The Seeker's Revenge Page 3

  “I take it you’re not going to do this out of the goodness of your heart?” Peter asked flatly.

  “Goodness? Heart? What do you take me for, dwarf?” Rumple asked, setting down his own tea and fiddling with the silver cufflink on his black silk shirt. “Just because I have an intimate relationship with your friend does not mean you have any right to take advantage of that. I have not changed who I am simply because I find myself in love with Alice.”

  “Love?” The word came out of Peter’s mouth almost like a gasp, a shock that hit his system unexpectedly. “You love her?”

  Rumple blinked before shifting his gaze over to me. We locked eyes for a moment; I hoped he could glean the support I had for him, the encouragement I was bestowing upon him, even if it wasn’t out loud. I tucked my chin slightly, giving him a subtle nod. He could say whatever he wanted. He could keep whatever he wanted. The choice was up to him, and I was here to have his back no matter what.

  “Of course, I love her,” he said, replying to Peter, though his eyes were still fixed on me. “I’ve told her as much many times before. It is no secret I wish to keep and, in fact, has been used against me already.”

  At this, I wrinkled my brow. “What?” I asked.

  Rumple waved a dismissive hand. This time, he did turn back to Peter, but I felt it had more to do with hiding his truth on his face than because he actually wanted to give Peter the attention.

  “I do not care whether you doubt me or not,” he said. “Because you are Alice’s friend, I extend myself to you but only through her. This information you want comes from you, from a need to know the truth about what happened to your mother. I can find that information out for you. Of course, I can. But my work will come with a price.”

  Peter sneered, gripping the arms of the chair so tightly his knuckles pinched white. “And what price is that?” he ground out.

  “I’m not sure yet,” he said. “If I were to do anything for you, you would have to promise something of my choosing at a future date of my choosing.”

  Peter scoffed. Even I had to admit that that wasn’t something that sounded truly fair. What if Rumple asked Peter for his first-born child? Granted, Peter insisted he never wanted children, but who knew what could happen? I had magic somehow. Anything was possible at this point.

  “That sounds like a death warrant,” he said snidely, shaking his head. Golden broken tendrils of hair fell in his face. He was so focused on Rumple that he didn’t even brush them away. “There’s no way I would risk that.”

  “You can trust him, Peter.”

  I had no idea what compelled me to speak in the first place. It wasn’t like Peter asked or wanted my opinion. But I also knew how important this information was to him. I could see he wanted so badly to have some kind of olive branch thrown at him, something he could believe in. I also knew asking him to believe in Rumple was a lot. Maybe it was too much. But I wasn’t going to let him give up so easily.

  Both Rumple and Peter looked at me, both with similar looks of intrigue and confusion on their faces.

  “He can get you the information,” I went on. My mouth had gone dry at some point, probably because of the directness of the attention from the two of them, but I pushed through it. “He will. And he won’t take advantage of you even if you don’t know what he wants from you in return.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Peter furrowed his brow, looking at me as though he hadn’t seen me before, that this Alice was someone he didn’t know, didn’t recognize. “Are you actually defending what he’s done?”

  “What I’ve done?” Rumple glanced at me before looking at Peter. “And what do you think I’ve done, dwarf? Tell me, is it my fault people utter my name for the explicit reasoning of entering into a bargain with me? Is it my fault that my reputation precedes me, and people still call out to me?”

  “You take advantage of the disadvantaged,” Peter pointed out. Each word shook with anger, and I tensed, worried this was going to get out of hand. I didn’t want that to happen, not between Rumple and Peter. Peter took me in when no one else would. He was the person I cared for greatly, and I wouldn’t be okay if the two most important men in my life - save for my father - didn’t get along. Worse if they hated each other. “People need whatever they ask of you.”

  “Oh, right, they need the fancy new sports car or the suped up man cave in the basement,” Rumple said. “They need the breast lift or the ageless face. Tell me, do you think the majority of my clients are the disadvantaged? They aren’t. It’s the Royals that call on me, the Royals I engage in bargains with. Every now and then, a peasant will ask me something, but I never require more than they can give. They may not like what I do, but I never ask for more than they’re willing to give.”

  “I heard you took the virginity of a woman,” Peter said.

  “I did,” Rumple said, “but not as payment. That was her bargain. She did not want to be innocent any longer, and she called on me to take it from her in a way that would give her pleasure and satisfaction for her first time.”

  I clenched my jaw, trying not to feel the bitter, sharp jealousy that sprang up inside of me. Rumple glanced at me from the corner of his eyes, as though he could sense it as it spilled into me, but said nothing. I was glad he was clever enough to keep his mouth shut. I would have looked for any reason to lash out, and he would have given it to me if he said one word.

  “You know nothing, dwarf,” he said. “Odd, since you are quite brilliant. Shouldn’t you be constantly questioning the premise, though? Questioning what you hear, what people say? Should you not direct your concerns with me directly?”

  Peter leaned forward, every move stiff. He took hold of his tea, which I was certain was now cold, and sipped it slowly. “You did not kill my mother,” he stated, though his tone hinted that there was still a question in the words. He was still searching for something.

  “I did not kill your mother,” Rumple said. “And I will tell you who did - if you want to make a deal.”

  Peter looked my way, almost as though he was asking what I thought he should do. Instead of eagerly responding, I said nothing. There was nothing I could say that hadn’t already been said. I already defended Rumple. I already told Peter what I thought. I wasn’t going to beg him to believe me.

  “I want to know the truth,” Peter said finally. “About my mother. All of it. I want to know who she bargained with and why she died.”

  Rumple nodded once. “And I shall find that out for you, in exchange for something I want at a future date convenient to me and will name thusly.” He reached out his hand. “Do we have a deal?”

  Peter stared so long at Rumple’s outstretched hand that I didn’t think he was going to agree. However, he took me by surprise by setting down his cup, hopping off the chair, and taking Rumple’s hand in his.

  “Deal,” he said.

  4

  The second we were tucked away in the bedroom, Rumple drew me in his arms. For a moment, we did nothing but stand there in the middle of the room, the door tucked shut, simply holding one another.

  “What’s going to happen now?” I asked in a low voice, playing with a black, shiny button on his shirt. It was easier to look at than up at him, though I wasn’t sure why. Maybe because I finally had to face what happened last night and I wasn’t sure how he was going to handle it. He said he was in awe of me, that he wanted to make love to me to show me just how much he cared about me, but I still wasn’t sure I could believe that. I called on my magic in such a way where I felt wretched, like the unredeemable monster who brought nothing but pain and chaos. What right did I have to love, to be loved?

  Part of me wanted to be punished for what happened. I didn’t regret saving Belle. I could smell Geoffrey’s intentions with her. I knew what he was going to do. But that didn’t mean I had a right to inflict pain on the guy...did it? I didn’t know.

  “We’re going to go about our day like normal,” Rumple said. “I’m going to fuck you against your bedroom wal
l, and then we’re going to fall asleep together. And then, when tomorrow comes, we’ll take it one step at a time.”

  My heart skipped a beat at the prospect of Rumple taking me against the wall. Wouldn’t Peter hear? And how could we logistically make that work? Wouldn’t he have difficulty carrying me? Would I be too heavy for him to maintain his hold on me?

  “You’re thinking too much again, darling,” he said. He placed his hands on my shoulders so he could step back slightly but only to give him enough room to kiss my neck. “Tell me, what are you thinking about?” Another kiss went to the spot where my neck and my shoulder met. I tried to suppress a shiver but failed miserably.

  “I…” What had I been thinking about?

  Another kiss just under my throat, between my collarbone.

  “I think…”

  And then on the other side of my neck.

  “I don’t remember,” I admitted.

  “Maybe it’ll come back to you.” A kiss over my pulse. I wondered if he could sense how rapidly my heart was beating. Knowing him, probably. “Afterwards, of course. This time, I don’t intend for us to encounter any interruptions.” He pulled back only so he could catch my eyes with his. “Tell me, should I magic away your clothes so we can get to it, or should I begin to peel off your clothes one by one? I find that magic would make things happen quicker, but there’s something enticingly satisfying about putting in the work and stripping you down layer by layer.”

  I couldn’t even formulate a response. Rumple’s words caused a shiver to slide down my back. Honestly, he could do whatever he wanted and I would be putty in his hands, waiting for him to play with me in a way nobody had before. To move me, shape me, do whatever he wanted to me. And I would let him. I trusted him in a way I had never trusted anyone before.

  His hands slid to my shoulders inside my black leather jacket and slid it off of me. It crumpled into a heap by my feet. The noise was like a shock to my system, and suddenly, I realized that Rumple was in my room with Peter downstairs, still upset by everything he learned.

  “We need to be quiet,” I murmured. The last thing I wanted was to make Peter uncomfortable because of my enthusiasm.

  “No,” Rumple said firmly. “I need to hear you, darling. The sounds you make are like strokes of pleasure on sensitive skin. I will not have you quiet yourself.” He flicked his wrist towards the door. “There. No one can hear us, no matter how loud you get. Better?”

  There was something inherently dangerous about being in a room that took away my ability to scream. There was something about the entire situation that sent a thrill to my core and I pulled him roughly against me so I could kiss him once more. He could do anything he wanted, anything at all, and no one would know. He could hurt me, inflict pain as well as pleasure, and I would have to endure it knowing no one would help. And that sense of helplessness, that lack of control, caused heat to pool between my legs.

  His fingers immediately went to my hips, fingerprints brushing across my skin like I was a wine glass and his prints were all over me from picking me up and drinking me in. My skin flared every single time with every single touch. I craved him, more of him, as much as I could get.

  It wasn’t long before his hands slid underneath the hem of my shirt, teasing the more sensitive skin there, skin that rarely got touched, whether by the sun, the wind, or a random passerby bumping into me on the street. This was skin only Rumple could touch, and that meant something to him. It must mean something to me too because it was like each part of it had threads tied to my core, causing something to twist inside of it.

  My knees were already going weak and I was still fully clothed.

  How did he do that? I knew he was magic, but I didn’t think something like this was possible.

  His lips found my throat again as his fingers slimmed the indents of my ribcage. It was the way I imagined him playing a piano, his fingers going over the keys in long, languid strokes, each key pressed fully and succinctly. Once he reached the underside of my bra, his fingers trailed back down until they found my hips again. He clutched at them, pressing me into him so I could feel just how desperately he wanted me.

  I let out a low moan, knowing somehow that I had the power to do that to him, that his desire for me was something like magic too. I ran my fingers through his black locks, messing them up. I loved the way the locks felt through my fingers, loved the way his breathing hitched ever so slightly when I pulled on them just so.

  “Oh, Alice,” he murmured, pulling his head back so he could look at me. One hand released my hipbone to cup my cheek. His thumb began to caress my skin, surprisingly tender. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

  I was surprised by this moment of...of sweetness. I lunged for him, releasing the back of his head so I could clutch my teeth, crashing my mouth onto his and swallowing anything else he might have to say. Not because I was afraid of the words, not really, but because something formed in my chest, something tight and warm, on the brink of bursting right before his very eyes. And I wasn’t sure I was ready for that just yet. I wasn’t sure he was either.

  His tongue immediately slid into my open mouth, and it wasn’t long before he took back the dominance, I had claimed from him. His hands released me to rest on the wall behind me, one on either side of my head, trapping me.

  “You’re mine,” he said in a low voice.

  I swallowed, nodding. I was. In every sense of the word, every part of me I had to offer, belonged to him.

  “Say it,” he said. “I want to hear you say it.”

  “I’m yours,” I said, the words barely louder than the softest of whispers.

  His thumb came to trace my bottom lip, and I closed my eyes. By the time I opened them, my clothes were in a heap on the floor and I was standing before Rumple completely naked. His eyes feasted on me, shoulders hunched over, head tilted back as he took me in. Under normal circumstances, I would be slightly embarrassed by the blunt attention he was giving me. I’d be going over a list of flaws in my head I prayed he didn’t notice. But there was something empowering about the way he looked at me, about the way desire was so clear in those dark eyes.

  Warmth pooled between my thighs and I pressed my knees together in hopes to control myself, my need for him.

  His eyes were locked into mine as he slowly dropped to his knees. Hands gingerly touched the insides of my thighs, putting the slightest bit of pressure on them in order to push them apart. I sucked in a breath as he trailed butterfly kisses up a trail only he could see, leading straight to the apex of my thighs.

  His lips ghosted just above my core and I let out a muffled whimper, waiting, anticipating the moment when he finally, finally, touched me there. It was probably only minutes but it felt like forever, too long not to feel him there.

  And then, his tongue slid out of his mouth and licked the line of my slit.

  I nearly crumbled right there, but he held tightly to the back of my thighs, keeping them in place.

  He made a groan of approval - whether it was the paste of me or my reaction to his caresses, I didn’t know, but the sound set flame to the sparks deep inside of me. I gripped his locks of his hair and he began to lick back and forth. One hand pulled my lips apart to get better access, to put more pressure, on the nub of pleasure at the center of my core.

  I sucked in a breath. I never thought someone would want to do this. It felt too good for me to even be embarrassed by it.

  Jesus Christ.

  My hips twitched of their own volition.

  “That’s it, darling,” he murmured, his sensuous lips vibrating against my most sensitive flesh. “Ride my face. I want to feel your juices coat my skin like a mask.”

  I should have been shocked by his bluntness. If anything, it pulled me in even more.

  My hips moved on their own accord. It felt natural, moving against him. And he continued to move his tongue. He didn’t have to stop, to collect himself. He kept the rhythm steady, the pressure just enough to teeter me on th
e edge.

  My breathing quickened. My grip tightened. I pulled. My core buzzed.

  I was close.

  God, I was close.

  He slid his long index finger inside of me, curling it against my spongy center in that way that felt like he scraped my very soul, and I shattered. I convulsed around him, and thank Jesus, because he didn’t stop until I released my hold of his hair and tried to push him away. Everything inside of me was turned on, buzzing with the energy he had just given me.

  When he stood up, his face glistened with my moisture. I couldn’t help but reach behind him and pull him to me, kissing him with as much effort as I could muster. I wanted to taste myself on his face, wanted to show my senses that this, too, was real.

  By the time I pulled away, Rumple was as naked as I was, though I didn’t know where his clothes were.

  Not that I cared.

  The only thing that mattered was touching him, feeling his hard body. I ran my hands up and down his arms as they wrapped around me, felt the dip in his collarbone, the pectoral muscles that stretched as he picked me up. I leaned forward to touch his abdomen, the muscles that defined his long, lean torso. The buzzing that claimed my body like a blanket suddenly sparked with life, and I wanted him again. I wanted to feel him inside of me.

  “Tell me, darling,” Rumple whispered, pressing against me. I could feel his cock on my upper thigh, could feel the drop of precum as it tainted my skin. “You were jealous. When you heard what I had done to the woman, you were jealous.”

  I didn’t want to think about that. I snapped my eyes open, glaring into his face. “I don’t want -”

  “Tell me,” he commanded.

  I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of being right.

  “Stubborn,” he said, pressing into me even harder. God, I wanted him inside of me, not toying with me. “Tell me. Tell me you were jealous. I want to hear it from you.”