Page 67 of Her Creation

“They learned about her—my sister. And when they could not reach me, they beat her, tied her to a stake. Surrounded her, lit a fire, and watched her burn.”

“Oh, my God,” Victoria whispered, a shiver curled around her neck like a noose.

He nodded slowly, gaze fixed somewhere far away, as if replaying the memory in every cruel detail. “She was the only person in the world that mattered to me…until now. And after that, I gave up. When they pulled me from the snow and threw me in prison, I no longer struggled. I was sentenced to death.”

Victoria’s throat tightened as she recalled the state in which he had arrived at the castle. “It must have hurt,” she said softly. “Nearly every bone in your body was broken. I could tell they hung you on the wheel… They must have wanted to show the world that they had you.” She fought back a prickle in the back of her eyes. “Do you regret any of your decisions now?” she asked carefully, leaning slightly forward. “Would you do anything differently, knowing what you know?”

He exhaled, a slow, bitter breath that seemed to chill the air between them. “I would have let myself die sooner. Before…before they got to her.”

Victoria’s chest ached, the weight of his confession settling like a stone. “I am so sorry,” she murmured.

She wanted to wrap her arms around him. Kiss his cheek and tell him that things were different now. She wanted to touch his lips with hers, just once, so she would know the right texture and softness to imagine now that he was alive. But as her eyes pulled to the scar at his neck, she snapped herself out of it.

She couldn’t. He was a monster, created from grief and given life by taking others.

}

Victoria’s eyes opened from sleep to the familiar clanking of iron. She lifted her head from the sofa in front of the fire that was now only glowing embers. She’d been sleeping in the great room the last week, in case Innominatus changed his devoted tune and decided to escape. The soft, repeated clang of chains rose from the crack under the laboratory door. He was most likely pacing again. He seemed to do it all night.

Despite the complexities, the attraction and tension between the two of them was as potent as the electricity that had been held in the Leyden jars and sparked him to life. The moment she was in his presence, it sparked her body to life. She knew he felt it too; he didn’t hide his attraction to her or the way his eyes combed her body. He wore his want proudly, waiting for her word of approval. And the more time she spent with him, the harder it was to ignore her natural desires—needs.

She rolled to her back and closed her eyes again. What the devil was he doing down there anyway? She’d only given him boring old medical books to read.

As always, curiosity sank its teeth into Victoria, and she had to know what he was doing.

She left the warmth of the sofa and tiptoed to the laboratory doorway. He couldn’t see her. She’d been doing her very best to avoid him and the laboratory all together. It was just too much. Too much pain, too much love that she couldn’t have.

The door made a low groan as she cracked it open, and she stilled. The sound of the chains clanking stopped. She was about to step back out and close the door, but then the sound came again, faster. Careful to not open it any farther, she scraped her body through the open door and listened as she slowly crept down the stairs.

The sound was louder down in the laboratory as it came in rhythm with her beating heart. It grew faster with every careful step down until she could duck and look at the wall where he was chained.

Innominatus sat in the chair with his huge thighs spread out, his body glistening in sweat beneath the glow of a single candle. The muscles of his abdomen flexed as he pumped his fist over his hardened length, his other hand hanging at his side while his head lay back in ecstasy, making his Adam’s apple protrude slightly. The chain attached to his wrist cuff clanged against the stone floor with every pump of his hand.

“Victoria,” he moaned.

Her knees gave out, and then she was sitting on the step, tucked against the stone. She pressed herself into the shadows as best she could as she watched him. She should leave, quickly. But she couldn’t manage to take her eyes off the beautiful man as his naked body flexed and moved in pleasure. Her own breath had picked up, coming ragged and unsteady as she watched him.

Painful, greedy need nagged at her own body, demanding attention. She tightened her thighs and pulled her nightgown over her ankles, hoping to send her body a message.

He was beautiful. His body begged to be touched, and she found herself irritatingly jealous of him for getting to stroke the hard length she tingled and ached for. The throbbing between her legs grew maddening the longer she watched. It craved to tighten around him, to feel his long, slow thrusts filling her.

It was torture. Her own hips began making small thrusts that matched his. Trying not to pant, she could take no more and spread her thighs, lifting her gown and running her cool fingers over the hot flesh of her center. Her eyes flickered closed from the contact. Her pelvis continued to rock softly as she roughly rubbed her sensitive nub before inserting two fingers into her wetness and matching his thrusts, imagining his hard shaft was inside of her.

Her hips thrust harder as she thought about the feel of his soft tip deep, deep inside of her. A louder breath passed from her mouth and suddenly Innominatus’s hand stilled, wrapped around his cock.

Her heart hammered in her chest as she froze.

Suddenly his eyes locked onto hers. Heat blazed in his gaze and his lids drooped slightly as he pulled his full lower lip into his mouth.

He couldn’t see her. There was no way, as she was completely in the dark—except the way his eyes reflected, she was almost certain that he could see in the dark.

Which meant he could see everything as she sat with her nightdress lifted, thighs spread, touching herself.

His mouth opened in a sensually painful expression as he fisted his cock again, thrusting into his hand rougher than he had before. All with eyes that remained pinned on Victoria.

Drunk with lust, her own fingers began to move, rougher as she took in his expression.

A breathy moan spilled from her throat and his lids dropped closed as if that single sound had done him in. He grunted as he opened them again and watched her with starving eyes. Faster he thrust. Faster. Faster. Faster. Until the slap of skin sounded and he thrust so hard his hips lifted high off the chair.