“We didn’t have time. You can’t know everything. Sometimes you’ve got to take a chance.”
She fell silent. Then she took a deep breath and looked up at Stephen, her breath warm against his face. “Especially at times like these.”
She leaned forward and kissed him.
***
As long as it had taken Mina to work up her nerve, as much as she’d hesitated at the last moment and almost backed down, that first kiss wiped away all of her remaining reservations in an instant. She clung to Stephen, every nerve in her body rejoicing at the strength of his arms around her and the heat of his mouth on hers.
If the kiss had caught him off guard, he didn’t show it. He met Mina’s invitation with equal parts skill and hunger. Already aroused by his nearness and by her wish to distract herself, she quickly found herself aching for more and welcoming the pressure of his body as he pulled her against him.
When Stephen’s hand found her breast, she whimpered and arched up against him, not-so-silently begging him to continue. Another time, such a blatant display of need might have embarrassed her, even through her desire. Now it didn’t matter. She and Stephen were alone together. They’d be alone together for a while, in the dark. Nothing counted. And the way he stroked her breast, then the harder pressure of his fingers on her nipple, felt so good she couldn’t have stopped herself anyhow.
Stephen certainly didn’t seem to mind. His organ pressed against her thigh, hard and insistent, and when Mina arched upward, the friction made him groan and thrust forward. She tilted back, glad to go, eager to have their bodies line up properly for once, and—
“Ouch!”
The edge of the step had caught her in the spine. The pain wasn’t very bad, but it was unexpected enough and in the right location to make her cry out.
Stephen pulled back instantly, though he kept his arms around her. “Are you all right?”
His touch was gentle now, with no urgency, and Mina could sense how much effort that took. “Yes,” she said, “but I think we should move up to the landing.”
She started to get up, but Stephen clasped her hands in his before she could rise. Despite the darkness, she felt his gaze on her face, searching and intense. “Mina,” he said. “Are you sure of this?”
“Yes.”
Mina spoke without thinking, but she knew that further thought would have led her to no different conclusion. She’d read George’s journal and Colin had confirmed what it had said: there was nothing for her to fear in the way of consequences. And even if they defeated Ward and she could go back to her life, she knew she’d never find anyone else like Stephen.
If they didn’t defeat Ward, he might well kill them both.
One way or another, this opportunity would never come again. Mina discovered that she didn’t want to die—whether at twenty-seven or seventy-two—without lying with this man.
“I’m very sure,” she said.
“Then I’m honored.” His lips brushed hers, gentle and brief. “Wait here a bit.”
“All right,” she said, half laughing, and waited with her hands in her lap, feeling the yearning in her body as a sure and pleasant thing. This was good; it would take her somewhere better yet. For the moment—there was the moment.
Then Stephen touched her on the shoulder. When she rose, he took her hand and led her up to the landing. “You could lie down,” he said, “if you’d like.”
When Mina lowered herself to the floor, she found that the surface beneath her was soft. Exploring with her hands, she made out the outlines of a coat and a shirt, laid out in some approximation of a bed, and a waistcoat folded for a pillow.
“Kind of you,” she said. “No trousers?”
Stephen’s laughter washed over her. “I’d like to have some control of myself,” he said and cupped her face to kiss her again.
The equilibrium she’d been holding steady spilled over again, and desire flooded through her in a second. Mina let Stephen guide her to the floor, and as he worked the buttons on her dress, she ran her hands over his bare skin. She trailed her fingers through the hair on his chest, then brushed a fingertip across his nipple and heard his quick and frustrated inhalation.
“You’re not making this task of mine easy,” he said, half growling.
Mina laughed. “Should I stop?”
“Nae. I’ve always liked a challenge,” he said. With that another button came open, and Stephen slid his hand inside her dress, where the hooks of her corset proved considerably easier.
Then he slid downward, and Mina protested at first at the change in angle and the fact that so much more of him was out of reach. That didn’t last long, though. Not when he took one of her nipples into his mouth and let his tongue play across it. She wasn’t complaining at all then—she couldn’t even remember words to complain with—and then one of his hands was beneath her skirts, sliding up her leg to her thigh, up her thigh to—
Ohhhh.
