignored the throbbing needs of his body and continued to focus on her.

He reached around to the front of her body and found the first button at the bodice of her gown. He slid it free, then the next, then the next. Enough that he could slide a hand into the warmth trapped between her skin and the fabric. She whimpered as he cupped her breast, massaging and stroking the delicate flesh.

“God, just lift up my skirt and fuck me,” she moaned.

He removed his hand from her gown and gripped her shoulder, turning her so her back was to the door. He leaned in, caging her there, his mouth close to hers.

“No,” he said firmly.

Her eyes went wide just as he kissed her, slowly, deeply, savoring her and not allowing her to rush, even as she tried to force his hand by sucking his tongue and grinding up on him. He pressed her back more firmly against the door and she made a little sound in her throat, frustration and desire mixed.

He ignored it and went back to work on the remaining few buttons along the front of her gown. When it was open wide enough he parted the fabric and looked down. The chemise beneath was worn and threadbare and she blushed at that revelation.

He didn’t address it, but slid his hands beneath both the shoulders of her gown and the straps of her chemise and slowly lowered them at the same time. She lifted her gaze to his and held there, her breath short as he peeled the fabric away and bared her from the waist up.

He’d seen her like this before, of course, many times. But he was still dumbstruck by her beauty. By the perfection of those curves. He let her gown dangle at her hips and slid his fingers up her sides, tracing her ribcage and then cupping each breast.

She tilted her head back against the door with a little thud and let out a soft moan when he stroked his thumbs over her nipples. He kissed her as he caressed there lazily, tracing the hard peaks while he stroked his tongue over hers. She was still tense, making every effort to maintain control, but he could feel her wavering.

He drew his mouth away from hers, kissing her jawline, her throat. He sucked there and she lifted her hips. “Please.”

He ignored the plea and nuzzled lower, tasting her collarbone, drawing between the valley between her breasts. Only then did he move to her right breast and gently suck.

Her fingers came into his hair, gripping there as she gasped with pleasure. He sucked a little harder, scraping his teeth gently across the flesh. The gasp became a whimper.

“Please,” she repeated, but this time more softly, with less demand.

He continued to ignore it and instead tugged her dress, letting it fall to the floor in a pile before he slipped an arm beneath her knees and lifted her into his arms.

She wrapped her arms around his neck with a laughing gasp that he swallowed when he kissed her as he carried her to his bed. He laid her there, on his pillows, her red hair coming down on the stark white, and stared.

“You are so beautiful,” he murmured as he crawled up beside her, placing one hand on her stomach and gently stroking her there.

She pulled him to her, kissing him once more, but her kiss was desperate and needy, still laced with tension. He almost laughed at her repeated attempts to regain control. She was a fighter at heart, he knew. Built to grab the upper hand and save herself.

But he wanted to save her. At least in this, at least today, he wanted her to be able to surrender. So he slowed the kiss, probing more deeply, gently until her hands released from their fists in his hair and she whimpered his name in the quiet.

Then he started on his path again. Down her body, licking and kissing every inch of skin he touched. He sucked the nipple he had left untouched at the door and she arched now, mewling out wordless sounds of pleasure that drove him wild. This was a test of his control as much as hers. He intended to pass that test.

He let his mouth drift lower, kissing her ribcage, her stomach. She lifted her hips, widening her legs, a silent demand. He continued on his own path instead, tracing his tongue over her hipbone even as his fingers pressed into the softness of her backside.

He moved lower, but not to the pussy she had spread out so temptingly before him. He could scent her desire and see it on the dewy folds, but he was in no rush. Celebrating her was the goal here, not simply slaking mutual desire like they were unthinking animals.

He kissed along the crease where her leg met her hip and then into her inner thigh.

“Finn,” she gasped, lifting again to demand action. He laughed against her flesh and instead moved lower. Her stockings were held up by pretty garters and he caught the ribbon of them with his teeth, looking up at her as he tugged and loosened the bow. It fell away beneath her and he kissed the edge of the fabric. She twisted beneath him, hands fisting in the bedclothes. He pushed the stocking down, following the path with his lips. She had a hard edge to so much of her, developed as protection to a harsh world that had hurt her. But her skin was still silk. He tasted every inch, moving his lips over her knee, down her calf, against her ankle until he dropped the stocking over the edge of the bed.

He followed the same path back up her body, cupping the back of her now bare knee, kissing his way without any hurry. Then he shifted to her opposite leg.

“You are driving me mad,” she burst out, and sat up, reaching for her garter to rush him along.

He laughed and swatted her hands away. “That’s the point, my dear. And you will lie there and let me.”

Her lips pursed and he could see how much she wanted to argue. To retain control. If she pushed, he’d allow her to do so. But he hoped she wouldn’t. That she would let him.

Their eyes held for a long moment and then she flopped back with an exasperated grunt and threw her arm over her eyes. “Fine. Do as you will.”

“Oh, very erotic,” he teased. “Let me see if I can make you say that in a much prettier way.”

He leaned in and licked her thigh, just above the garter, tracing the line of silk ribbon with wet heat.

“Fuck,” she gasped.

“No,” he said, and licked again. “The same thing you said before.”

“Do as you will,” she moaned. “Anything at all.”

His cock throbbed at her surrender and he untied the ribbon and kissed his way down her leg to remove that one, as well. As he discarded it, he rose up on his knees, looking down at her. She was naked now, spread out on his bed, eyes closed, breasts rising and falling with shallow breaths. And oh, God, how he wanted her.

She opened her eyes and looked at him. Her expression wasn’t teasing, though, it wasn’t playful or in control as it had been the other times they’d done this. There was something different about it.

“Anything, Finn,” she repeated, softer and with a waver. “Please.”

He nodded. He couldn’t deny her. He stripped out of his clothing, tossing each item off the bed without giving a damn where they landed or the shape they would be in later. She watched through a hooded glance, and he loved how she responded to him. The way she licked her lips like he was some treat.

When he was as naked as she was, he placed his hands on her thighs, widening her further as he lowered himself, rubbing his cheek on the tender flesh, drawing in a whiff of her desire for him. She smelled so good, he wanted to drown in that scent. He wanted to make it part of him.

He pressed his thumbs to the outer lips of her sex and she gasped and lifted to him. He spread her open and then licked her, gently at first, just tasting her, slipping along the line of her and enjoying how she moaned. He took his time, learning every part of her, tasting her desire increase, feeling her thighs quiver when he swirled his tongue around her clitoris. Oh, he wanted her to come. Yes, he did. But he wasn’t going to rush, no matter how mad she drove him.

So he didn’t. He took his time, teasing, edging her to the brink and then backing away from her clitoris. Over and over he built her heat then let her cool, and all the while he devoured her and reveled in her taste and the feel of her dripping against his chin. She was remarkable and wild and oh, so responsive as she rose with him, rocked with him.

She was shaking now, even when he backed away from her clitoris, her breath almost nonexistent. But the tension, at least the nonsexual type, had bled away from her.

At last he swept his tongue over her in earnest, stoking the flame of her pleasure instead of just teasing it. She rolled against him, her head thrashing against the pillows, and then she went stiff and he felt the waves of her pleasure against his tongue. He drew her through it, holding her hips tightly, never letting up the torment as she jerked beneath him.

It was only when she went weak that he relented. He sucked her one last time, then traced a path up the apex of her body, covering her for a kiss. She dug her fingers into his hair, stroking her tongue over his like she was savoring the flavor of her pleasure.

She locked one leg around his hip and his cock fell into place, notching against her sex like it was made to do so. He drew back, holding her gaze as he shifted his hips and took her slowly. Her sex still fluttered as he glided inside and dropped his head to her shoulder with a little moan of his own.

“Is it my turn to torment you?” she whispered, some of the wicked confidence back in her tone.

He laughed against her neck. “You torment me just by existing, Esme.” He drew back and thrust. “You haunt my dreams. I wake up sweating, hard as stone and wanting you.” Another thrust. “I touch you and I’m lost.” Another. “I want to learn all the ways to make you gasp and cry out.” Again. “You drive me mad and I never want it to stop.”

She lifted against him as he spoke, their bodies grinding with every thrust. Her pupils dilated every further, her fingers dug into his shoulders. He kept thrusting, slow and steady, wanting more of her, all of her. And she gave it, almost levitating off the bed as her already sensitive body fluttered with pleasure a second time.

The grip of her was almost too much. It streaked sensation up his cock, into his balls, through every nerve ending, across every inch of his body. He was, as he had said, lost to her. Lost to this. Lost to them. Normally that would have terrified him. He wasn’t a man who gave control with any more ease than she did, but with her it was impossible not to surrender. He rocked harder, faster, loving how her thighs gripped him, how she moved with him like powerful ocean waves. They crashed against each other with growing intensity, their mouths meeting and clashing, tongues tangling until he couldn’t find where he ended and she began.

With a powerful burst of wild pleasure, he managed to withdraw and spent while her fingers tangled with his and they stroked his sensitive cock together. When he was finished, she lifted his hand, licking his fingers, whimpering with continued pleasure until he dropped down to kiss her and their legs and arms entwined in peace at last.

When he rolled on his back, she followed, half covering him, kissing his throat, tracing his chest with her fingers. He had no idea how long they lay like that, quiet in the dying firelight in his chamber, basking in the glow of sex and pleasure and connection. Not just physical, but deeper. He knew it was deeper. It didn’t even take him off guard anymore.

“You know I found my way into your ballroom when I was exploring your home earlier,” she said at last.

He looked down at her, stroking her hair away from her lovely face. “You were exploring?”

“You said I might.”

“Yes, and I meant it. Did you like the house?”

She laughed. “How could anyone not? It’s beautiful. One could tuck themselves away in any parlor or other chamber and just live comfortably forever.”

He took in a shaky breath at that idea. That she might fit herself into the life he’d built. Forever .

“The servants have been busy in the ballroom preparing for Marianne and Sebastian’s engagement soiree,” he said.

“Yes. It’s beautiful in there. It will be a magical event, just as your sister deserves,” Esme said. “I realized I’d never been in your ballroom. Not even before I ran away. It has those lovely little observatory balconies.”

Finn swallowed. He wasn’t about to tell her how many assignations had been had in those balconies over the centuries. He could picture having her there now, her trembling fingers wrapped around the balcony edge, her body flush against his as he took her. They would both try to be quiet as people gathered below, completely oblivious to what wicked things were happening just above their dancing heads. God, how he wished he could.

“Yes. They’re rarely used now, but they add a bit of whimsy to the room, I think.”

“They would also make a very good place for a person to hide during an event. To observe without being seen.” She smiled at him broadly, as if she were proud of herself for this thought.

He wrinkled his brow. “I suppose. Who would be spying on an event, though?”

“Me,” she said. “When I attend your sister’s ball, I could sit unseen up there and observe my cousin myself. It would be perfect, Finn.”

He sat up and stared at her. The idea that she would potentially endanger herself by being exposed during his party made a cold hand of terror wrap around his heart. He shook his head. “No, Esme. Absolutely not.”

I f the moments after they made love had been lazy and calm, now Finn’s face twisted with emotion that put Esme immediately on guard. His tone was tense, unbendable as he utterly refused her very good plan.

“What do you mean no ?” she asked, sitting up herself and staring at him.

“I mean it would never work. What if you were recognized either by your cousin or by some other person who knew you before? The circumstances surrounding your disappearance were and remain of great interest. If you reappeared there would be no keeping it secret. He would find out.”

She tilted her head. She’d initially thought he was just being heavy handed, but now she could see that wasn’t it. Finn looked…afraid. For her. This was about protection. Who had last offered her such a gift? It had to have been Jane and Ripley. But this felt different. It felt wonderful and terrifying all at once.

“I wouldn’t be out in the middle of the ballroom filling up a dance card, Finn. I’d be hidden, as I said. I could even be disguised.”

He caught her hands and held them gently, but firmly. His gaze was the same, locked on hers, willing her to bend to his demands. “Esme, I don’t think you understand?—”

She pulled away and got out of the bed. She grabbed for her dress and held it up before herself, shielding her nakedness and wishing she could do the same to cover the emotions that bubbled up in her. Ones she couldn’t share with someone like him. With anyone.

“ I don’t understand?” she snapped. “Do you forget yourself? You can speak to simpering misses in such a fashion, but not me. I’ve experienced far more danger in my life than you could imagine.”

He took a long breath and she saw his sorrow for her softening his frustration. He got out of the bed, doing nothing to cover the beautiful body that had so pleased her just a little while before.

“I know,” he said. “I apologize. When I say this, it isn’t to dismiss your experience. I know you have seen and done things I couldn’t fathom.”

Did he judge her for those things? She couldn’t fully tell so she folded her arms and lifted her chin.

He continued, “You’ve been through so much. My true fear is that you might be so focused on your hopes to uncover the truth about whatever your cousin’s involvement in your father’s death that you won’t think of your safety. One of us must think of your wellbeing if that’s the case.”

She blinked. He was saying he would tend to her wellbeing. That he would protect her even if she refused to protect herself. But she couldn’t depend on that offer. It wasn’t real and it certainly couldn’t be long lasting. If she learned to lean on him, it would make standing on her own so much harder when he was long gone and on to more appropriate lovers and loves.

“My safety isn’t your concern, my lord,” she said softly. “Not truly.”

He stared at her for a moment, his expression hardening with that dismissal. “Perhaps it’s not at that. But I’m telling you that you will not come to this ball, Esme. You will not use my home to endanger yourself when I’m perfectly capable of handling my end of our bargain.”

She set her jaw, but he had done the same and so they stared at each other, two stubborn people unable to bend toward each other when they were both equally certain they were right.

“So that is the end of the discussion?” she asked.

He nodded. “Yes.”

“Very good, my lord,” she said, and pulled her chemise from the tangle inside her gown before she tugged it over her head. “Now if you will allow me to dress, I’ll be on my way.”

His nostrils flared slightly and for a moment she thought he might argue. He might continue this conversation or ask her to stay. Soothe things with his kiss and his hands and his body.

Instead he inclined his head. “As you like. Let me arrange for your transportation back home.”

He left then, shutting the door behind him none too gently. She huffed out a breath, but the anger she had expressed didn’t last. She tried to cling to it, but it was replaced by sadness. Defeat.

And also an intense determination to do whatever it took to obtain resolution to this matter. Even if it meant defying the man who had just spun her world off its axis.