Fallen, page 31
“Archer’s harmless. Or,” Ani amended, “I think.”
“Harmless or no, I saw the look on your face when you finally returned to me.”
“He…I was frightened and then I thought, I shouldn’t be.”
“He wouldn’t be the first man,” Dane said darkly, “to take advantage of a friendship.”
That, unfortunately, was true.
The road before them cut straight through a field. There would be nothing but field after field, each the same as the last, for miles. There was no light, save from that cast by the car’s headlamps and, far above them, the stars. Knowing that anything could happen out here, anything at all, was a little lonely and a little frightening. You could murder a person, and no one would hear their screams.
“I realize,” Dane said, “on one level, that Archer is just being spiteful. He didn’t claim the prize, and I did.”
It felt strange, to Ani, hearing herself referred to as a prize.
“But as some self-styled class warrior, his speeches ring a little hollow. He benefitted from all the same advantages enjoyed by any Asquith-Long. If he’s stooped to unsavory means to earn a living, then he’s done so of his own free will. He had no need to, as he’d apparently have us all believe, claw his way up to the top of the ladder; he was born there.”
“A true class warrior wouldn’t be jealous,” Ani said, “because he wouldn’t care.”
“About money?” Dane glanced at Ani, before returning his focus to the road. “I suppose. But I can’t see him not caring about you.”
Ani didn’t respond.
“Also, like Fred,” Dane said, “I have to admit that I am worried that he’ll wake up from this and find that he’s in a great deal of trouble.”
He could choke on that trouble, as far as Ani was concerned.
“But as my uncle says, take risks. If you win, you will be happy. If you lose, you will be wise.”
“Wisdom is overrated.”
“Perhaps.” And then, “but I like to think I’ve gained a small measure, over the past few weeks, and that it’s benefitted us both. Which…Antoinette, the one thing I didn’t find horrifying at dinner, much to my own surprise, was the idea that you might be with child.”
Ani’s breath caught in her throat.
“I’ve always been firmly against the idea of children. You know this. Out of what I can only describe as a sense of moral duty. I know what I am, and what I’m not and I…. If I’m being perfectly honest, the idea that I might pass on my own flaws terrifies me.
“But then I found myself thinking, earlier, that they might instead be like you.”
“Mrs. Buchannan would be thrilled.”
“But would you be?”
Ani considered the question. She liked children. She’d always known, in the abstract sense at least, that she wanted children. Someday. The specifics, though, she’d never considered. Until recently, she’d never had a reason to. Her future had remained painted in the broadest strokes, a series of fantasies not including any one particular person. Because she hadn’t met him yet; her soul mate. To the extent, though, that she had imagined having children she’d imagined having them with that man. Children, which were the product of a wild and uncaring love. Not of careful decision, with a partner who was at most a friend.
She found herself considering Archer, and how thrilled she would’ve been if he’d showed her such attention a few months ago. How different things might be, right now. But she’d told him the truth, before: he’d found his courage, if indeed that was what he had found, too late.
She…she had toyed, at times, with the idea that Archer might be the one.
He might be. She didn’t know. Part of her still had strong feelings for him, feelings she’d scarcely allowed herself to acknowledge at the time. Feelings she’d thought, that she was sure hadn’t been reciprocated. But she couldn’t marry him. She knew that, now. He was too changeable. Too weak.
And he…. She and Dane were allies in a way that she and Archer never had been, and never could be. Strangely enough, she’d come to understand in retrospect, that had been true even back when she’d hated him.
“Yes,” she said. “I would.”
“Truly?”
“I do want children.” And she did want them with Dane. She thought. “But not yet.”
She’d heard the note of hope in his voice, which was what had made it hard to be truthful. Even so, she had to be. For his sake, as well as her own. Too much was confused; too much was wrong. She wasn’t ready. She thought of pointing out that they weren’t even married, although that could be remedied easily enough and wasn’t the real issue besides. She might go to bed with Dane every night, but she was still working out how she felt about waking up with him.
“I’d thought,” he said, “that we might purchase a house. Together. One that would have your stamp on it, from the beginning.”
“You’re sick of Robin’s decorating?”
“I thought you might be.”
“No. I like the—our house.”
“I want it to be our house.” And then, “purchasing one doesn’t necessitate selling the other, you know. We could have several. Chestnut Street for our place in the city and then maybe one, with more land, a little further out.”
“Which would be more convenient,” Ani admitted, “on nights like these.”
“There are a few properties for sale. Most of which, granted, would require some work. Estates are never quit, because their previous owners have grown too successful for them. We….” He sounded oddly hesitant. “We could tour them, this coming weekend. If you’d like.”
“Yes, I…would.”
“You’re certain?”
“There’s just….” How to explain? “There’s just so much that I don’t feel like I deserve.”
“Darling. You deserve everything.”
“And all this time, while you were pursuing me, I thought you wanted to lock me up in a box.”
“I do want to lock you up in a box. But I also want to give you everything.”
“I don’t need anything.”
“Yes, you do. You need silks and velvets and furs and so many diamonds that you can’t move under the weight of them and…God, Antoinette. I would never, could never blame you for what Archer did but the idea of him, of any man touching you, is more than I can stand. The idea of him hurting you. I want to surround you with precious things and keep you safe from the world.”
“Just love me,” Ani said quietly.
The words were out of her mouth before she’d even fully formed them in her mind.
They surprised her, and they surprised him, too.
He pulled the car over, the tires first crunching on gravel and then silent on grass.
He turned the headlamps off, and the night rushed in.
She turned toward him, feeling anxious and uncertain and a whole host of other emotions she couldn’t name. His eyes held hers, in the dark. Now that her eyes were adjusting, she could just barely see the planes of his face. He reached out, and touched his fingertips to her cheek.
“I want to,” he said.
She held perfectly still as, leaning forward, he pressed his lips to hers. She didn’t respond at first, just experienced the sensation. His touch was firm, and cool, but with barely suppressed fire burning within. She’d felt him like this, slow and cautious out of respect to her newness, and lost completely in the throes of passion. He’d showed her a world, of pleasure and more, that she’d never known existed. That she’d never even begun to imagine.
She opened her mouth, letting him in.
His hand slid up her thigh, over the strap of her garter belt. Everywhere he touched, he left a trail of tingles. And then, before she knew what was happening, he’d unbuckled her seatbelt. Sliding his hand under her, he pulled her onto his lap. The car was a small one, and she just fit.
“Here?” She couldn’t keep the surprise, and hesitance, out of her voice.
“Here.”
“But—”
“I need this. I need you.”
His fingers slid up into her bun as his mouth sought hers again, and her long, straight hair came cascading down as it disintegrated. It formed a curtain around them. He kept one hand on her head as he moved the other lower, to the small of her back. He pressed her further against him, forcing her to straddle the bulge in his trousers. There was barely any room to maneuver; before her was him and behind her was the steering wheel. He had her trapped.
“I don’t….” She pulled back slightly. “Someone might see.” Even though no one would see. She’d been thinking that earlier: that anyone could get away with anything, out here.
“Then let them see.” Dane’s voice had grown hoarse. “That you’re beautiful, and that you’re mine.”
“But—”
“Kiss me.”
The command was rough.
She obeyed it.
His mouth never left hers as he took one of her hands in his and guided it down. She knew what she wanted. Still, she hesitated. This was all so different, so new. That Dane was so clearly in charge was frightening…but it was also thrilling. This was the lover who wanted to tie her up. To birch her, to cane her. To force her to trust him, whether she wanted to or no.
He waited, not moving, as she first unbuckled his belt and then unzipped his trousers.
Then he smiled.
Her dress had voluminous skirts, and they were pushed up almost to her waist. He ran his hand over her flank, letting it rest there. The touch was casually possessive, a little reminder that while he wasn’t forcing her, yet, he also wouldn’t let her escape.
With his free hand, he reached behind her and unzipped a few inches. And then he pushed the top of her dress down, exposing her breasts. He admired them, using his fingertips to trace their curves. Her bruises, which had been almost black, were now mostly memories.
“You’re so wonderful,” he said. “So perfect.”
She felt exposed, like this, on display and barely able to move, but she also felt strangely empowered.
He began idly toying with her nipple.
Which, she realized with a shock, had grown as hard as a rock.
“I think you’re enjoying this,” he said. His tone was languid. “I should have you parade around for me naked more often. Or perhaps tie you up. So I can admire you. Tease you. Remind you that you’re mine and no one else’s. And in the light,” he added, with a trace of humor, “I can see you blush.”
He pinched the small nub of flesh, and she gasped.
“Now,” he said, “put your hands on my shoulders. For balance.”
As she did, he lifted her up. Then he lowered her down, onto him, pushing her knickers aside to give himself access. She gasped again as she felt him fill her, stretch her. She was hot, so hot she felt like she was burning up from the inside out, but his size was still a shock. She paused, captured completely, struggling to accommodate him, as he continued to toy with her nipple.
“Now rock forward, princess. Just like that.”
He thrust upward, using the steering wheel to pull himself forward, and she cried out.
She started to lean forward, and he stopped her. “No. I want to see you.”
And so she rode him, impaled on him, while he feasted on her helplessness.
She felt her orgasm begin to build, deep within, and it was agony not to press for greater contact.
“So hot,” he said. “So near.”
She moaned.
“I want you to touch yourself.”
The words were dark with lust, with dominion.
“And tell me. When you’re coming. Because your pleasure is mine.”
She hesitated. She’d never touched herself in front of another person before. But then he pinched her nipple, again. Much harder this time. The pain spurred her on, as much from the sudden and entirely unexpected rush of pleasure it brought as anything else. Parting herself with one hand, she used the other to toy with that most secret nub. And as she did, her orgasm hit her like a freight train. She’d never experienced anything like this, anything remotely like this, in her entire life. He’d given her pleasure before, pleasure beyond anything she could’ve conceived before but….
She threw back her head. “I’m coming! Oh, God, I’m coming!”
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
Pure
“See.” Lisa lounged in her chair, looking smug. “I told you.”
“Told me what?”
“That you didn’t completely hate him.”
“That was…then.”
Lisa had come over for a visit, and she and Ani were sitting in the studio together watching the snow fall. Ani had had some old, slightly threadbare pieces of furniture brought in that nobody really liked, and made a little sitting area. There was plenty of room for one. Between them were the remains of lunch, as well as a pot of coffee. Coffee, not tea, for once. Thank God.
Leaning forward, Lisa poured herself another cup. “So what changed?”
Ani considered the question. “I’m honestly…I’m honestly not sure.”
“I always liked him.”
“Yes, back when you thought he was some sort of demon.”
“Well isn’t he?”
“He’s…different.”
The night before, they had stopped at a tavern. Eventually. The place’s regular patrons had been a little surprised to see a pair of aristocrats come through the door, but had been friendly enough nonetheless. The tavern keeper, upon seeing Dane’s money, had gone above and beyond. They’d eaten a plain but wonderful dinner in a corner nook near one of the tavern hall’s two fireplaces.
Ani had managed to put her hair up in some semblance of a hairstyle, but she was sure she’d looked awful. Dane, annoyingly, had looked perfect. Seeing his expression, though, as he’d watched her in the flickering candlelight, she’d felt perfect.
By the time they’d gotten home, Chestnut Street was bathed in the grayscale light of false dawn. Dane had led her upstairs, and helped her out of her dress, and then they’d collapsed into a heap together on the bed. Ani, almost immediately, had been pulled down into a sleep so deep it was almost enchanted.
She’d woken up to the discovery that Dane had long ago left for work and Lisa was downstairs. Asking Mrs. Buchannan to let Lisa know that she’d be right down, she’d crawled out of bed and into the tub. Lisa, she knew, wouldn’t mind Mrs. Buchannan’s stories for a few more minutes.
And now, here they were.
Like this was the most normal thing in the world.
Which, Ani supposed, it was. Now. A life that would’ve been unrecognizable to her, only a short time ago. But she didn’t, more and more, relate to the girl she’d been. That girl was like an old friend, whose company she’d outgrown. The love was still there, but tinged with a slightly bitter nostalgia.
Outside, an errant gust of wind blew snow in whirling eddies down the alley. Ani stretched, and winced. A little self-care had helped her to feel human again, but she was still sore. She felt, in point of fact, like she had been caned. As opposed to only talked with Dane about various punishments, and their various pleasures. He’d promised to explore some of them with her later on and she was nervous but also…excited. More, even, than she wanted to admit.
“So is he incredible in bed?” It was like Lisa had read her thoughts.
And she sounded entirely too interested.
Ani flushed with embarrassment.
“I knew it!” Lisa laughed, delightedly. “So how much of a deviant is he?”
“Lisa!”
“I’ve heard stories.”
Ani was sure she had. “You and the rest of the city.”
“But I mean—you do like it, right?”
Ani was sure that, by now, she was the color of an eggplant.
“Sadly, now that he’s off the market, I’ll never get to discover the truth for myself. Although I don’t mind telling you that according to at least a few girls, he was the most incredible lover they’d ever had. He had rules, though, about how much outside the bedroom contact he’d allow.”
“I know.”
“Because he was saving himself for you.” Lisa sighed. “How romantic.”
“Sleeping with other women?”
“Ani, you can be such an ass.”
“What?” Ani threw her hands up. “What did I do?”
“You’re engaged to the most eligible bachelor in the world and you’re still not happy.”
“I am. I am! I’m just…getting used to things.”
“I know, I know. And this—whatever it is with Archer can’t be helping.”
“I’m worried about him.”
“Don’t be.”
“He’s…not himself.”
“Maybe he is.” Lisa’s expression had turned thoughtful. “Maybe he’s been fooling us, this whole time. Pretending to be someone he wasn’t. And now….”
She left the thought unfinished, but Ani understood.
“Anyway, how’s Jasper?”
“About,” Ani said, “to be engaged.” Or at least so she thought. He certainly wasn’t single. Genie was living with him at Sutton Hall, and had assumed many of the duties of a wife. And yes, that was a truth Lisa could’ve discovered anywhere. But Ani, nonetheless, felt obscurely guilty for revealing it. Dane had told her, the night before, that his uncle and Genie were probably waiting on some sort of formal announcement of their own until after his and Ani’s wedding.
“Well that,” Lisa said with feeling, “just stinks.”
“I’m sorry.”
“How long have you known?”
“Not long.”
“So at least you haven’t been holding out on me.”
“No, not really.”
“Wait. Is it—is it another man?”
“No.”
“Oh.”
Daniel appeared, helped himself to a scone, and sat down next to Ani. “Why does everyone think Jasper’s queer?”
“It’s the hats.”
“Huh? All men wear hats.”
“What Lisa means is that he takes a certain…care in his appearance.”
