Authors: Chanse Lowell
“Then I shall creep into your room like a regular ghoul and snatch you up, carrying you off to the garden.” He kissed with an open mouth along the column of her neck.
“How positively primeval of you.” She exhaled like it was a strain to do so. She dropped her head and smiled. “Sing for me.”
“Pardon?” His voice went up in pitch, and he cleared his throat.
“Sing right now for me. If you do it and the ladies can you hear you are singing, but cannot decipher your words, then I shall gladly go with you to your bed and you can have me.”
“You jest,” he said, scrutinizing her face for some sign this was a joke in poor taste.
She inclined her head at him. “I danced for you. Do you think that was an easy thing for me to do?”
“It appeared as effortless for you as breathing is.”
“It wasn’t. I assure you, I was petrified. I love dancing even more than singing, and I was worried you would not like what you would see, especially since you are in a position to have observed many dancers over the years on the stage.”
He gripped her arms tight. “It is not the same. You have some training. I have little to none. How can you think these compare?”
“William—you say you need me, but I cannot possibly fathom how.”
“If you will back up for a moment, you will see the reverse is true. It is
you
who perpetually runs, not
I
. The moment you see that I am desperate for you—because you are all that is good in this world and you are all that I need—that is the moment you will have your eyes opened. If you were to share with me one vulnerability or one need in your life I fulfill other than monetary since I’m certain you put no stock in that—then I could relax. I would not be this raging lunatic, clutching at your ankles to keep you here,” he said in a rush.
She curled her hands around the back of his neck and squeezed. “Do you think I would be here if you did not mean something to me? Who else sees any value in me other than Leo?”
“Both those ladies out there—all those men at the bank you put under your spell today. My God, I feel like it’s a Herculean effort to keep them from snapping at you and devouring you whole.” He cupped her hands around his neck.
“But do any of them hold my heart the way you do?”
“I wish I knew.” He took a deep, abiding breath. “All right—before I sing for you—know this . . . Pauline and I have a past together.”
“I assumed as much.”
“And you are fine with her dwelling under this roof when you know this?” He stretched his shoulders for a moment, rolling them back. They were so tense. “I know if the reverse were true, and I were in your position, I would frighten that woman off in a rage of jealousy.”
She wore a soft, understanding look.
“I could barely stand to have Tyrone Power in the same room as you today, let alone look in your direction—what with his reputation.” He paused and took a deep breath. “Not that his is any worse than mine, but still . . . Power almost boasts about his conquests. For me . . .” He trailed off for a moment, getting lost in her eyes. Her expression turned to one of sympathy, so he kept going. “For me, it has never been about choice or gloating or pride. It’s a hunger, a driving force deep down inside me that tells me I have to subjugate a woman—
you
—and take you in hand, along with providing and protecting you. I have no idea why I feel this way. I’m an aberration, I suppose.” He stroked her hands on his neck. “But for some reason you supply all my feral needs to be this man.”
She sighed. “And I relish each moment you are this man to its fullest.”
“Truly? There are so many things I desire to do to you, but I hold back for fear of frightening you with my intensity.”
“There is nothing I fear from you other than losing who I am. I come alive at your touch, and your attentions ignite this flame in me like I can scarcely believe, but I will not be the silenced type. If you are looking for someone to arrest completely into oblivion, then it cannot be me. I have to retain some portion of who I am.”
“My intent is never to break you and make you disappear. It is to be there for you—to guide you. I do want you on stage, sweetheart, but not at the cost of your soul. You have a pristine, resplendent one, and I’ll be damned if I allow it to be sullied by men in the acting business that care nothing for the women on stage.”
“But what of Lenora?”
He closed his eyes and went on. “Lenora knew what she was after, and it was a mutually beneficial exchange of power for placement in the theater. I was tired of hiring women like Pauline to submit to me. She never liked it. None of them ever did, but they tolerated it because either they wanted my money or my connections.” He opened his eyes, and hers were misted. “I am not proud of the way I treated her, but I was so angry and broken inside that no one wanted to let me out of my cage. No one liked what I set free in small increments.”
“I love it. You are breathtaking, and you thrill me to the bone with excitement. I cannot wait to see how else you plan to debase me.” She smiled.
He kissed her at the corner of her mouth, then licked there to prove a point. “Pauline could tell you things about me that would turn your blood cold.”
“I’m sure she could, but does it matter?”
“It might to you. I was in earnest today. I cannot explain it, other than I’m compelled—I want you to marry me. So, will you?”
“Sing for me first, silly man, and then I will supply you with my answer.”
“Tell me first some need I fulfill for you so I know you need me in some manner,” he said like a stubborn mule.
“The day I met you and you broke apart my pearls I knew you would cause havoc in my life, so I ran. But what you fail to notice is I always come back and hide. Why do you think that is?”
“Do you refer to the party I hosted at the Vanderbilts’?”
She blinked, her lashes fluttering in a subtle way. “Yes.”
“Because you enjoy toying with danger?” He shifted closer to her.
She released his neck and the absence of the warmth set his gut to pieces.
“Because I love to run and be chased. You coming after me gives me what I need. A sense of importance in your life. You can tell me you need me, say you love me, but unless you give chase and are clever enough to find where I hide, I do not feel truly worthy. That is what I need from you, and that is what you supply. You show me that you will stop at nothing to be with me, and that is more than any bank note you could ever gift me with.”
He opened his mouth with a moment’s hesitation, and he sang. Oh, how he belted it out, even with his heart thundering in his chest, and his hands roaming over her body. He hadn’t the wherewithal to know what he sang about, but there was something in there about his heart and how it was unburdened by her, that she added a lightness to his touch, a spark in his eyes and gave him a life he had never known.
It ended, of course, with some very naughty words about how he planned to open her to other experiences—other forbidden moments—sensual escapades in public, his body in her darkest, deepest orifices and how he yearned to be accepted for who he truly was as a demon of the night.
It was mostly gibberish, but she melted right on the spot, cried and pulled at her corset from the sides.
Was it constricting her air flow too much?
“Did I murder your hearing?” he asked at last when his breath was back.
“No—you have a faithful fan at your service.” She dropped to her knees, bent down and kissed his shoes. “My lord—this is your humble servant. Do with her as you will.”
“Oh fuck—I . . . Strip now, ma chérie. Your third hole is mine to explore. I expect you to bend over my desk once you are naked.”
And he expected it to be done forthwith, lacking complaint.
Chapter 13
“Would you like a drink first to loosen up?” William asked.
Clarissa shook her head as her eyes remained on him.
He was proposing anal exploration with his cock and with a side of brandy?
What was this madness?
And why was she eagerly removing her clothes?
At one point, her hands shook so hard with excitement and nerves, she had to turn around so he could unbutton the dress.
But then she realized—she had not dressed herself today like she had the rest of her life.
He had placed it on her and oh! Her undergarments she had never looked at were about to be exposed.
Her face heated, and her heart pounded. What kind of self-respecting woman would allow a man to dress her in scandalous underclothing?
“My beautiful, strangely alluring girl. My senses are frayed when you are this close.” He licked the back of her neck, unfastened her dress, then sat back and merely watched as she pushed one sleeve off a shoulder and then the other.
Her eyes would draw back to his. Those heated looks and the way he licked his lips between sips of his drink set her body alight.
For some inexplicable reason she was humming, swaying her hips and dipping backward in the most enticing movements she could conjure up. Her heated puss throbbed each time she saw his heavy-lidded eyes and his predatory stance before his desk, like he would pounce any second.
Yet, she continued on.
The dress was puddled on the floor, and she stepped over it on tiptoes.
She spun around in a slow arc, then she ran her hands down the sides of her breasts, hips and thighs and unlatched her first garter.
Her backside was presented to him as she undid one in the back.
He made a soft whistling sound, but stood motionless.
She unlatched the rest on the other thigh and then she approached him, setting her left foot up on his desk.
As she unrolled her see-through silk stocking, he whispered, “Ssslowwwwer . . .”
She sucked in her bottom lip to hide a blossoming smile, but it didn’t work.
“My favored slut has some of her own games she likes to play besides hide and seek?” His hand closest to her ran down her leg, preceding where she would roll the fabric down.
His touch shot chills straight up her leg and to her puss.
Her fingers placed the bunched up fabric in his outstretched hand.
He placed it at his nostrils and took a deep whiff. “Startling . . . I am even harder for you now. You may be in grave danger tonight. My control is slipping.”
She whispered. “Of course it is, my seductive couillon.”
He smirked and waited with the patience he professed to lack as she did the same with her other leg.
Only this time, he didn’t touch her.
She handed him that one as well, and once more, he inhaled deeply, then set them both aside on his desk.
Her attempts to remain sultry failed as her nerves got the better of her.
She accidentally snapped the garter belt while removing it because of the tiny silk drawers he’d placed over her puss with satin ribbons, tying it on the sides. She flung the garter over his head without meaning to.
He only laughed and continued to watch.
She turned around once more, offering her laces on her corset to him.
The man made her knees actually buckle as he used his teeth to undo them.
He held her steady once he realized she was weaker than she appeared to be—his hands remaining taut on her waistline.
Once the corset was loosened, he set her aside like he had the stockings so she could remove it.
After that point, she was so overheated and taxed, she almost flung herself over his desk, her bottom tilted up in the air.
She went on tiptoe once more.
He made this purring sound behind her as something soft and flexible wrapped around her right ankle.
“Will . . . ?”
“Shhh . . . Darling, I’m securing you so you will not harm yourself when I take you in that asshole that I have been fixating on for weeks now.”
“Oh good Lord, I die . . . I surely die right now.” Her back was damp with sweat, and her eyes rolled up into her head. Was she even breathing anymore?
“Don’t die yet—do you forget I need you to participate, and take my breath away?” He smacked her bottom over the silky fabric, and she moaned on impact.
It sent tingles down to her toes. Her nipples tightened as he restrained her other ankle to the leg of his desk.
This was wicked beyond belief.
Even scarier was how she panted after it and was so docile at the sound of his voice.
Ah, Christ—that voice. The satin fabric between her thighs was very moist. These miniature knickers did nothing to absorb the wetness. They seemed to spread the liquids, and as it seeped, she couldn’t help but overheat at the thought he was watching the fabric change color from the liquid as it traveled up her front and backside.
Did his hand become damp when he smacked her tush?
“Stay just like this—I am not nearly done with you.” He shifted side to side behind her.
Once more, his voice had her tingling in obscene places. It was gruff, it was masculine and sent her heart racing faster than a hummingbird’s wing while in pursuit of sweet nectar.