Page 38 of Mistress of Darkness

“No,” she said, before quickly calming herself. She hugged his strong arm and looked into the midnight black of his eyes. “I mean we’re together now. We do this together.”

He covered her hand with his, warming it and her. “Then I shall stay by your side here, until you are ready.”

“I’m ready now,” she said. When he paused and gave her an inquiring look, she squeezed his arm. “Truly. We can go upstairs.”

They took the stairs slowly, arm in arm, and Gwen found that the higher they ascended the tighter she gripped him. As they looked down on the new step that Parks had substituted for the sabotaged step, Robert wound his arm around her waist, but neither of them said anything. There was no trace of where Christopher had shot himself, the blood cleaned away and the marble damaged by the musket ball replaced.

But when they mounted the top of the steps, Robert looked up and Gwen followed his gaze. Lodged in the ceiling panel was the projectile from the first pistol. It had escaped even Parks’ notice. Robert’s grasp of her became fractionally stronger, but again, there didn’t seem to be words—at least ones they hadn’t already said.

Along the dark hallway, all the doors had been closed.

“Oh,” she whispered softly, disappointed yet again. Perhaps they shouldn’t have come after all.

“Let’s try the knob anyway,” he suggested. As they stood in front of the bedchamber that she had once occupied, Robert reached out his hand, turned the knob, and to her astonishment, pushed the door open.

He beamed at her. “After you, Miss Archer.”

As below, all the furnishings had been draped with cloth, but Gwen recognized each one. She went to the chair and desk where she’d spent time reflecting on the thoughts of the Thornes, and wondering what had become of Miss Wilson. There was the chest of drawers and the dressing table. Beyond in the dressing room she knew was the secret door and dusty passage, and she wondered if anyone would ever enter them again.

She heard Robert close the door as she continued her slow circumnavigation, until finally she ended at the bed. He stole up behind her and slipped his arms around her waist. She closed her eyes, reveling in the delicious warmth of his embrace and the feel of his hard chest pressing into her back.

He put his mouth next to her ear. “Do you remember the first night we spent in this room?”

“Yes,” she whispered, resting her hands on his arms. “How could I forget?”

As his lips grazed her neck, she tilted her head sideways to permit him more room. His breath was soft, seeming to float down the front of her throat and over her chest.

“I’ve thought of nothing else,” he murmured against her skin.

Even as a familiar warmth began to grow in her belly, Gwen tried to think rationally. “The servants,” she whispered harshly. “They might–”

“They’re finished here,” he said. His lips paused on her neck. “If you want me to stop–”

“No,” she breathed. “I don’t think I could bear it.”

In the next instant he hiked her skirts up around her waist, in one smooth movement, causing her to gasp. She knew she was bare to him, but the slither of his hands to the front of her hips pushed that thought from her mind. Instead, she wriggled backward, pushing herself against him, and was rewarded with his moan.

“Oh, Gwen,” he murmured. As she leaned forward and put her hands on the bed, his back arched over her. “Yes, that’s it.” He kissed the nape of her neck. “My sweet, Gwen.”

His fingers slid through her netherhair and to her already wet opening, spreading her as a new heat blossomed under his deft touch. Slowly he circled the pearl of her delight in a slow rhythmic motion, making her clench as her hips tried to follow his movement. Over and over she moved with him, brushing the erection in his trousers with her bare bottom. As fire blazed into her belly, Robert grunted. She could feel his hand behind her, unbuttoning his trousers.

Then, when she thought his clever fingers would finally drive her mad, the engorged dome of his cockhead pushed against her opening. Her nipples puckered against her chemise, as her hands bunched the cloth on the bed so hard she thought she might tear it.

Her hips bucked backwards, trying to urge him inside her. He timed his thrust so perfectly that she almost cried out, but instead bit her lower lip. Her opening fluttered wildly around him as he pushed his hard length into her core. He withdrew and thrust again, then again. Gripping her mound as he massaged her pearl, he pulled her back to him, their bodies thudding together.

“Oh, yes, Robert,” she gasped.

He thickened inside her just as she bore down on him with a clench so savage she thought it might rend her in two.

“Ah!” he groaned, as passion exploded within her, flooding into her belly, her nipples, and to her very fingertips.

Wild fireworks of ecstasy burst behind her closed eyes, as he jerked inside her, and flooded her with his seed. Over and over she milked him, their bodies perfectly slotted together, rocking in time. He jetted again, his chest heaving against her back, as he held her tightly against him. Only after some moments did they manage to quell the aftershocks of their quick coupling. Exhausted, she fell onto the bed, and Robert with her. Gently, he lifted her up onto the mattress so she could lay on her side. He lay behind her, cupping her body with his.

Again his lips found the side of her neck. “I love you, my dear Gwen,” he murmured against her skin.

“I love you, too,” she murmured.

He sighed then, and she heard the utter contentment that she felt. They lay like that in languid silence, until the faint sounds of servants’ voices and carts being wheeled drifted up from below.