Page 75 of The Damsel
She closed her eyes and gave herself over to him completely for the first time, wrapping her arms and him. The pleasure of the moment surrounded them both, and before long he was panting and moaning against her neck, pressing soft kisses against her skin, plunging as deep into her as humanly possible. And still, it did not feel like enough. He would never stop trying to go deeper and deeper, until they ceased being two people and became one. He took her hands and fit his fingers between hers, capturing her mouth as climax loomed near.
She broke first, crying out and shuddering beneath him, her fingers clenching tighter until his knuckles ached. The little jolt of pain threw him closer to his end, tremors wracking him as he fought for more time.
But then, because the need to give him the exquisite pleasure-pain he craved would never be far from her, she turned her head and latched onto his neck with lips and teeth. With a roar and one final thrust of his hips, he released inside of her, shaking and fighting for breath as it spiraled through him with overwhelming force. He seemed to fly free of his body for a moment, a heady dizziness sweeping over him as his vision went hazy. Then, he collapsed on top of her with a heavy sigh, the brand of her bite mark warm and perfect against the side of his neck.
TWO WEEKS LATER…
Robert made his way through the trees, inhaling the pure, clean scent of the outdoors. Night had fallen hours ago, and he was anxious to see Cassandra. Only one day had passed since the last time they were together, but he felt as if it had been an eternity.
They’d returned from London a few days after Cassandra’s harrowing incident. As he’d suspected, the deaths of Stratford and Downing had set London ablaze, the papers filled with varying accounts and exaggerations. The case of the Masked Menace continued to baffle them all, but as Robert and Cassandra had agreed, the mysterious highwayman died that day and would never reemerge.
She had confessed to feeling a certain peace about it.
“By taking justice into my own hands, I only made matters worse,” she’d said to him during their carriage ride home. “There are simply too many ways I could cause more harm to the people I want to protect. I … I think what’s more important is that women like Lady Downing and the others come to see that they must fight for themselves. It was not easy when I did it, and the consequences may follow me for the rest of my life, but I will never regret it. Maybe what we did can prove to others that they have the power to do the same.”
He’d been relieved to hear that, considering their newfound happiness. He didn’t want anything to destroy that, and the thought of losing her would never stop being debilitating. To lose her now would crush him, and he only wanted the future to hold hope and life, not despair and death.
Leaving her at Easton Park and returning home had been difficult, when all he wanted was to spend every spare moment he had with her. But, he’d needed to look in on his father and reassure his mother. He had assumed she’d be worried sick over him leaving for London so abruptly, and he’d been right. She had fussed and fretted over him, demanding to know where he had been.
After the hellish time he’d had, the last of his patience with her had dissipated. After having yet another cup of tea thrust into his hands, he'd snapped.
“For the love of God! How many times do I have to tell you I don’t like tea?”
She’d jumped with shock when he stood and slammed the cup back onto the tray she’d brought to him. One hand over her bosom, she’d stared at him as if he’d gone mad.
“Robert, what on Earth has gotten into you? Are you ill?”
He’d ducked his head before she could check his brow for fever, heaving a frustrated grunt. “I’m fine. In fact, I’m better than I have been in some time. I’m in love with Lady Cassandra Lane and I intend to make her my wife. That is what I was doing in London, Mother. She left, and I went after her and refused to return without her.”
She blinked several times, her mouth gaping and shutting several times as if she searched for words. “You must be ill, delirious with fever. You are spouting nonsense!”
“No, the way we live is nonsense,” he countered, reaching out to take hold of her shoulders. “Mother, I love you … but, your constant worrying and coddling must cease. I’m not a boy anymore. William, Jonas, and Andrew were young and we lost them. It hurt … it hurts every day. But we cannot let it make us afraid.”
Tears filled her eyes as she stared up at him, trembling in his hold. “I am afraid every day … all the time. Every morning when I wake, I fear I will enter your father’s chamber to find he has stopped breathing. When you are not here, I dream about you dying in horrible ways, each time different than the last. Since you were a boy you’ve died a thousand deaths in my dreams. Do not tell me not be afraid! When your father is gone, you will be all I have left.”
Pity overwhelmed him for his mother, who meant well despite being overbearing. He understood her dread all-too well. It had held him back from so many things in life.
“I don’t have to be all you have left,” he said, gentling his voice. “There could be Cassandra, too. There could be children. Don’t you want to be a grandmama?”
She gave a wobbly smile at that. “Of course I do, but—”
“No,” he interjected. “No buts, no maybes, no speculation over death or loss or the future. William didn’t know he was going to die … but before he did, he enjoyed his life. He reveled in London and went to university and rushed headlong into saving a woman’s life because it was the right thing to do. Jonas didn’t know he was going to die, but he lived every day like it was his last. He craved adventure and chased it wherever it would take him. And Andrew … he was just a boy, but there seemed to be the soul of an older man inside him.”
The baroness laughed at that, her smile widening through her tears. “He never wanted to stop learning new things.”
“Exactly,” he’d replied. “I don’t know when I’m going to die, or when you or Father will die. I don’t want to know, and I refuse to spend every day worrying about it. I may never understand why we survived and they didn’t, but while we are still in this world we have a chance to live life the way they did. To learn new things, and chase adventures, and revel in the exciting. That’s what I want … and I want it with Cassandra, and you, and Father for however much time there is left.”
She’d collapsed into his arms and wept, clinging to him as she always did. But this had felt different. Instead of feeling as if she were holding him back, Robert felt in the depths of his soul that she was finally setting him free.
“I love you, my dear, sweet boy,” she had said, patting his cheek. “You have always been the light of my life, my pride and joy. I never thought any woman could be good enough for you. I still believe that.”
He’d laughed, reaching into his coat to offer her a handkerchief. “You haven’t come to know Cassandra yet. When you do, you’ll see she’s perfect for me. You were right about Daphne. At least, about her not being the woman for me. But Cass … she’s the one, I can feel it. I love her, and so will you.”
The baroness had given him a skeptical look, but said no more. The rest of the day had passed with an excruciating slowness, but he’d been forced to wait. Cassandra wouldn’t be expecting him until evening, and he’d needed the time to think over what he would say. She had confessed her love for him … but would she marry him? After all that had happened, she might still need time to grow accustomed to this new life—a life in which she was not the Masked Menace, where Bertram no longer haunted her, and where she was free to be and do whatever she wished.
But, he couldn’t wait any longer. He felt as if he’d been waiting his entire life for her. Whether she agreed to marry him or not, she would never be rid of him. He’d beg her every day if he had to.
He knew how she loved it when he begged.
