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“May I kiss you, Grace?”
With a quick inhale, her lips parted, and her lashes concealed her eyes. “Yes,” she whispered.
Moving as slowly as I could, I gently placed my lips on hers. I gripped the back of her head and pulled her into me as I deepened the connection.
Heat coursed through my veins even though we were surrounded in cool water. I wanted more, so much more. But right now, the only thing I would take from this woman was her mouth.
A kiss.
A simple yet powerful kiss.
In private.
Ours and no one else.
This Initiation would only grow in intensity. We would both be pushed to do tasks that neither of us would truly want but we’d still do. But I didn’t want to think about the future or The Order of the Silver Ghost.
I only wanted to focus on this kiss.
I wanted to shield Grace from all the eyes, the lustful thoughts, and the dark desires. She deserved that. She deserved my devotion and respect, and at that very moment, as I dared to dance my tongue with hers, I would only enjoy this private kiss.
14
Grace
The next week was different than the previous had been. On the surface, maybe it didn’t look much different. Montgomery still slept on the floor by the bed and we still didn’t talk very much.
But we ate all our meals together and there was just this… easiness between us that hadn’t been there before.
He smiled at me in the morning when I woke up. And he always woke up before me. I didn’t know how he managed it since neither of us had alarm clocks, but he did.
One day I woke up and found him watching me. He didn’t pretend he hadn’t been. He just smiled and said, “Good morning, Grace. Sleep well?” all calm, cool, and collected.
But that was Montgomery, wasn’t it? Nothing seemed to ruffle him. Except for maybe his father. But he’d put him in his place so solidly at the last Invitation meeting that a stupid, girlish part of me wondered if there wasn’t any obstacle Montgomery couldn’t handle.
Dangerous thinking, so I tried to ignore him as best as I could. Thank God for the mansion’s library and somebody’s affinity for mystery novels. I was working my way through Agatha Christie’s entire catalog, along with some Daphne du Maurier.
In spite of my determination to keep my distance from Montgomery, though, I still found myself excitedly explaining the plot to Jamaica Inn over a sunny lunch we’d decided to eat on the south terrace.
“It’s so much better than Rebecca. Why does everyone go on and on about Rebecca when Jamaica Inn is so much better! There’s pirates and shipwrecks and more going on than just one boring old psycho ghostly ex. Way more dead bodies too, and you know a good thriller always has a respectable body count by the end.”
Montgomery laughed. “Can’t say I’ve ever looked at it that way.”
But my breath had stopped in my chest from staring at Montgomery.
What had we been talking about again? God, it was unfair he was so handsome. I bit my bottom lip.
Last night I had a sex dream about him. Totally out of the blue.
He’d just led me down the elegant central staircase and I was wearing the black collar.
But this time there was no one at the bottom of the stairs. It was just us.
He was just as rough and dominant as he’d been that night, though. Taking me with that raw, unbridled need. More passionate than I’d ever known a man could be.
I’d woken twisted in the sheets and panting in the middle of the night.
Montgomery was as silent as always on the floor beside the bed. Had I cried out and woken him? Or was he still sleeping and I was being paranoid?
I thought for sure I’d never be able to fall back asleep, but before I knew it, the sun was blazing in the windows and he was there smiling down at me and asking me if I’d slept well. I swear there was a smirk in his eyes as he asked it, though.
“You must like reading,” Montgomery said, putting the silver topper over his plate now that he’d finished his meal.
I did the same and leaned back in my chair, feeling stuffed. I’d never eaten so well in my whole life as I had the past couple of weeks.
“I always liked it, but usually I’m too busy. Or other people in the house prefer having the TV on.”
My mom had the TV on 24/7 when I was a kid, and the most recent loser I’d been with either had the sports channel on or video games. I didn’t know which was worse—probably the video games because that meant he was screaming into his headset at teenagers for half the day and into the wee hours of the morning.
