“I’ll be very nice.Please.”
His tongue flicked at her, but he was still teasing her. “What do you want, sweetheart?”
She wasn’t sure what she answered, something that certainly no lady would say, but his response was to let out a low growl. His hand tightened on her thigh, and his mouth went to work in earnest. Pleasure rose in her, and she half feared he would retreat, but this time he brought her to the brink and kept her there. Violet heard cries, panting, moans, and realized the noises were coming from her. Her hands had slid to her breasts and the hard nipples, so she had no thumb to bite to stifle the noises.
And then, suddenly, she was falling. She didn’t know if it was his tongue or his fingers or what he had done, but white light exploded behind her eyes and her entire body contracted and then released in the sweetest crest. The waves crashed over her, subsiding slowly until she was spent and her throat raw with the cries of pleasure. She went limp, her hands falling to the side, feeling the wetness of tears on her cheeks.
She’d never felt anything like that before. She’d felt pleasure, but this was beyond what she had imagined possible.
And then King rose up and levered himself over her. “Do you have the energy for more?”
“No more,” she said. But he chuckled and bent to kiss her as his cock teased the swollen flesh between her legs. To Violet’s surprise, her body reacted to the feel of him. Her legs closed on his slim hips, and her own rose to meet him.
He slid inside her, filling her and stretching her sensitive body, until she was crying out again. The fading tingles of pleasure rushed back as he moved inside her, his thrusts deep and slow and unhurried. She’d wanted him inside her, and she wouldn’t have ever believed he would feel so good there. She told him so, and he kissed her and told her she was the one who felt good.
“You’re driving me mad with the moans you make,” he said. But he didn’t seem to be driven mad. He was so controlled, so attentive. When she made a particularly sharp sound, he repeated what he’d done until she made it again.
And then her entire body was tensing again as he nudged her higher and closer to climax yet again.
“King, I can’t,” she said, breathless with need. But even as she protested, her legs tightened on him, and she pulled his mouth down to hers. She heard his breath catch, felt him swell inside her, and knew he was close. And yet his control never wavered as he brought her, once again, over the edge in a climax that shattered her.
And then he was pulling out of her and groaning as he found his own pleasure. Violet reached for him, wanting the closeness of him again, and a moment later, he was beside her, pulling her into his arms.
She closed her eyes, warm and limp. For the first time in as long as she could remember, she slept deep and untroubled.
Chapter Fifteen
King woke first,the weight of Violet in his arms pleasant enough that he ignored the numbness of the arm she lay on for as long as he could. Finally, he worked it out from beneath her.
He needn’t have worried he would wake her. She was sleeping heavily, her breaths even and deep. He pulled the covers over them and lay awake, listening for any sounds of trouble. He wasn’t certain what had wakened him, but as he heard nothing unusual, he closed his eyes again.
The image of a catapult danced in his mind, and he realized that was why he’d awakened. He’d had an idea for how to deal with Ferryman, and it was one of his best plans yet. Of course, he needed to get Lizzie out first. Violet wouldn’t like that, but King had given his word, and he never broke his word.
The room was dark as midnight, but he could feel it was close to dawn. Once the boys were awake, they would begin on the preparations for his plan.
King closed his eyes to sleep again, and Violet rolled over and snuggled closer.
He liked the feel of her against him, the softness of her hair on his arm, her light floral scent surrounding him. He’d never shared a bed before, never slept close to a woman or held her all night. He’d never wanted to, but he wanted Violet to stay where she was as long as possible. If morning never came, King didn’t think he would mind.
She’d surprised him again last night. First, by coming to him. Of course, he’d known she wanted him. He wanted her even more, but he hadn’t held out any hope he’d ever have her. When she opened the door, he’d thought he was dreaming. And then she was on top of him, and he prayed he was not dreaming. But her body had been warm and alive, and she was no coquette. She would have taken him inside her as soon as they were naked. It made him hard just to think how quickly he might have had her.
Except he hadn’t wanted her like that. He wanted to take his time, learn her body, find out what she liked. He’d wanted to see her tough exterior crack. And he liked to think he’d shattered it. He thought he would have been content just to give her pleasure. The sounds she made and the taste and smell of her intoxicated him. He loved every shiver, every moan, every tensing of her muscles. He might have wished for a candle or lantern so he could see her body, see her face when she climaxed, but there was always next time.
At least, he hoped there was a next time.
Because when he slid inside her, his entire life had seemed to change. She’d felt as good as he’d expected—tight and wet—but something was different. Not the act itself—that was not so very different—but when he was with her, he didn’t want only the physical pleasure. He’d wanted more. He couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was he sought, but he’d wanted to be closer to her, give her more pleasure, give her… He didn’t know. But there had been a tightness in his chest that hadn’t eased until she wrapped her arms about him and came apart. His own climax had seemed less important—not that he hadn’t enjoyed it. More than anything else, he’d wanted her in his arms.
He’d never felt this way, and wondered, idly, if it was some effect of the curse on him. More likely, it was just the effect of Violet Baker. He liked her more every day. He respected her more than he’d ever respected any woman—any man he couldthink of as well. And he cared for her. He didn’t like to admit how much he cared for her, but surely he could admit it to himself.
He knew he was putting all of them in danger by not paying Ferryman what he demanded, but King would rather be beaten bloody again than have Violet risk herself by going to Ferryman’s lair.
The memory of the fight the day before made his bruises twinge with pain. He’d forgotten them completely when he was with Violet, but now his eye throbbed and his lip stung. It might not have been the wisest course of action to kiss her so thoroughly.
And yet…he’d do it again. Hewantedto do it again. He wanted to start all over and kiss every inch of her. King restrained himself, knowing that waking her would mean depriving her of sleep she would need that day in her work at the tavern. Before he’d wished his title and wealth back because he missed the privileges they afforded him. Now he wished them back so he might have given Violet the means to forgo her labors for a day or a week, or longer. He rather liked the thought of lounging about with her all day in his enormous bed. He’d feed her delicacies and make her drunk on the best wines.
And then he imagined taking her to Almack’s or one of Prinny’s garden parties, and he chuckled. She would hate it and probably cause a scene, and King imagined it would be the best event of any Season he’d ever had to endure.
“What are you laughing about?” she asked, her voice croaky with sleep.
