She gave him a pointed look.
“You’ll have to be specific, Marietta.” Laughter bubbled within him.
Her eyes narrowed, and the next thing he knew, her lips closed around him and she took nearly the entire length of him into her mouth. His body bent backward without his consent, all laughter strangled. Her mouth pulled back up, a strong press of tongue to his underside, and he thought, quite possibly, the world was about to end.
He reached for her, but she slapped his hands away, entangling her fingers with his and pinning them to the sides of his head. “Now, now, you did say I was in control, did you not?”
The motion brought her over the top of him, and she jumped a bit when their lower bodies connected. They weren’t in perfect alignment, like every cell in his body called for, but they were close to it. Too close. She looked down his body, her hair tickling his throat. He knew what she would see—his body at complete attention, glistening, straining upward. When her eyes drew back to his, he could see the knowledge, the desire, written on everything from her darting eyes to her moistened lips. Her right leg slid over his so she was straddling him. He barely heard her quick intake of breath as he slid along her heat, his own quick breath nearly drowning hers.
She repeated the motion so that he slowly slid along her, the motion slow and teasing. He gritted his teeth and pushed his hips as far into the bedding as he could, his body screaming to thrust up inside her, to make her wail and scream his name, to claim her once more.
She continued to hold his hands hostage and to rub against him. From the rose blooming in her cheeks, he wasn’t sure just who she was teasing more. One movement aligned them perfectly and he nudged, just an inch, an innocent look on his face when her head snapped up. Her eyes sparked and she kissed him, sinking down another inch. He returned the kiss and pushed his hips up, just a tiny bit so as to not attract attention. She drew back.
“No, no, no, Gabriel. I’m going to earn that prime spot in your harem.” She leaned down and flicked a tongue over the lobe of his ear as he had done to her many times. Dear God, had she paid attention to everything he’d done? Returning all of his seductive actions and words. “Three nights of sin and more.”
She swirled her hips.Ungh. Something unintelligible burst from his lips.
Confidence fairly radiated from her. Confidence, passion, and other emotions he dare not name. A drink mixed with the most potent ingredients for seduction.
Her swirling hips lowered her farther still, and the color fairly burst from her skin. Soft, breathy air escaped her parted lips. She freed his hands and planted hers above his shoulders.
“Touch me.”
Her lips hadn’t finished forming the words and he was reaching for her breasts, his thumbs rubbing circles that made her body shift madly and sink farther down. She pulled up an inch and the muscles inside her contracted around him.
“Mari—Bloody—”
And damned if she didn’t tighten around him again.
He grit his teeth and narrowed his eyes. He dropped a hand to where they were connected and flicked a finger upward at the same time he rubbed her nipple. She gasped and sank fully on top of him.
He wasn’t sure he had ever felt anything quite so wonderful as her contracting muscles and the feel of her, warm and wet around him. And never heard anything as wonderful as her ragged breaths against his ear.
“Not fair.” It was more of a released breath from her than actually formed words.
He moved his hands to her knees to stop him from touching her further. “Better?” he whispered against her lips.
She kissed him, long and deep, then shifted back so she was sitting on him. After a few tentative movements she found a rhythm she liked, and one that made his stomach muscles clench and his fingers clutch her knees. She swayed and lifted, riding, eyes closed and chin tilted like some wild fairy. Rose spread down her skin, making it glow. Her cheeks, fiery blooms, her eyelids heavy with passion. No man in his right mind would call this woman plain. He had never seen anything so evocative and gorgeous.
She moved over him, her breasts swaying with each movement. Dangling in front of him like ripe cherries. A nipple brushed his chin and he captured it between his lips. She moaned, her forehead dropping to his, her hair curtaining around them, her pace becoming more erratic as she pushed down, sheathing him, then pulled up toward his mouth in trembling thrusts, as if unable to decide between which she wanted more. He sucked hard and she threw her head back, mouth open, beautiful beyond anything, giving him exactly what he wanted and taking exactly what he needed.
He drew his hands up her thighs, to the sides of her breasts, then down her waist, forcing her farther down, pushing farther inside her, as far as he could go, no longer playing the submissive, pulling them back to equal terms, exactly where they should be. He gripped her hips and pushed down on them every time she drew back up, thrust his hips upward to curve into exactly the right spot. She went wild in his arms, exactly as he wanted, but instead of only reveling in her responses, the ones he drew and caused and controlled, he reveled in his own as well. The sleek, tight feel of her, the unintelligible sounds she was making in his ear, the wanton bliss of her reactions, responding like she was born to it. Born to him. Not something out of a power game, but something forged by mutual desire and compatibility.
Her lips moved over his ear, over his cheek, connected with his mouth, fiercely kissing him. Pulling his lips between hers, swallowing his groan as she made a particularly long downward thrust and swiveled her hips.
“Gabriel, I—” He curved upward again and her eyes rolled briefly back, her chin tilting and breath catching. Her hands fell to his shoulders to keep her upright. She looked into his eyes, her brown eyes completely smoked with desire and emotion, but not hazy from incomprehension. “Gabriel, I—”
He captured her lips and framed her cheeks in his hands, his fingers curling into her hair. But he didn’t make her eyes roll back, he didn’t cause her head to fall to the side, none of the tricks that would make her look away or lose contact with his eyes. No tricks that would hide his own completion, the expression on his face, the power that would give her. Their bodies met, their eyes held. And when they both fell apart moments later, he never looked away, and neither did she.
Gabriel picked up Abigail’s journal. He didn’t even like touching it, but Marietta thought all the answers were inside, and he had somehow known it to be the truth since the journal’s discovery. That was the reason he found himself unable to destroy it. And the reason he hadn’t been able to look through it.
He had a copy of Lady Dentry’s list. All he needed to do was go through the journal and check each name off, referenced with what he remembered of each. See if there were any discrepancies, any allusions to events that might have caused someone to become a murderer.
Turning the pages was a struggle, but he began to make headway. One servant identified. Another. A village boy. A summer guest. When he reached his own section, he began flipping the pages more quickly. He didn’t need to read it to remember.
He paused, his fingers in the act of flipping a page. Marietta had read most of this. Had probably gone back when he wasn’t looking and scoured the parts concerning him. She knew all of it, and yet she was still here. Still with him.
He flipped the page, his eyes barely skimming the pen strokes. Marietta saved her pity but extended her empathy. His feelings for her were already strong, but he had a feeling they were sliding down a terminal slope into the unknown.
