Chapter 9

Nine

Rose

The house was quiet.

I wasn't used to so much silence, even at night. It unnerved me and I twitched at every little noise as the hours progressed. My world consisted of voices behind walls and sounds through open windows, music from nearby saloons. Carriages and carts rumbling up the street. Hooves clattering on cobblestones.

This was an eerie stillness, one reserved for the wealthy.

The staff had been accommodating, just as Moore predicted. I expected judgment and scornful stares, considering the reason for my being here, but I'd received none. Merely friendly nods and deferential treatment. It was a relief, a welcome contrast to how I'd been treated back in Youngstown.

Then there were the "few items" Moore had ordered from Lord this was a man on a knife's edge, uncivilized and raw. It was heady, knowing I had done this to him, and I wanted to see him completely undone.

He placed his hand atop mine and angled his crown toward my lips. "Open."

At his rough command, I lowered my jaw and slid out my tongue. Moore dragged the head of his cock over my tongue, around and around, wetting the skin with my saliva. "God, you are exquisite," he whispered, sounding almost angry about the fact. "The most beautiful creature I've ever seen. I hadn't a hope of holding out against you."

He pressed onto my tongue, robbing me of the chance to respond, as his shaft tunneled into my mouth. I accepted the width of him, stretching, making sure to keep my lips over my teeth. He tasted like skin and man, and a hint of salty fluid coated my tongue. A pleased moan rumbled in my throat.

"Perfect," he murmured. "You are so damn perfect. Let me all the way in, my sweet Rose."

I took as much of him as I could, then he thrust up, giving me even more. "Fuck, that's nice," I barely heard him say over the sound of my own breathing. He stroked the top of my head. "Lick me, little kitten. Prove to me how much you want it."

This required no acting skills on my part. I did want him—desperately. Moore was rough and filthy, and he sparked a previously undiscovered part inside me, as if he were setting blaze to all the expectations and assumptions I'd ever held. Finding the strength to walk away tonight would not be easy.

I shoved all those thoughts aside and began licking him, bathing his length with my tongue. I gave him long swipes, as well as tiny flicks—anything to show my reverence, my devotion this one last time together. I worshiped him without shame. I captured the beads of fluid leaking from the tip, and I dug into the sensitive ridges on the underside. I dipped my head and nuzzled the heavy twin weights below. I used my breath and my lips on his balls to make his thighs tremble.

Slight pressure on my head forced me to stop, so I looked up at him. "It's time," he panted, eyes wild. "Suck me deep and fast. Hurry."

I slid him into my mouth and used the tightest suction I could manage, while my nails dug into his hips. He thrust up as I worked, his crown hitting the back of my throat every time. Then he held my head with both hands and began working up a rhythm. My eyes watered, but I kept my jaw wide, as wide as I could possibly manage, with my tongue scraping the bottom of his shaft.

A few additional deep strokes and he was panting. "I'm going to come," he choked out. "I can't— fuck! "

He began climaxing in my mouth, thick spurts that coated my tongue. His big body shook and twitched, but I clung to him, unwilling to let go until it was over. I swallowed and swallowed, drinking him down, my throat working to take everything he gave me, while I continued to watch him.

When he finished, I pulled off and tried to catch my breath, my head resting on his thigh. His eyes remained closed, but he petted my hair, stroking me affectionately. I was burning up, pulse pounding between my legs, my body demanding satisfaction once again.

Which was why I found it disappointing when he tucked himself inside his clothing and buttoned his union suit. "Come here."

I crawled up his body and settled next to him, my head resting on his arm. "Are you dressing to leave already?"

"No. I thought I'd stay here with you tonight."

Oh. I hadn't spent the night with a lover before.

"Are you disappointed?" he asked.

I tried to sound confident. "Of course not. I am curious, though, if you normally stay over with a woman you've bedded."

He turned toward me and slid a heavy thigh between my legs. One large hand settled on my hip. "I haven't bedded you."

"Semantics. You know what I mean."

"I haven't, no."

"Did you sleep in the same bed as your wife?" Most high society men didn't, from what I'd gleaned.

"She preferred to sleep alone."

"That sounds lonely. Did you love her?"

He was quiet for a moment, his chest rising slowly with his measured breath. "It was never about love. The match was a duty, nothing more. And we got on, never argued. There was a routine, a predictability about it that I appreciated. She wasn't passionate, but I tried to ensure she enjoyed our infrequent couplings. I thought . . ." He cleared his throat. "I thought I was doing everything right. I was honestly surprised when she demanded the divorce. I never planned for the marriage to end."

My heart twisted at the idea of Moore living such a colorless, boring existence with a woman who didn't appreciate him. He deserved laughter and love, someone to make him smile instead of frown. Someone to bring him picnics at work and shake up his life.

He stroked my spine with his palm, up and down, up and down, almost as if soothing me. I could feel myself growing tired. "You could have refused the divorce," I pointed out.

"My parents had a happy marriage. I foolishly believed I'd have the same. Keeping Eugenia trapped in a marriage she didn't want felt . . . cruel." He paused for a beat. "She said I was the coldest person she'd ever met."

Oh, my poor Moore . I angled to press a kiss to his jaw. "You don't seem cold to me, darling."

He bent his head and gave me a long lingering kiss on the mouth. "The newspapers were even worse. They called me every name in the book when the chorus girl took the stand and revealed all my supposedly sordid secrets."

"That's awful. Especially when you were doing this to grant Eugenia her freedom. What did they say about you?"

"They called me an adulterer and immoral. There were stories about orgies I attended. It was utterly humiliating. And why I'll never marry again."

I could only imagine how much a proud man like Moore had suffered through the public mudslinging. Though he had a gruff exterior, Moore was soft and sensitive underneath. "They're just words, Moore," I said quietly as I stroked a thumb across his cheek soothingly. "And you know they aren't true."

He kissed me again. "You sound as if you're speaking from experience."

"A bit, yes. Back in Youngstown, there was a boy. The mayor's son." Moore grew very still, but I stared at his chest as I spoke. "He was full of praise and sweet words. Chased me all around town one summer. He even gave me a promise ring. He claimed we would soon make it official and there was no reason not to anticipate the wedding night."

" Son of a bitch ."

Moore's curse produced a grim smile out of me. "Indeed, I haven't many nice things to say about him either, not after refused to marry me. Apparently, when a woman doesn't bleed her first time, she's not a virgin. He made sure to let everyone know."

"Oh, Rose. I'm so damn sorry."

I attempted to shrug, like I wasn't still hurt. "I expected the holy rollers to shun me, of course, but I never thought my parents would throw me out."

"They did? That's terrible."

"It was all too much for them. They needed to pretend I didn't exist."

"Don't defend them," he said quietly. "At the very least they should've supported you."

"You of all people are aware of how ugly public disgrace becomes." I toyed absently with the hair on his chest. "Not every parent is able to handle the weight of it."

He went still and I wondered what I'd said wrong. Was it about his parents? I leaned back to see his face. "Moore?—"

"The scandal with Eugenia. It killed my father."

My lips parted on a swift intake of breath. This couldn't be true. It was too horrible to contemplate. "What do you mean?"

"Halfway through the trial, when the newspapers sank their teeth into me, he dropped dead one evening. No warning, his heart just gave out."

"But that might've happened regardless. You can't know that the trial was the cause."

"You didn't see him in those few months. He was angry and so bitter. Disappointed in me. He tried to talk me out of it a hundred times. Said I was a stain on the family."

"Oh, darling." I moved closer and hugged him. "You did a very noble thing. I'm sorry you suffered for it."

He pressed his face into my hair and we stayed there for a long moment. "Tell me how you came to New York, how you became the great Rose O'Donahue."

"I had no money when I came to the city. Thankfully, I found a cheap room in a ladies' boarding house and one of the girls there sang in the chorus of a Broadway show. She made it sound so glamorous and easy. With her help, I auditioned for an upcoming show and they hired me on the spot."

"That's astounding. But then, you're immensely talented."

"Thank you, but it was about being in the right place at the right time."

"A little bit of luck, then," Moore said.

"Indeed. Someday I hope to find a way to help the girls pouring into the city to start new lives for themselves. So many are preyed upon by unscrupulous characters."

"Would you serve as a theatrical agent or a producer?"

"I'm not sure. Perhaps."

"I've no doubt you'll succeed in whatever you set your mind to." Moore yawned, then stretched his arms over his head. "You're quite remarkable, Rose."

My stomach dipped and swirled as I watched him move. Lord, but he was a sight, all solid bone and muscle, his hair rumpled from my hands. And his wife hadn't wanted him? Was she cracked?

If I had this in my bed every night?—

I swallowed that thought. I wouldn't have him except tonight. This wasn't an affair or a courtship, and I wasn't a mistress or a wife. We were two people enjoying a tiny bit of heaven in a split second of time.

That was all.

I waited until he drifted off to sleep before whispering, "I think you're quite remarkable, too."