“Please,” I say, gasping. The ache between my legs is a torrent of want. I reach down, touch myself.
“No, I don’t think so.” She tugs my gown over my head, and twists it around my arms, binding me. “I’m going to give you what you want. But you must be a good girl and wait.” She leaves my side, opens a drawer in her bureau. I hear rustling, the sound of something being buckled, though the shadows hide her actions. “I have a surprise for you, my pet. Something I had made, just for you.” Her voice has shifted, grown darker. More masculine. I tense, my nerves quaking. She’s transforming. Changing.
Kate turns back to me. My eyes widen. Through the dim, I see a thick phallus between her legs, harnessed at her waist, its length curved slightly upward. She strokes it, as if the device is part of her body, her eyes locking with mine. She’s become Winthrop. Completely.
Fear and desire and fear and desire wrestle with one another. I cannot find words. I pull at my bonds, testing them. They hold fast.
“Look at you,” Winthrop growls. “How you tremble for me. How your body beckons.”
And god help me, he’s right. Iwanthim. Just as much as I wanted Kate only moments ago. I’m unsure of what it will feel like to be claimed by him, to surrender completely to a man, and that alone is as tantalizing as it is frightening—the good kind of fear, like jumping into a cold spring on a summer day. There might be rocks beneath the surface, unseen, but all the same, you jump, the exhilaration of having survived the fall the reward.
Winthrop runs his palms over my breasts, and my body responds ... eager for his touch. He lowers his face to kiss, suckle, and tug at my skin with his teeth. I arch upward as his fingers find my sex, as he teases me open and strokes me. “Are you afraid, sweet Lillian? Do you want me to stop?” he asks, biting the tender flesh of my belly.
“No,” I say, sighing. And I mean it, because in this moment, I’ve never felt more alive. “Please.”
“Good,” he murmurs. “Do you want me here, inside you?” he asks. His fingers move deeper. Testing me. Readying me.
“Yes,” I say, though a quiver of fear runs through me, remembering the girth of the phallus. Its length. Can my body withstand it?
I groan as his fingers retreat, leaving me empty, longing, aching to be filled once more.
“I’m going to take you now, my darling,” he says, settling over me. “You’re more than ready.”
My heartbeat ratchets higher as I feel the phallus prodding against my nether lips. Suddenly, its flared head slides into me in one deft, smooth motion. I gasp at the momentary pain of my claiming.
“There now,” Winthrop says, chuckling low. “You fit me so well. My tight little sheath. My sweet, wet cunny.”
He begins to slide in and out of me, in a slow, steady rhythm, rocking me out of pain into pleasure as I wrap my legs around him, eagerly meeting his thrusts. He whispers filthy, decadent things in my ear as he brings me nearer and nearer to the edge, as his pumpingincreases in urgency, shaking the bed. My nightgown untwists, freeing my hands from their bondage. I tangle them in his hair instead, rising up to kiss him.
As our lips meet, he scoops me up onto his lap, still inside me, and drives into me with a pistonlike fervor as I grip his shoulders and cry out, my crisis breaking over me. To my surprise, his breath quickens in concert with my own, and with a loud groan, he grasps my waist and buries himself to the hilt inside me. I smile, knowing what that deep groan means, and trace my tongue along my lover’s throat, tasting the salty sweetness of sweat. Knowing my love, my darling, has reached the same heights as I have is the greatest pleasure of all.
Winthrop departs, and my Kate returns. She lays me down and holds me as I recover, gently kneading my belly as the waves of pleasure subside. “Did you like that?” she asks.
“Yes. It was thrilling, and a little terrifying, all at once. Did you? Like it?”
“Oh, yes. Couldn’t you tell? I’m eager to do it again.” She chuckles, propping herself up with her elbow and looking down at me. She’s satisfied with her artful mastery of my body, as she should be. She traces lazy circles over my bare skin with her fingertips. If I were a cat, I’d be purring. “Winthrop has utterly ruined you, though, I’m afraid.”
A pleasant soreness between my legs lingers, as a reminder of what just happened. “Being ruined isn’t so bad. I liked your surprise.”
“Came all the way from France,” Kate says. “And worth every pretty penny I spent. I knew you secretly wanted Winthrop to ravish you. I could see it in your eyes when we were acting. And then there’s Alex. I’d imagine he’s a more tender lover, but no less enthusiastic. Perhaps he’ll visit you next. Or sweet Varina. Who knows what new delights we might conjure?”
“How could I resist such a delightful selection of lovers? But you’re my favorite, Kate. Never forget that.”
“My god, Lillian.” She strokes my face, her eyes soft. “We’re perfect together, aren’t we? How lucky am I, to have something so beautiful.”
No one has ever called me beautiful. No one before Kate. I’ve never been wanted like this. Desired. I kiss her again, then lie back on the pillow with a contented sigh. My disturbing dream of Rebecca—and her warnings—fades from memory as the soft morning light caresses Kate’s long limbs. She wraps herself around me. “Don’t you dare leave me, Lil,” I hear her whisper as I drift back to sleep. “Never again.”
A Vampire’s Diary
Sophie
My hubris has once again gotten the best of me. I was too bold. Too careless. Always before, I’ve pursued those who trusted me. Who knew me, if only in passing. But Sophie and I shared only a single dance before I asked her to stroll with me in the gardens.
When I gave the signal for my man to attack, I wasn’t as cautious as I should have been. A servant witnessed the scene and alerted his mistress. The commotion that ensued forced me to flee before I could be assured of Sophie’s demise. I do not think she survived her wounding, but I cannot be certain. I am gripped with anxiety. If she was still able to speak after the attack, to describe the course of events, my name will undoubtedly be mentioned. There were too many people at the ball who saw me. Who know who I am. Lillian cannot be my scapegoat this time.
Lillian must die. And I must leave this city to begin anew, somewhere else.
Twenty-Two
