Exeter poured himself another whiskey. “A shot of this might help us both get some sleep tonight.”
“Pour me a glass, then.” Mia set down her teacup. “You must be exhausted—that was quite the battle of wizard wills, Doctor Exeter.”
“Don’t give too much credence to Prospero’s assertions—I am just a practitioner of the manipulation of powerful elements. The superstitious call them dark arts and attach names like sorcerer or wizard to those who apply them.” Exeter finished the last of his whiskey. “The quote from Shakespeare was apt—most of it is theater.”
Mia shot him a wary glance. “Those cuts and bruises are no such illusion. You’re just being modest—or evasive.” Swallowing half a dram, she hiccupped.
“Come—let’s find you a place to sleep.” Exeter reached for her hand and intertwined fingers. As they neared his bedchamber, he turned to her. “You can’t sleep in your room—you’ll catch a chill—then a cold.” He opened his bedroom door. “Sleep in here tonight.”
A good amount of heat radiated from the hearth, and his bed had been turned down. She untied her dressing gown and slipped under the covers. He caught a glimpse of long limbs as she tucked herself between the sheets. The moment her head touched the pillow there was a sensuous exhale. Exeter removed his waistcoat and shirt.
She cracked an eye open. “Where will you sleep?”
“Here, beside you.” He sat down on the edge of the bed, bare-chested. “Here, Mia—beside you. Do you mind?”
She lifted the covers. “Come to bed and let me show you how much I have missed you, for I am more than ready.” She stretched like a sleepy cat and curled up in his arms.
“Wet, are we?” His voice was soft and deep.
“Sopping.” She rubbed his ruff of stubble with the palm of her hand. “How long until dawn?”
He inched the covers below her breasts and nibbled. “A few hours.”
She moaned as he tongued a nipple. “Then we must make the most of this night together.”
Exeter gently pulled the sheet past her belly, and let his hand travel farther, sliding down into her labia. He massaged gently, the kind of circling only he knew how to administer. He understood her subtle signals, what kind of rubbing she wanted, the rhythms and pressure to apply to the secret places that made her shudder and moan.
“I wish to reach my paroxysm with you inside me. Can we try?” Mia pushed the covers off and opened her legs wide—enough for him to view her pink folds of glistening flesh. Thoroughly aroused, Exeter dipped between her legs and gently licked as she squirmed with pleasure. Climbing over her, he held her arms at her sides while his tongue delved inside—in and out, laving broad strokes. He tickled her clitoris with his tongue and felt her shudder in response, as her sex grew swollen and her vagina flooded in readiness. Hovering above her for just a moment, he enjoyed the look of pure desire in her gaze. Firmly, he pushed inside the wet, warm sex of her, slippery with excitement.
“Slowly.” She whispered.
This was only her third time. “Is it painful? I can stop if you wish.” His voice was husky with desire.
“Don’t stop. I want you to love me so that I will remember it for days and days,” she ordered softly. She wrapped her legs up around his body and moaned; her breathing became harsh and rapid. With firm, deliberate strokes, he concentrated on her pleasure while building his own fervor a little at a time.
Exeter pushed his knees between her legs and without missing a single thrust, his hands reached under the small of her back and lifted her upright onto the tops of his thighs. Leaning back on his haunches, he impaled her on his penis and showed her how to rock her hips. He took a mouthful of breast and let their pleasure build to the next level.
“Good God, Mia.” He kept it slow, and with each withdrawal, he pulled out enough to rub her swollen nub with the tip of his cock. He pressed his fingers into the flesh of her buttocks and brought himself deeper inside. His thrusts became rapid and violent as her trembling grew stronger until she responded with her blissful cry and shudder of release. “Oh . . . Asa.” All she had to do was whisper his birth name, and his seed exploded into the depths of her body.
Exeter did not speak as he gasped for breath and chastised himself. He had become so highly aroused that he had not curtailed his behavior. He held her, clung to her, for he feared he had hurt her. She was not ready, yet, for such rough sex. Finally he managed an apology. “I’m so sorry. Are you well enough, Mia?”
“You must not treat me as though I am a piece of Royal Doulton china—brittle and easily broken,” she chided.
He swept a few locks of hair over her shoulders and held her face in the palms of his hands. “No, you are brave and strong, and might I say so very delicious?”
“I came to pleasure with you inside me.” Her chest rose and fell in soft slow intervals. Her nipples were relaxed, opalescent rose in color, and her skin glistened with the sheen of lumière de l’amour. He sometimes felt like he could drown himself in her body. He lifted a finger to the tip of her breast and watched it ruche in response to his circling.
There had been a kind of savage intimacy to their mating that felt as if their very souls had participated in a deep and profound intercourse. As it was, this night was to last in both their memories for a very long time, perhaps forever.
Pier 10, Southampton
MIA SWAYED as the hansom made a sharp turn onto the quay. Finally. She was to be away from England—and Exeter. She’d left London by train yesterday, accompanied by Mr. Tandi and a mountain of luggage. Their train had arrived in Southampton in time for a late supper. She hadn’t slept particularly well; in fact, she’d tossed and turned most of the night. Troubling dreams had plagued her—Exeter chasing her through misty passageways. A hint of warm breath on her neck as she hid in the dark. Fear shuddered through her body as she turned to find Prospero standing behind her wearing that enigmatic half smile.
Twice she had been jolted awake, gasping for air, icy cold and trembling.
Shortly after breakfast, Mr. Tandi had informed her of a delay in departure. She’d spent most of the day pacing in her room. Finally, by late afternoon, word came the SS Teutonic was ready to board guests.
She’d left a rather hasty note for Exeter, who had attended a lecture at the Royal Society of Medicine and was expected to dine out with a colleague. It was better this way. No awkward good-byes, and no tears. Mia dipped her head for a better look at the sleek ocean liner. The cross-Atlantic voyage would take four days. They would arrive in New York, where she would have a brief visit, and then it was on to Boston, to start her new life.
She and Exeter had worked out an arrangement of sorts. He would visit during winter break and she would return home in summer. He assured her that medical school was an all-consuming experience and time would pass quickly.
The hansom stopped behind a long line of cabs and carriages, passengers alighting from all of them. The pier was a scene of mass confusion—a veritable uproar of passengers and baggage handlers all attempting to board ship at once. Stepping down from the cab, she paid the driver and began her search for Mr. Tandi, who had left the hotel well ahead of departure time with their luggage. Mia craned her neck looking for a tall, African man dressed in white. She wandered through a maze of trunks and suitcases being checked with porters.
There, just ahead—a tall man dressed in . . . Mia skirted a baggage trolley for a more advantageous view. The gentleman wore a top hat and traveling coat, certainly not Mr. Tandi. But there was something familiar about . . . he turned abruptly, and Mia gasped.
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