Empty Air and Solid Stone
Amon didn't return for the evening, and I tried to stamp down my disappointment. I'd never been downstairs for the evening in Rooksgrave yet, always occupied by my gentleman for the night, and I wondered what the festivities looked like. A polite dinner with drinking and some ingenue playing clumsily at the piano, like the dinner parties of the upper class? Or was it raucous and raunchy, public and indecent?
I snuck out of my bedroom when the lights in the hall dimmed and went to sit in the stairwell, listening to the voices below. Was that a moan I heard, or just a low plaintive note?
Footsteps shuffled on the rug behind me, and I stiffened, twisting in my seat and craning my neck to stare up at the vast shadow behind me.
"Hello, Booker," I said, sighing and relaxing against the wall.
There was no sound of effort or creak of bones as Booker joined me on the floor, just a cool sigh over the back of my neck and the firm press of his body offering a better surface to lean against.
"Have you ever been to one of the parties downstairs?" I asked.
"Two."
"Was it fun?"
Booker grunted noncommittally, and I smiled.
"Was anyone having sex?" I tried instead.
"Yes."
"Then it was fun." And now I was feeling rather left out. If it weren't for the remaining twinge from Amon's visit, I probably would've begged Booker to take me downstairs to join the fun. But if I was going to watch people have sex, I was almost definitely going to want to be having some of my own, and I didn't want to cause any trouble with any of the couples.
I missed Auguste. He would've joined me, teased me, and then toyed with me in front of the others.
"You're sad," Booker said.
I stilled and then looked up, smiling as I found Booker staring down at me, craned over the top of my head to examine my expression.
"I love it here, and yet I feel like I haven't found my footing yet," I admitted. Booker only stared back at me. I licked my bottom lip, and his eyes flicked there and then back again. He didn't have that same look of desire he'd worn during my bath, this one was more concerned.
There was another long moan echoing up the stairs, and I sighed and shivered, leaning into Booker's body, pretending that I wasn't about to turn around and rub myself against him.
"Esther?"
I jumped, twisting in place, a blush flooding my cheeks as I stared guiltily back at Magdalena in the middle of the hall behind me and Booker. And then I remembered I wasn't actually doing anything wrong.
"Just…listening," I said.
I expected Magdalena to tease me or chastise me as she usually might, but instead, she seemed not to hear me. Or at least to not pay attention. Her eyes were traveling the hall as if she was searching for someone.
Ezra? Had he snuck back in?
"Is everything all right, Madame?" I asked, trying to stamp down the hopeful note in my voice.
Magdalena was dressed in a beautiful evening gown, even if it was a few decades out of fashion, pooling around the floor at her feet. Over the dress, she wore an elaborate robe that still looked a little dusty over the shoulders. She seemed distracted, and I thought she might've only applied color to one cheek.
She hummed in her distraction. "Mmm, everything is…" Her eyes blinked, and her head whipped back to stare at Booker and I, more alert and a little startled. "Esther, what are you doing out here? Booker, I think it would be best if you escorted Esther back to her room."
I squeaked as Booker's hands wrapped around my waist, lifting me from the floor as if I were nothing more than a doll or a light piece of furniture. It reminded me of the way Mr. Tanner had used me. Booker wasn't quite as huge as the mysterious man who shared Dr. Underwood, but I had a feeling he was just as strong, and it gave me a dark thrill at the idea of being tossed around, my body managed easily onto his cock.
Focus, I reminded myself, cheeks hot again as Booker set me on my toes and began to march me toward Magdalena.
"Is it your wards?" I asked. Were they failing again? Had Ezra found his way back inside? If he had, would I let him coax me back into bed with him?
Or will he go and find another girl to charm?a hissed voice in my head wondered. Maybe I wasn't even the first, just the first to be caught.
"I…don't know," Magdalena murmured absently, and she drifted past us without another glance.
Booker barely let me walk on my own, although he wasn't rough. I let him carry me to my door, and we stopped together there. Inside, my fire was burning in the hearth, crackling pleasantly. There was no hint of Ezra's campfire scent that I could find in the air, and I cursed myself for holding out hope. It was just a bit of sex. I'd had plenty before and I'd have plenty more soon enough. It would be nice if I got to enjoy the man again, but there was no point sighing over him in the meantime.
Booker remained outside my door as I stepped inside, and I debated briefly on inviting him in. The company might be nice, but I doubted I'd be able to keep my hands off him, and I wasn't really up to another rough fucking so soon after my last.
"See you in the morning?" I asked, turning to face him.
His expression was stony, but he nodded, and when he bowed to me, he grazed cool, firm lips over my cheek. It was almost enough to change my mind, but he stepped back with a simple, "Goodnight, Esther," and shut the door between us.
I sighed and turned back to my room, fingers raising to the buttons of my dress to get ready for bed. The curtains of my room were mostly shut, the door to the rest of the suite closed, and the room was warm from the fire. My sheets would still smell like my time with Amon, and the thought of sleeping naked was appealing.
I slipped off my dress, fingers moving to the snaps of my corset, when the hairs on the back of my neck began to tingle and rise. A slow cascade of goosebumps rose on my skin, and my fingers slowed, the metal snaps parting with an audible click in the quiet of the room.
There was no reason to feel watched, but there was no denying the awareness of my skin either. I continued to undress, my lips parted and muscles tense, waiting for that first tease of fingertips or the clap of a hand over my mouth.
Was Ezra here? Would he make good on his promise of fucking me in my sleep? Taking me over the arm of a chair when I wasn't expecting it?
I bit my lip, prepared to stifle my own scream, as I set aside my corset and rushed to pull my slip off over my head, standing totally naked at the heart of the room. My skin was flushed from the fire, prickled and sensitive with awareness. My feet shuffled apart, exposing my sex to the air, and I held my breath.
No touch came. The only sounds were the crackle of the fire and the soft pant of my breath.
I walked slowly to the bed, but there was no indentation of a body in the sheets, and no warmth as I lay down on the mattress, legs spread in invitation.
I teased fingers over my breasts, my nipples puckering to little peaks, and then down between my legs, waiting. Waiting and hoping.
Finally, my body teased to a gentle simmer, I whispered to the room. "Ezra?"
There was no answer, and the exposure began to feel eerie, uncomfortable. I didn't feel alone, but I was beginning to realize Ezra wasn't in the room either, and the sense of safety evaporated. I sat up, snatching the covers from the foot of the bed and curling beneath them on my side, squeezing my eyes shut and wishing for sleep.
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