Page 24 of The Lady
“Good girl,” he said, rubbing his hand over her lower back. Delilah wiggled in anticipation, very much like an eager puppy ready to play and did not care that the comparison was embarrassing. Part of her reveled in her role as his pet. Then his cock thrust inside of her with no preamble, and she cried out at the delicious sensation of being suddenly and roughly stretched open. Her body rocked forward, nipples dragging across the sheets, stimulated by the fabric. One hard hand gripped her hip, holding her in place while he thrust in and out of her with hard, long strokes. The other was tugging on her tail, making her body clench around both his cock and the plug, adding to the intense sensations growing inside of her.
She came hard, screaming out Henry’s name into the bedsheets, her entire body quivering and shuddering with passion for the man who had mastered her.
11
The Tramp
Henry was not accustomedto feeling anything less than full confidence. Unease, wariness had been strangers to him for years. Now, despite his self-assurance on the outside, he felt a nervous churning deep in his gut.
He would not allow his pet, his lady, to be taken from him. Tapping his finger on the accounts for Lady Felton’s son, he wondered if he should make his move preemptively, or if admitting where Delilah was would only exacerbate the situation.
No.
It was better to let things play out. Henry was not a gambler, but anyone running a hell knew there were times when you had to let the cards ride. If he was lucky, he would not even need Lord Verisy’s debts to come into play. He had accumulated all of them from all the houses in the past week. It was a tidy sum, one which the young man had been unable to pay and continued to grow as he visited the tables nightly. Henry had asked his fellow hell owners to pass all of Lord Verisy’s accounts onto him, which they had been only too happy to do. They did not care who paid it as long as it was paid. Henry was perfectly happy to pay—the more leverage he had over the Felton family, the better. If it came to that.
Still, he did take some precautions. His pet was no longer allowed to stand beside him on the balcony, he kept her on all fours. While no one had recognized her as yet, there was no point in taking unnecessary risks. She did not leave his side when she was allowed out of their room, so he could always watch her.
So far, he had not changed his bribes to the Runners to stay away because such a change would be questioned, but Butch and Frank were keeping their ears to the gossip chain among thetons’ servants as well as those in the street. The Runners mostly seemed to be avoiding the Warren, as they often did, although a few had been seen walking the streets and several of the bawdy houses had been visited, the madams questioned about a young lady of Delilah’s description. That she might have ended up in adifferentkind of house did not seem to occur to them. As he often was, Henry was both thankful for and scornful of their ineptitude.
As several more days passed, with no changes in the reports, Henry began to relax again. Which, of course, was when everything went to hell.
He was on the balcony with Delilah, as he was every night, with Butch walking the floor while Frank stood watching from above with Henry, ready to be sent down if there was any trouble stirring. The first signs did not come from the floor, but from the entrance.
Like a hawk, Henry’s head swiveled when he heard the shouts and braced himself on the balcony, leaning forward to see what was the matter.
“Bloody Bow Street,” he snarled when he saw the men coming in. He recognized two of the men, who were regularly paid to leave his hell alone. That they had breached the doors meant something else was motivating them, most likely the hefty reward being offered for the return of Delilah.
Shouts of outrage came from below, as well as noblemen retreating from the fray rather than counting on their bloodlines to protect them.
“Take her out the tunnel.” Henry barked the order at Frank, handing off Delilah’s leash. She looked frozen with fear and horror. Yanking off his coat, Henry wrapped it around her, dropping a quick kiss to her cheek. “Go with Frank, pet, he’ll protect you with his life.”
Henry would go with her if he could, but his best chance of protecting her now lay in facing off with the Runners himself—and keeping them from seeing her.
* * *
The Lady
The warmthof Henry’s coat was cold comfort as she scampered down the hall after the silent Frank.
More shouts and screams followed them down the hall. The floor of the hell had erupted in violence, and she knew Henry was wading into the center of it. Selfishly, she wished for his presence beside her. She knew he was doing what he felt was best, but without him there to reassure her, her terror was rising fast. Taking some small comfort in Frank’s lack of panic, she clutched the edges of the coat tightly around her. It felt odd to be covered up and walking on two feet. Strangely, the tail swishing behind her brought her comfort as well. Feeling the plug inside of her always reminded her of who had placed it there and made her feel claimed, safe.
She would take these small comforts while she and Frank made their escape. And escape it was. She knew Henry thought the men who had come pouring into the hell were there for her, or else he would not have sent her back to his rooms. Whatever this tunnel was, she did not think it would lead to somewhere within the building.
“‘ere,” Frank grunted, coming to a halt beside the storage room for the kitchen. Delilah watched curiously as he went to the back wall and pulled on something to the side of the shelves. There was a creaking noise, then the shelves began to move, Frank’s muscles bulging as he pulled it away from the wall. Behind it, the dark mouth of a tunnel yawned wide, and Delilah shivered. She had not left this building since arriving and truly had no wish to... but she could not stay, either.
Not if the men were here for her.
So, she followed Frank into the tunnel, her heart pounding, pulling in Henry’s coat tighter and tighter as if it could bring her the same feeling of safety, she received from his arms around her. The tunnel was dark, the floor cold and hard against her bare feet, and the flickering light of the torch Frank had lit before they entered did not reveal more than a few feet ahead of them as they walked. It was not a long walk, but the silence was fraught with tension as she wondered what was happening behind them.
If Henry was safe.
If he would want to be rid of her after the trouble she’d caused with her mere presence.
“‘ere,” Frank said again, coming to a halt at the end of the tunnel. There was a door, completely ordinary looking, and Delilah stumbled ahead of him through it into a large room full of crates.
“Where are we?” she whispered, turning toward Frank, who closed the door behind him.
“The docks. C’mon.”
