"What's wrong?" he purred.
Nothing was wrong. He could feel her body trembling and couldn't resist pressing his lips to the flickering vein in her throat. He held himself there, right on the edge of danger, forcing himself to control the beast inside him. It wanted blood. Wanted to claim her in every way possible. A savage, irrepressible part of himself he'd never known existed.
"Oh, God." She arched her spine. Begged him. "Auvry!"
Adele came apart in his arms, a soft cry escaping her as she clutched at his shoulders. Malloryn slowly stroked his palms up and down her spine as her heartbeat raced.
He needed the respite. He was so close to spilling it wasn't amusing.
But Adele wasn't done yet.
"How do you always managed to turn the tables on me?" she gasped.
He laughed.
"This time I will not be thwarted," she said in a determined voice as she began to ride him again.
"Faster," he urged, fingers clamping around her hips.
Her eyes locked on his. "But you're not the one in control."
It was a devilish smile on her lips.
Taking his hands, she set them quite firmly on the arms of the chair. "Don't move," she whispered. "This is my moment. I want to bring the Duke of Malloryn to his knees."
"Think you can?"
His gaze was on hers as she rose up and down, glorying in this moment.
His fingers locked around the ends of the armchair. Oh, God. He wanted to reach for her, wanted to urge her faster. Heat flashed behind his eyelids as he threw his head back.
And then soft lips were at his throat as her hips rolled, grinding against him, clenching hard.
He broke his promise as he came, one hand lashing out and clutching at her. More. Harder. He thrust up into her, blunt teeth sinking into the soft flesh of her shoulder. Ecstasy pulsed through him, and he gave himself over to her, spilling deep inside her.
Panting hard, he dragged her against his chest as she wilted against him. Their heartbeats merged as Adele pressed her forehead against the crook of his throat.
A quiet moment, eased by the caress of his hand down her bare skin as they both came back down from the heavens.
She shivered, her body clenching around him, and Malloryn shifted.
Good lord. There was a smile on his lips as he slowly opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. He couldn't help himself.
"What's wrong?" Adele demanded, slowly lifting her head from his shoulder as if she sensed his smile.
Malloryn shook his head.
Everything.
"You've ruined my study for me," he told her, "and now this.... How the hell am I supposed to focus on a book when all I'll be able to think of is my lady wife having her way with me in this chair?"
The smile that spread across her mouth momentarily transfixed him.
"That's precisely the point. You're not supposed to be able to focus. Come to bed," she whispered.
The urge to obey her was incredibly potent.
Then she'd be in his arms all night, whether he chose to enjoy the taste of her skin further or merely fall asleep curled around her. He was so fucking tired, his head ached at the thought. Release. Relief. A moment of respite against the harsh reality of day, a moment in her arms.
She'd give it, if he asked for it.
But there was too much to do.
There always was.
He couldn't rest until Balfour was dead.
And he couldn't afford to let himself weaken even further, for somehow Adele ignited a piece of him he'd thought long-since buried. Every kiss was a dangerous trap that beckoned him down a long, seductive road.
"Maybe later," he said, and she slipped from his lap, a flash of chagrin crossing her face. "I need to return to the safe house. Now I have proof Devoncourt was at the warehouse, I can arrest him for questioning."
"Do you want company?"
He paused. "As you wish."
Adele sighed. "Give me twenty minutes to wash up."
Slipping into a clean gown, undergarments and boots, Adele pushed open the door to the bedroom, her skin all soft and dewy with the heat of her bath water. She'd cleaned up as best she could, but she could still feel the ache of his possession on her body.
He'd set his walls back into place the second they'd finished, but she'd seen the look in his eyes.
What was it going to take to break through those walls?
Patience, she told herself.
She was getting to him.
She just had to continue pushing.
The moment Adele set the lantern on the dresser in her room, she turned, lifting her hands to her damp hair to pin it. Malloryn would be waiting for her. Her shadow stretched out in front of her, growing rapid wings that seemed to swallow her whole.
She suffered a moment of confusion, before realizing the shadow was too big to be hers.
Adele half-turned, but it was too late.
A hand slammed over her face, wet linen smothering her mouth and nose. She tried to cry out, but the familiar scent of ether swam through her head. It was like déjà vu. Her wedding day happening all over again. Chemical crawled down her throat, its choking fingers slipping lassitude through her veins.
Lifting a foot, she stomped on her attacker's instep as Gemma had taught her, but the world started spinning. All she could do was lash out, hoping to grab something, anything, off the dresser….
Malloryn!
"Sorry, cherub," whispered a familiar voice, as the world started going dark around her. "But you picked the wrong side."
A thunk sounded above him.
Malloryn lifted his head as he set the sticky glass on the drinks table, and stilled. Heart suddenly beating faster, his hearing intensified as he focused outward.
All he could hear was the slow, steady shuffle of the butler moving about the house and throwing the locks. The tick of the enormous clock in the front hall. A carriage clattering past in the streets outside.
Where was she? She said she'd be twenty minutes.
Climbing the stairs, he set out toward her bedchamber.