“You do not have to be happy or pleasant for others all the time, Madeline,” he whispered, his warm breath smelling of brandy and tarts. She liked it. It smelled like home. “With me, be angry if you are angry. Cry when you feel sad. You do not owe me your smile every hour.”
“Kenneth…” A ragged sob escaped her lips. It did not sound like her, but it also felt right.
“Show me the real Madeline,” he urged. “Let her see the light of day.”
She let out a broken cry, burying her face into his chest. Her fingers clutched at his coat as tears finally came like a torrent. She had never cried freely like this. She had hoped that Kenneth would show her his feelings, even though she herself had been holding back. All of the things that she should have cried about came rushing to her.
Her father’s behavior.
Her ‘friends’ cruelty to her at the Serpentine.
Lady Rose trying to attack her.
Her husband, who did not love her.
There were more, smaller wounds that continued to sting within her. Kenneth held her as she let all the pain go. He had his arms around her, as if he was trying to shield her from all harm, just like he did earlier. He seemed unbothered by how her tears and the red stain were soaking his own shirt.
“I was always worried about how I treat people,” Madeline sobbed. She did not like how thick her voice sounded. “I thought that people would dislike me if I were even involuntarily unpleasant. I was afraid that they would all see the darkness in me.”
“They are fools, Madeline,” Kenneth declared fiercely. He gripped her chin and lifted it up so that he could hold her gaze. “All of those who were cruel to you or laughed at you simply do not have your strength. You should not even care whether such people find you unpleasant just because you do not aim to please them all the time.”
“And you? Do you find me unpleasant?” Madeline sniffed. “Do you dislike me when I am acting like this?”
“I do not dislike you,” he replied. “I could never dislike you.”
His gaze dropped to her mouth. Hers went to his. All the feelings that were building between them exploded, and she did not resist him when he kissed her.
When he latched his lips onto hers, she was thrilled at how their mouths fit perfectly as he kissed her possessively and hungrily. Her salty tears mingled with the sweetness of his kisses. His grip loosened from her waist, his hands moving to her face while she held him by the neck, fingers playing with the curls that touched his nape.
It was a frantic kiss. In the back of her mind, she knew that if they kept on going, they would lose all inhibitions in Baxter House. Anyone could walk in through the heavy doors. Perhaps it was what gave it extra power. An extra thrill. She sighed when he let go of her mouth and trailed kisses down her jaw to the soft, sensitive skin of her throat.
Then, he slid his hands down her waist, pulling her closer to him so she could hear the hammering of his heart.
“I want you, Madeline,” Kenneth rasped, breath heavy, hot, and uneven on her skin. His hands tightened around her, with his fingers digging into the fabric of her gown. She could feel his desperate hunger through every touch and movement. “I do not care about who might find us here. I want you. Right now.”
Madeline felt the same. There was power in his touch that made her want to shed her shame and inhibitions, along with her clothes. Her body instinctively arched into his. He was fire, and she was but a tiny moth.
His hands found the hem of her skirt, pulling it up to touch her thighs. Her body opened to him quickly. It knew how to obey his touch. She whimpered when his fingers reached where he wanted them, even as his rigid cock pressed against her belly.
This.
All he needed to do was touch her to make her forget about her humiliation. His fingers glided against her seam. While her dress felt cold and wet from the wine, she was hot and wet down there, needing him.
“Do you like that?” he asked, slipping a finger inside her.
It was a desired invasion. He moved it in and out of her, making her acutely aware of her growing need. She was always near the edge of an explosion whenever he touched or kissed her.
“Y-yes,” she admitted, as he touched a particularly sensitive nerve within her.
Her legs buckled, and his other hand had to support her, pressing her even closer while his fingers worked her to the very edge.
“Feel that,” he commanded, and she was not certain if he was referring to his cock on her belly or his finger inside her, but she felt both. She felt everything.
Then, his rhythmic motions grew more intense, and the soft moans came from her mouth.
“Yes, Madeline. You are close, sweetheart. So close,” he urged.
His finger curled inside her, while his thumb found her nub and drew circles on it. Over and over. Until finally, her vision blurred and her mouth opened to let out little gasps.
