The Fire Lord's Lover - 1 (5 page)

   "What's your name?"

   "Do ye need to know that?"

   Cass smiled. Cheeky little thing. "I suppose not, but I would like the pleasure of knowing whom I am addressing."

   The formality of her request appeared to make an impression. Cass released her hold and the boy squared his shoulders, smoothed back the silver-white hair tangled about his face, and curtsied. "My name is Gwendolyn, but everybody calls me Gwen."

   Cass started. Well, at that age, and with the amount of dirt covering the child, she shouldn't be surprised she'd mistaken the gender.

   "Did I do it wrong? I never curtsied before, but I've watched lots of times when the ladies do it."

   "Ah no. You curtsied quite well. How clever of you to teach yourself."

   The child beamed. Cass tried to suppress her discomfort. They employed servants in her home and at her school. The gentry considered it a show of their status that they could afford paid servants, and if they kept slaves, they were assigned the most menial tasks… and were hidden from view. So she didn't have much experience with slaves. The child looked ragged enough to have come from the workhouses of the East End of London. And even there they didn't put little girls in boy's breeches.

   "Well, Gwen, my name is Lady Cassandra, but you may call me Lady Cass. And I'm looking for General Raikes's bedchamber. Can you direct me?"

   "Yer his new wife, ain't ye? Why ye leaving yer party so early? Did ye see all the food they laid out fer ye?"

   "I'm quite full, you see."

   The child nodded in relief, as if glad Cass hadn't neglected the feast. "Ye don't want to go to his old place, do ye? They gave him a new set of rooms, ye see."

   "Indeed. You can direct me to the new rooms."

   "Ye might get lost. I could take ye there, but I'm not really supposed to be up in them. I might get in trouble."

   Cass reached in the slit of her skirt and pulled out a coin from her bag. "If anyone should stop us, I shall say you are my guide. And this will be for your trouble."

   The coin disappeared as quickly as the meat pie had, and in the same place. "That's all right, then." The child skipped off. Cass lifted her skirts and rushed to follow. "I'm supposed to stay in the kitchens, see. But I know me ways around. There's secret passages behind the walls, did ye know?"

   Cassandra shook her head and tried to look suitably impressed.

   "The general showed me. He used to work in the kitchens too, when he was little."

   So Cass had heard, but she'd hardly credited it. "Did he?"

   The child stopped at a winding staircase, the mahogany handrails polished to a brilliant shine, the treads carpeted in plush red. "I don't use these. The servants' stairs are back there." And she pointed to a closed door. "But I suppose it's all right since I'm with ye."

   Cass nodded, lifted her silk skirts a bit more, and started up the stairs, the child right on her heels. "So you know the general, Gwen?"

   "Oh aye. We likes to call him champion, ye know. But only when he ain't around, 'cause he don't like it."

   Cass waited, hoping the girl wouldn't need any further prodding.

   "He don't pay us no mind either. But he likes to snatch food from Cook, says it's a habit he can't break." They had reached the landing, and Gwen pointed down a long hall. "This here floor is for guests. Yer one more up."

   Cass nodded and started up again.

   "He don't like us none. He don't like anyone."

   "I hope he'll like me, Gwen."

   "Maybe. But he don't seem to like the women he sleeps with neither. At least, that's what Cook says."

   Cassandra thought she might take a little trip to the kitchens on the morrow and meet this Cook. She couldn't imagine that the churlish general went to the kitchens for nostalgia. What might be his true purpose?

   "Don't worry about not knowing him, Lady Cass. Nobody does, that's what Cook says. Now me, I think the dragon knows him. He spends a lot of time up there in the tower."

   "With Mor'ded's dragon-steed?" What would he want with such a dread beast?

   "Aye, his name's Ador, and I'm scared of him. But I don't think the general's scared of nothing."

   "Indeed."

   "But I only have finding magic. If I had the champion's fire magic, maybe I wouldn't be scared neither."

   "Finding magic?"

   "Oh aye. I can find lost stuff. If ye ever need anything found, lady, just let me know."

   They had reached the second landing, and the child skipped in front of Cassandra, taking the lead down the vast hall. Urns filled with blue fire lit the passage and gave it an eerie glow. Treasures littered the cabinets and niches in the walls, and Cass vowed to explore them in the light of day. But for now her guide hurried her along.

   Gwen stopped at two large double doors covered in gilt. "This is where yer new rooms are. I haven't been inside yet; they just finished with them."

   Cass nodded and reached for the gold handle.

   Gwen tugged at Cassandra's skirt. "Down there," she whispered, pointing a grubby finger at the end of the corridor, "is the Imperial Lord's rooms. Nobody's ever been in there, 'cept maybe the general. Don't go there, Lady Cass. There's things in there that'll eat ye if Mor'ded don't flame ye first."

   Cassandra frowned, wondering if Mor'ded had started the rumor to ensure his privacy. If it was indeed a rumor.

   "But don't ye worry about the champion hurting ye. He don't flame women or children."

   For some reason Cass didn't feel reassured by that statement. "Would you like to come inside with me, Gwen?"

   Those hazel eyes widened even farther. "Oh aye, my lady." Then she hastily added, "Cook says my curiosity will get me flogged one day."

   "They flog you?"

   "Oh aye. Ye can do anything ye want with a slave. Ain't got no rights, ye see. Ye don't seem to know much, lady. Where ye come from?"

Cass smiled. "A private school."

   "Not a very good 'un, then." She sucked in a sharp breath and added, "No offense, my lady. Cook says I talk too much. Probably get flogged for that someday too."

   "Not if I have any say about it," muttered Cass as she pushed open the door. She walked into what might have been a parlor if it had held more than two chairs by the fireplace and a footstool. She went into the adjacent room, which looked to be a private dining room by the bare table sitting in the middle of it. Another door led into a small sitting room, which held another door that led into an empty bedchamber with two bare bedsteads. Beyond the sitting room lay the master bedchamber, boasting a large box bed with black drapery, a wardrobe, and her own trunks. A small door led to a washroom, with a wooden seat above the chamber pot and a washstand. She hadn't been sure what to expect after the glorious richness within the rest of the palace, but the austerity of the apartments rivaled that of her boarding rooms. At least there, furnishings from home had surrounded her.

   The only light came from the fireplaces, so Cass lit a candle and viewed her rooms again. They did not improve with illumination.

   "The general don't like frippery," piped Gwen. "He says it makes ye soft."

   "I see. Does he not like servants as well?"

   "He makes do for himself, 'cause he says—"

   "It makes him soft; yes, Gwen, I begin to understand." Cass walked over to the bed and sat on the edge of it with a bounce. Hard, of course. "Well, at least he allows servants to make the bed and lay the fire. I daresay I'm glad you came with me. I shall have someone to undo my buttons."

   Gwen frowned. "I don't have much practice with those, my lady, but I'm a fast learner."

   Cassandra eyed Gwen, a sudden brilliant idea forming in her head. "I believe you are. I find I'm in need of servants, Gwen. How would you like to work for me?"

   The child rocked back on her heels. "Oh, my lady. Ye can't go hiring slaves. The servants won't stand for it."

   Cass swept her head about the room. "I don't see any here to complain."

   "But, but… the Imperial Lord won't like it."

   And Cassandra certainly couldn't afford to anger him any further. "Well then. I shan't officially pay you. But if you are to attend me, I shall have to buy you new clothes and fatten you up a bit, for a lady cannot have you waiting on her looking as you do now."

   Gwen screwed up her face. "I suppose not."

   "That's settled, then. In fact, I believe I shall visit the kitchens tomorrow, for surely I will need more than one helper."

   "If… if yer sure, my lady."

   "Quite. Now, for your first instruction." Cass squatted, held down her hoops, and showed her back. "Take one side of the cloth and push the button through while gently tugging on the other side."

   "I know how," Gwen said in disgust. "Just don't have much practice." The girl's little fingers started fumbling, and Cass suppressed a giggle because it tickled. "Lor', there must be a hundred of them, lady."

   Gwen loosed her giggle. "I'm sure you're up to the task."

   "Oh yes. This is much easier than turning a pig roast."

   Cassandra continued to laugh while Gwen helped her undress. The lacing of her stays proved too difficult for the child to undo, so Cass just left it on over her chemise. She'd purchased a lovely nightgown to please her new husband, but despite Mor'ded's assurances, she felt sure the general would be spending the night with his mistress so it wouldn't signify anyway.

   Cass crawled up on the hard bed and yawned.

   "Is there anything else I can do for ye, lady?"

   "No, dear, I think it's time you were off to bed yourself. Tomorrow we will see about making up the servants' bedchamber for you, but tonight I'm afraid you'll have to go back to the kitchens."

   "Oh, I can sleep anywheres. Sometimes I go to the kennels with the dogs when it's cold."

   Cassandra widened her eyes in horror. "Then we shall have to give you a good scrubbing before you return."

   Gwen returned her look of horror. "But the water will make me sick."

   "I promise it shan't. The nuns at my school taught me better."

   Gwen humphed, already having given her opinion of Cass's education, but dragged her feet to the door. "I suppose," she sighed. "It will be hard to work for ye."

   "I suppose." Cass yawned again. The stress of the day seemed to have caught up with her. Despite the hardness of the bed, she found herself falling back onto it.

   "Yep, likely to be more of a chore 'n scraping carrots." The patter of her bare feet sounded all the way to the double doors leading out to the hall. Cass realized she should see about shoes for the girl as well.

   Gwen's voice drifted through the quiet length of rooms. "Ye won't forget to come fetch me, will ye?"

   "Of course not, Gwendolyn," called Cass. "Who shall unbutton me tomorrow night?"

   And with that assurance, the door closed with a rattle, and alone in a strange room, Cass chided herself. What did she think she was doing? Setting up a household as if she had a right to. Why did she have to keep reminding herself that her marriage was nothing more than a falsehood? That this would never be her home, nor would she ever wish it to be. She had a larger task than improving the lives of a few slaves; indeed, she had the means to free them all. If she succeeded.

   But it could be months before she found the right opportunity. Her mind balked at the thought that it could be years, for she couldn't imagine living years with these heathen people in this dreadful place. Besides, she had resigned herself to a short life. And the herbs she used to prevent a child might not be as reliable as she hoped. No, she could not be in this situation for long.

   "But still," she whispered to the empty walls, "I will have to have my buttons undone in the meantime."

   And with those words she must have dozed off, for a sudden loud noise made her jump up in bed, blink sleepily at the clock over the hearth. Late night or early morning, she could take her pick, but hadn't the time to decide before a large shadow entered the room. Her husband had decided to forgo his mistress tonight after all. Cass's heart started pounding, and all vestiges of sleep fled as General Dominic Raikes's cold gaze surveyed the room and then finally settled on her.

   "Take off your clothes."

   Good Heavenly Lord. Cass could only stare at him in sheer terror.

   "Are you deaf, wife? I said undress." He stood with his hands on his hips, in nothing but his breeches and hose. Had he shed his clothes on the way to their bedchamber, or were they strewn about his mistress's rooms?

   The thought managed to pump a bit of anger through Cass. Another humiliation to add to the ones he'd already subjected her to today. "I cannot undo the laces of my stays. And there were no servants to help me."

   She thought he scowled, but it might have been her imagination, for the candle she'd lit had burned down, and she had only the light from the dying fire to see him.

   "You should learn to do for yourself. Depending on others only makes you weak."

   She swallowed a retort that he didn't have backlacing stays or hundreds of buttons where one couldn't reach, because he started for her and fear locked her throat. When he stood close enough to touch, she began to tremble. She'd heard the other girls in school whisper about the act. Nothing she'd heard had prepared her for this moment. Her husband was a horrible monster and would show her no mercy. She didn't know whether to scream or kill him.

Four

Cass could do neither. Nor could she afford to hate him, as much as she would like to. It would not serve the Rebellion's cause.

   "Turn around," he ordered. She obeyed and braced herself, expecting him to rip the laces from the fabric. But his fingers barely touched her skin, his hands gentle as he unlaced the ties and eased the stays off her. Then he made a noise in his throat, and Cass looked over her shoulder.

   Fie, how she wished he weren't so beautiful. The firelight gleamed in his silver hair, danced along the muscled planes of his naked chest. His eyes appeared enormous in the half-light, dark and mysterious and capable of stealing her soul. Her fear of him didn't stop her from wanting to run her hands down that smooth, pale skin just to feel the texture of it.

   His lip quirked at her inspection and her eyes flew to his mouth, remembering his kiss, wondering if he would kiss her again. Hoping and dreading it all at the same time.

   "Turn around," he ordered again, then reached out, seized the cloth at the shoulders of her chemise, and ripped it off over her head.

   Lady Cassandra gasped and tried to cover herself with her hands.

   "Don't," he said, then spread his arms, and Cass felt the force of his magic. The fire flared to new life, lighting up the room, making her blink. She hadn't realized the strength of his magic and it made her fear him all the more.

   She kept her arms by her sides by sheer force of will, feeling a flush crawl up her body to her face. He studied her the same way she had him; but she had only a touch of the elven blood, couldn't compare herself to his beauty, and feared he found her lacking.

   Her goal had been to please her new husband, to gain his trust if not his affection. Cass lifted her chin. She needed to stop acting like some innocent schoolgirl and try to please him but didn't have the faintest idea how to go about doing that. Why hadn't Thomas taught her how to manage this?

   "Lie down," he said as he moved to the other side of the bed, released the tie from around the canopy curtain. The black cloth fell, casting her into shadow, making it easier to lie flat on her back, her body exposed to his gaze. He untied the curtain at the foot of the bed but held it for a moment, his black gaze fastened on her rigid body. "Spread your legs."

   Lord of mercy. Please help me. He would have a view of… She couldn't do it. The thought of her most private area exposed to his emotionless gaze set her trembling even harder. Did he purposely seek to embarrass her? Or did his mistress treat him to the sight this evening and he expected only the same from her?

   "I… I can't."

   His mouth twisted. "Don't you want to please your husband?"

   "No. I mean, yes. I mean—"

   He laughed, allowed the curtain to fall, cutting him off from view. "You are the innocent I was promised," he said from behind the barrier of the drapery, his voice low and muffled. "Well done, Father."

   When he appeared again next to her, she suppressed a yelp and chided herself. Her fear would only make this worse. She closed her eyes and froze. She would just hold still and endure. That's what the other girls in school had advised each other. There would be some pain, but if one held still and silent, the man would finish all the more quickly.

   And right now, all Cassandra could hope for was a quick end to her husband's attentions.

   The fire subsided to a normal glow and he sat next to her, dropped the one remaining curtain, shutting them inside the box bed, effectively cutting them off from the rest of the room, the rest of the world. Plunging them into complete darkness.

   Nothing could save Cassandra now.

   She widened her eyes, unable to see a thing, hoping he couldn't either regardless of his superior elven sight. It made her relax a bit, feel a little less exposed. She heard him move, felt the warmth of his fingers touch her arm.

   Cass jumped then froze again.

   She waited for him to give her another order. Waited for him to violate her with that cold harshness he always used with her.

   But his hand trailed up to her neck, gently stroking, smoothing back her tousled hair. His touch sent little shivers racing through her body and she gritted her teeth against the shock of it. He stilled, and she could hear only her little pants, the smooth rhythm of his breathing. She sensed a change in him, felt him relax, as if he released some barrier and it eased him.

   Then he curled one arm beneath her shoulders and his other beneath her bottom and gathered her up against the smooth warmth of his chest. He held her there for the longest time, until her trembling eased and her muscles went lax. Until she slowly became aware of the hardening length of him beneath her backside.

   He smelled like some exotic spice and she breathed in the delicious scent. She could feel the beat of his heart, and it comforted her that although he looked like an angel, he felt very much like an ordinary man.

   Her husband kissed her hair and it made her tremble, but not with fear this time. With something else, a wanting she couldn't quite define. His lips trailed kisses down to her brow and the heat of them, the tender soft feel of his mouth, made her bold. Cass leaned back her head and met his lips with her own.

   It happened again. Just like when he had kissed her in the abbey. She became aware of nothing but the feel of his mouth on hers, the texture of his tongue as he slipped inside her own welcoming warmth. The fire that spread from her breasts to her most private place. Time stopped and she didn't know how long he held her, tasting her, showing her the pleasure he could bring her.

   He shifted and she barely noticed, too intent on the feelings his kiss evoked. She moaned, the sound loud in the silence of their cocoon, and lifted her arms, curling them around his broad shoulders. She could feel the strength of his muscles beneath the silk of his skin, could tell he held that strength in check. For her.

   The realization emboldened her. Since the first time she had seen him, she'd longed to touch that silver-white hair. Her hands crept up to his neck and she buried her fingers in the silky softness of it. Fine as the strand of a spider's web, but so thick it created a heavy fall that reached the lower part of his back. Cass stroked it, resisting the urge to purr with utter delight.

   She didn't know when his hand had covered her breast. When the warmth of his palm finally penetrated her senses, she didn't start or tremble with fear. She moaned and pressed against his touch. His mouth slipped away from hers, traveled down her throat. He shifted her and pressed kisses along her collarbone, and then lower until she felt his mouth replace his hand, circling her nipple in some slow dance.

   Her fingers clenched in his hair when he drew her nipple into his mouth. She had never imagined such a thing. Couldn't have anticipated the jolt that went through her. As he drew on her bud again and again, her body responded with an answering ache of need. Cass squirmed with the want of it, not understanding what was happening to her but hoping he knew how to soothe it.

   He continued to hold her with one arm, arching her back, turning his attention to her other breast. It happened all over again and Cass moaned.

   Then he touched her thigh, spread his fingers wide, and smoothed his large hand down over her knee, then to her calf. Her attention strayed from his mouth for a moment. No one had ever touched her so intimately before and yet it seemed as natural as if he had always owned the right to her body.

   And then he stroked her other leg with the same rhythmic movements, came back to her thigh, and hesitated a moment. Cass unclenched her fingers from his hair, felt the tie that had held his battle braids away from his face come loose and fall forward. When he lifted his head the braids fell across her sensitized breasts, the strands of fine hair at the ends of them tickling her skin.

   His mouth again found hers. She eagerly opened for him, welcoming the raspy feel of his tongue, the salty-sweet taste of him. This time Cass pressed herself against him, tightening her hold around his neck, wanting him closer and yet feeling he still wasn't close enough.

   She felt his hand cover the triangle of hair between her legs. She would have flushed with embarrassment if she hadn't been so involved in learning how to kiss him properly. He stroked her mouth with his tongue in the same gentle movements that he stroked her downy hair with his fingers. He did it long enough that when his finger dipped lower Cass had become so used to his touch that she barely flushed at the intrusion. He slid his finger deep inside of her and the sensations that caused made her break the kiss with a gasp.

   She wanted to push his hand away, wanted him to stroke her more deeply.

   Cass froze in confusion.

   But the general had no doubts about what she wanted. His fingers continued to stroke and fondle while he buried his face in her neck, licking and sucking at the sensitive skin there. Making her entire body come alive with some need that soon had Cass bucking against his hand, clutching desperately at his muscular shoulders.

   She had never imagined the act of making children would be like this. Cass couldn't quite grasp what had happened to her. He made her body feel things it had never felt before, and heaven help her, she loved it.

   His fingers grew so slick with her wetness that when he sought the nub hidden within her downy hair, it brought wonderful new sensations coursing through her. A sudden tightening replaced the deeper longing that had risen in her womb. What new magic did he perform on her now?

   Tiny tremors shook her as she squirmed beneath his touch. Something lay just within her reach, something that built within her, and Cass couldn't imagine what it might be. But shouldn't she be doing the same to him? Shouldn't she be discovering his body as well? She couldn't learn to please him too if she didn't try.

   Her hands drifted down his shoulders, across his chest. Smooth, hot skin. Rigid muscles beneath. Her fingertips grazed his nipples, and she wondered if he would experience the same pleasure that she had. She gently pushed at his chest until he lifted his head and she could bring her own mouth to his neck. In the darkness she missed and found her lips on the curve of skin that defined the middle of his chest. He tasted salty and clean. Like spring water and ocean spray all at the same time.

   Cass found the peak of his nipple and sucked at it the same way he'd done hers.

   Dominic groaned. A deep sound that she felt rumble in his chest, on her lips.

   And then he pulled away from her.

   For a moment her heart stopped. Had she displeased him then? She feared to ask. Just listened to the harshness of his breathing as he seemed to struggle for control. Then he laughed, a low chuckle that made the hair on her body rise. "You learn quickly, don't you?" he whispered.

   She opened her mouth to respond, but in one graceful movement his entire body covered the length of hers, and she sucked in a breath at the heat of him. The sheer strength and size of his body atop hers. But he didn't crush her. He kept his full weight suspended just above her, while touching every inch of her body with the heat of his skin.

   Cassandra sighed.

   "Spread your legs," he whispered in her ear. But this time it wasn't a command. It sounded almost like… a plea. A prayer.

   Her heart gave a funny little twist and she moved her legs, felt him settle between them. Felt something round and hard and soft and exhilarating prod at the wetness he'd created between her thighs. Felt the resistance within her as he pushed forward. Felt it break as she forgot to be frightened and bucked up to meet him, a small exhalation of pain escaping through her lips.

   And then the pain faded and the general taught her a new dance. A dance she never could have conceived of, that held beauty and grace and a desperate longing to somehow make two people become one. A dance so intimate that she thought she felt his very soul.

   Cass threw back her head and gloried in the sensations he made her feel. No, she could never have imagined anything like this. The feel, the smell, the strength of him…

   She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and buried her fingers in his hair again. One moment she thought him a devil and then the next, an angel, and she truly couldn't decide what sort of man she had married.

   He took long smooth strokes inside of her, making that deep ache in her womb grow again, this time even more fiercely. Cass clenched her teeth against the need to cry out, to demand that he dance faster, harder. She needed… needed…

   He abruptly halted the dance and pulled his upper body away from hers, tearing her arms away from him, and she knew him to be a devil.

   His hand sought the nub just above where their bodies joined, stroking it with a gentle finger while he took up the rhythm of the dance again, and she knew him to be an angel.

   Because now the fierce longing in her womb joined with another feeling, one that made her shiver, made her squirm beneath him, and she could no longer hold back her cries. And then. And then the world split asunder and a wave of glorious pleasure ripped through her, like a swelling tide that continued to rise and fall, rocking her on a tempest of radiant delight.

   "Oh," she cried, startled and amazed.

   The demon laughed. He pulled his hand away and lowered his chest atop hers again, kissing her forehead, her cheek, her lips. Then he lunged inside of her so swiftly, so deeply, that she thought it would hurt. But somehow he knew, knew it was exactly what she needed, knew she could encompass the full length of him.

   Indeed, Cassandra fought for more.

   She clutched at his shoulders, lifted her hips up to meet his. Her fingers roughly tangled in his hair, and she wrapped her legs around him, digging her heels into his bottom, forcing him ever deeper inside of her. She didn't beg, she demanded.

   And her husband complied with a growl of feral pleasure.

   The world split asunder for Cass again, but this time it was a deeper pleasure. As she rode it, she felt Dominic's body stiffen, heard his intake of breath, and then he shook as well, his harsh pants mingling with her own sighs. His release made her buck against him again, take him deeper, as if she sought to take his seed completely into her womb.