Heart of Iron (London Steampunk #2)

Heart of Iron (London Steampunk #2) Page 26

“Why would you—”

“I already suspected.”

“Please,” she whispered. “Don’t do anything. I don’t want to see him hurt. He gave me a job, Will. He kept me off the streets and looked after me like I was his own.”

Something in his eyes darkened. “And where was your bloody sister in all of this?”

“I never told her.” As he shifted in protest, she put a finger to his lips. “You don’t know what it was like. I couldn’t. We were both working our fingers to the bone merely to provide food and shelter, and Charlie was sick with the first signs of the craving. I didn’t want to be a burden.” Fresh tears sprang forth in her eyes. “And we’d been arguing so much that I didn’t feel as if I could tell her.”

Tears scalded her cheeks. She didn’t think she’d had any left, but then this was an old grief, one much covered over and patched. Honoria had made peace with her about the constant arguments they’d had, but she’d never known what had caused the burning resentment. Lena had been so alone, so angry and scared.

Will dragged her close, crushing her against his body. Lena clung to him, burying her face against his neck. “I’m such a mess,” she tried to say, but the tears wouldn’t stop and the words were distorted. “I’m sorry.”

“Ain’t you as should be sorry.” His voice was dark. “Your bloody sister needs her neck wrung. And as for Colchester—”

She looked up in alarm. “You promised you wouldn’t go near him.”

“That was before I knew what he done.” A nasty little smile curved over his lips. “If it’s any consolation, he ain’t as pretty as he were.”

“Oh, Will, what did you do?”

“Dragged him face-first through a few glass cases.”

The thought sent a vindictive thrill through her. Then she shook her head. “You shouldn’t have. He’ll never forget it. He’ll come after you.”

There was a light touch against her cheek. “Hope he does.” The sound of it was close to her ear.

Realization came slowly. His lips, brushing against her brow. Lena stilled. Her heart started to race. “Will?” She lifted her head.

His expression was dark, considering. He stroked her face with his hand, cupping her chin. His mouth was dangerously close to hers. “God help me.”

Then he leaned forward and kissed her.

His lips were warm and hesitant. Lena sucked in a sharp breath, her heart pounding in her ears. The skin on her cheeks was tight and dry from her tears, but she didn’t care. She lay still and quiescent, not daring to breathe for fear that this dream would all go away.

As if sensing her hesitation, he drew back.

“No,” she whispered and grabbed a handful of his hair. “Don’t you dare.”

Fear of losing him broke the barriers of the dam. Her lips found his in the shadows. She pressed herself wantonly against his body, sinking her fingers into his hair.

He gasped as her tongue darted out and caressed his. His hands cupped her bottom, his body coming over hers and grinding her against him. Every hard inch of him was pressed intimately against her. Heat spilled through her, enveloped her. She rolled her hips instinctively, drawing another gasp from him.

Sweet heavens, this is bliss. She wanted more. She wanted him to capture her mouth, take her, right there and then. But his hesitancy lingered in the gentle nips he took at her lips.

If he drew away again…it would kill her. Lena slid her arms around his damp shoulders, her tongue sliding into his mouth. His back arched, enough to press his hips against hers and still kiss her, with the disparity in height. Lena gasped, drinking at his mouth greedily, her hands hungry across the smooth skin of his back.

Will caught her wrists and pressed her flat, tearing his mouth from hers. “No,” he gasped.

Lena strained against his grip. “I’m tired of hearing that. Damn it, Will, you know I don’t care you’re verwulfen. I proved that!”

He shoved away, rearing up on his knees. “That ain’t the only problem.”

“You don’t want me?” She ran her hands over her breasts, feeling the turgid peaks of her nipples through the thin lawn nightgown. “We both know that’s a lie.”

Will’s face darkened and he rolled toward the edge of the bed. Realizing his intention, she wrapped her legs around his hips and rolled with him. Somehow she ended up straddling his hips. When Will looked at her in surprise, she seized the advantage and pushed him flat onto his back.

No force on earth could make him stay if he didn’t want to with his strength. She pinned his wrists in a desperate maneuver and then realized that he made no attempt to leave. His gaze was fixed on her chest. Or the missing button that had somehow come off in the struggle, she presumed.

Sliding her hands down over the sculpted muscle of his arms, she sat up, resting them on his chest. His belt buckle dug into the tender flesh of her thigh and she shifted, riding over the hard bulge of his breeches. She knew enough to understand what that meant.

Both of them stilled.

“I could hurt you.”

Leaning down, she brushed her mouth against his. Just lightly. Teasingly. “I don’t think you would,” she breathed. Licking his lip and then suckling it into her mouth, something coppery burning on her tongue. Blood. His blood. The split in his lip.

His fingers sank into the soft flesh of her thighs and he sucked in a sharp breath. The strain of his erection brushed against her and she stilled, a flare of heat pulsing through her. How delicious a sensation. With a little shiver, she rolled her hips again, rubbing against him.

Will’s eyes glazed. “You don’t understand.” He sucked in a sharp breath, the hiss of it rasping between his teeth. “Can’t think. When you do that. Damn it.” His hand urged her against him. “Stop it, Lena.”

Lena threw her head back, riding over him again. “Why would I want to do that?” She gasped herself, wetness smothering her drawers. It felt so good. So right. And it was driving him wild.

He bared his teeth at her. The whites of his eyes were showing. “I’ll hurt you. I can’t.” His hands, however, told another story. They fisted in the hem of her nightgown, strain tautening the knuckles. “Damn it.”

Lena ground against him again. She was wet through, the sensation tearing another gasp from her lips.

The sound of ripping silk opened her eyes. The chill of the room penetrated and she looked down as he tore her nightgown up the center.

“Will!”

He leaned up, biting at her lips, tugging at her arms. This time there was no hesitation as he claimed her mouth roughly, jerking her hips against him. The nightgown hung from her shoulders, trapping her arms against her side. She wanted to touch him, to run her hands over the smooth skin of his biceps, but she couldn’t.

Her breasts were bare, the hair on his chest rubbing against the sensitive tips. Sensation exploded through her and she lost time and any sense of propriety. Her careful, practiced kisses gave way to mindless hunger, driving her tongue against his, her body pressed hard to his own. Groaning, she shrugged the nightgown off her arms and then slid them around his neck.

His cock was huge and firm against her. Will bit her lip, then her chin, sliding his mouth down her throat. Lena threw her head back and moaned as he bit his way down her sensitive flesh.

“God, you taste so fuckin’ good,” he snarled.

Arching her back, she dug her hands into his silky hair. His mouth rasped over her nipple, teeth grazing the sensitive bud. Lena’s eyes went wide, her hips jerking involuntarily. It felt so good. Heat speared through her, sinking its claws into her stomach, and lower… She couldn’t stop herself. Her body seemed owned by someone else. A creature of need. Of frenzied hungers. Thrusting her breast into his mouth, she raked her nails across his shoulders, through his hair, clenching wet fistfuls of it as his mouth wreaked havoc on her body.

Wild, amber eyes met hers and Will dragged her head back, suckling the tender skin of her throat, his teeth sinking into the smooth curve of her shoulder. The hair on his chest rasped against her breasts and Lena cried out, grabbing one of his hands, sliding it lower, over her thigh and under her nightgown. She needed him to touch her. Needed…something.

She writhed in a torment of embarrassment and desire as his palm ground between her thighs.

“Don’t stop,” she whispered, running her hands through his hair. She was so close… To what, she didn’t know, but if he stopped right now, she’d kill him.

An enormous clatter of sound broke through her concentration. Will stiffened, his fingers stilling.

Lena dragged his face back to hers, shaking her head. “Just a drone,” she whispered, licking at his mouth and tasting blood again. “Just the servants.”

“Lena.” He caught her wrists, withdrawing his mouth from hers. “Lena!”

“Don’t go.”

“I’m sorry.” He looked up at her, his voice hoarse with desire, eyes wild with need. “This were a mistake.”

The nervous anticipation faded. Lena caught his wrist as he pushed away from her and sat up. “A what?”

“A mistake,” he repeated harshly, forcing her grasping hands away.

He couldn’t have struck her a firmer blow. She yanked the ruins of her nightgown to her breasts and stared at him, despair aching in her chest. He couldn’t do this to her again.

Taking a step back from the bed, he fumbled for his shirt. “I have to go.” That insane gleam was still in his eyes.

“Will,” she whispered, clinging to her torn nightgown. “You don’t have to go. Nobody would hear us. Nobody would ever know—”

The look he gave her was raw, ragged. “I have to go. I’m sorry.”

And then he was gone, the wind and the rain tumbling into the room, lightning flashing against the casing.

Fifteen

“Anythin’ on your mind?” Blade asked.

Will smashed another fist into the punching bag, earning a grunt from Blade. He followed it up with a left-right-left combination, his knuckles burning. “Not a thing,” he grunted, unleashing an uppercut that drove the bag—and Blade—back a foot.

“Hold.” Blade held up a hand, breathing hard. “Need a moment. You bin at this an ’our. Not all of us ’as the stamina these days.”

Will raked a hand through his hair. He was barely winded. And still on edge. The memory of Lena’s lithe little body was imprinted on his skin. He’d spent half the night with a cock-stand, unable to keep his mind on his job. Rip had been prowling the rooftops of the rookery with him, keeping an eye on things. Finally, the other man had told him to buy a whore and get his mind back on duty before stalking off in disgust.

No woman. Not for him. He should never have gone to her last night. Never given in to the temptation.

He needed to ease the pressure the only way he knew how. A safe way.

“You want a bout in the ring?”

“Absolutely not.” Blade looked up from where he was bent over, his hands on his knees. “Don’t know what’s set you off this mornin’, but I ain’t goin’ anywhere near those fists today.”

Will turned, snatching at his towel. He loosened his collar and dragged the towel over the back of his neck. The urge to ask Blade for advice was nearly overwhelming. But Blade had his own worries, his own concerns. The last thing he needed was Will telling him he’d nearly lost his mind last night and fucked his wife’s sister. Or about the curious letter he’d found on Lena and the threat of Colchester.

Neither of them could afford to have Blade drawn into a confrontation with the Echelon.

Blade raked his light brown hair out of his eyes. It seemed to be darkening with every passing day, courtesy of Honoria’s vaccinated blood. Will scowled. He’d been the one Blade had turned to when he feared he was close to becoming a vampire; the one who was supposed to kill him before that happened. He could thank Honoria for taking away the burden of that heavy task, but now another problem loomed.

Straightening up, Blade sighed. “Don’t look at me with those bloody eyes. Fine. Mebbe a quick bout. Just remember, I ain’t whoever’s been givin’ you grief.”

Will kicked off his boots and stepped onto the soft carpeting, tossing his shirt over a nearby chair. Blade stripped down too, rubbing at his knuckles. Though shorter than Will by nearly a foot, he was lean and well-muscled—and dangerously quick. There wasn’t a trick he didn’t know, and no sign of the knife wound he’d taken. The craving virus had healed it completely.

“Ain’t seen much of you this week,” Blade said, drawing his fists up.