The Dirigible Airship Disaster Page 10

  “Oh, girl.” Calista laughed, giving a wave of her hand and standing. She towered over me, all tall and lithe and smelling like the turquoise tropics and carnival candy. “From what he has told me and from what I have discerned through my own channels-”

  “Your spying,” I said, pursing my lips as my fingers tightened around the handle of the mug.

  She smiled tersely, and her eyes narrowed for a moment. “The two of you are due for a reunion. And then once you are finished, you’ll be released into his custody.”

  “His?!” I scoffed, my eyes widening.

  Callista’s face darkened and a flash of fear ran through me as her voice lowered into a commanding whisper. “His. And he will return you to me when I call for you. Thank me later, Ms. Delafayette.” She turned, opening the door, closing the latch and disappearing somewhere down the dark corridors of the house.

  She left me there, alone, with nothing to accompany me but the crackling log in the fire and the delectable smell of the dish she’d brought. At least I’d be going back to Savannah, and then maybe before dawn I could hit Samuel blasted Quartermaine over the head with something heavy and make a dash back home. Mr. Pembroke still had an old family estate somewhere in the foothills of the Appalachians I could escape to. I finished off the coffee, set the mug on the tray and sat on the bed.

  Swallowing hard, I dared myself to glance over at the hole in the wall. It was black, empty. Maybe she wouldn’t be watching after all. Or she’d show up later, put her perverted, beautiful slanted eye to that hole and get her fill however she did it. I wasn’t so sure I’d want to join her stupid coven anyway if that’s what I had to do to gain sustenance. Sighing, I put the tray in my lap, and cut the chicken into methodical rows, thinking the order of something so mundane might calm my racing thoughts.

  He was here. He’d come for me. My hand shook as I speared a piece of chicken on the end of my fork, brought it to my lips and took a bite. It was amazing. All thoughts left my head as I devoured the dish, reveling in the savory cream, the tender meat, and the herbed noodles swimming in the thick sauce.

  When I’d had my fill, wiping the bowl as clean as I could without licking it like an undignified, starving urchin, I wiped my mouth on the cloth napkin she’d left, embroidered with the letters ‘A.M.’ in black thread. Glancing over at the hole in the wall, my eyes narrowed; it was still empty. I tossed down the napkin and scoffed, and carried the tray over to the dresser and set it down. The crystal trays and the mug clinked like tiny bells. The meal and the coffee had invigorated me, and I felt like I’d just awoken from a satisfying, long nap. I guess the drink had been caffeinated. I glanced around the room for a clock, but couldn’t find one. The absence of it only added to the fugue-like state I found myself in. I could only guess at the time, but I hoped it wasn’t too late.

  I found Callista’s demands and her demeanor strange, infuriating, intriguing and tempting, and my better instincts screamed at me to discern her motives and the deal she offered in more detail before acting, but my head felt full of cotton. I looked over at the fire, and eyed myself in the mirror, the flames of the firelight dancing in my unruly hair. Appearing otherworldly, I brought my fingertips to my cheek and a sigh escaped my lips at the touch. A shiver ran through me, but instead of feeling cold, I felt hot, like an internal oven had been set to pre-heat.

  A strange, floating, effervescent feeling formed in my solar plexus, like an invisible, kind hand was lightly tugging a string attached to the area below my naval in time to my breathing. My skin seemed to tingle and dance in the glow of the room, and I wondered what she’d put in the dish, or perhaps it had been in the coffee. A giggle bubbled up from my chest, and I slapped my hand over my mouth, my eyes growing wide. Suddenly, Honesty—an intrusive houseguest—entered the room, settling in with the now calm Apprehension and her equally subdued sister, Curiosity. They eyed Honesty up and down from their plush wingbacks in the cobwebbed recesses of my mind, wondering to themselves over the hooks of their crooked noses what she had to confess that was so important, considering the dire circumstances. My hands, wrists, and lower arms felt like floating dirigibles.

  Callista’s brazen assumption that a reunion between myself and Samuel was overdue was hardly incorrect. In that moment, standing there alone in the dim room, my nerves on fire with some arousing drug, I acknowledged my own fragile resolve. I didn’t believe I could have held out from his advances even if I hadn’t been artificially compelled, and now that I was . . . my heart fluttered, and I sucked in a deep breath before unlashing my kimono and dropping it to the floor.

  With shaking fingers, I unharnessed the chainmail, slipping it over my head. Samuel, with his deep, blue eyes and his soft kisses. I bit my cheek, tossing the chainmail on top of the dresser and the edge of it hit the tray with a clink. Samuel, and his endearing impropriety. Shaking my head, I tore off the silver necklaces, suddenly aghast at the thought of him not being able to touch me with them on, and threw them on top of the chainmail like they were venomous snakes. One, or maybe several I couldn’t be sure, fell off the back of the dresser, lost to the fortress forever. I laughed, deeply, my ribs aching and tears squeezing from the corners of my eyes. Once I caught my breath, wiping away the tears, I sensed someone moving outside my door. With a gasp, and a gaping, nervous and giddy mouth, I reached down to the floor and grabbed the kimono, lashing it quickly, hugging it to me. Although I shivered, like the outside layer of my body had been dipped in ice, my insides boiled and swirled like liquid heat. I kicked off my shoes, giggling at the way they soared through the air and fell to the floor with soft thuds at odd angles. A knock sounded at the door, and I gasped, holding my breath before the latch clicked. The door swung open, and he appeared.

  Those deep, blue eyes appeared black, round, and primordial in the soft glow of the firelight, and they searched me, standing there with a shake to my knees. Concern etching the corners of his mouth and forehead thinly veiled an animalistic urge leeching off him that I could feel as palpably as the heat from the hearth. I grit my teeth for a moment as he closed the door, his eyes never leaving mine, and my core, the area being tugged to life by the invisible hand, ignited like a spinning gear in hot oil. His approach was a slow agony, and his footsteps were light on the floorboards like a floating apparition. Before I could catch my quickened breath, he stood in front of me, close enough to touch, or to kiss, or to ride to the moon and back.

  He trailed a calloused finger down the side of my face, brushing aside a loose lock of my hair, and the creature inside me awakened, roaring like a rabid beast, and I pushed him onto the bed.

  “Now, I know you’re mad,” he said, his face crumbling, his palms facing the ceiling like a surrendering fugitive.

  “Shut up,” I said, crawling on top of him.

  His hands shuddered, stiffened, and gripped the edge of the bed.

  All thoughts left my fuzzy head, and he was hard and strong beneath me, smelling like sandalwood and half a death. I had a terrible urge to die on top of him, screaming. The surprise in his eyes urged me onward, and I brought his hand to my lips, and bit the edge his thumb, sucking it deeply with my eyes closed. His breath shuddered, spinning the gear inside me harder, and he tasted like spring in the mountains after the harsh, winter thaw. As his large, strong hand slid up my thigh, to the ticklish curve of my waist, I let him go, and he splayed his hand across my neck as I threw my head back. He trailed lower down my throat as a moan escaped my lips.

  “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his fingers resting on the cleft at the base of my neck. His touch was light, tender and slow. His fingertips were the ends of lit matches, setting my body on fire.

  “Show me,” I said, leaning down to his mouth. The smell of his cologne sent my pulse into overdrive, and the soft place between my legs became hot, and ached, longing for his touch, to be filled with him.

  Our kiss sent sparks flying behind my eyes, and the soft feel of his hungry lips, the stubble on his chin brush
ing against my jaw was a bacchanalian feast, and that one touch awakened a frenzy inside of me.

  I moaned into him, and unlashed my robe, almost ripping the sash. I couldn’t get it off fast enough. I wanted his mouth and his head and his hands and his everything glued to me, pressed up and into my body until I saw stars. His hands splayed across my backside, grinding me into his hard cock. I kissed the side of his mouth, and whispered against his lips, “Touch me. I need you to touch me.”

  I heard his breath catch and release in a warm gust, fanning my cheek, sending a shiver through me. Grabbing his hands, I reared up and placed them over my breasts, guiding them over my feverish skin, dying to feel him pinch my hard nipples. His warm, calloused hands squeezed my breasts, causing a moan to rumble up through my neck. My insides turned to jelly, and I couldn’t catch my breath.

  He seemed to sense my wanton desire, and with his forefingers, he pinched the sensitive, aching buttons of my nipples, squeezing them tight, easing up on the grasp, then squeezing them again in a pulsating, dizzying motion. I gasped, my heart skipping a beat as he twisted them. The pain, chased by pleasure hot on its tail, had my head swimming. I’d never felt so sensitive. My underside clenched and liquified, and I grabbed his hand, keeping the one over my pounding heart, and guided his fingers into my hot center.

  He pawed at me, rubbing the sensitive, wet nub of my clitoris and I bit my lip, his teasing touch almost unbearable. I feared I would cum right then, and I longed to feel him in me before falling over the cliff. Plunging his fingers into me, I clenched around his invasion, stars in my eyes as he leaned up to kiss me. His tongue against mine was pure honey, the taste of a sweet pomegranate, the promise of life renewed. With his strong arms all around me, embracing me and his tongue running down the sensitive side of my neck, he rolled me over onto my back, and I wrapped my legs tight around him as he unbuckled his trousers, slipping them off, and unbuttoned his shirt. He tossed them over the bed. His belt hit the floor with a clang, and I watched him become exposed to me, mesmerized.

  I writhed beneath him, completely lost in the feeling, my body taking over. Kneading my breasts, rubbing the taut, raw nipples, I stared into his face, and his eyes roved the sight of me touching myself, needing him to fill me.

  He cupped my face in his hand as he freed his hard, twitching cock. “That’s it,” he whispered, a sheen of sweat appearing on his upper lip.

  I turned my face and bit his thumb again, sucking his finger and he groaned, holding his huge cock in his fist. I shivered at the sight of it in the corner of my eye.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, rubbing the head of his cock over my swollen, throbbing nub.

  I cried out, dying to feel him take me. The head of his cock slipped over my opening, and he pressed it over my clit, applying firm pressure, forcing me to hold my breath until he let up. With his head right at my door, knocking frantically, he slipped the tip of his cock into me and I gasped as he slowly entered. Oh, it was agonizing, the tease. He kept doing it with his eyes to my face, slipping the head in, only stretching me so far before I wanted to bite his thumb, or scream out in frustration.

  The slow of our passion gave me a moment to really see and recognize what we were doing. I was under him, legs splayed, shivering and writhing, filled with an animalistic desire that was driving me to a frenzy. My insides felt on fire, and a sudden fear seized me.

  He was watching me, and I fell into his gaze. I needed him to comfort me, and end my torment. “I feel strange,” I said.

  “I know.” He pushed into me again and my eyelids fluttered closed before his voice filled my head, his breath fanning my neck. “Just relax,” he whispered.

  I moaned, my eyes still closed, and a torrent of pleadings wished to escape me. He outlined my parted lips with his forefinger. “Open your mouth.”

  He pressed the pad of his thumb against my bottom lip, forcing it open, and he traced the tender, inner outline of my bottom lip.

  “Show me your tongue,” he said, and the fire that had filled his eyes seemed to extinguish and become filled with a dark determination and focus. My loins ached and clenched around the head of his cock as he kept it right there at my opening, still and teasing, just barely pushing me open.

  “You want it? My big, hard cock?”

  I nodded, his fingertip still holding my mouth open. I couldn’t help it; the ache was unbearable. I needed him to massage it out of me, fill me up.

  “Stick your tongue out,” he said, louder this time.

  I did what he said, for if I didn’t, I was terrified he would stop, and leave me there alone on the bed with my body ignited.

  He sighed, rubbing the center of my tongue in little circles with the tip of his index and middle finger. “Oh yeah baby, that’s so hot. I’m gonna cum right there on your tongue, in your mouth.”

  Surprise, arousal and tiny bit of delicious fear coursed through me, a dizzying mix. His dick twitched inside of me, getting harder and larger. I bucked my hips and he pulled out a little, easing the pressure and I groaned. He kept circling my tongue.

  “You love it. You act so rigid and innocent and buttoned-up, but I know how bad you need it.” He removed his fingers, urging me to speak.

  I couldn’t say anything. He brushed my hair away from my feverish forehead, looking at me, seeing me. His mouth met mine, his tongue probing deeply, his lips dancing over mine. I sighed into his kiss, wrapping my arms around him. He slowly pushed his cock into me, stretching me open, invading me at both ends. I opened my legs wider, my toes curling into the bed. I was so hot inside.

  He pulled his lips away from mine, groaning, licking my neck and burying his face into my hair. “Oh, you’re so wet,” he whispered, his voice quivering.

  He plunged into me and gasped, my eyes wide at the feel of him, so big and throbbing. He thrust into me completely, and I felt his tight sack against my bottom. The confession that escaped my mouth bubbled up from deep in my soul, and I was unable to hold it back.

  “I need you to go balls deep,” I whispered into his neck, inhaling the scent of his skin, tasting his sweat on my tongue. I heard his breath catch, and he began to pump into me, plunging deep and hard, grinding his hips against my twitching, swollen clit. My toes curled as he went faster and faster, and I found my legs rising off the bed of their own accord until my feet were in the air, and my heart was hammering away in my throat at double-time to his thrusts. I was so close to the edge already, and my body took over, clenching and squeezing around his ridged cock. Heat boiled and coiled inside of me, and my fingers curled, my nails digging into his skin.

  “I’m so close,” I gasped, whispering against his shoulder, biting him.

  “I know,” he said, stopping, grabbing hold of my hips and flipping us over. I was on top of him, speared by him, looking down at him for once.

  “I need to watch you cum. Ride it,” he said, putting his hand on my backside and smacking me, hard. I bucked against him involuntarily, my flesh smarting. Something inside me yawned, waking from a deep sleep, a hibernation. I moved, slow and timid at first, up and down, bringing him in and out, deep then shallow and back again.

  “That’s it,” he whispered, watching me.

  Dizziness overtook my vision, and little stars danced around the edges of the room. “Samuel, I . . ..” I closed my eyes, tilting my head back, taking a deep breath. His hands, rough and strong, warm, pawed at my breasts, gently rubbing my nipples in tiny circles. The motion invigorated me, bringing me farther from the hibernation of my desire, and I started to move against him, harder, faster, and he pinched my nipples, forcing another moan from me. I could feel how slick he was from my arousal, and I grew hotter yet, sweat forming on the back of my neck and filling in the space behind my knees. I moved even faster, and put my hand over his chest, steadying myself as my desire and instinct took over.

  The bed shook, and the headboard banged against the wall in a methodical, loud rhythm. He was huge inside of me, deep and ridged, throbbi
ng and pulsating with heat. I wondered what he would taste like, how the hot, head of his cock would feel against my lips and tongue as he exploded into me. The thought of doing such a dirty, illicit thing spurred me ever higher and onward, and his eyes roved my face and their gaze brushed against my skin like a trailing, tender touch as I rode him into me deeper and quicker, our breath mingling.

  He groaned, closing his eyes, reveling in our passion, grabbing me on either side of my hips, urging me along and forcing me to go faster. The headboard banged louder, harder. I thought I was going to explode, and the coil in my loins started to ready itself for a powerful release, tight and deep into my core where he massaged and stretched my tight hole to oblivion. The feel of his taut chest beneath my hand with my nails digging into his shoulder only made the coil tighter. I gasped for breath, and a whisper escaped my lips in a jagged confession.

  “Samuel, I’m coming.” I started to shudder and scream as a powerful, gripping paroxysm tore through every shaking limb of my body, soaking him to his sack as I continued to move against him, lost in the rhythm. I couldn’t catch my breath as I moaned and gasped, shaking on top and all around him, my heart pounding so hard I thought he would hear it. I wanted him to feel and hear and taste every part of me. Sparks exploded behind my closed eyes in brilliant shades, and my fingers curled, scratching at his clenching, rippling muscles. Collapsing onto his chest, panting against his warm, slick skin, I inhaled his tangy, spicy, delectably masculine scent, billowing off him in waves, entwining itself in the curls of my hair. He held me close, and his fingers dug into my messy locks as I rode out the waves of pleasure, twitching and squeezing his dick like I was being electrocuted, the feel of his heart against mine.

  He ran his hands up and down my back in light caresses, drawing more shivers and twitches from me, wringing me like a towel, before his impatience grew and he flipped me over onto my back.