Part 23 (1/2)

Kesseley couldn't even see, everything was black. Inside him, the locks and chains holding back old demons broke under the strain. He felt the ugly truth flood his veins-he couldn't fight anymore, wasn't strong enough to hold back this swift, strong current.

”So be it,” he spat.

He felt Henrietta's hands on his chest. ”No,” she cried. ”Take it back!”

He couldn't. He was his father. He turned on his heel and flew back down the stairs, his head pounding, his heart surging on. He was his father. He didn't know where he was going, but he had to get out, he knew that much.

Henrietta chased after him, catching his arm, her bare feet sliding on the floor. He swung around. She was scared, her eyes large and luminous. Her hair hung loose, curling around her breast, her nipples poking through her thin s.h.i.+ft. The candlelight behind her showed the curve of her thighs and the small feminine valley between her limbs.

”You're not your father! She didn't mean those words. You're not a horrid rake,” Henrietta cried.

”You are a stupid, naive girl.” He took her to him, pressing her against him until he could feel her-her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, her stomach, her thighs.

”I am trying to help. That's all I'm trying to do. Maybe if you could be more understanding-”

He put his finger over her mouth and tilted her head back until her large eyes were under his. He continued to move as he spoke, forcing her to walk backward into the parlor. ”I want you to tell me when in the last twenty-five years I haven't been understanding. When I didn't bend over backwards for you, when I didn't do your bidding. All that time you thought you controlled me, but I protected you, Henrietta. I protected you from all this-from me.”

”This isn't you, Kesseley. This is everything you are afraid of. You don't-”

”I thought as a boy you could save me, that quaint house of yours, your strange parents, your dreams you spun like a silken coc.o.o.n. Tell me, how does it feel inside? Is it comfortable? Does it s.h.i.+eld you from the ugliness surrounding this moment?”

”I'm sorry I was so blind to everything. I'm sorry I hurt you all those years. I love you.”

He sank his mouth onto hers, plunging his tongue deep inside her, taking her right into the heart of his ugliness. His fingers tangled in the chains of her mother's pendant. He felt the necklace loosen, then bounce off his thigh.

Henrietta didn't notice. Her lips desperately tried to slow his frantic pace. He wouldn't let her. Instead he lightly ran his thumb over her breast to shock her.

She lowered her head onto his shoulder. ”Do you want me to tell you how horrid you are? I can't. I love you. The real you.”

She entwined her fingers over his hand, still on her breast, then she raised her mouth and gently kissed the edge of his ear.

”I love you,” she whispered again.

She drew his head down and opened his mouth with her lips. Her tongue caressed his as he had taught her that night in the corridor. A thousand years ago. She nestled her body against his. The tip of her nipple teased his palm.

”Don't.” His voice trembled.

Despite his will, his p.e.n.i.s rose at her touch. Her mouth released his, and she let out an uneven breath.

”If you want me to be your mistress, I will,” she whispered. ”Show me everything I don't know if that will help you, if it will ease your anger.”

He didn't move-too angry and terrified. He wanted to hurt her as he had been hurt. He wanted to deny her so she might know the bitter pain of rejection. He wanted to wage some battle with his father, his mother on her body. He wanted...

He wanted her and that made him hate himself.

She stepped away from him, but kept her gaze on his face. Her throat contracted with her breath and she slowly drew down the sleeve of her s.h.i.+ft, revealing her right breast. A supple, perfect creation capped with a dainty pink tip. Kesseley heard his own inhale. Dear G.o.d. Dear G.o.d.

”Touch me,” she whispered.

Kesseley stumbled backward. ”No.”

”I want you to.”

She reached out and took his hand and placed it over her breast, her fingers guiding his over its delicate surface.

”Dearest Kesseley,” she murmured, oblivious to her own danger. ”Show me how to love you, so you don't have to go out tonight.”

She tugged his arm, pulling him to the sofa. She lay back on the cus.h.i.+ons and gave her body over to him.

He didn't know if it was rage or desire that made him want to drive himself into her and find that thoughtless oblivion of moving inside her body.

He lowered his head and kissed her breast, running his tongue over its lush tip. Her body rose under his mouth, and she released a high, sweet gasp. In an easy motion, he slid off the sofa and knelt onto the floor. He pulled her legs around him. The feminine contours of her body pressed against his hardness. He could feel the warm wetness of her femininity through his breeches. Her earthy scent covered him. Years and years of unfulfilled dreams and frustration pushed him on.

He rubbed his thighs over her s.e.x. His p.e.n.i.s strained to be inside her.

”Do you feel me?”

”Yes,” she whispered.

He moved in the rhythmic motions of love as he watched her face, a tenderness in her eyes that cut to his heart. He wanted her to yell at him, tell him to stop. He wanted to hate her.

”Is this what you always wanted?” she asked.

His skin p.r.i.c.kled. Above him, the crystals from the chandelier waited like cold, gray daggers. Henrietta dangled off the sofa, her legs apart, her s.h.i.+ft falling from her shoulders. No, this was not what he always wanted. He had wanted it to be beautiful for her, not this desperate act for an angry, vengeful man. He couldn't let her do it.

He pulled away, restored her s.h.i.+ft to her shoulder and brushed her cheek with his hand. ”I'm sorry.”

Tears swelled in her eyes. ”But I want you to,” she pleaded.

”Henrietta, don't you understand? Too much has happened.”

”No.” Her voice was a scarce breath.

He shook his head and rose to leave. ”It's too late.”

”Don't leave, Kesseley. Stay here. Please don't go out there tonight. You're too upset. Stay with me. You don't have to...You don't have to do anything.” Her words were choked with tears.

When he didn't stop, she ran around him and hid the doork.n.o.b behind her back. ”No, Kesseley. I'm afraid for you.”

”Goodbye,” he said, then gently pulled her from her station, stepped outside and shut the door.

Pain ripped through his chest and burned down his arm. He grabbed his heart and doubled over. For several seconds, he couldn't move. Finally, he pushed himself from the steps and headed out into the night.