Her bloody hand curved around his cock and guided it to her, as she lifted on her toes. She raised a leg, settling it around his hips, and he groaned in desperation when he was unable to help steady her, to settle her in the right place, and she felt the tension rippling through his body. But Narcise had an arm around his neck, her ankle curved behind him, opening her legs so that he could fit into her. She was swollen and ready and with one measured thrust, she impaled herself against him.
Cale gave a sharp cry, echoed by her own gasp at the intense, brilliant pleasure.Oh my, oh my…was all she could think as every bit of awareness faded into a ball of heat that expanded as she moved against him, and he thrust smoothly, forcefully against her.
She wrapped her other hand around his neck too, fairly hanging there, and planted her feet against the wall at his hips so she could leverage herself within the pounding rhythm.
The ball of heat and pleasure grew and swelled until it filled her center, rolling into a great undulating explosion of pleasure that had her crying out, and then sobbing with relief and satiation as he shuddered his release against her.
She felt the tremors through her body, inside and against her, for a long time…and after awhile, she realized she was sliding down off him, her knees weak and her limbs loose and soft.
The wall was cool and smooth under her fingers, and she heard the faint clinking of the chains, the soft rasping breaths of his pleasure, and the stone floor beneath her toes.
After a long moment, she opened her eyes, stepping away from his warmth with a shameful little stagger. Her fingers trembled, but there was a warmth in her belly that had spread throughout and made her want to smile. And perhaps even to cry.
“Narcise,” he said after she’d stepped back and gathered up her tunic and breeches, then turned to pick up the dagger and to return it to the table: focusing on those mundane tasks instead of the tender emotions that seemed to be threatening.
There was an odd note in his voice and she looked over to see?—
“How did you do that?” she said. He was standing there, one of the manacles hanging free. A chill raced over her.
She didn’t need him to answer, for she realized that his free wrist was the onehe’dclasped inside the manacle. And that he must have connected it loosely or even not at all…so that he could?—
“You could have freed yourself at any time,” she said, needing to speak the words out loud in order for them to penetrate. As she watched, he reached over and unlocked the wrist manacle she’d connected. It wasn’t difficult: there was a small little pin that held it closed and could be adjusted by the size of the wrist. Her world had begun to tilt.
“You can trust me, Narcise,” he said.
Something unsteady bumped in her heart and a little coil of fear started in her belly. Her Mark twinged sharply. Now that he was free, now that she’d aroused his lust and shared some of herself with him, he’d take andtake?—
Narcise shook her head to force away the rising panic, and realized she still had the dagger in her hand, behind her back, and she gripped the hilt comfortingly. The blade was cool against her bare skin, but she shifted so that Cale couldn’t see it. She wouldn’t allow him to touch her. He’d promised.
By now, to her faint surprise, he’d pulled on his breeches, and then scooped up his shirt. “But of course I want to stay, Narcise,” he said, his voice very even and very low, his eyes penetrating. It was as if he could see the change in her emotion: from ease to terror. “However, I’m not going to impose my presence on you any longer; for the temptation to forget my vow is much too great. Particularly after…that.” The low rumble caught on that syllable and dropped even lower as he made a slight gesture toward the wall of chains. “But I’ll return. Until then, remember what I said.” His gaze held hers for a long moment, as if to nudge her thoughts.
Trust me.
It’s only you, Narcise.
Sometimes a man just knows.
She shook her head, more in confusion than negation. In an absurd display of betrayal, her body still hummed and the little knot in her quim still throbbed pleasantly even as she sifted through truths and lies, flattery and appreciation.
“Thank you,” he said softly. “I pray you are safe until we meet again,cher.”
And then he unbolted the door and slipped through, closing it tightly behind him.
6
Giordan closed the door behind him and walked only a few steps down the narrow, torchlit corridor before stopping to collect himself. His hands were bloody damned shaking and his gums were sore from thrusting their fangs uselessly. Lucifer’s Mark screamed with rage, radiating pain sharply through his body in affront for his sacrifice.
It had taken a good deal of control and prudence to turn and walk out of that room, and if he weren’t certain his every movement was being accounted for, he’d stand here longer.
He looked around, sharpening his thoughts to take in the details of his surroundings. Of course he’d passed through this same area some hours earlier, when he was following Narcise…but understandably, his mind had been elsewhere and he’d been in no state to absorb all the details. Unlike the chamber he’d just quit, this space was roughly-hewn stone walls and an uneven floor. Very different from the dining room that doubled as a fencing arena.
But of course he was already considering how to get Narcise out of this place. Yet, surely Cezar wouldn’t allow him free access—and, ah, yes, there it was. The sound of approaching footsteps. Someone had heard the door opening from some nearby vantage point, or there was some other notification that he’d left. Perhaps a bell that rang in an above-stairs chamber.
“Leaving so soon, monsieur?”
Giordan was more than mildly surprised to see the host himself striding toward him, bringing that patchouli and cedar scent into the narrow corridor. “Yes, indeed.”
“I trust that there were no problems, no concerns?” Moldavi asked, his eyes bright and his voice placating. “All was to your…liking?”
