For all that, he was human, too, as evidenced by the intriguing scars and small collections of freckles. A man of flesh. Her gaze touched upon the scar on his shoulder, given to him by Lord Whitney—a reminder of the tapestry of deceit that had been woven by Leo’s hands.

Something on his calf drew her attention. More markings of flame climbed up the thick muscles.

“Why two sets of markings?”

He glanced away, and she saw the hard beat of his pulse in his throat. “Those came later. The geminus offered me more power.”

Which he did not refuse, clearly. “When?”

“After I made the other investment for your father,” Leo said. “It knew I was wavering. Sought to bind me to the Devil with further temptation.”

That was not so long ago. After the riot at the theater, after both she and Leo had been endangered by the evil he and the other Hellraisers had unleashed. Yet he had given in to the Devil subsequent to all this.

She dragged her gaze back up to his face. He looked like a man ravaged, passion and yearning and regret in his eyes.

Her resolve held. Many questions remained unanswered: what he wanted from her, whether she might salvage the care she once felt for him. She would put them both to the test.

Urging him back, she pressed him down when the backs of his knees met the edge of the bed. He sat, then leaned back on his elbows when she pushed against his shoulders.

He lay like that, braced on elbows and forearms, feet upon the floor, staring up at her with eyes the color of storm clouds. His cock strained up toward his navel. His fingers gripped the coverlet. Only his ruthless resolve seemed to keep him from leaping on her, claiming her.

She bent over him, bracing her hands on the bed, and kissed him hungrily. He reached for her. She grabbed his wrists and lowered them to the bed. His fingers curled into the bedclothes. Giving in to her demands.

For all the deception, on an intrinsic level, they knew each other. And this caused her hurt to renew itself all over again, reminding her of what had been sacrificed.

She wanted to push him as far as she could.

Pressing her body to his, she rubbed her breasts against his chest. The fine material of her chemise provided little barrier. He was solid and hot beneath her. Sensation sparked outward from the taut points of her nipples, and against her belly she felt the thick, hard shape of his cock.

“Is this what you came for?” she challenged, breathless as she teased them both. “Why you chased after me? The softness of my body when the rest of your world is hard and cold?”

With a look of tortured pleasure, he clenched his teeth. “More than this. I searched for you because I wanted you, in any way I could have you.”

She took him in her hand. His response was a hiss, and an upward push of his hips. From crown to base, she stroked him, her grip tight. The silken feel of him in her hand made her shake with desire.

Abruptly, she released him and pushed back from the bed. He stared up at her, breath coming fast and hard.

“Is this your revenge?” he rasped. “To leave me wanting?”

“If it was, would you let me go?”

“It would destroy me.”

“Yet if I needed to leave, if it was the only way to ensure my happiness, would you?”

He swallowed hard. “Yes.”

Damn him. If he were a brute, unrepentant and selfish, this would be simpler, painless. Yet he wasn’t. He was Leo, and she loved him. After all this, she loved him still, and nothing hurt her more.

The choice to stay or go was hers. Yet she could not leave.

“If my happiness demands selfish gratification?” she pressed.

“I will give it to you.”

She climbed onto the bed, grazing her hands along his thighs. He was her supplicant now. She pushed him down, so that he lay back, his head upon the mattress. “And you’ll ask for nothing in return.”

“All I want is the chance to give you pleasure.”

With his gaze hot upon her, she braced her knees on either side of his head. Her quim was inches from his mouth.

She had never been so blatant in her demands. Her eyes challenged him as her body pulsated with need.

Prove yourself, she said to him wordlessly. Prove to me that all is not lost. His gaze holding hers, he gripped her thighs. Slowly, reverently, he brought her lower, until his lips pressed against her.

Anne swallowed a gasp, yet she could not keep silent when his tongue traced a glossy line from her opening to her pearl. He did this once more, and she cried out from the pleasure.

Though she wanted to let her eyes drift closed and float in sensation, she kept them open, watching Leo as he tasted her. With deep, lush kisses and licks, he feasted upon her, creating marvels of pleasure with his mouth. He drank from her as though she were the rarest and most precious delicacy, one he was determined to savor. And all the while, his gaze stayed on hers, burning bright.

Tremors shook Anne’s thighs as the climax built, then crashed over her. He persisted, sucking upon her. In this way, he was both worshipful and commanding, for he coaxed her to bliss over and over, and she could not stop him, did not want him to stop, needing only pleasure and more pleasure and not the labyrinth of questions and uncertainty that lay beyond pleasure’s ruby haze.

Shuddering with another release, Anne pulled away, feeling the echo of his fingers as he unclasped his iron hold on her thighs. He’d never looked fiercer with want, his eyes hot, his mouth slick with her.

“I would give you that,” he rasped. “Every day, every hour.”

“And what for you?”

“Whatever you will give me.”

She edged backward and removed her chemise. In that cool gray morning, she was as exposed as he, naked in every way. Yet she felt stronger than ever.

Her knees pressing into the bed, she straddled him. Though he thrummed with want, he stayed as he was, lying back, feet on the floor and hands clutching the coverlet until his knuckles were white.

“This isn’t a promise,” she whispered.

“I know.”

She steadied herself over him, her hands braced on his chest, the head of his cock at her opening. At the touch of her wetness, he gave an animal growl.

His eyes were heavy-lidded yet fiery as she held herself above him, savoring even this small contact. And then she could wait no longer, and sank down onto him. She moaned at the sensation, thick inches of him sliding into her, filling her.

She paused for a moment, drinking in the feeling of him inside her. Looking down at him, she expected his eyes to be closed as he retreated into physical pleasure. But his eyes were open and fixed on her face. As if memorizing her.

Hot tears gathered in her own eyes. She wanted to be selfish and think only of herself, but the slick, sleek marvel of their joining, and the look of sorrowful rapture on his face, spoke otherwise. She had sought to test him, test herself, and now had her answer: their sex could never be merely two bodies pursuing mercenary pleasure. They needed balance, giving and taking.

“Anne,” he said, hoarse. He finally released his grip on the coverlet, his hand coming up to brush away her tears.

Using the back of her hand, she wiped her eyes, forcing the tears back. She did not know how much time she and Leo had left. She knew nothing at all. Only him. Only now.

She took his hand still cupping her cheek and moved it to her hip. Uncurled the fingers of his other hand and placed it on her other hip.

“Hold tight,” she whispered.

His eyes blazed.

She rose up, and lowered herself down. Hot sensation spread through her. She moved again. And again. Each rise and fall filled her with gleaming pleasure. Watching Leo beneath her, seeing the beat of his heart under the hard curves of his muscles, and the brightness of his gaze—she had never felt such a combination of ecstasy and suffering, and the darkness brought the pleasure into stark relief.

His hands gripped her tightly, his hips rising to meet hers with thick, potent thrusts. The tempo increased, flesh to flesh. She ground herself into him, shameless in her demands. Her tight, throbbing pearl rubbed against him, and he angled himself to reach her exactly as she needed.

Sounds came from her. Wild, unrestrained sounds. They mingled with his deep growls as their pace sped. And not once did their gazes part.

“Leo,” she moaned. “God.”

“Just like that,” he answered, panting.

She dug her fingers into his chest, leaving bright red marks. Release came like a hurricane, a storm of pleasure that wracked her every part, harrowing her with sensation. She did close her eyes then, tipping her head back as she lost herself to the climax.

The pulsations had barely dimmed when she felt herself gathered up and carried easily across the room. There was a crash and clatter as Leo shoved everything, including the food he had brought, off the table. He sat her on the table’s edge. At his wordless urging, she wrapped her legs around his hips, her hands clutching his shoulders, body already primed for more.

“I feared I would never feel this with you again,” he rasped. “That I had lost you forever.”

He gripped the table, gaining leverage, and thrust. Hard. She arched into him. He plunged into her again, and once more. The table shuddered from the force of his movements, just as she shuddered, yet she was caught in a maelstrom of pleasure from the fierce heat and power of him as he sank into her over and over. He was relentless, and she reveled in it. In him.

Another orgasm tore through her, harder than the first. She cried out. A moment later, he groaned, body stilling. Head bowed, he gasped against her neck, and his breath fanned over her skin.

They stayed like that, him still deep within her, their bodies fused.

“I love you, Anne.” His voice was deep, vibrating through her. “Even if the Devil drags me off to Hell, I will never stop loving you.”

She said nothing, only wrapped her arms around him and wished for answers that would not appear.


Leo woke with a start, and found Anne curled against him, his arms wrapped around her. She was soft and warm, deeply asleep. Darkness filled the room. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to soak up the feel of her, her supple pliancy and the silk of her flesh. It had been far too long since they had lain like this, completely at ease, unguarded—yet he knew it was an illusion shaped by fatigue. Though he had loved her body with a soul-draining intensity, she would not permit him this closeness were she not exhausted.

Pain, it seemed, had a limitless supply, for he felt it anew, cutting through him. He had always taken whatever he wanted, yet there seemed nothing he could do to make Anne his once more.

A soft tap sounded at the door. This had been what had awakened him moments earlier.

Naked, he eased out of bed, grabbing his primed pistol as he did so, and padded noiselessly to the door. Likely demons would not knock, nor common thieves, but he’d take no chances.

Whit’s voice came from the other side of the door. “Livia has returned.”

Leo opened the door a bare crack. “Is she in your room?”

“She appeared for only a moment. Doesn’t like populated places like inns. We’re to meet her by the river as soon as we can.”

Leo nodded, and closed the door. He turned to find Anne sitting up in bed, already pulling on her chemise. Though he was used to dressing in the dark, she was not, so he lit a candle. It guttered, until Anne gave it a pointed stare, and the flame steadied. More evidence of her strange new power.

In the pale yellow light of a single candle, they noiselessly dressed. The air in the little room felt filled with broken glass, each inhalation a study in pain. They were two strangers who had shared the deepest intimacy. He helped lace her into her gown, now stained and limp, and she thanked him with a small nod.

Dressed in his borrowed clothes, Leo put on his brace of pistols and slung his hunting musket onto his back. He had reloaded all of his weapons, ready for whatever might come. As Anne moved past him, he gently took hold of her arm.

She gazed up at him, stronger than he had ever seen her before, her hazel eyes clear.

“However long it takes,” he said quietly. “From this life to the next. I will find a way to regain your trust.”

“You have it,” she murmured. But she held him off with an upraised hand when he stepped closer. “I don’t know if it is enough. What we had ... is broken.”