Fascinated Page 13

  “Now.” Edward took her hand and kissed her palm, slowly, lovingly. “It is all very simple, my dear. You already know how good it feels when I touch you here.” He laid her palm against her own taut breast, covering her hand with his, moving it, squeezing and releasing so that she was massaging herself. Sweet pleasure suffused her. Alicia sighed and laid her cheek against his chest.

  “Yes, it feels good, doesn’t it?” he murmured. “You are so beautiful to see, lost like this in your pleasure. It will feel even better here.” He drew their hands down her belly, all the way to her damp curls. Her thighs parted, anxious to discover what new delights waited. “Oh, good, my dear Alicia, my lovely one. That’s it.” He ran her palm along the sensitive flesh of her inner thigh. She was hot there and she found her own skin almost as fascinating to her hands as his was, especially while his hand moved with hers. Especially with his eyes on her, watching, his hard cock stroking her other side, and his sweet, sensuous voice speaking so wickedly to her.

  “Touch your pussy.” His lips brushed her ear. “Stroke yourself. You know what to do. Show me how you like best to be touched.”

  She did know what to do, and when he laid her hand against her curls, her fingers began at once to toy with her soft, heated folds. Pleasure rippled up through her body and she groaned. Her head dropped back, but she was perfectly secure, supported by his rock-hard arm. She could stroke herself as hard and as fast as she desired. She would not fall. Edward would hold her safe. His thighs rubbed against her ass, his cock against her thigh. She could hear his harsh, hard breathing; she could feel the heat of him radiating through her flesh, mingling with her own fire.

  “Oh, yes,” she moaned.

  “Is it good, Alicia?”

  “Yes. Yes. I want…”

  “What do you want? Tell me.”

  “I want you…inside.”

  “Yes.” He drew the word out long and slow. “Yes, and you will have me. I will put my cock inside that lovely pussy and you will ride it as hard as you want. But first you must show me your pleasure.” His hand covered hers again, pressing her palm against her throbbing clit. She gasped and groaned as his fingers pressed hers deeper into her wet slit, right up to the entrance of her sheath.

  “Yes, you like that, don’t you, Alicia?” She moaned in answer and he pressed hard, thrusting her deeper into herself. She arched her neck, trying to reach his mouth for a kiss, but he was not there and she whimpered.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered wickedly into her ear. “All pink and flushed and hot, getting yourself ready for my cock. Are you thinking about my cock, Alicia?”

  “Yes!”

  “About my cock inside you? Where your fingers are now?”

  “Yes!” She sank her fingers deeper into her wet sheath, but it wasn’t enough to satisfy her need. It couldn’t be enough. What she truly needed, and desperately wanted, was his cock filling her.

  “I want you, Alicia. I want you so much, but first you must come for me. Show me how gorgeous you are when you come. Show me how you want me to fuck you.”

  She cried out wordlessly. Her hand moved faster. He’d removed his, and was stroking the curve of her belly and her thighs with his confident hands. The twin sensations were driving her mad. She could think of nothing but the heat and the friction, the pleasure of their hands and his flesh and gaze against her.

  “So beautiful. You’re so close.”

  “Yes,” she moaned. “Oh, yes.”

  “Now, Alicia! Come for me now!”

  His command undid her. All the pleasure flooding her burst free, sweeping her along with its current. Her body rocked and shuddered uncontrollably. Edward groaned. As the last hot waves of delight tumbled through her, he’d shifted them, lifting and turning her to face him. Now Alicia straddled Edward’s thighs and his hard hands spanned her waist. Her pussy squeezed and strained, and she felt the blunt tip of his cock stroke down her folds once, before he lifted her high and plunged her down onto him, thrusting up to bury himself in her slick, pulsing sheath.

  The redoubling of pleasure made her cry out loud. She arched her back. Her strength was utterly gone. She could not stand this. She was helpless in his hands, completely lost within the fever he had roused her to.

  “You can do it,” he murmured. “You can do it, my beautiful Alicia. Look at me.”

  She obeyed, opening her eyes to gaze into his, and what she saw there took the last of her breath away. Light and pure desire filled his handsome face, but it was mixed with wonder and even a kind of awe.

  “Breathe deep,” he told her. “Let yourself move with me.”

  She tried, but could draw in only a kind of ragged hiccup of a breath. But his laughing eyes encouraged her. Gradually, she felt her body and senses steadying under the new onslaught of delight brought by his cock thrust so deeply inside her, a sensation so overwhelming but so very much desired.

  “Edward.” Alicia wrapped her arms around his neck. Her thighs relaxed, her sheath relaxed, opening to the pleasure he brought. “Oh, my dear.”

  He smiled as she spoke the word and the mischief returned to his moonlight gaze. He thrust up a little harder, teasing her, testing her. It felt good, and the pleasure no longer frightened her. She welcomed it. He circled his hips underneath her. She could feel the motion causing his cock to stir inside her and stroke her sheath, unfurling delightful new sensations inside her. She wanted more.

  “Teach me to ride you,” she breathed. “I want to ride you hard.”

  “As my lady desires.”

  Edward pressed his hands firmly to her hips and buttocks, and he lifted her. Her breath hissed through her teeth as the motion drew his shaft out of her tight sheath, but he swiftly lowered her again, so he was deep inside once more. The friction was sweet. The way his hands clutched and kneaded her ass added wonderful spice. He lifted her again, and again, until she caught the delicious motion and her thighs began to move of their own accord, raising her up, bringing her down hard, seeking her own rhythm of pleasure.

  “Oh, yes. Oh, God, yes,” groaned Edward.

  His words went straight to Alicia’s core, burning away the last of her hesitations. Her body moved of its own volition, harder, faster, wanting only to take the full measure of her delight from him, conscious only of their bodies—his hard thighs between hers, his hands cupping her buttocks, but most of all his cock filling her.

  His mouth caught her nipple and sucked her deep. She cried out as his tongue circled her areola and his teeth nipped her. She tried to lift herself up, but this time, he forced her down, thrusting deep into her. Without warning she shattered, again, rocking wildly against his cock. Edward shouted and thrust, and now he was with her, the two of them a tempest tossed by their pleasure, voices crying out, spirits pressed as tightly together as their mouths as they slowly, slowly descended from the heights to which they had flown.

  Twelve

  It was something of a miracle that Carstairs was fully dressed by the time the bell rang to signal the arrival of Captain Smith and Lady Jane Lynne. He and Alicia had decided that after their recent, very pleasant exertions, they both needed something more than a cold-water wash. With equal amounts of trouble and laughter, they’d managed the cookstove and the copper boiler well enough to fill a hip bath with steaming water. Of course, since Alicia would not know where anything was, Carstairs had to bring her towels and soap. Then, because she had no maid to assist her, he’d had to help her out of her borrowed robe. What followed was highly enjoyable, but it had almost upset the bath, and his own dressing had been delayed by the need to get the water mopped up.

  Now Alicia stood beside him in the foyer wearing a morning frock of a pale peach color that seemed to him a little too tight across the bodice and hip, but he found he did not mind that in the least. Her hair was dressed much more simply than it had been yesterday. Carstairs thought she looked radiant, but he was aware of a certain bias on the subject. She was also very quiet.

  “You need ha
ve no fear, Alicia,” he said, laying his hand on the front door’s knob. “These are friends come to meet you.”

  “I know.” She lifted her chin. He felt she also knew, almost as well as he did, that their private idyll was at an end. Duty waited outside.

  Disturbed by his own reluctance, Carstairs made himself open the door.

  “Good morning, Carstairs.” Smith stood aside to let Lady Jane Lynne proceed him through the door.

  “Good morning, Captain, Lady Jane. May I present Miss Alicia Hartwell?”

  “Miss Hartwell, how do you do?” Lady Jane smiled as she moved forward to exchange courtesies with Alicia, but her eyes raked hard across Carstairs as she passed. Lynne’s prediction proved correct. His wife was not in the least pleased with how Alicia had been treated. “I daresay you do not remember, but we have met before.”

  “I believe so, yes,” Alicia replied, frowning. “Weren’t you in the household of the Duke of Clarence?”

  “Until quite recently, yes. Now I am married to one of the rapscallions who decided, quite without consulting cooler heads, to treat you so roughly. You may be sure, he has heard what I think on this point!” Lady Jane favored both Carstairs and Captain Smith with another hard look, but Carstairs thought he detected a softer light behind the lowering glare. He found he could well imagine the sorts of things Lynne had said and done to make up with his wife for his poor conduct.

  “For my part, I wish to apologize.” Captain Smith bowed to Alicia. “It was on my orders that you were brought here. I can only plead that it was done out of concern for your safety.”

  Which was true, but not wholly true. Edward felt his hands trying to curl into fists again, and forced them to relax. He had known this moment was coming. It was as well it had arrived now. He knew himself to be treading very dangerous waters with regard to Alicia. His inability to keep his hands off her this morning proved that.

  “Edward—Lord Carstairs—has explained something of the matter to me,” Alicia was saying.

  “Excellent,” replied Captain Smith smoothly. “Now, unless I am much mistaken, it is Lady Jane who would like a word with you, Miss Hartwell.”

  “Most definitely,” said Lady Jane.

  “Would you like coffee?” Carstairs asked, belatedly surfacing from his cold reverie to remember his role as host. “I’m sorry you’ll have to cope with my poor skills as a servant.”

  “No, thank you,” replied Lady Jane, to Carstairs’s relief. “You and the captain have a great deal to talk about. Miss Hartwell and I will do very well as we are in the parlor. I believe it’s this way?” She tucked her arm through Alicia’s and swept them both down the corridor.

  Carstairs conducted Smith in the opposite direction to his library. He found himself wishing, with uncomfortable furtiveness, he knew what Lady Jane intended to say to Alicia.

  “Don’t worry,” said the captain behind him. “Lady Jane is formidable, but she is loyal, and fair.”

  “Yes, sir,” answered Carstairs, a little abashed at how easy it was for his captain to read his thoughts. He let the captain precede him into the library so he could close the door behind them both.

  “How does Miss Hartwell this morning?” Smith asked.

  “Well, I believe.” Memory of her body under his hands, her moans and the intensity of her pleasure, swept swiftly through him. Carstairs busied himself with drawing back the drapes from the windows and French doors that overlooked the garden to let in the morning sunlight until he could set those intimate, and extraneous, thoughts aside. “She is still coming to terms with herself, now that the enchantment is broken, but she is adjusting quickly.”

  “And what are your impressions of Alicia Hartwell’s self?” Smith settled himself into the armchair beside the hearth and steepled his fingers.

  Carstairs had known he would face this question, but that did not make answering it any easier. He should have spent his time quizzing Alicia and learning what he could of her family and her past. Instead, he’d let himself get distracted.

  “She seems both strong of mind and firm of character,” he said. “I was afraid her long enchantment would have left her wits frail, but that does not appear to be the case.”

  “Interesting. But I believe you told Rathe you felt she struggled against the enchantment?”

  “Yes. That was my impression, even before I was able to begin assisting her.”

  “If she has fought her bonds, that may have had the effect of strengthening her mind and spirit, the way constant exercise will strengthen the body.”

  Carstairs had not stopped to consider the matter in this light. It might explain a great deal, including the intensity of Alicia’s passions. She’d admitted to spending a considerable amount of time seeking to understand attraction and love between men and women.

  “Or it might be she has not been so closely confined as we are being led to believe.”

  These new words fell against Carstairs like the cold ocean spray. He had to struggle to bite back an angry retort, and the shame that followed it. What was happening to him? One night with this woman and he was near to losing not just his composure, but the sense of duty that had guided his entire adult life.

  “With respect, sir,” said Edward, fighting to reclaim his sense of professional detachment, “I walked in her thoughts. I felt the enchantment. It was an abominable thing, and had dug deep into her spirit. I concur with Rathe’s assessment.” Which Captain Smith had most certainly heard by now. “This was not the work of a moment, or a thing that had been casually put on.”

  “Then we must return once again to the question of why it was put on at all.” He got to his feet. “May I see this amulet?”

  “Of course.”

  Carstairs had already brought the strongbox down to the library and placed it on the desk. He handed Captain Smith the key, and stood aside. Smith rested his fingertips on the box for a moment before he turned the key and opened the lid. Slowly, almost reverently, the captain lifted out the torn ribbon and its gold-framed brooch. Carstairs folded his hands behind his back to hide his clenched fists. He wanted nothing more than to throw the vile thing into the fire. Smith betrayed no such emotion. Instead, he carried the amulet over to the window where he had the full light. He ran his thumb over the cinnabar carvings and lifted his quizzing glass to examine the amulet minutely. Edward gritted his teeth and forced himself to be patient.

  “And Alicia Hartwell is indeed a Sorceress?” the captain murmured as he turned the amulet over in his fingers.

  “She is, and I believe she will prove to be a powerful one.”

  “Yes. It would hardly be worth the trouble otherwise, would it?” murmured Smith.

  “What is it, sir?”

  “Something I thought to be only a rumor. An old rumor at that.” Smith laid the brooch back into the strongbox. Carstairs tried to suppress his sigh of relief as the captain turned the key again. “It comes from back in Cromwell’s day, when so many magic workers were forced into hiding. I expect you’ve heard a few of the tales.”

  “My grandfather used to frighten us with the stories his grandfather told him.” Cromwell had not believed in the Fae, but he’d experienced the workings of human Sorcerers. His cold, Puritan heart had seen the Devil in their magic, and became determined to rid the Isle of Britain of them as he had rid it of its king. Carstairs remembered sitting on the rug beside Nick with the flickering firelight washing over them. They listened wide-eyed and terrified while their grandfather described the thudding of the Witchfinder General’s boots and the creaking of boards over top of a hidden cellar.

  “More than one magic wielder who went into hiding in those days never came out.” Smith’s face went hard. “Some never told their children the truth of their natures, or worse, they’d try to drive the magic out of the children altogether.”

  “Is that even possible?”

  Smith shrugged. “It was one of the stories, and given the terror of the times, I don’t doubt a few people tried. So
me may have even succeeded, but what harm it would have done to those children…” He didn’t finish. He didn’t need to. To remove the magic from a Sorcerer or Catalyst would be like blinding their very souls. “But there was rumored to be another possibility.” Smith tapped his quizzing glass against the chest. “A spell that would hide a Sorcerer’s magic from even themselves. It would bury the magic deep in the soul, where even Matthew Hopkins could not sense it, and he was one of the strongest Catalysts ever born. And I have been searching for that spell for a long time now.”

  “But, sir, why?”

  “Stop to consider, Carstairs, what a spell that can suppress magic might do in our battle against creatures whose very nature is magical. If we can study the construction of this amulet, learn its enchantment and how to wield it effectively, we might finally stand a real chance against them.”

  The possibility left Edward thunderstruck. If the Fae could be bound the way Alicia had been, they would be drastically weakened. There would be no chance of a Catalyst failing their Sorcerer the way he’d failed Nick, because an amulet did not need to be fed a stream of magic to work. It could not be fooled by glamour or seduced by beauty. Smith was right. This could change everything.

  “What else must we consider, Edward?” Smith asked him.

  Carstairs knew what his captain was doing. The question was a test to see if his mind was still clear. Smith needed to know Carstairs could still look at the situation with detachment and analyze all the possibilities. He needed to know Edward could still be counted on.

  He also knew his answer. “We must consider whether this is a weapon we’ve discovered, or a lure we’ve been handed.”

  “Just so, sir,” the captain replied. “Just so.”

  “Now, my dear, do sit and please make yourself at ease. You’re quite safe with me.”

  Lady Jane opened the door onto Edward’s pretty, powder blue parlor and Alicia followed her inside. She tried to move smoothly and not to look about her too much, as if she were already well acquainted with the house, but it was no good. She felt stiff and awkward, and was painfully aware her cheeks glowed bright red.