Pleasure and Purpose (10 page)

Cursing and blowing, he stood, face dripping. "And how fare you this morn, my friend? If my head hurts, yours must be fair to bursting. Did I hear Cillian?" Edward nodded. "He's here."

Alaric went to the small window and peered out, then turned back to Edward. "Not alone. It would appear our lord prince has arrived with full retinue." Edward pushed Alaric aside to look out the window. "To the Void with him!"

"Looks like you're about to host a brannigan."

"You are utterly too jolly for this morning." Edward bent to the basin himself, splashing frigid water all over himself and yelping with it.

Alaric handed him a towel. "Why shouldn't I be, after last night?" Edward took the towel and looked up. Their gazes met. "Last night is a mite hazy to me, Alaric."

The other man's smile didn't dim in the least, though his gaze flickered a bit. "We both made love with and were made love to by that beautiful woman now brewing us ease for our poor abused pates. Nothing else."

Edward nodded. "If there had been something else. . . ." Alaric lifted a brow, but said nothing. A first for him, letting a statement like that slide, and Edward understood at once the significance of his friend's silence. Alaric said nothing further, merely shrugged and bent back to the basin.

"If I'm going to be hosting a brannigan, I shall call on your help," he said. "As I'm rather shite with that sort of thing."

"I'll do my best to help you with my remarkable skill with parlor games." Alaric looked out the window again. "Well, fuck me hard behind the stable." Edward looked up at that, a laugh forcing its way out his reluctant throat. "What?"

"Lady Larissa." Alaric grinned. "She's just stepped out of her carriage." It was the wrong season for a brannigan, the weeks-long house party generally thrown in winter when weather made travel difficult and guests and activities helped ease the dullness of short days and long nights. Apparently, Cillian Derouth didn't care for such constrictions on his social life.

"Food and lodging I can easily provide," Edward said that night, slouched in front of the fire while she knelt before him to unlace his boots. "But entertainment I'm sorely lacking."

He took the glass of warmed wine from her and settled back while she put soft slippers on his feet.

"Alaric, I'm certain, could aid you in that." Nessa got up to poke the fire into brighter blaze, then returned to her place at his feet.

"Aye, Alaric."

"So allow him to organize them." It seemed simple enough. "Or perhaps the ladies who've arrived would play hostess, as you've none."

She'd not meant it as reproach, but Edward's eyes told her he took it that way.

"I don't want you to think I'm ashamed of you."

"I know you're not ashamed of me."

It was himself that shamed him, and for that she could do naught.

Edward gestured for her to lay her head upon his thigh, which she did with a contented sigh. His hand passed over her hair in smooth strokes. "Unbind your hair." He wove his fingers through the braid-kinked strands until they fell across her shoulders and back. Nessa closed her eyes and rubbed her cheek against the soft cloth of his trousers. His hand on her head petted and soothed, as much a pleasure to her as solace to him. She waited, gauging his mood by the tension in his muscles.

Happy people didn't request the services of a Handmaiden. All of her patrons were in some way damaged. As she herself had been damaged. Sometimes, Nessa discovered the source of her patron's pain and was able to dissipate it. For others she never learned what secrets in their past had hurt them, but it didn't matter, for she succeeded in helping them anyway.

Edward was different from all of them, every one she'd ever had. The kind and the cruel, the smart and foolish, the generous and stingy. He'd touched something inside her no other had, and the realization of that was enough to tense her muscles. Edward was different because . . . she was falling in love with him. At the infinitesimal tightening of her body against his leg, Edward's hand came once more to rest upon her head. "What disturbs your

"It is my place to ask that of you, Edward, not yours to question me. He urged her with his touch to look up at him. "I would know your secrets."

"I've bared them all to you." She got up on her knees and reached to touch his cheek.

"Will you tell me yours?"

He shook his head. He moved her palm over his mouth to kiss it, his lips warm. Nessa got up and settled onto his lap, an arm curving round his neck to put her forehead to his.

"Edward," she whispered. "I want so much to see you happy."

"Because it is your pleasure and your purpose?" He nuzzled her cheek with his lips before looking into her eyes.

"Not only that. No." She kissed his mouth with sweet intent, though the underlying spark of constant passion between them was impossible to ignore.

His hand slipped up to tangle in the hair at the base of her neck. "Will you understand me when I say I want you to fail in your purpose?"

She smiled a little, her throat tight with sudden, nameless emotion. "My expense is too great? You wish to recoup what you've paid to the Order?"

He shook his head. "No. But if you succeed, you'll have to leave. And I don't want you to leave me."

She took a long, slow breath. "If I fail, I would have to leave you, as well."

"Do you always have to leave your patrons, Nessa?"

"I do."

"Have you ever wanted to stay?"

She took his face in her hands and kissed his mouth slowly, and pulled away just enough to breathe against his lips. "Yes, Edward. I have."

With a low groan, he slanted his lips to hers. His hand tightened in her hair, pulling. His tongue dove inside her mouth, stroking her into a gasp of desire.

He pulled back suddenly. "Every time I think I've sated myself with you, I discover I haven't. I'm not sure I ever can."

"I'm happy to serve you-—"

"No." He shook his head. "It's more than that. Tell me what it is." Nessa hesitated. She was never unable to put aside her training, to forget her pleasure and her purpose. Telling him what he wished to hear would surely grant him a moment's peace but in the end might harm more than help. The line was fine, the edge sharp; a false step would slice them both.

His hand in her hair tightened, bringing another gasp from her. "Answer me."

"It pleases me to know that I so please you."

This answer, while the truth, seemed not to satisfy him. He pushed her from his lap, not ungently but without any question as to his intent. "I sent for you because I needed someone who would not play emotional games. A companion who would ease my mind. Make my home a haven and a comfort."

"Have I done so?" She made to go into the Waiting, but his command stopped her.

"Stay on your feet. Yes, Stillness, you have. You have brought light and warmth to these rooms beyond the simple matter of tea and clean floors. And for that, I'm grateful."

"I'm pleased—"

He stood, towering over her. "There's more. You've pleased my mind, but my body, too. An unexpected but welcome gift."

She said nothing, looking up into his face.

"You're here to give me something I think impossible for me to attain."

"Absolute solace. Even a moment of it and my duty is fulfilled."

"And you will do anything I need to achieve that goal. Will you not?" His voice had gone low and dangerous again. It sent an anticipatory shiver through her. She nodded.

"Yes."

"Then tell me," he said, voice like silk snagged on a rough branch, "that I'm more to you than just another patron."

She wanted to, by the Arrow, she did. But there was no place for love in a Handmaiden's life. Nothing good could come of such a revelation, and her duty wasn't to her heart, but to his.

"I value each of my patrons individually, Edward," Nessa said at last. "Each is unique to me, and each holds a separate but equal place in my heart."

Edward lifted his chin, and when he spoke, ironwood had replaced the silk in his voice.

"Then if I'm like all the others, I shall devote myself to the effort of helping you succeed in your task. I shall allow you to grant me solace."

This answer didn't make her happy, said as it was in such a cold tone. "Edward—"

"Take off your gown."

Never before had she had such trouble with obedience. Her hesitation was unintended, the result of the conflict in her mind and heart. Where always in the past she'd been able to set her thoughts to automatic response, now, here, she couldn't seem to manage to find the place within herself that was entirely Handmaiden, and not entirely Nessa.

"I
said take
off your clothes." The command was harsh and startled her into putting her fingers to the buttons at her throat. Edward's gaze glinted. He seemed to grow larger, more intimidating. "Now."

"Yes."

"Yes, sir," he told her.

"Yes, sir." She undid her buttons swiftly and peeled open the gown, stepped out of it and folded it neatly to put on the footstool.

"Hold," he said when she'd begun loosing the laces at the neckline of her shift. "I would see you this way for a moment."

She froze, heart hammering. She searched his face, but of the tender man who'd cradled her on his lap moments ago there was no sign. In his place was the man who used his teeth. The man she knew could be hard but kind in his severity, the one she knew could give her the release she craved, if only he would admit himself capable of it. She shivered, her nipples peaking and drawing his attention. Between her legs, her clit throbbed once, and as if he could see that, too, his eyes went there.

"With the firelight behind you, your body is outlined in red and gold and shadow. I can see every curve, every line right through the fabric of your shift. Your nipples, begging for my tongue. That sweet slit between your legs, begging for my cock to fill it." She swallowed hard, her throat tight now with an emotion she
could
name. Lust. Pure, fierce lust. She shifted a bit, legs parting.

"Take off your gown."

She did.

"Move your feet apart. Open your legs."

She did that, too, her breath coming in small jerks as her heart pounded. The heat from the fire caressed her back while the heat from his eyes did the same to her front.

"I want to see your pearl. Show it to me."

Nessa slid her hand between her legs and used her fingers to part her curls and expose herself to his eyes. The touch made her bite her lip and take in a long, deep breath.

"You're wet." Edward sounded satisfied. "This arouses you. Doing as I tell you."

"Yes, sir. It does."

"It will feel good for you to take some of your nectar and rub it on your pearl. Do it." With a shudder, she did, dipping a finger into her folds and drawing it upward again to slide easily over her clit. Edward hissed at the sight, and Nessa's hips pumped forward, against her hand.

"Your nipples are begging for attention, too. You like them to be pinched, don't you? Twisted. You like that little pain." His voice had grown hoarse. The front of his trousers bulged with an erection Nessa longed to caress.

Again, she nodded. "I do, yes, sir. Yes."

"Because it allows you to forget everything else."

"Yes, sir!"

Her thighs trembled as her clit engorged under her touch. Her nipples grew tighter, too, tingling and throbbing as much as her bead. She let her hand move up to cover a breast, palm against her aching flesh for a moment before her fingers clamped down and both hands moved in tandem, pinching and stroking.

"You could bring yourself off in another moment, couldn't you?" Edward whispered, watching. "You could come like that, with me watching."

She murmured an answer. "If it pleases you."

"It does not," said Edward sharply. "You will be sated when I grant you permission and not before. Do you understand?"

She stopped her stroking, though her body protested. "Yes, sir."

"I have seen full well how much you like to come. Your orgasm will be your reward for pleasing me. Do you understand?"

She nodded, watching him. His eyes had gone half lidded, watching her. He looked toward the cabinet she'd been forbidden to open.

"In that cabinet, on the shelf, is a box. Bring me the small casket inside." The cabinet doors creaked as she opened them, but inside she found only unlabeled boxes and drawers. Which one? She thought swiftly, opening her mind to him and what she knew of him, and put her hands to the first box in front of her. Within it was the small, carved casket. She brought it to him, Waited at his feet.

"Come here."

She followed him to his desk, wondering at what he held. Edward set the casket on the desk and took out the first piece, a thin, gold chain with a gem dangling from one end and a small loop of gold attached to the other. He lifted an identical piece from the casket and held them up so the gems danced and reflected the firelight.

"Do you know what these are?"

"Earbobs?"

"No." He cupped a hand beneath her left breast and slipped the loop of the piece over her nipple. "Not for your ears."

She gasped as it slid on, the fit snug but not painful. In moments her nipple turned a dusky rose color and tingled deliciously. The dangling gem weighted the chain just enough for her to feel each twist and turn. She gasped again when he slid the other loop onto her right nipple.

"You will wear these as you attend me this evening." Without waiting for an answer, Edward reached into the casket and pulled out another, similar piece. Instead of a loop at the end, however, it had a V-shaped piece of gold and two dangling chains weighted with gems. "Sit on the edge of the desk and open your legs."

Shaking in anticipation, Nessa did. The wood was smooth and cool beneath her rear.

"Grip the edge of the desk with your hands. You will not move them unless I give you permission."

She curled her fingers around the desk's smooth edge and parted her legs wider. Edward moved between them. She waited, breathless, but he looked without touching for some long moments while her clit grew ever harder and hotter beneath his inquisitive gaze.