His fingers were quick and sure as they moved down my back. As soon as he finished, I turned, not wanting to risk him seeing my tattoo. Just because I refused to worry about all of the other shit going on, didn't mean I'd disregard my safety. The last thing I needed was another slip up.
“Too many damn layers,” I muttered as I struggled to get out of the dress and everything else that was under it.
Gracen chuckled, but as the dress finally fell to the floor, the laughter faded, and by the time I looked up at him, his expression was serious again.
“You are a beautiful woman, Honor Daviot.”
His gaze ran the whole length of me, one long look that moved over me like a caress. As if my skin wasn't hot enough already.
“So beautiful.”
He stepped toward me, the expression on his face not hesitant exactly, but definitely like he was giving me the chance to stop him.
Which wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.
His eyes met mine a moment before his hand cupped my breast, and then I was stepping into him. I wrapped my arms around his neck as we fell back onto the bed. My hands moved across his back, gently scratching at him as his lips made their way down my neck, then to my collarbone and lower still. His thumb ran across my nipple, and it hardened under his touch. I arched my back as he kissed his way between my breasts, then moving his tongue across the flesh before taking a nipple into his mouth.
It'd been so long since I'd had any hands on me other than my own, and even then, it'd been so rare that I could already feel the tension coiling inside me. It wouldn’t take much for me to get off.
“Gracen,” I moaned, and almost as if he could read my mind, his hand moved down between my thighs.
His fingers caressed me, brushed over the dark curls there before slipping one finger between my folds.
“You're wet.”
He sounded surprised, and I wondered if the women he'd slept with before hadn't been. If not, it certainly hadn't been due to his lack of skill. His mouth and hands certainly knew what they were doing. I gasped as he slipped a finger inside me, and I opened my legs, allowed him to settle between them.
As he worked a second finger inside me, the world around me dissipated, leaving nothing but the two of us. It was as if we were in a void, an impenetrable bubble where the two of us couldn't be disturbed. He twisted his fingers, and my entire body exploded, rocked by an intense orgasm. I bit down onto his shoulder to muffle my screams, and his body jerked against mine. I heard him mutter an oath and wondered if I'd gone too far. Maybe he wasn't used to a woman enjoying herself.
He pushed himself up on his elbow, his fingers still inside me. He looked puzzled, but not upset. “I didn't hurt you, did I?”
I shook my head. “No, but you’re going to kill me.”
I groaned in delight as his thumb brushed my clit, my hips now rocking against his hand as his lips traced circles on my neck.
“Is that...pleasurable?” he asked as his thumb touched me again.
I shuddered, hips jerking. “Yes. Oh, fu–yes.” I barely managed to catch myself. I wasn't sure if fuck was commonly used in this time period, but if it was, I was pretty sure it wasn't something ladies said.
“I'll remember that,” he murmured.
It wasn't until I felt the heat of his skin against the insides of my thighs that I realized he'd pushed off his pants at some point. My entire body was pulsing, throbbing, desperate to be filled. I hadn't had anything inside me in too many months to count, and I needed him.
I slid my hand down between us, feeling his stomach muscles jump under my fingers. He drew in a sharp breath when I wrapped my hand around the thick, solid shaft of flesh between us.
“You bewilder me, Honor,” he said, his voice low and rough.
I grabbed him by the back of the neck and pulled him closer, my lips locking onto his for one brilliant, hot moment before breaking away. “Is that a good thing?” I asked.
He nodded, lust shining clearly in his eyes. “Very.”
I pushed my hips up against him, my hand guiding him to my entrance. As the tip of him pushed against me, I had a second of clarity that told me this was the turning point, the moment that would forever change me. And then his hand was there. He adjusted himself, his eyes never leaving mine, and with one quick push, slid inside me.
A moan escaped my lips before I could stop it, and I grabbed onto his shoulders tight as he pushed in deeper. My body stretched around him, near painful pleasure that I'd never experienced before. Bruce wasn't small, but Gracen was different, as if his body had been made specifically to fit mine.
He rocked against me, his movements slow, tentative at first, as if feeling his way inside me before moving with more confident strokes. I knew he didn't want to hurt me, and that made me care about him even more. Then the base of him pressed against my clit and the world exploded around me, my mind bursting with ecstasy. I wrapped my legs around him, my nails digging deep into his skin, my hips grinding against his thrusts. He truly was going to kill me, and in the midst of it all, I could feel one orgasm after the other burst through me until I wasn't sure if I was coming multiple times or just one long, unending climax that I was sure would end me.
In the heat of the moment, with my eyes closed and the touch of his lips against mine as we moaned against each other, I could only think of one thing: how much I wanted this to last forever. I could feel the heat of my body against his, his breath against my lips as he moved, his chest pressed against my breasts as our heartbeats raced each other. Emotions rattled my mind, and my moans quickly turned into soft screams that matched his groans of pleasure.
And then Gracen froze, his muscles flexing and his body stiffening. He pushed in deeper with his last thrust, and as he came, I pushed my hips up, reaching for that last little bit of friction. As I felt him fill every inch inside me, I came with him.
After a long moment, he rolled off of me, and his arms went around my shoulders. He pulled me close and brushed his lips against the top of my head. I made sure I pulled the sheet up high enough to cover my tattoo and then allowed myself to relax against him. For the first time since I'd woken up here, all the chaos and tension that'd been keeping me awake was gone, and I let the darkness take me.
As long as I was in Gracen's arms, I was safe.
Chapter Twenty-One
“I don’t trust him.”
My father was frowning, his eyes narrowed. He was angry, and I tried to remember that he was just trying to protect me. It didn't make it any easier to have my father so opposed to my engagement. I wasn't sure why he hadn't seen this coming. Bruce and I had been exclusive for three years, and I'd just finished boot camp. Of course I wanted to be engaged before I reported to Fort Hood.
“You never liked him to start with,” I said.
“And I’ve been clear about why,” my father replied. “I know guys like him. I’ve seen what they do, and who they are. He’s not right for you.”
I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose. “How about giving him a chance in the first place?”
“You think I don’t know the difference between a man who deserves a chance and a man who doesn’t?”
“You don't know him like I do.” I gave the same protest that I'd been giving since I'd told my parents that Bruce and I were serious.
“I know his type, and I won’t sit around here and watch you throw your life away for him.”
“He's my fiancé, and I'm an adult.” I didn't feel much like an adult at the moment, but I needed to remind my father that I wasn't a child anymore.
“I will not give my little girl to someone who doesn’t deserve her!”
It was only then that I saw the tears in my father's eyes. My father who so rarely cried. It was that more than anything else that got through to me.
“You don’t get it, Honor.” His voice calmed, quieted. “There will be moments in your life when you will jump into things based on pure emotion, and when that happens, when the moment is gone and done
with, you’ll be left with nothing but regret and guilt. I just want to spare you that.”
I opened my mouth, wanting to say that I wouldn't regret my decision to marry Bruce, that I knew exactly what I was doing, but the reality was, I couldn’t know for sure if I had made the right decision. All I had to go on was an emotional connection to the only boy I ever loved. That had to be enough.
My father was wrong. He'd see it eventually.
I wouldn't let myself think anything else.
“What have we done?”
The moving bed had woken me, but it was Gracen's anxious question that concerned me more. I sat up in bed, wrapping the sheet around my body, the gesture in equal parts to make sure my tattoo was hidden and because I suddenly felt a lot less confident about being naked in front of him. He was half-dressed, pacing about the room like a mad man.
“What are you talking about?” I asked, still dazed with sleep and a little annoyed at the manner by which I had been forced awake. Images of last night flashed through my mind, and Gracen's nervous manner was quickly dampening the sweetness of the memory.
“This!” He gestured to the two of us. “Us. What we did last night. All of this!”
I clenched the sheets tighter to me, instantly self-conscious. I wondered if this was how drunk people felt when they woke up the next day and found a stranger in their bed. I knew we had a lot to work out, but I never expected to wake up to him freaking out. I forgot about how good last night had felt, my thoughts shifting to more urgent matters, like finding my clothes and escaping. I searched the floor, calculating how fast it would take me to get dressed before Gracen freaked out completely. Too long. Damn eighteenth-century dresses.
“A mistake, that’s what this was,” he muttered, more to himself than to me. “It was a mistake.”
Heat flooded my cheeks. “A mistake?” I asked incredulously. If we'd been drunk, I could've seen that explanation, but we were stone-cold sober. We knew what we were doing and who we were doing it with. “I’m sorry, did I trip and fall naked into your bed before you accidentally rolled on top of me?”
Gracen stopped his pacing and glared at me. “This is not a laughing matter, Honor!”
“Do I look like I’m laughing, Gracen?” I snapped back.
“This was wrong. It shouldn’t have happened.”
I stared at him in utter disbelief, my mind turning with the hundreds of different comebacks I wanted to throw in his face. I couldn’t believe how incredibly naïve I'd been, believing that last night had meant something more than just sex.
“You know what?” I finally said. “You’re absolutely right.”
I threw off the sheet and climbed out of bed, naked, inwardly wincing as Gracen looked away. Bastard. He was obviously ashamed of what we'd done, and while I could understand the ramifications of sleeping with a person while engaged to someone else, he didn't need to be an ass about it. My hands shook as I pulled my dress on, embarrassed that I had lost control of my emotions long enough to get myself into this mess.
“What should we do now?” Gracen glanced over his shoulder and then turned to face me.
I gave him a confused look. “What do you mean?”
“What will we tell my father?” Gracen asked. “How will we explain this?”
I frowned at him. “What the hell are you talking about?” I asked. “We don't have to tell your father anything. It’s clear that what happened last night meant absolutely nothing to you, so let’s just act like it never happened, and we can both go about our lives.”
“Act like nothing happened?” His surprise showed on his face. “How can we act like nothing happened?”
“Just forget it,” I snapped back. “This isn’t the first time I've seen a man act like a bastard after sex.”
Technically, that was true, but I knew it wasn't really comparable. Gracen, however, didn't know that.
He flinched. “What?”
“Did you think this was my first time?” I could hear the bitterness in my laugh. “Oh, don’t worry, Master Lightwood. You're not responsible for taking my virginity, so don't feel like you owe me anything.”
I started to push past him, only to be stopped when he grabbed my arm. My hand curled into a fist, and I barely managed to keep myself from punching him.
“It was a trick,” Gracen hissed at me. “Last night was a ruse. You seduced me!”
I yanked my arm from his grip but didn't back away. “You kissed me,” I reminded him. “You brought me to your room.”
“Trickery,” he said, his lips curling in anger. “You planned it all, didn't you? You intended to get pregnant and trap me into marriage.”
I slapped him even as I felt the color drain from my face. I'd never been so humiliated, having someone accuse me of trying to trick...I couldn't even think of it. Tears stung my eyes. It was one thing to hurt over a miscommunication about what last night had meant to each of us. It was something completely different to be accused of something so manipulative and cruel.
The fact that he could think me capable of such a thing told me that I didn't know him as well as I thought I did.
And that my father had been right. Acting on emotion was stupid, and all I had now was regret.
“I have work to do,” I said. “Excuse me, Master Gracen.” I practically ran from the room before he could respond.
I didn’t want to be anywhere near him right now. In fact, all I wanted was to go home. My real home and time. I didn't want to be here anymore.
Chapter Twenty-Two
After quickly washing up with the tepid water I had in my room, I changed into my other dress. I didn't linger, didn't look at anyone as I hurried into the kitchen and grabbed the water buckets without being told they needed filled. Titus gave me a startled but approving look as I stepped out into the hot summer morning. He continued to send me surprised glances as I moved from one chore to the other, working with the sort of speedy efficiency I'd learned growing up in a military house. I didn't speak to anyone, didn't make eye contact.
I was pretty sure that Titus assumed it was his influence that had sparked the change, but, the truth was, I only wanted to keep my mind off Gracen. I didn't really care what the steward or anyone else thought of me, not that I knew now what Gracen's assessment of my character was.
I hated myself for sleeping with him, for believing that he'd look at sex with me as anything other than a mistake. I felt like a fool. I'd only known Gracen for a little over a week, and I'd thought we had some sort of special connection.
How could I have been so stupid? How had I let my emotions get the better of my judgment? I had been careful in the past few years to not let that happen, always trying to make logical decisions, things that could be calculated and planned. I supposed this was what I got for following my heart.
Still, I couldn't stop myself from being a little disappointed when the whole day passed without seeing Gracen at all. I told myself it was better that way, that I needed to cool down, to reevaluate my situation, and to really think about what the hell I was doing here in the first place. And what I should do next.
Gracen had been a distraction, I told myself. I still had no idea how I'd gotten to this time and place, but I'd given the matter too little thought over the past few days. I'd originally told myself that once I knew I was safe, I could take the time to start working through the problem.
Except all I'd really thought about was Gracen and a lot of good that had done me.
By the time evening came around, I'd finished up my work, and the skies outside were turning a bright red mixed with velvet darkness. I'd also finally managed to work the anger out of me.
More or less.
Wiping my hands on a hand cloth, I untied my apron and slumped heavily into the closest chair. It was quiet in the kitchen, and for a moment, I could almost pretend that everything I was trying to forget hadn't really happened.
“Master Lightwood is a happy man today.”
Dye's voice came from my rig
ht. I opened my eyes and watched her set a couple of empty buckets by the door, ready to be filled tomorrow first thing in the morning. I contemplated getting the task over and done with now before I went to bed, if only to see the surprise on Titus's face.
“He’s a smilin’ and a toastin’ like he be one of dem generals fightin’ the war.”
I frowned at her, a pang of something sharp going through my chest at the thought that Gracen had spent the day cheerful when I'd been so utterly miserable.
“What’s got him so happy?” I asked, wondering if I had possibly missed Clara’s arrival. Surely he'd be happy to see his unspoiled fiancée. I knew the Lightwoods were entertaining guests; I just hadn’t cared enough to find out who.
“The young Master Lightwood, he’s gone and joined the Redcoats. Left just after breakfast.” She gave me a curious look, as if I should've known.
I felt my heart jump into my throat, and my eyes widen in surprise. Whatever anger I'd felt towards Gracen earlier was now replaced by dread and worry. I looked at Dye in disbelief, unable to wrap my head around what she just said.
“Gracen?”
Dye nodded. “Master Lightwood gots himself a nice bit of attention now,” the black woman said in disgust. It was clear where her loyalties were. “Would almost serve him right if those rebels sent his boy back in a box.”
I jumped to my feet and grabbed Dye's arm. “Don't say things like that!” My voice came out more harshly than I'd intended.
She pulled her arm away, and I let it go. Her eyes flashed as she stared up at me.
“You’s a fool, Honor Daviot. Ain’t no place for the likes of you in a Lightwood bed.”
My eyes widened even as heat flooded my face. How many people knew what happened between us? He'd acted like what we'd done had been something to be ashamed of, but maybe once I'd told him that I'd had sex before, he'd changed his mind and decided that bedding a servant might be something to brag about.
“You best be findin’ your way home, or wherever you going, and leave matters here be,” Dye warned, her voice soft. “Dis ain’t no place for a girl like you.”