Page 64 of Wicked Games

His warm hand splayed across my front, applying pressure to push me back against his body. Leaning in, he whispered huskily into my ear, “Like what?”

“Nervous. You’re just so strong and powerful. Scared you’ll kiss me. Scared you won’t,” I breathed, becoming affected by my own words.

Richard turned me in his arms just like he did that night so long ago in my dressing room. Grasping my face with his hands, he tilted my head back. His breath came in quick rasps against my lips.

“Do you have any idea how long I waited to taste you?” he growled before his head lowered to mine.

The force of his kiss pushed me back against the desk. Lifting me by the waist, Richard placed me on the desk’s surface and began grasping and clawing at the fabric of my skirts as he pushed them high.

Delving my fingers into his hair, I licked along the column of his throat before scraping my teeth against his earlobe. Breathing harshly, I whispered, “Was I worth the wait?”

A low guttural sound emanated from deep inside his chest as he reached up to tear the delicate lace of my bodice, forcing the fabric off my shoulders and down my arms. I pulled my hands free as he inhaled the lavender scent of my skin before licking the space between my breasts. “God, yes.”

Wrapping my arms around his waist, I pulled him closer as his hand found the slit in my pantalets. My head fell back on a moan as I felt the familiar guilty pull of his touch on my body. Desperately, I tried to remain focused.

Remember the plan.

Sliding my fingers along the waistband of his trousers, I pressed the palm of my hand against the rigid shaft of his cock. In all of our time together, I had never been so bold with him. “Why didn’t you fuck me that night in the theater, Richard? I wanted you so bad. I didn’t give a damn about that stupid play or the cast party. All of London could have burned at our feet.”

With one hand, he pushed two fingers inside my already aroused body. The other he used to start undoing his trousers. “Fuck, I wanted to, Elizabeth. I wanted nothing more than to push you against that dressing room wall and shove my cock deep inside you.”

“Did you know in that moment I was fantasizing about you doing just that? Ripping that beautiful Vampire’s Wife gown you had just given me right off my body in your desperation to touch me.”

Richard groaned as he once more captured my mouth. As his tongue plunged inside to take possession, he ground his hips between my thighs.

“When you didn’t, I became so frightened that you didn’t want me or were somehow disappointed.” I stilled. Holding my breath.

Not noticing, Richard kissed my neck. “You’ve been mine from the first moment I laid eyes on you… but I had to stick to the plan.”

“What plan, Richard?”

He froze. I could physically feel the very moment he realized what I had done. The sudden tension in his shoulders. The shallow breaths as he once more tried to master his control.

He had broken character.

The cardinal rule in the theater was to never, ever, no matter what happened, break character, otherwise the entire illusion disappeared like a wisp of smoke.

Gone was the Victorian Duke of Winterbourne.

Before me now was Mr. Richard Payne.

His hand flew up to grab me by the throat. I screamed and clawed at his hand.

“You think you are so clever, Elizabeth?”

“Please, Richard! You’re hurting me!”

“It won’t be the first time… or the last. You think I’m the only one playing this sick game of ours? You think this is the first time you’ve caught me in the lie?” he growled.

My elation over finally having confirmation that I wasn’t crazy ebbed. No. No. I mustn’t listen to him. I was right! I was right! This wasn’t real! I was not crazy. He just confirmed that our time in the theater happened, which meant I was not his ward trapped in the Victorian era. It was all a lie.

His hand shifted to my hair. Pulling me by my own curls, Richard dragged me off the desk and across the room. Shrieking, I tried to dislodge his fists to no avail. My breasts spilled out over the top of my corset, exposing me to the licentious gazes of the servants as Richard marched me past them up the stairs.

“Stop! Stop! It’s over. Let me go!”

Richard pushed me across the threshold of my bedroom. I turned and tried to run but he once more grabbed me by the hair. Turning me around, his hand dug into my face and jaw as he forced me to look at him. “It’s over when I say it’s over. And trust me, baby, you love this game just as much as I do, that’s why you keep coming back for more abuse at my hand. You’re just as obsessed as I.”

I tried to shake my head as my eyes widened in horror. No. He was lying to me again. Trying to get me off balance. Trying to get me to once more question my reality. “You’re lying!” I yelled.

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