Lord Savage (15 page)

He’d called me greedy last night, and I couldn’t deny it. I was greedy for sex, yes,
but mostly I was greedy for him.

But before I could think of coaxing him into any further acts in the Game, I’d something
far more urgent to tend to. I eased myself from the bed, trying not to wake Savage.
There was a light wool throw folded on the chest at the foot of the bed, and I wrapped
myself in it as a makeshift dressing gown while I went to find the water closet.

I opened and closed the bedroom door as quietly as I could, my bare feet making no
sound on the polished wood floor of the hallway. I hoped I wouldn’t meet Barry, for
talking with him would be sure to wake Savage. The first door I tried led to a storage
closet, but the second one opened to a very grand bathroom indeed, with diamond-patterned
windows, tall mirrors, gray marble walls and floors, and an oversize marble tub in
the center of the room.

All in all, it was at least double the size of the bathroom given to me, perhaps even
larger. I didn’t object. The size and the quantity of marble made this bath a chilly,
echoing place.

Swiftly I tended to my business. As I washed my hands and then my face, I couldn’t
help studying my reflection in the mirror over the sink. Of course my hair was a shambles
and I’d no rice powder or rouge left on my face, but I hadn’t expected to see how
my lips were still swollen and red from his kisses, or the way my eyes were heavy-lidded
with sleep and wantonness.

Did fucking always leave its mark like this? I’d never seen such a face stare back
at me in the mirror, and it was so different from my usual demeanor that it was unsettling.
If I were strolling down Fifth Avenue and met Mrs. Astor or Mrs. Vanderbilt, would
they be able to tell what I’d been doing?

I grimaced, wrinkling my nose, and tried to pull the tangles from my hair. Innocent
or not, Savage would have to part with me long enough to let Simpson brush and dress
my hair, or else—

From behind the bedroom door came the sound of shattering glass, of a crystal tumbler
being hurled against a wall.

“Eve!
Eve!
” Savage shouted. “Where the devil is she? Barry, you dog, so help me if you let her
leave!”

So much for not waking him,
I thought, and quickly opened the bathroom door, meaning to go to the bedroom to
reassure him.

But Savage was already there, pushing his way into the doorway as soon as I opened
it.

“My god, Eve,” he said, grabbing me by the shoulders. “What are you doing in here?”

I jerked free, backing away and clutching the throw around me as if it were armor.
“What do you think I was doing?”

“I told you specifically to stay with me,” he said, biting off each word. “I told
you not to leave.”

“And I didn’t,” I said defensively, mystified by his outburst. “You told me not to
wander about the house, and I haven’t. I didn’t think I needed your permission to
come here to—to wash my face.”

He raked his fingers back through his hair, clearly struggling to control his temper.
His expression was dark as storm clouds, his bare chest heaving with the force of
it. Yet, anger wasn’t the only emotion on his face. To my surprise, I was sure I saw
something very much like fear there in his eyes as well. What could a man like this—powerful,
rich, titled—possibly be frightened of?

“I didn’t wish to wake you, that was all,” I said, calming my voice to help soothe
him. I’d had experience with intemperate men: my father had flown into rages for seemingly
no reason, and I’d learned that quiet explanations worked better than raging in return.

“You said you hadn’t slept last night,” I continued. “I didn’t want to disturb you.”

He tied the sash on his robe with quick, purposeful movements. “You left me, Eve.”

“I left the bedroom, not you,” I said, “and I was coming back directly.”

He kept calling me Eve, clinging to the Game. Perhaps that was the key. I longed to
reach out and put my arms around him in comfort, but didn’t. Despite the physical
intimacy of what we’d shared, I sensed he’d still rebuff me, and so I kept to words
instead.

“Wasn’t I here at the door when you opened it, Master?” I continued, striving to sound
reassuring. “When you opened it, didn’t you find me on the other side, waiting for
you?”

It was working. The anger had faded from his face, and what was there now was only
a usual male fear of looking foolish before me.

“Barry!” he called sharply. The servant appeared instantly behind him, where he’d
likely been lurking all along. “Barry, the lady wishes to bathe. Draw her bath at
once.”

“Very well, my lord.” Barry eased his way past me and Savage, and opened the taps
on the tub. The water rushed out, splashing noisily against the marble.

“If you please, Master,” I said, raising my voice to be heard over the water. “I’d
prefer to go to my own room to wash, where I have my own things. I promise I won’t
be gone long, and—”

“Barry, send for Mrs. Hart’s maid,” he said. “Tell her to bring whatever her mistress
needs for bathing.”

He ignored me, instead striding to the tub and thrusting his hand into the water as
Barry left us alone.

“Perfect,” he said, and at last he smiled. “I believe I’ll join you, Eve.”

My eyes widened. “You will, Master?”

“I will,” he said with relish. “This tub is quite large enough for two.”

I was surprised by how quickly his mood had turned around. I didn’t object, of course,
for Savage like this was much better company than a furious Savage.

Perhaps his bad temper had been only because he’d awakened abruptly, combined with
an aristocratic expectation to have things his way. I could understand that, for most
of New York society suffered from the same conviction. Perhaps I’d exaggerated his
behavior in my mind because I hadn’t expected him to act like that.

And perhaps I was simply thinking too much.

I looked from him to the tub, imagining us inside it together. It was tempting, very
tempting. There was plenty of room, both for bathing and for whatever else he might
have planned.

Still I hung back, keeping myself cocooned in the woolen throw. I’d always regarded
my baths as a place of solitude, to relax and to daydream, and I was quite certain
that wasn’t what he had in mind.

“Come, Eve,” he said, leaning against the side of the tub. Steam rose from the warm
water around him, giving him an air of mystery that he didn’t need. “You’ve no reason
to be shy with me. Not now.”

“I’m not shy,” I said promptly. “That is, I’m not shy, Master.”

He grinned, suddenly boyish again. “I didn’t think you were, Eve, even for an Innocent.
But something is holding you back, yes?”

I said the first thing that entered my head: “I don’t wish to drown, Master.”

He chuckled, and closed the distance between us. I was glad; we’d been apart long
enough, and watching the dark silk robe glide over his obviously bare skin made the
heat gather inside me.

He settled one arm around my waist, pulling me closer. He kissed me, slowly and deeply,
the way I liked it, and deftly eased his hand inside my throw to cup my breast. His
thumb rubbed over my nipple, making it instantly harden, and I couldn’t keep back
the small whimper of delight that vibrated between our mouths.

“You’re not thinking about drowning now, Eve, are you?” He pushed the throw farther
down over my arms to bare both my breasts.

“No, Master,” I said, arching my back so that my breast pushed into his palm. “Though
I do wonder if the tub will overflow.”

“It’s a very large tub,” he said, tugging the throw from around my arms. “It would
take less time to fill the North Sea than that tub.”

I shimmied my hips to make the throw fall to the floor. He grunted with approval,
sliding his palms along the curve of my waist to my hips.

“You’re far too bewitching to be an Innocent, Eve,” he said, more of a growl. “I’m
supposed to be the one educating you, yet you’re making me forget everything I know.”

“Whatever I know, I’ve learned from you, Master,” I murmured, my breathing quickening.
He eased his fingers across my notch, and I widened my stance to give him more, resting
my hands against his chest for support.

“That’s a pretty compliment from an Innocent,” he said. “You do know how to play the
Game. My god, how wet you are already.”

“You
inspire
me, Master,” I whispered breathlessly. He’d never comprehend how much of this wasn’t
a game for me, but an amazing awakening. “I cannot help myself.”

“I wouldn’t want you to.” His kiss now was less leisurely and more ravenous, like
a man who was done waiting. I understood, for I felt the same way myself.

Daring, I blindly hooked one finger into the looped knot on his sash so that the robe
fell open. His cock seemed to spring into my hand, thick and hard for me already.
The skin was velvety soft and heated in my hand, and as I slid my fingers along its
length, he sucked in his breath.

I pulled my hand away as if it had been burned.

“I’m sorry,” I said, flustered. “I didn’t intend to cause you—”

“You did nothing wrong, Eve,” he said, breathing hard, “and everything right. Too
right. You have that effect me.”

I smiled, relieved and pleased. “Then may I please touch you again, Master?”

“No, you may not,” he said. “Not until we’re in the tub.”

Before I realized it, he’d scooped me into his arms and carried me the last few steps
to the tub, setting me down into the water. He’d been right: the tub did seem nearly
as large as a small sea, curved at both ends with the taps flowing in the middle.
I sank back against the curved marble side, luxuriating in the warmth of the water
as I watched him toss aside his robe.

I thought I could watch him by the hour and never see enough. The steam had given
his skin a slight sheen, burnishing it, and accentuating the flat planes of his abdomen
and the lean, bunched muscles of his shoulders and biceps. His cock stood proud and
thick, ready for me, and I smiled with anticipation.

He climbed into the tub, sending little waves rippling toward me as he sank into the
water, his knees rising up like islands. He held his hand out to me, and I pushed
through the water to join him.

I slipped between his bent knees and leaned forward to kiss him, my hair trailing
behind me in the water like a mermaid’s tresses.

He smiled at me, full of temptation.

“I expect more than a kiss, Eve,” he said. “Climb on my cock, and give me what we
both want.”

“In the water, Master?” I asked, laughing. “Can that be done?”

“With ease,” he said, dragging me forward. “Here, settle yourself over me, and you’ll
see.”

With considerable splashing, I climbed over him as he’d suggested, and balanced on
my knees over his cock. I spread the lips of my quim open with one hand and carefully
seated the blunt head of his cock into my opening. As eager as I was, it felt awkward
and somehow upside down.

“Don’t stop now,” he said, his jaw clenched. “Slide down to the end.”

I nodded resolutely. With my hands braced on his shoulders for balance, I sank as
he’d told me to do. With my thighs held apart, I felt him sink deep into my quim,
stretching me with delicious friction.

I gasped, and he smiled. “You like that, don’t you?”

“I do, Master,” I said, tentatively lifting myself up and then sliding back down.
“I like it very much. I’d venture you do, too.”

“I do,” he said, putting his hands around my hips. “But I’ll like this more, and so
shall you.”

He raised me nearly completely off his cock, then pulled me back down, driving himself
as far as he could inside me with a great splash of water.

I gasped again, and dug my fingers into his shoulders as I ground against him. He
seemed even larger, even hotter this way, filling every fraction of my channel. It
was just short of being too much, but with him I’d happily dance this fine line between
the perfect amount and a surfeit of pleasure.

“I—I believe you’ve filled me as far as you can, Master,” I said, tipping my head
back as he rocked into me again. I pressed one of my hands low on my belly, beneath
the water. “I’m sure I can feel your cock here, you’re so deep.”

“Do you know what it does to me,” he said with a groan, “hearing you say that?”

“No, Master,” I said, my grin lopsided. “Tell me, please.”

“It makes me want to fuck you even more,” he said with a growl, driving into me again,
“until you truly can feel my cock in every inch of your body.”

I arched my back to take him in even deeper, my breasts bobbing on the surface of
the water and my wet hair slapping against my back with each jolting stroke. Being
surrounded by the lapping warm water, with each motion amplified and returned by the
waves against the sides of the tub, served only to make it better.

“Say it again, Eve,” he ordered, his eyes reflecting the water. “Tell me what I’m
doing to you. There are few things better than a lady who’ll tell me how much she
likes my fucking.”

Now that the first shock of it had faded, I liked hearing him speak so frankly, too,
using forbidden, earthy words. To speak them myself was undeniably exciting, and made
me feel all the more wicked.

“I—I like how you fuck me, Master,” I said breathlessly, his thrusting setting the
pace for my words. “I like how you fuck me with your—your big cock, and I—
oh
!”

As I’d spoken, he’d leaned forward to take one of my nipples into his mouth. He was
suckling hard, rolling his tongue around my nipple and then grazing the tip with the
edge of his teeth. The intensity stunned me, streaking directly to my core and making
me tighten around his cock.

“Tell me what I’ve done to you,” he said. “Tell me what I’m going to do again, and
where you feel it.”

I closed my eyes to concentrate on what he’d asked me to do.

“Look at me, Eve,” he ordered roughly. “Don’t hide. Tell me what I’m doing, what it
makes you feel.”