The Fighter and the Fallen Woman (18 page)

Chapter Twenty

After Lady fetched a dark hooded cloak, King hailed a hansom cab and helped her in. She wanted to protest the cost, but she wanted to be alone with King even more. On the short drive he held her hand, his thumb rubbing across her knuckles, but nothing more. The innocent seduction was a new sensation and even though she was almost trembling in need, she enjoyed every second of it.

They left the cab a block away from King’s and approached the back of the Red Door slowly, as though they were taking a midnight stroll. With no apparent eyes on them, King unlocked the door and drew her quickly inside, securing the door behind them.

Lady untied her cloak and draped it over a chair while King struck a match to the fire laid in the hearth.

“Are you cold?” She suddenly felt shy. Not able to look at him anymore, she glanced around the room, her gaze landing on the bed. The quilt she had given him, blocks of blues, browns and greens, lay on the mattress with an almost military precision. She pointed at it. “You could wrap yourself in the quilt.”

“I do that every night,” he said, and something sluiced through her body like a hot bath on a cold night.

He rose and took her hands. Lady watched as he lifted them to his mouth and pressed a kiss on the back of each, and she no longer felt shy. She knew what she wanted and it was this man. Without breaking eye contact, she lifted his hands to her mouth and kissed each scarred knuckle. King made a sound of protest and tried to pull his hands away, but Lady held firm.

“Don’t. You shouldn’t have to touch that,” he said and tried to pull away again.

Lady slid her mouth around his index finger and looked up at him. He’d stopped trying to extract himself and was just watching her. She pulled her mouth off the finger, her lips lingering to bestow a kiss on its tip, and squeezed his hands. “Just because they have a few small scars? My scars are on the inside, King. Do they cause you to turn away?”

The look he gave her made Lady helpless, hopeless and incredibly strong. In his eyes, she could see the barest hint of who he saw when he looked at her, and she could be that person. She only hoped he was seeing on her face the courageous yet gentle champion she saw in him.

With a shuffling step, King closed the space between them and slid his hands out of hers to grasp each side of her neck, his thumbs brushing her cheeks. Tilting her head a little to the side, he kissed her.

Lady grasped his forearms and returned his kiss, feeling the light brush of the hair on his arms against her wrists. She wanted to bury her nose in the spot behind his ear and breathe in his scent while licking it off his neck.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and shoulders, forcing Lady to curl her arms around his back. She rubbed against him, the delicious friction causing her to writhe even more. The kiss turned openmouthed and ravenous, and she tasted King, a heady flavor that made her want to never stop.

He broke off the kiss and, after a few sharp nips to her neck, swept Lady into his arms. With a groan, he quickly lowered her to her feet again.

“What is it? Are you all right?” Lady ran her hands over his body to feel for the cause of his distress.

“Just my shoulder. I stopped wearing the bandage because I felt better, but I forgot and picked you up.”

Lady stopped her explorations and looked at King. His head was bowed yet she could see the frustration and embarrassment in his face. “I’ll make you forget you forgot,” she promised and reached one hand into the collar of his shirt, both touching him and pulling his neck toward her for more tasting. His warm, scented skin was intoxicating and she wanted more. Standing up, sitting down—she wanted it all.

Pressing kisses from his earlobe down to his collarbone, Lady slowly walked them both back until she felt the bed behind her legs. Judging by the ridge that bumped into her belly when she suddenly stopped, King had indeed forgotten his pain and was now thinking of other things. As was she.

He gently pushed her on the bed and covered her by bracing his hands on either side of her shoulders with one knee against her hip. “Ask me to give up breathing, ask me to give up water or air, just don’t ask me to stop.”

This raw, aggressive man desired her so much he’d pushed her on the bed, but he was also asking her, a whore, if she wanted to go any further or not. She reached up and started to unbutton his shirt.

“Don’t stop.” She glanced at him and saw his grin before looking back at the shadowed planes of his chest and stomach.

King slowly lowered himself to his side on the bed, but half of his body covered hers. She pushed his shirt off the side of his body that sheltered her and reveled in the firmness of his muscles, the brush of his hair, the heat of his skin. He was rough and smooth and scarred and hers.

He was letting his hand idly brush up and down her waist, but doing nothing else, almost as though he was waiting for something. She let her hand slide back down to her side and closed her eyes for the space of a deep breath. The cocoon of peace and warmth she had been floating in burst with a silent pop and she felt her happiness drain away.

“I’m sorry. I’ll do better.” She opened her eyes but not enough to see his face. She grabbed the bulge in his pants.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” he cried, pulling on her hand and shifting his hips away from her. “What are you doing?”

“Pleasing you.” She started unbuttoning her dress and tried to make her voice into a smoky promise of pleasure. Funny how when she was really anticipating the act, she had the most trouble acting like it. Maybe she was meant to be just a whore.

“Lady,” he said, his voice both strident and tender. He took her hand and held it against his chest. “What do you think this is?”

“Sex.” She kept her eyes downcast.

He was quiet for so long, she chanced a look at him. He was studying her, and the intensity of his gaze scared her.

“Do you know what I was thinking when you were touching me?”

She shook her head back and forth two times but never looked away from his face.

“I was thinking I could stay like this forever and be happy. To not touch any more of you, to do nothing more but hold you like this and watch you smile, that’s what I was thinking.”

Tears blurred her vision and made her nose sting. “But what about the sex?”

He wrapped his arms around her and rolled onto his back, taking her with him so they switched positions. He was flat on his back with one arm forming a cushion for her head and the other on her back, pulling her close against him. She cuddled into his side, arms pulled into her chest and her head buried against his shoulder. He kissed the top of her head.

“You’re right. I do want to be inside you, watch your face as I am, but I meant what I said. If this was the most we did tonight, or any other night, I’d be happy.” He did sound pleased and Lady began to feel hope. “There’s something about you that makes me feel peaceful. It’s like there was a hole in me I didn’t know existed, and you fill that.” He snorted. “Pretty bollocksy claptrap from a street fighter, eh? You’ve probably heard poetry and prettier talk.”

Lady laid one hand over his mouth and raised her head so she could see him. She waited until she could see the gold flecks in his eyes before she said anything. “I have heard poetry and songs and proclamations of love in foreign languages, but they were all empty promises meant to turn my head. Your words, everything you’ve done for me? That’s what makes me feel special.” She slid her fingers down his chin, down his neck, and finally stopped over his heart.

“I do?” He laid one hand over hers.

“Yes, King. You do.”

* * *

King took the deep breath of a prayer before drinking in the full beauty of her eyes, her face. She was looking at him, and if he made her feel special, she made him feel like a god. He traced her eyebrow with his fingertips and waited, let her make the move that would bring them together. Anything she wanted to do, anytime she wanted to stop, he was hers to command.

He watched her wait for him to press forward, to lead in this dance, but he wouldn’t. Desire, confusion and finally anger painted her face in light washes and yet he remained still. She had demons to fight, but there was only so much fighting he could do for her before his help would turn to harm instead. This was her battle and, like any good soldier, he’d follow her orders, and hers alone.

Unable to bear her this close, yet so far away, King closed his eyes and slowly flattened his hand so he was fully cupping her cheek. He took a deep breath, inhaling her scent, and slid his little finger down her neck far enough that he could feel the faint edge of her pulse. The rapid beat gave a sharp jump and before her next heartbeat, Lady grabbed his face in both hands and kissed him with a frustrated cry deep in her throat.

He let her lead the kiss, meeting her slashing mouth with enough passion to match her, but not overwhelm her. She needed to be in control, let her anger out, but he also needed her to know she could trust him, and that the passion he felt for her had nothing to do with money and everything to do with love.

“What are you smiling about?” she asked with a snarl in her voice. “Happy you’re going to get some cunny?”

“You. You’re making me smile,” he said softly, still smiling. He leaned forward, intent on kissing her, but she pulled away and turned her head.

“Your loyalty toward Nessie makes me smile.” He pressed a soft kiss high on her cheek. She stilled and he felt his smile grow even more.

“Your smarts and ability to find the answer make me smile.” He kissed her jaw, letting his tongue touch the blade of it. She shivered slightly but didn’t move a muscle other than that.

“Your incredible strength makes me smile.” He kissed the spot between her nose and her cheek, and he felt her eyelashes flutter against his forehead. As he pulled away to look at her, she turned her head so she was facing him directly.

“And that you’ve made it through all you have with your heart and soul as lush and intact as the day you were born makes me smile.” He kissed her on the lips. She didn’t respond, yet she didn’t pull away, so King closed his eyes and softly kissed her again.

“I’m not, though,” Lady said, her voice a broken whisper. She moved one hand to his shoulder, where she held him like he was keeping her from drowning. “I’m none of those things.”

“Yes, you are. You’re all of that and more. And I will fight any man, or any woman, who says differently.”

“Even me?”

“Even you.”

With a cry, Lady started kissing him again. King met her enthusiastically, yet was careful not to get too carried away, not yet. She was still tender, this woman of his, and he was willing to take it as slowly as she needed.

Lady’s kisses turned hotter, wetter, and he was starting to doubt his ability to keep it slow for her sake. When she twined around him, pressing her lush curves against him, he rolled her so they were facing each other. She was still holding him so tightly King wondered if, given the opportunity, she would crawl inside him, and he vowed to make her feel as protected as if she could have.

She pulled away and looked at him. He stood and slowly took off his shirt, watching her for any signs of discomfort, but saw none. He propped each foot up on the bed and unlaced his boots, kicking them off without taking his eyes off of her until the little flick of her tongue over her lower lip caused him to stumble. She smiled and he unbuttoned his pants and slid them off, letting her look her fill at him from head to toe. When her gaze stopped at his cock, conveniently at eye level to her, her regard caused it to jump. She giggled nervously.

Making no sudden moves, he slid under the covers. He waited until she met his eyes before saying, “Whatever you want to do is good with me. If you want to lie here, I’ll hold you. If you want to do things to me...” He laughed and she smiled. “Well, then, I’ll let you. Just know you’re in control.”

She crawled over him and stood so she mirrored the stance he’d just taken. “Do you want me?” she asked as she finished unbuttoning her dress.

“More than air.”

She shrugged her frock off and stood before him in corset, chemise and drawers. She faced him with what seemed to be calmness, almost boredom, but he could see the pulse in her neck jump. “Do you want me?” she asked again.

“More than life.”

She unhooked her corset and let it drop to the ground, leaving her in a fine linen chemise of white, embroidered with a dark green vine and obscenely bursting flowers of orange, red and pink blooming every few inches. Her drawers, of the same material, were bound with ribbon at waist and knee and framed the shadow between her legs. King could smell musk and he wasn’t sure if it was from her, those bloody flowers or both.

“Do you want me?” she asked one last time.

“Dear God, yes.”

Chapter Twenty-One

She pulled the covers off him and sat on his upper thighs, his erection gently pushed upward by the bump of her mound, and the sensation almost caused King to come right then and there. Lady leaned forward and started kissing his neck and chest, her breasts brushing against his front. With each flurry of kisses, she writhed against him, her quinny rubbing between the base of his cock and the tight rocks of his testicles. He fisted his hands in the blankets so he wouldn’t grab her, roll her over and pierce her sweet, beckoning heat.

“Your body is saying you want me, but you’re not doing a very good job of making me believe it.” Lady purposely dragged her breasts down his chest and stomach to brush against the tip of his cock.

“I want you more than I have ever wanted anything,” King managed to grind out, “but I meant what I said. I’m yours to do with as you like, not the other way around. You’re safe with me.”

She stopped for a moment and looked at him, and King could see her try to figure out his angle. He tried to show her with his eyes that he meant it, but the little lace tie between her breasts looked like one little tug would free her ripe breasts to his mouth.

“Oh, is this what you want, then?” She slowly, excruciatingly pulled that tie and the shadow of her cleavage came into view. With one sinuous twist of her magnificent shoulders, she pulled the chemise off and he was able to see her in the firelight. Her breasts were breathtaking, topped by dark pink nipples the perfect size for him to roll with his tongue. Her skin looked like cream after all of the peaches had been eaten, and in that blush of her chest, there were two scars, one across her ribs and the other at the base of her left breast. He glanced up and could see the uncertainty in her eyes, knew she was waiting for him to flinch or make a comment, but he couldn’t. He knew what it had cost her to show herself to him, had an idea of the pain she’d endured when getting those scars, and the only thing he wanted to do was kill the man who had caused her such pain.

“Come here.” He let his passion for her fill his eyes, beat his heart. She slowly leaned forward and he couldn’t stop the groan that escaped him, nor the way his eyes shuddered closed as her unfettered breasts rubbed against him, skin to skin. He felt the touch of her lips against his and without letting go of the blankets, he kissed her as he’d been wanting to do since she’d first straddled him. He slanted his mouth over hers again and again, stroked his tongue against hers.

Lady wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed herself against him, rocking back and forth with a friction that was testing the last fraying thread of his control. When she rocked forward one more time, the slit in her drawers shifted and her cleft parted over King’s erection, the linen giving way to softer, warmer things.

King’s control shattered. He released his fisted hold on the blankets and wrapped his arms around her middle, the feel of her causing his breath to stop for a second. Lady rolled to the side and pulled him with her, keeping one leg thrown over his hips so they kept touching.

King took advantage of his position to lower his head and kiss her breasts the way he’d been kissing her mouth, sucking her nipples in and rolling them on his tongue. He lowered one hand to the curve of her bottom, sliding it underneath her drawers, and could feel her moisture against the tips of his fingers. That wetness both broke him and brought him back, and he jerked his hand back and threw himself onto his back. He’d almost reached deeper, stroked that sweet spot that would make her thoroughly wet and broken his promise to let her be in control. “I can’t,” he managed to say between gasps. “I’m not going to take you like this.”

He could hear Lady panting beside him and he didn’t dare look at her. He could imagine her swollen lips, her eyes gone smoky and hooded, the pink of her nipples rising above the cream of her skin. He clenched his hands so he wouldn’t grab her.

He closed his eyes, but he could still hear her moving, could feel the bed shift, smell her musk over the tea-and-lemon scent of her skin as she sat up and started to crawl over him and off the bed, when something so amazing happened that King felt his heart fill his throat. Against his will, he opened his eyes to see.

Lady had removed her drawers and straddled him, nestling the head of his cock in her plump, wet folds. “Then I’m going to have to take you like this,” she said and slid onto him.

It killed King to not let his eyes roll back in his head, but he kept looking at Lady, wanting her to feel his gaze the way he could feel that little part of her spirit waking up and stretching.

As she rode him, flexing and pushing him to the edge of control, King tightened everything in himself so he wouldn’t be just another man using her regardless of coin being exchanged. He wanted her to know he was different, that
she
was different, and if it caused his pleasure to turn into pain, he would bear it.

She started to move faster, make little groans that signaled the beginning of the end, but it didn’t feel like it to King. There was no change to her body—no puckering of her beautiful nipples, no blood rushing to her skin and especially no imminent signs from where he could feel her the most. The thought that she couldn’t let herself completely go chipped off a piece of his heart.

Knowing he would be breaking the promise he made to himself to let her remain in absolute control, King relaxed his fists. As slowly and gently as he could, he touched her knee with his fingertips. She started for barely a second, but then resumed that wicked rocking that was going to cause him to come whether he wanted to or not. Like a wisp of candle smoke, he started to trace his fingers up her thighs, letting his palms brush against her skin. Her rocking became a little jerky, and he felt a small flicker of hope.

As they swirled up her hip, his fingers barely brushed the curve of her bottom before arriving at her waist. At that spot, King couldn’t resist laying his hands on her. He needed more of him touching more of her.

He slid his hands up her sides, this time only touching the barest curve of her breast before reaching under her arms and letting his hands curl around to grasp her shoulders. Lady drew back until only the barest tip of him remained in her and she finally looked at him, her eyes wary as if she was expecting a trick. She held there while King let his hands flow down her arms to her hands, twining his around so they were grasping hers. As she watched him, King finally let himself look away and glanced at their joined hands. He felt her start to slide back down his length, and as she did, he pulled both of her hands to his mouth and kissed them.

With a frantic cry, she grabbed his shoulders and started riding him with an enthusiastic yet innocent frenzy. “Hold me,” she said in a broken whisper and leaned forward to pull him tight as he sat up to wrap his arms around her waist.

“I’ll never let go,” he said and felt the beginnings of her pleasure start to clench him as tightly as her arms were. He kissed across her chest, up over her collarbone, and as his tongue was licking up the front of her neck, he felt her cry against his mouth the same time he felt her orgasm break upon her, squeezing him into his own.

Crying, yelling, screaming, they writhed together as the wave broke over them and threw them, gorged and exhausted, back to the bed. Lady collapsed on top of him.

After a few moments, she stirred and he opened his eyes to look at her. She had raised her head and was watching him, a shy smile lighting her whole face. She brushed a kiss on his lips and slid over to his side. King felt the loss of her surrounding him, but when she curled against him and he pulled the quilt over her, he felt a new warmth against his skin. He closed his eyes, thinking of the sparkle in hers, and smiled.

* * *

Hannibal lit a cigar and held it at arm’s length, staring at the glowing tip. His other arm was propped behind his head and the naked girl whose head was resting on that arm was tracing her fingers through the hair on his belly. After he’d taken care of that business at the warehouse and bribed a few officials, he’d still been thinking of Lady’s sweet cunny and found himself stiff as a railroad spike once more. Just because he and Lady had decided to wait didn’t mean he had to. He came to the Red Door and asked for Jenny, the girl who looked a little like Lady as long as he only saw her ass or the top of her head.

“So, Mr. Adams, I hear your man Mr. King is going to win the tournament, he is.”

“Aye, Jenny. That’s right.” He was only half paying attention to the girl. He was still deciding whether to pull Shade or not. With King possibly hurt, it might be better for him to have another fighter who could still win the tournament.

“I like Mr. King, I do. When Mr. Collins pays for me to see him, I get a fluttery feeling in my pussy. Maybe I’m helping him win,” she said and giggled.

So, Mr. Collins was sending Jenny to King, was he? What did that mean? He took a puff of his cigar and curled his arm around Jenny, his hand playing along her ribs. “How many times has Mr. Collins paid you to see King?”

“Are you angry, Mr. Adams?” Jenny sat up and looked at him like a puppy that had gone on the rug. “If you don’t want me to, I won’t. I promise.”

“No, that’s fine, Jenny.” He pulled her back down, his hand now cupping one of her sweet little paps. He sighed. That’s where he did miss his Lady. She had bubbies that could pillow his head, none of this barely a handful shit. “I know you’ve got to earn a good living and that’s fine with me. Besides, I know you’ll come see me if I ask, won’t you?” He laughed and squeezed one of those little paps like a ripe plum.

Jenny squealed. “Oh, of course, Mr. Adams.” She started to trace the hair on his belly in a specific downward pattern.

“So how many times, Jenny?” Hannibal took a deep draw on his cigar.

“Oh, let’s see. There was the day after Mr. King was hurt, and he said there would be one more before the big fight, but he hasn’t given any instruction yet, so just the two.”

“Hmm. Did he say why he picked you?”

“Said he thought I had pretty hair.” She started to stroke his cock using her fist. Hannibal took a deep breath and enjoyed the sensation. “Said he thought Mr. King liked blondes,” she murmured and crawled over him to start kissing where her hand had been.

Hannibal took another puff on his cigar and closed his eyes. The way this blonde was using her tongue sure made him appreciate... He opened his eyes and looked down. The way Jenny had her hair piled up in a braid made him think of Lady. Lady was a blonde. King liked blondes. Lady had said no to him earlier tonight.

With a curse, Hannibal shoved Jenny off him and jumped off the bed. He threw open the door and yelled for Shade. In less than two seconds, his man was running up the stairs, pushing other girls and their customers aside.

“What do you need?” Shade asked, and Hannibal knew he could say swim to France, and Shade would.

“Go get King and check on Lady. If King’s not there, go to Lady’s alone. Make sure she’s all tucked in right and tight, but nothing else. Anything different, you send a boy to come get me. Got it?”

“Got it,” he said and left, scattering more people in his wake. Hannibal was reminded of a hunting dog, all power and grace, and ready to snap a fox in half if given the word. The power he held over Shade got him even harder. He turned back to Jenny, huddled and crying on the other side of the bed. His cock gave a happy jump.

“Now, where were you?” he asked with a wicked grin.

* * *

Lady finished dressing and King helped her on with her cloak, using the chore to wrap his arms around her and pull her so her back was flush against his front. Lady had just sunk into his warm and heady embrace when two sharp raps on the door broke them apart.

“It’s probably Jenny again.” King sounded casual, but Lady knew Jenny could sink them as much as anybody else. King slowly walked over to the door, then opened it only the width of his head.

“Mr. Adams has something for us to do.” Lady heard Shade’s voice and prayed he didn’t hear the small gasp she couldn’t hold back. She didn’t move, knowing if Shade took one step into the small room that he would see her and her worst fears would be realized.

“Now?” King asked, sounding bored. Out of the corner of her eye, Lady looked at the door. King had narrowed its opening under the guise of leaning on it, and Lady watched it for the slightest twitch of being pushed open. Since it appeared to be staying closed, she pulled the hood over her head. If by chance Shade did look in, he’d only see a woman in a cloak but nothing distinguishing.

“Of course, now. Let’s go.”

“Let me get dressed first.” She heard King scuffle around and knew his shirt would be somewhere on the bed, but wasn’t sure about his boots.

“It smells like sex in here.”

Lady froze.

“Why do you think I have my rooms here?” King chuckled. “Which also begs me to ask where we’re going when I could be enjoying these rooms again.”

By the fading of his voice, he was leaving out the front with Shade. Lady risked a glance over her shoulder and glimpsed King’s back as he was exiting. She crept over to the space behind the door so she could hear what was being said.

“We’re going to Lady’s. Mr. Adams wants us to check on her.”

Lady pressed her fist to her mouth to keep from screaming, in rage or fear she didn’t know. King pulled the door shut and Lady laid her ear near the crack so she could hear if any more was said.

“Good. That’s a short trip so I’ll be back in time,” King said.

“Time for what?” Shade sounded curious even against his determination to carry out Mr. Adams’s wishes.

“Seconds.” King laughed, his voice growing faint as they headed for the front door. “Wait a moment,” he said, followed by increasingly loud footsteps. She pulled her head back as the door swung open. King ran across the room, looking frantically from side to side, then turned and saw her. He grabbed a jacket and whispered, “Money for the hackney is in the cupboard in a blue dish. Key to the back door is beside it. I’ll stall him as long as I can, but get going.”

He left, making a show of shutting the door. Lady heard him call something to Shade, but she was already running across the room on the balls of her feet so the heels of her shoes wouldn’t give her away. She grabbed two shillings and the key, and left, locking the door behind her.