Revealing Ruby (Bound and Determined #1.5)(14)

And Madame Rouge’s rules were very clear. The Countess had skirted them, but not broken them.

She wished she could just run away from it all, let somebody else be responsible.

Ruby focused on the mirror again.

She stared at cherry-stained lips and shining crimson hair. Madame Rouge would never give into such foolishness.

Turning from the mirror, she walked to the washstand and lifted the soft cloth, dipping into the fresh, warm water. Lavender met her nostrils. Sweet, pungent, relaxing. She breathed deep and then, soaping the cloth, scrubbed at her face, wiping away blackened lashes, pink cheeks, reddened lips.

It was the only moment of the day when she felt herself, remembered the world beyond the walls of the house.

Back to the dresser, to the mirror. Her skin glowed, colorless beneath the shining red curls. Her blue eyes faded without their black lining. Her lips were still full and dark, but even they were less without the brush of paint. She was just a girl, any girl. Although at twenty-eight it was hard to think of herself as a girl.

With trembling hands she reached up and pulled the wig from her head, setting it upon its stand. A quick pull at the pins and her own soft blond hair tumbled about her. It was not long, only brushing the tops of her shoulders. When she’d been a girl it had reached her waist, but now it needed to fit beneath the heavy wig.

She ran her fingers through it, fluffing it. Rolling her neck, she enjoyed the freedom. Was there a better moment of the day than this?

She pulled the ear bobs from her ears and set them aside with care.

Clear blue eyes met clear blue eyes in the mirror.

Emma Scanton.

Miss Emma Scanton stood before her, alive for the few private moments each day she was allowed. She looked out of place in the heavy blue velvet of the dress. A young girl playing dress-up, although she’d already established that she was not young—not that she’d ever been young.

She looked again at the dress. It should not have looked so out of place. In another life she might have worn it to a ball, danced with a lord, sipped at champagne. Granted, it would not have been cut as low or as tightly fitted. Her breasts would not have risen as if they had a life of their own.

Almost any woman would have required a maid’s help to escape the thing, but a woman in Ruby’s profession had to know how to undress alone. She reached out for a long hook and in a minute was free.

Catching another glimpse of herself in the mirror, she laughed—the low, deep chuckle that caught men’s attention.

Who would ever believe that Madame Rouge wore a simple white chemise and stays? Oh, she had other far more elaborate pieces, but whenever her gown would allow it she preferred the simple.

The sound of showering water stopped.

He was still there, still in the bathing chamber, only steps away.

She looked again in the mirror, looked at Emma, Emma who’d been put away before she had a chance to live.

The sound of the shower began again. He’d found the foot pedal.

Sensing the inevitability she moved to the wall and pressed open the passage.

Yes, it was inevitable.

—

It really was quite wonderful. The feeling of warm water pelting his body was like nothing he’d ever imagined, more than worth the effort of working the pedal to refill the bucket. He rolled his neck, easing his shoulders. God, it was good.

He wondered if it would be possible to rig up something like it on the Dawn’s Light. It didn’t require much water, which was always a necessity a couple weeks out from land.

And then his mind turned, as it had all evening, to Ruby. He imagined her beside him, wet and slick. He picked up the soap from the dish, rubbed it across his chest—only it was not his own hands but hers that moved, her lips following in sleek wet circles.

His hand moved lower, her lips followed. His belly tightened as he felt her tongue swirl about his navel. He eased his hand lower, gripped himself tight. He held still for a moment, then eased soap all about the heavy shaft. He worked his way down, spreading the lather, back up—tighter, gripping harder.

His eyes drifted closed. Ruby was before him, her curls almost black with wet, her startling eyes hungry, her lips—oh God, those full lips.

He stroked faster, harder.

More. More. More.

Her tongue grazed his navel again, her teeth nipped.

He groaned, squeezed tight. He was not ready for it to be over.

Her lips moved lower, tugging the sparse hair that had never grown thick after he’d been shaved and tattooed.

Oh, she liked the dragon. Her lips paused, her tongue danced over scales and color, exciting the beast further.

His tail jerked, Derek’s cock thickening to impossible proportions.

He squeezed hard, again.

Not yet.

It was useless.

He hurried her down, imagined those lips closing about him, felt the hard pulse begin deep in his balls, felt it flow upward.

Faster. Harder. More.

He was deep in her throat, her eyes staring up at him.

The surge began.

It was inevitable.

A cold breeze brushed his backside, sending a long shiver through him.





Chapter Five


She’d never seen such a sight. Ruby could only stare. He was beautiful. She’d thought so the night before, but this, this was more than a woman could take. Moisture pooled between her thighs, her breath grew shallow, her nipples hardened even in the warm moist air.