"I’ll never banish you again,” she said as she moved up and down on him. She clenched her inner muscles, wanting to hold him tight inside of her and never let him out. "You scared me so much that night. Was that your true form?”
"Only the form of my soul,” he said. "A prisoner, deformed, half animal.”
"You’re beautiful to me,” she said. "I’ll do whatever it takes to free you.”
"The time will come when I’ll ask you to do something you don’t want to do again.”
"I don’t care. I’ll do it anyway. There’s nothing you could ask me to do that I won’t allow.”
"Will you let me go when it’s time?”
"If you’ll leave me your child in your place, then yes,” she said. "But please don’t ask that of me, my love.”
"You don’t love me.”
"I do, I swear I do.” She showered his face with kisses. "Tell me how to prove it and I’ll prove it to you.”
"When I must leave you, you’ll know what to do.”
"Then when you leave me, I’ll do it.”
Though he was whole and healthy again, he still nursed from her breasts. She knew once they were empty they wouldn’t be full again until she’d had his child. She didn’t know what magic made this possible but she didn’t question it. She’d never felt closer to a lover, not even those long nights with Ryan inside her, shielding her from the reality of her mother’s illness. Malcolm pushed her gown down to her waist and ran his hands along her bare back. The floor was hard and cold underneath them and tore at her knees, but to her it was finer than any luxurious bed since Malcolm was inside her again.
Beneath her, Malcolm lifted his hips, pushing into her from below. She held perfectly still as he rocked his hips and pounded into her. It was heaven to take him, to spread her thighs and open herself to receive all of him. He reached under her dress again, found her clitoris and kneaded it. The pleasure was unbearable. She could hardly stay silent as he took her, fully in control of her body even as he lay on his back chained to the wall. His money had made her a whore, but his cock had made her his slave. She never wanted to taste freedom again. She only wanted to taste him.
"Come for me,” he said into her ear. He took her breast in his mouth again and sucked it while he stroked her under her skirts. A low soft moan emanated from the back of her throat and the contractions began. Her wet inner walls clenched and released before they were seized with a violent fluttering that dragged on and on. She felt it in her back, in her thighs, in the inmost parts of her. At last it passed and she collapsed onto him, her sore breasts pressed into his chest.
She kissed his mouth, his lovely mouth, and the kiss was lovely and loving. He took her by the waist and lifted her off of him.
"Now me,” he said. "Drink from me.”
It was her pleasure to do it. She slid down his body and took him into her mouth, tasting herself on his shaft. She wasted no time on the usual niceties but pulled the organ down her throat and sucked hard. He arched on the floor, his hips lifting, and he exploded into her mouth. As he came she pulled the semen out of him, sucking it down her throat, every drop, emptying his body as he’d emptied hers. After it was done she lay her head on his stomach and held his cock in her hand, cradling it between her naked breasts.
"How do I free you from this place?” she whispered. The guards would find them together like this any minute. She knew they would expel her and torture him for what they’d done together.
"Open your eyes,” he said.
She did as ordered and lifted her head. They were in the bed in the back room again. The iron chain on his ankle was gone. He looked like himself again, like her Malcolm, her lover, her owner, her god.
She glanced around the room, blinking, stupefied.
"How do you do it all?” she asked. "How do you make me see what I see?”
"You see what I see,” he said.
"Is it real?”
"It’s real enough.”
"Are you the devil?” she asked, knowing that the answer—yes or no—would change nothing between them.
"Do you believe in the devil?” Malcolm asked.
"No, but Mother did. Heaven and hell and anything fantastical, she believed in it all. Beauty over truth, always.”
"Not all that is beautiful is untrue, Mona.”
Malcolm took her by the waist and pulled her to him. He laid her on her back, lifted her skirts to her stomach and put his hand into her wet sex. It sank into her to his wrist. Her body stretched to accommodate him and once it had, it closed around his hand again, enveloping him, holding him within her where he belonged. She’d made Sebastian perform this very act on her and he had done so reluctantly and been horrified by it. Not Malcolm. He looked at her with near reverence as he worked his hand carefully in deeper.
"Why did you come to me?” she asked, resting her hand on the side of his face. "Why were you waiting for me? Why me? I’m not special. I’m not…anything.”
"Long ago I made a deathbed promise. I need you to help me keep it as I’m helping you to keep yours. I promise, you will understand in time, Mona. You’ll understand it all.”
She saw the truth in his eyes. Someday she would know who he was and when she knew who he was she would finally know herself. Tonight, it didn’t matter. She knew she was his and that was enough. Mona closed her eyes and rested her head back against the pillow. Malcolm filled her so entirely there was no space left inside her for doubts or fears. He kissed the tops of her still swollen breasts, and she smiled languidly. He had drained her and the emptiness was simply another aching void for him to fill.
"You’re tired, love,” he said. "Go to sleep. It’s almost dawn.”
"If I fall asleep, you’ll leave me again.”
"I’ve never left you when you slept.”
"But when I wake you’re not here.”
"When you wake you can’t see me. But I’m here. I’m always here.”
"Make me come again and I’ll sleep.”
"You’re terribly greedy.”
"For you,” she said. "Only greedy for you.”
He kissed her lips lightly and moved his head between her legs. With his hand inside her, he only lapped lightly at her clitoris to bring her to climax. Her sex quivered around his hand, squeezing it, holding it. It was ecstasy beyond words to be filled up so completely. She never wanted to be empty again and she told him that. When his hand slipped out of her at last, he replaced it with his cock. He rode her with long, slow strokes, seemingly endless. If only they were.
"I dreamed you were dead,” she said, half-asleep and falling fast as he rocked her with his deep and gentle thrusts. "I’m afraid I’ll dream that again.”
"You won’t dream that tonight, I promise.”
"Is this all a dream? That’s the only thing that makes any sense.”
"You aren’t dreaming,” he said, and she knew that was true. She was awake and had been every time they had met. "But if it were a dream, would you want to wake up?” he asked.
A good question. A fair question. A hard question, but one she answered easily.
"Never.”
The Luncheon on the Grass