all out, biting at his tongue just enough to sting.
As if the move goaded him into action, he growled deep in his throat, one hand fisting in her hair as he arched her back, his other hand grabbing a handful of her arse and hauling her closer. Rosalind’s knees drove into the hard leather seats, her skirts bunching between them as he settled her firmly in his lap. Too many damned skirts. She caught a fistful of them and wrenched them out of the way, and then she could feel the hard steel of his erection between them, separated from her own flesh by his trousers and the barest silk slither of her drawers.
Lynch swept her bustle out of the way, and then his hand drove low between the back of her legs, fingers sliding over the delicate puckered rosebud of her bottom and deeper still, where the silk pressed wetly against her flesh. Rosalind’s head spun, a gasp tearing from her bruised lips.
“Oh God,” she whispered, grinding against him. Suddenly she couldn’t hold herself back anymore. She needed to feel him against her, feel his cool-as-silk skin, taste it on her tongue. Shaking fingers found the buttons on his black waistcoat and then Rosalind was tugging, frantic in her haste, buttons tearing free from the lush velvet—hot and shivery and so close to coming apart that she couldn’t breathe.
The fingers between her thighs slid mercilessly between the thin slit of her drawers. Against her wet flesh. She groaned, grabbed a handful of his waistcoat and tore it open.
“Easy, my love, easy…”
Rosalind kissed the smile from his lips. She didn’t want easy. She wanted now. Somehow she had his shirt open and then she was dragging her mouth down his throat, her teeth rasping against the flat disk of his nipple. Lynch’s hand fisted in her hair, and he sucked in a sharp gasp. He couldn’t quite reach her now, his other hand clenching in the mound of her arse. She needed the respite. She wanted him to be with her this time, and if he kept it up, she’d have come in seconds.
Her hand slid down between them, grasping the straining length of his cock through the tight material of his trousers. Kissing her way down, Rosalind started tugging at his laces, her lips brushing through the line of hair that arrowed south from his navel…
“Enough,” Lynch rasped, grabbing her hips and swinging her around so that she straddled him backwards.
Shoving through the layers of skirts, he found her wet and wanting. One hard jerk and her drawers were gone. Then he fumbled between them and suddenly she could feel the silky-soft brush of his erection. Grabbing her by the hips he eased her back, sheathing himself inside her with one firm thrust.
Rosalind threw her head back, biting her lower lip until it hurt. Her bottom nestled against his lap, his breath harsh and cool against the back of her neck. Firm hands caught her hips, eased her into a rocking motion. Then they were sliding up, cupping her breasts from behind, thrusting them high.
“Faster,” she whispered, her thighs burning as she rode him. Strands of her coppery hair tumbled down around her face as her head fell forward, her lip held fast between her teeth.
Lynch’s fingers found her and she cried out, her body slowing on his, unable to move, her thighs quivering as she hovered there. It was too much. She grabbed at his knees, holding on, his hips moving beneath her… slowly…torturously… As if he wanted to feel every last second of this.
The world went white. Rosalind jerked, her body clutching at his greedily as pleasure washed over her.
She couldn’t hold her balance anymore. All she wanted was to wilt over him like a flower, bonelessly, blissed out on pleasure. He wouldn’t let her. One hand thrust out, shoving aside the small curtain, and then she could feel cold glass beneath her touch, fingers spread and grasping for something—anything—to hold on to.
“I missed you,” he whispered in her ear. “I was so angry at you, yet the thought of not having you… It did something to me. Tore something deep inside.”
His words set off another cascade of pleasure within her—this time of the soul.
“I missed you,” Rosalind admitted. “But I couldn’t stand it anymore. I needed you to know the truth.”
“Aye.” He kissed her shoulder, slowly grinding against her again. “I’m glad you told me.” She felt his lips twitch against her skin. “Though the timing could have been better.”
Another slow grind. Rosalind shifted, rolling her hips. Pushing away from the window, she arched her back and lay back against his shoulder, sliding a hand up his throat. Clenching her inner muscles, she heard him curse softly, under his breath.
“You like that?” she whispered.
“Minx.” But his hands were quivering on her hips and he urged her faster. Each squeeze drew a sharp intake of breath from him. “You drive me insane.” He groaned and pressed his lips to her shoulder. Teeth sank into the soft muscle there as he thrust hard against her. Hoarsely, “Want you so much, so damned much…”
He pressed her against him, one hand on her abdomen as he gasped. Rosalind squeezed hard, feeling his body shake around her as he climaxed. She loved this feeling, the power she had over him, the way the world seemed as though it belonged to just the two of them.
Lynch collapsed back against the seat with a groan, dragging her with him. Long minutes ticked by as she lay back in his arms. She didn’t want this to ever end.
“I never thought I’d miss the mask,” he murmured, kissing a blazing trail across her trapezius. “But I like this too. Having you so vulnerable beneath me—atop me. Knowing that it’s you. That it was always you.” His teeth sank into her skin and she gasped.
A little uncomfortable now. “It wasn’t always me. Not… Not the true me.”
“You don’t think I see her?” he whispered, nuzzling her throat. “The true Rosalind? Cerise?”
Rosalind pushed away from him, turning in his lap to face him. “I’m not Cerise.”
“She’s as much a part of you as Mrs. Marberry was. Or Mercury. I can see pieces of them all in you. You shouldn’t be ashamed.” His hand came up, cupped her face, his thumb stroking over her mouth. Those glorious gray eyes dropped too. As if he were thinking of tasting it again. “All of those pieces are you, Rosa. They made you what you are. Even Cerise…the girl who hurt…the girl who didn’t want to exist anymore… You wouldn’t be you, who you are, without her.”
Tears stung her eyes that he should see it so clearly. She swallowed hard, wanting to kiss him again. But that was the coward’s way out. A way to hide herself, to express herself without speech. “I wanted to destroy her,” she whispered. “Because she didn’t deserve to live after what she’d done. I wanted to be Rosalind. A new start. Away from all of the guilt. All of the hurt. If I finished what Nate started… It was a way to make things right, to find…forgiveness…”
That cool hand cupped her face, made her feel safe. So safe. Rosalind tilted her cheek into the touch, like a cat. Nothing had ever felt better than this, than being in his arms. A wet tear slid down her cheek.
“He forgave you,” Lynch said gently.
“You don’t know that.”
“I do.” He insisted. “That is what it means to love another.”
The words stole her breath. With them came hope. Then his arms crushed her against him, holding her so tightly it were as if some part of him were afraid she’d be torn from his grasp.
The words bubbled up in her throat, tickled against the roof of her mouth. Clutching at his ruined shirt, she pressed her face against the bare skin of his throat. But she couldn’t say it, as if a part of her still felt unworthy. Pushing against his chest, she looked up. “I lied to you.”
“With your lips, yes.” His eyelids lowered, almost hiding those luminous eyes, but his hand kept on stroking her cheek. “I should have paid more attention to my instincts, to what my dark half was telling me.” His thumb paused in the middle of her lip and he looked up, capturing her gaze. “It knew who you were no matter what guise you wore. It claimed you long before I did.” He took a deep, shuddering breath. “And did you ever lie to me… here?” Tentative fingertips pressed between her breasts, directly over the thumping beat of her heart.
Rosalind shook her head, swallowing hard. “You know I didn’t,” she whispered, cupping his hand and holding it firmly against her chest. She could feel the heady pulse of her heartbeat through his touch. “It belonged to you long before I knew it.” Another heady swallow. She had to say it. He deserved it and she wanted him to know. “I love you.”
“I know.” He said the one thing she needed to hear the most. This time he believed her. Slowly his lips curled up, and she thought she might die for the joy the sight elicited in her. His smile—so rare—was a thing of wonders. “I knew the instant you walked through the doors of the atrium.” The smile began to fade.
Rosalind quickly pressed her fingertips to it, as if to capture it. “Don’t think about it.”
