I would be seeing those eyes every day that week, hoping the last time I saw them would be on a silver platter.
He shovedmy chest into the wall of the hallway outside my room, kicking my legs apart with his boot.
“What do we have here?” He pressed his hips against me, one hand firmly gripping the back of my neck.
He’d caught me while changing today.
I only had on a thin white petticoat skirt and a sleeveless corset cover. It was a little more exposed than I preferred, nowhere to hide anything sharp.
Silas lifted my skirt from behind, staring at the bare skin. He grabbed one half of my backside and squeezed.
I flinched at his touch. A hot dribble ran down my leg.
“Oh, I feel like I’ve just found gold at the end of a rainbow,” he said sweetly. “Now this is making a bit more sense. Why didn’t you tell me it was yourstrawberry week?” His words were childish, mocking.
Don’t be such a child.
He let it fall down my leg, blending into the red Persian carpet as it met the floor.
“Ah, how inconsiderate of me to pursue you in this state!” his voice rang in my ear. “But first, if you want any relief, release that thing in your mouth,” he demanded, holding his gloved hand out in front of my mouth.
I gave him a long, seething glare over my shoulder before slowly spitting a small glass vial into his palm.
“I knew there was something in there. It’s not like you to refuse a good banter,” he teased before pocketing the vial and removing his glove with his teeth.
“What are you doing?” I demanded, pushing my palmsagainst the wall, but his grip on the back of my neck held my cheek against the wallpaper.
“Being a gentleman, of course,” he said low in my ear as he gathered the fabric of my skirt, exposing me in the front. The warmth of his fingers danced along my pelvic bone before cupping between my thighs.
“No!Stop that!” I fussed.
His index finger gently pushed against the entrance of my vagina.
My breath hitched, and I pushed back against his chest. Thisanimalwas touching me during the worst time. How could he possibly think this would make me feel better?
His finger slipped inside easily, lubricated by the fresh blood.
“Silas,pleasetake it out,” I pleaded, my body rigid from discomfort, both inside and out now.
He added a second finger and moved them tenderly inside, flexing against the swollen parts of me.
My body let out a sharp tremor, my head flinching back.
“There you go. Let me in,” he whispered against my shoulder, gently gracing it with kisses while he stroked his fingers inside me.
I would never admit it, but it felt good—reallygood.
It was like the sore parts of myself were melting in his hand. While the idea was uncomfortable and unthinkable, the endorphins were doing wonders for the pain in my abdomen, like a release of tension that I was never sure how to deal with, if not with laudanum.
“Disgusting.” I couldn’t disguise the gasp when he picked up his pace.
“You? Never,” he said sweetly in my ear, his breath fanning across the back of my neck.
He quickened his pace. Everything inside me was so sensitive, like it was waiting for a release like this.
My head jolted back against his shoulder, and I let out a labored breath, unable to focus on whether I wanted to kill him or give in.
He stepped back, walking us backward until his back hit the opposite hallway wall. His other hand cupped my breast as he held me against him. He hit someplace deep inside that begged for more.
