Fantasyland 04 Broken Dove (58 page)

Her teeth worried her lip but she nodded.

“Loretta is to stay here and rest, Meeta is with her. They will return tomorrow and we’ll be away to Karsvall.”

She nodded again.

He held his hand to her. “Let us find you a cloak and be on our way.”

She took his hand without a word and followed him out. Most of the servants were awake, seeing to the rush of activity that ended the night. Thus they acquired a cloak easily.

However, Maddie swayed to a halt at his side when they hit the top of the steps outside the front door.

He looked into her pale face, understood her terror and bent instantly. He swung her into his arms and walked her down the steps as she held tightly to his shoulders, her cheek pressed against his.

She only let him go when he put her atop Anguish. He mounted behind her, leaned them both into the steed and kicked in his heels.

His men, Remi with the witch on the back of his horse, fell in around them.

The ride to the village was less than half the time it took when they rode to the castle in their sleigh. Once they reached the inn, Apollo escorted Maddie to her room, Gaston moving to stand sentry beside her door as he pulled her loosely in his arms just inside it.

“I will be back very shortly, poppy. I wish to check on the children.”

She looked up at him, her face still pale, her eyes strange, but she nodded.

He would deal with her fears very soon.

For now, he bent to touch his lips to hers and as he lifted his head, he shuffled her backwards deeper into the room and lowered his voice to say, “I wish to be present when you disrobe, dove. Do not change. Tonight you sleep naked pressed beside me.”

He watched with surprise and some confused disquiet as he thought he almost caught a wince before her expression cleared, she pressed into him and she whispered, “Okay, honey.”

He drew in breath, let it go, gave her a squeeze and released her to see his children.

They were asleep in their beds, Balthazar in Élan’s room, Quincy in Christophe’s.

He got nods from the men, returned them and made his way back to Maddie.

When he closed and locked her door, he found her again staring out the window. Her borrowed cloak was thrown over a chair. Her borrowed dress still on.

She’d fed the fire and lit a lamp by the bed.

But now, she stood unmoving, her eyes to the window.

“Close the drapes, dove,” he ordered gently and again watched her start and turn to him.

She nodded and did as ordered as he walked to the side of the bed closest to her and sat down.

“Come to me, Madeleine,” he said, his voice still gentle.

As he wished, she came to him and she did it close, stopping between his spread legs.

He lifted his hands and put them to her hips, his head tipped back to keep hold of her eyes.

“Are you sore from your endeavors tonight, my poppy?” he asked.

“I don’t feel anything,” she answered.

He didn’t relish the way she said that, her voice strangely without emotion. However, he suspected after all that had befell her that eve, it would take much to process it, including time.

But he would be there to help her do it.

“You’ll feel it on the morrow,” he murmured.

“Probably,” she murmured back, her eyes drifting.

“You’re safe, Maddie,” he assured her.

She drew in a breath and nodded to the headboard.

“Madeleine,” he called and she looked back to him. “I wish to ask something of you.”

Her eyes held his in a way he found strange, moving, yet troubling, even as she lifted her hand and cupped his jaw.

Once she’d touched him, she whispered, “I’d do anything for you, Apollo.”

Her words, the way she said them, now full of emotion, the way she touched him, gentle and light, he felt his gut tighten.

Perhaps she wasn’t processing what happened that evening.

Perhaps she was processing something else entirely.

His gut tightened further.

“Give me your foot,” he directed, his voice suddenly gruff.

She tipped her head to the side, but dropped her hand and lifted her foot.

He slid her borrowed slipper off.

“The other,” he said once he’d dropped it to the floor.

Her eyes on him, she did as bid.

He slid that one off as well.

“Now remove your dress, poppy.”

She pressed her lips together but her hands did not delay in moving to the fabric, bunching it in her fingers and pulling it up and off.

She let the dress glide from her fingers to the floor and stood before him wearing nothing but an emerald green satin bustier that dipped low at the back, her breasts barely contained in the cups at the front, and it had bronze ribbons adorning its boning. She also wore a pair of matching satin panties.

He felt his cock pulse as his gaze moved over her. Her soft skin. Her curves. Her abundant hair glimmering in the firelight. Her beautiful eyes directed at him.

There she was.

His Maddie.

Alive.

Breathing.

Beautiful.

His.

His voice was now gruff for more than one reason when he instructed, “Discard your panties, Madeleine, then free me and climb in my lap.”

He watched her lids lower, her lips part and he felt both in his throat, his gut and his shaft. Then she slid her thumbs into her panties and tugged them down.

His cock started aching.

She bent to him and he felt her fingers working at the buttons of his trousers.

At that, his shaft throbbed.

She pulled him free and caught his eyes as she positioned; first one knee in the bed, then the other, climbing on.

“Guide me inside,” he whispered.

She licked her lips and he felt her reach between them, her hand wrapping around him. He stifled the rumble rolling up his chest as she slid the tip of him through her wet silkiness until he caught at her opening.

Gazing at him, slowly, she glided down until he filled her.

Apollo wrapped his arms around her, head tipped back to keep her gaze, his voice nearly hoarse when he kept whispering. “This is us, my dove.”

“It is, Lo,” she whispered back, her sex pulsating around his shaft.

“You’re safe,” he repeated.

“Yes.” She was still whispering.

“You’re mine,” he declared, his voice now almost guttural.

She closed her eyes, dropped her head so her forehead was resting on his and lifted both hands to wrap them around either side of his neck.

“Yes,” she said quietly.

“Look at me, poppy.”

Her eyes opened but she didn’t lift her head.

“I wish to lie back and watch you take me.”

Her forehead rolled on his as she nodded. “Anything, Apollo.”

Gently disengaging from her hold, he lay back.

She kept his gaze as he did and once he was settled, his hands at her hips, she started moving.

Apollo watched.

And felt.

And listened.

And as he did, he memorized it all. Every wet, sleek inch of her he could feel gliding on his cock, her thighs pressed to his hips, her hair tumbling over her shoulders, her breasts moving against the satin, her gaze on him heating with each stroke, her soft gasps each time she filled herself with him.

“Faster, dove,” he encouraged.

“Yes,” she breathed, moving faster on him as he watched.

And he watched as she raised her arms, her hands moving behind her neck, lifting up her hair as if its touch, the sway of it against her skin was too much.

His Madeleine.

Sheer beauty.

“Keep your hair up, Maddie,” he groaned.

“Yes, baby,” she whimpered, moving faster, her soft gasps coming quicker, deeper. “Lo, I need your thumb,” she begged and he immediately gave it to her.

When he pressed in and rolled, he watched her back arch.

“God,” she moaned.

“Take me, Maddie,” he ordered, now bucking his hips, watching her take him, her breasts nearly spilling out of the satin.

She dropped her arms to arch back further, riding him now as
he
took
her,
her fingers curling around his thighs.

“That’s it, poppy,” he rumbled, his one hand holding her steady, his other thumb circling deeper. “Take me.”

“Lo.”

He bucked harder.

“God! Lo!” she exclaimed, her sex convulsing around his shaft with her climax, her cries short and low but sharp.

“Keep taking me,” he grunted, driving his hips up into her beautiful bucking body.

“Yes, Lo, yes. Forever, baby. I’ll take you forever,” she gasped, still climaxing, and he exploded.

He pressed his head into the mattress. The muscles of his neck straining, he moved his thumb so that he could clamp both his hands on her hips to hold her tight to his cock. Thus, he shot his seed inside her on a grunt followed by a low rumbling groan that shook through him. And, at her whimper, he knew it shook through her.

He was barely recovered before he ordered brusquely. “Come here.”

Instantly, she dropped forward, her weight landing on him, her hot, wet sex still enveloping him. When she got close, she shoved her face in his neck.

Apollo wrapped his arms around her and turned his head so he had her ear.

“This is us. That was us. We’re here my poppy. We’re alive. We’re together, my dove.”

He felt her body still on his for a brief moment before she pressed it into his, pushing her face deeper into his neck.

“They will not take you from me,” he vowed and she slid her hand up his chest to curl her fingers around his neck and held on tight.

He memorized that too, everything, burning all that was Madeleine at that moment into his brain before he slowly sat up, taking her with him, reveling in the noise that was part surprise, part pleasure that glided up her throat.

He found his feet, holding her to him. She wrapped her legs around him and he moved through the room. He stopped by the pitcher of water left for them. He lifted her gently, sliding her off his cock and setting her on her feet. Holding her in his arm, carefully, he cleaned her as she leaned against him.

“Stay close, dove,” he murmured as he let her go.

She did as asked and he disrobed, dropping his boots and clothes to the floor where they stood. He then moved his attention to her, unhooking the stays at her back and dropping her bustier to the floor.

Apollo then lifted her and carried her to the bed. Bending low, he threw back the covers, still holding her close. He placed her in the bed, joining her there the minute her back hit the mattress, covering her. He pulled the bedclothes over them and shifted his weight into a forearm.

He then looked down at her to see her gazing up at him. Her eyes warm and sleepy.

And trusting.

His chest warmed as he lifted a hand and brushed a lock of hair from her face.

“I will ask one thing more of you before I let you sleep,” he whispered.

She slid her arms around him as she replied, “Anything, Lo.”

“I wish you to listen to me.”

She nodded, her head moving on the pillow, her eyes never leaving his. “Of course, honey.”

He cupped her cheek and dipped his face close before he began, “At first, we missed it.”

He watched her blink in confusion but he went on.

“The time she carried Élan, like with Christophe, was uneventful.”

When understanding dawned, Apollo felt Maddie’s body tighten under his but he continued.

“The birth, however, was complicated. Christophe slid easily into this world. Élan gave Ilsa more difficulty.”

“Apollo—” she whispered and he pressed the pads of his finger in.

“Listen,” he whispered back.

She closed her mouth and nodded again.

“Looking back, due to the birth, we both missed it. Even she, a physician. We thought her body was taking its time recovering from bringing Élan into this world. The extreme fatigue. The constant lethargy. Though, even if we caught it, there was nothing to be done.”

“All right,” Maddie whispered when he didn’t go on.

“And then it happened fast,” he told her softly. “She just started wasting away.”

She closed her eyes.

Apollo slid his hand to her neck and she opened them again.

“We disagreed about Christophe, Ilsa and I,” he shared. “She thought like a physician, sometimes clinically. Thus, she felt that life was life and, even for children, it was not wise to shelter them from it too much. He was only four. So very young. I did not want him to see his mother that way. To remember her that way. She was energetic. Lively, in her way. Not like Élan, the way she had was all Ilsa’s. I didn’t want him to see her thin, gaunt, in pain. I didn’t want him to remember her that way. She wished to see her son, but I denied her. I did this for Christophe. I struggle still if I made the right decision.”