“Then I won’t,” said William and grinned like he’d managed some great triumph. He pushed the straps from her shoulders, and Alora, in response, tangled her fingers in the collar of his shirt.
William moaned in her ear before his lips pressed against the shell of it, his hands stroking her bared shoulders before dipping lower. Alora could hardly breathe from the sensation of it, every nerve coming alive and eager for his touch. She shifted closer, until her body was pressed against his, her hands beginning the task of pulling apart every button of his clothing. She thought of nothing else, nothing but the sensations racketing through her,the heat pooling at her core. She wanted to be free of everything, to lie entirely bare before him, and him bare too. To feel his skin on hers. It didn’t matter anymore who he was, what he looked like. That his aftershave was a shade near overpowering. It didn’t matter that she barely knew him and what she did left her feeling more than a little uneasy. She’d take him here. She’d take anyone.
William’s hand was pressed to her abdomen, his warm mouth on her barely concealed chest, pushing her down, and she made to give in, her eyes fluttering open.
To the darkness pooling under the door.
Can it be so late?
She thought she should care but couldn’t, with William’s hand more insistent against her and her body molding like clay to the pressure. But the darkness built, leeching the color from the floor. The sight of it caused her chest to hitch beneath William’s adamant administrations. Something was happening. Should she be afraid?
She wasn’t.
Not even when the door burst open.
William swung around the same moment Alora collapsed back onto her elbows. She couldn’t see anything. Nothing but black, black, black, and then suddenly a shape. Not the night, but a man. A man coated in darkness and hooded. A familiar mask.
“Oh,” she breathed, and bit her lip against the yearning having overcome her. He was so tall. All of him a mystery to be revealed. Would he join them? It didn't matter that he’d threatened and lied to her only minutes—hours?—before. She’d experienced the strength in his arms, knew what his heartbeat sounded like. He felt dangerous, but thegoodkind. She’d gladly welcome him in.
She shifted her leg against the other, anything to relieve the ache.
But she didn’t think the hooded Urchin looked at her. In fact, she’d bet anything he only spared his wicked black eyes for William. William with his shirt undone, his waistband riding low on his hips. Alora, attention happily diverted, reached for him.
William didn’t stop her. “A knock would have been appreciated, Brother.”
Alora thought William’s grin appeared taunting and wondered why. Her fingers brushed along his toned abdomen. His eyes fluttered closed, and she was satisfied.
“Getawayfrom her.”
“Why should I?” he all but groaned.
Yes, why should he?
Alora lifted to nip at William’s ear, but her gaze found the Urchin’s. “Can I not have you both?”
“Forfuck’s sake, William,” he growled, striding in. “She isn’t a member.”
One moment Alora’s hand was dipping into William’s strained trousers and the next she found herself hauled to her feet by the wrist, pressed tight within the nook of the Urchin’s side. In precise, jerking movements, he pulled the straps of her dress back in place. Alora could have sobbed at the feel of his leather-gloved hands. She wanted themeverywhere.
She glanced back at William who’d gone quite still. “Close enough,” he said, his tone murderous.
“A measure that doesn’t exist. Forget your own lack of morals, have you thought of what he’d say?”
“I don’t care.”
“You are filth.” Every word from the Urchin’s mouth dripped with venom. Alora pulled back in surprise, though he didn’t allow her far. He grabbed her hand. “You’re leaving,” he said to her, and stared at William, daring him to intervene. When he did not, the Urchin bent, scooping up her shoes and stockings into one arm. “Go.” He pointed out the door.
Alora, desperate as she was, did as she was told. She didn’t look back.
With the door closing behind her, she glanced at her hand, tucked tight within the Urchin’s much larger one. It was an upgrade, certainly—even her heart told her so. She’d ask him to leave the gloves on, she decided. She squeezed harder, flexing her fingers and leaning in.
“Stop that,” he said, and pulled his hand from hers. “Put these on.”
Alora took the boots from him even as the loss of his touch felt like a chasm ripped open inside her. She pouted immediately. “You won’t put them on for me?” The thought of him kneeled at her feet sent her body aching all over again. She nearly pitched forward.
“No, I think you can manage.” With a mournful sigh, Alora put on her shoes. Though she stared unabashedly at his bottom half all the while. “Now drink this.”
“What is it?” she said, taking the bottle from him.
