She glanced at him with a curious brow. “That was rather… fascinating.”
He would have laughed if he’d had the ability to do so but he was entirely too replete. He reached out and laid a hand on her cheek. “Why did you do that when I told you to stop?”
She offered a shrug. “I have heard others talk about a man’s pleasure, and the following result, for years. I thought it was time I experienced it for myself.”
His nostrils flared as he reached for her. “I hope you do not think that is the end of this little interlude. I would be terribly remiss if I did not offer you the same courtesy.”
“If you think I did not just enjoy?—”
Her words were silenced as he slid a finger along the wet seam of her sex. She was still sitting on her knees at the edge of the bed. “You were saying,” he murmured huskily.
Her eyes were pools of emerald fire. “I?—”
That was as far as she got before he began to rub her in rhythmic circles. “Time for you to experience madness.”
Her lips parted, her cheeks turning red as her hands reached out to clutch onto his shoulders. His focus traveled up and down her form, from the exposed breasts moving in time to his ministrations to the apex of her parted, silky thighs that he wanted to sink into. His tongue or his cock, he wasn’t sure which part of his anatomy wanted her more. He decided he would be content with either and was about to replace his fingers with his mouth when she started to moan louder. He worked her faster, his middle and forefingers sliding into her passage while his thumb continued to press against her clit.
When she reached her peak, Cordell was humbled. He was sure he’d never witnessed anything more miraculous in his life. The passion and abandon with which she gave herself over to the pleasure was not something he could put into words. She was enchanting, beautiful, and he felt honored to be the man to show her such carnal delights.
When she started to calm, he reluctantly removed his hand, clenching it as his side. He wanted to lie her back and finish the deviltry they had started but he had the ability to think clearly, whereas she was still floating on a haze of carnality.
“It is getting late. You should get some rest.”
Her eyes were heavily lidded, but at his words, they focused clearly. Her green eyes lit on him with something he did not want to comprehend. “You are going to leave me? Now?”
He clenched his jaw. “I am trying to be honorable, Aislynn. Do you really want to take things further than they have already gone and not be able to look me in the eye in the morning because of what it might mean?”
She paused. “What are you talking about?”
He didn’t want to be so direct but she was leaving him no other option. “We cannot take the risk of you becoming with child and if things progress to their natural point, that is a definite possibility.”
“Do you not know how to prevent such things?” she asked.
“Nothing is completely preventative,” he returned evenly. “You know I should like nothing more than to stay and keep you up for the rest of the night but it is impossible. If something were to happen, I cannot be an honorable gentleman. I told you about my past. It is not something I care to duplicate and there is the threat that my father’s madness will pass along to me—to any offspring that I might have. I vowed long ago not to become a father and I intend to remain true to that promise.”
She looked at him steadily and then she nodded with apparent resignation. “You are right, of course. I understand completely. It is not as though I am eager to replicate my own childhood.”
Cordell was relieved, although he tried to keep his expression neutral. “I am glad we can reach an accord on this matter.” He held a finger under her chin and offered her a light kiss. “It is not as though we cannot enjoy each other’s company, as we have this evening, but I can never offer the full extent of my body. You understand that?”
She looked at him curiously. “Have you never been with a woman intimately before?”
He smiled slightly. “I have performed everything but the final act, if that is what you are asking. This is something I have always been highly adamant about, with all of my past lovers. As much as I might admire you and how much I might vow to protect you with everything that I have within me, that is the one thing I cannot ever give you.”
The next morning, Aislynn awoke early and sat in a chair by the fire, watching the dying embers fade into oblivion. There was a chill to the room that paled in comparison to the ice around her heart.
She had not been anticipating such a candid conversation with Cordell last night, nor his shocking admission that he had never truly lain with a woman before. He was as much of an untried as she was and she couldn’t quite grasp that revelation. Cordell was such a virile man with a strong passion and to see that wasted on the slight possibility that he might inherit his father’s madness was incomprehensible. It was thrilling to think that their affair might progress further than it had ever gone before, but since he had never allowed it by now, she doubted that he would offer to change his mind.
If she was honest with herself, she ought to be thankful to Cordell for having such a sound mind. She was being the nonsensical one, desiring a tete-a-tete with him when she had been adamant that her own heart and body should remain undisturbed. She did not want to see herself working in a brothel like Spades, and yet, she discovered that when it came to being with Cordell, all of her firm ideals seemed to wither into dust. He had the power to disrupt her entire world and she was accepting of it with open arms—and legs.
She shook her head, determined to make her way to the theatre to dispel her mind of anything further than the prospect of a full auditorium. She had long dreamed of a sold-out performance where she was the center of the entertainment. She was well on her way to becoming the star she’d always yearned to be, to make something of herself. She must remember that nothing else mattered but her adoring assemblage.
Gathering her sewing supplies from her valise, which had appeared in her chamber, Aislynn withdrew the small miniature of her mother and set it on the small bedside table near the bed. She frowned as she stared into the face of the similar likeness, as if she were looking into a mirror image of herself a decade earlier. But that was not why she kept it. It stayed close to her as a continual reminder of how far she had to fall if she did not succeed in winning over the hearts of London society. The woman in the portrait had nothing but drink and anger in her life and Aislynn swore long ago that she would not find herself at the mercy of the same. True, life was not always fair and presented insurmountable challenges but she did not intend for those days to get the best of her. The deaths of her friends and fellow actresses were a constant flash of memory in her mind but she refused to be ruled by fear and to ensure that their deaths were not in vain. She would honor the lives that were stolen from them by doing her utmost to live life on her own terms.
Setting her needle to the ruined sleeve of her dress, Aislynn quickly repaired the damage. The next step would be to wash it thoroughly to rid herself of the sordid encounter of that night. For now, she set it aside as she withdrew another one from her valise. Hanging up the rest of her meager belongings in the empty wardrobe, she wrinkled her nose at the lack of adornments that were there. Her dressing room was full of lovely gowns and costumes for numerous performances but those were the property of the theatre. They did not belong to her. But, with any luck, she would soon have the money to buy whatever she wanted. She would be able to walk into Bond Street and be fitted for any number of fashionable dresses and easily afford every single one.
Donning her simple, gray woolen dress, she wound her hair into a simple chignon and slipped her feet into her stiff boots and headed for the stairs.
On the way, the door to “The Wolf’s” room opened and one of his cohorts walked into the hall. He spied her and offered her a stiff greeting. “Good morning,” she murmured, hoping that might be the end of the conversation. She wasn’t certain why the patient inside and his three loyal followers set her on edge. Perhaps because she knew they were men not to be trusted.
