Jeweled (23 page)

Don’t do this,” she whispered.

“Do what? I won’t hurt you, Evangeline. Nothing in the world could ever make me do anything to hurt you.” The firelight lit half his face and left the other half in darkness. His breath was warm and sweet on her face, his calloused grip strong.

“I know,” she breathed out in a sigh.

“I’m glad.”

Gregorio’s lips skimmed her cheek and her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt. Her breathing hitched in her throat and her heart beat faster. Her body reacted, her sex growing warm and wet, her nipples going hard. She had strong feelings for Anatol and she wanted to be able to use them to push Gregorio away. Yet, there was a ragged emotional wound somewhere deep inside her that seemed to need what Gregorio was offering her.

His hands were rougher and stronger than Anatol’s, and his touch made her shudder with desire. He took her hands and pinned them above her head. Her wrists were so thin and his hands were so big, he only needed one to immobilize her.

“Do you want me?” His low voice rumbled through him as he limned her jawline with his mouth. “Tell me to stop, Evangeline. Tell me to stop and I will.”

She wished she could, but she yearned for his touch and for his kisses.

And so when he bunched her skirt up and slid his hand beneath the hem, she didn’t stop him. He found the edge of her panties and pushed them to fall at her ankles. “Step out of them,” he growled against her lips. “Spread your thighs. I want to touch you.”

She did as he asked and his broad hand was on her, finding her wet and swollen before his first touch. He caught her dampness on his fingers and spread it over her clit, slipping back and forth over it until her hips bucked and she moaned low.

He groaned, too, closing his eyes for a moment as though touching her gave him great pleasure. “Do you like that?” he asked her in a low, husky voice.

She sunk her teeth into her lower lip and nodded her head. “More.”

“More? Is this what you want?” He slid a finger deep inside her and thrust in and out. His fingers were large and when he used two within her, it made her gasp out loud. He fucked her with them, his hand pinning her wrists above her head and the action rocking her against the wall.

“Your cunt feels so sweet.” He nipped her lower lip and then licked the slight wound he’d made. Slanting his mouth over hers, he kissed her, sliding his tongue deep into her mouth. He found her clit and rubbed it back and forth, his thumb nestling in her curls to press and rotate.

Her orgasm burst over her as delicious as a ripe berry in her mouth. She moaned and he caught it against his tongue, swallowing the sounds of her pleasure as she climaxed against his hand.

He released her wrists and tore the bodice of her beautiful dress, the one he’d bought for her, her breasts spilling free, the buttons popping off and hitting the floor. His mouth covered one nipple and then the other, nipping lightly, sucking and licking. Her nipples were hard, bright red, and tingling when he was done.

Gregorio unbuttoned his pants, sliding them down to his waist. Then he bunched her skirts up again and, parting her thighs further, hooked one knee over his hip and thrust the head of his cock inside her.

Her fingers gripped his shoulders and she gasped against his mouth. He was bigger than Anatol and Anatol was already large. But she was wet, dripping from her climax, and it eased his way. Inch by thick inch, he slid root-deep inside her.

Grasping her hips to keep her steady, he began to thrust in long, deep, driving strokes that made her bump the wall behind her. Pleasure blossomed over her body, growing and growing until it exploded over her in a sweet, all-consuming wave.

He cupped her buttocks and, grunting, thrusting harder and faster, extending her climax until she wanted to scream. His cock jumped deep within her and he groaned her name. Then he held her to him, kissing the top of her head as they came down from their sexual peak.

Both breathing heavily and sweating, they clung to each other.

“Evangeline,” he breathed into the curve of her neck. His voice trembled with heavy emotion that she didn’t need her magick to sense. He’d been deeply affected by this encounter and little of it had to do with reaching orgasm. Joining with her in a physical way was only a metaphor for what he really wanted from her—to join with her in love.

Shock stole her ability to respond. She’d known deep down that she’d never hated this man as much as she pretended. Lusted after him a little, yes, ever since the day in the alley. But this? She’d never expected to have sex with him tonight in his study.

And love? What he wanted from her was impossible. Couldn’t he understand that?

Clinging to him, breathing heavily and sweating, she closed her eyes. Yet joining with him had been good. Almost as if it had calmed a part of her riotous soul, something she’d needed.

He cupped her face in his hands. Forcing her to look up at him, he searched her eyes. Seeing something there he liked, he relaxed, then leaned in and kissed her, his tongue easing deeply and tenderly between her lips to mate with hers, his cock inside her slowly going flaccid.

When he stepped away, he straightened her skirt and scooped her panties up from the floor.

She accepted them, staring down at the bit of silk in her hand. “I hardly know what to say, Gregorio.”

“Say it won’t be the last time I get to touch you.” There was a note of desperation in his voice. “Say that the next time I can put you in my bed and take you slow. Say I’ll be able to savor you. All night long, my body on yours.”

She shivered and looked away, then busied herself with her bodice. He’d snapped off two buttons. Licking her lips, she turned from him. “I should let you sleep.”

As she turned away, he caught her upper arm. She turned back to him and saw fear on his face. “Gregorio,” she breathed and went back to him. Going up on her tiptoes, she kissed him. “You are a special, complicated man. I would like to know you more.”

Then she backed away and left the room.

 

 

Anatol was in bed reading when she reached the bedroom. She’d hoped he’d be asleep. She wouldn’t keep her unexpected liaison with Gregorio a secret, but she wanted to ease him into it, not shock him.

And even she, herself, was shocked.

But maybe Anatol wouldn’t be. He had given her his permission, after all, to sleep with Gregorio before she’d even known she wanted to. That was Anatol. He saw into the truth of all things. It must be a heavy burden to bear, as heavy as the backlash of her own magick had been, she thought as she gazed at him. His long dark hair was unbound, falling over his shoulders. Sweet Joshui, he was beautiful.

He looked up at her from his book, gazes catching and holding for a moment, before she turned and began to get ready to bathe and then go to sleep. She cleared her throat, which seemed suddenly clogged with unnecessary guilt. “I expected to find you asleep.”

“Come here, Evangeline.” The sheets rustled and she heard him lay the book on the bedside table.

“I was going to take a bath and
then
come to bed.”

“Come here.” The words were laced with compulsion, a definite command. He already knew. He’d probably seen it all over her as soon as she’d walked into the room.

She hesitated a moment, then left her panties hanging over the edge of the drawer she’d pulled out. He watched her cross the room toward him, his keen eyes taking her in from head to foot. She reached the edge of the bed and looked down at him.

He slid his hand under her skirt and she flinched as his fingers traveled slowly up her inner thigh to her sex. He slid his fingers inside her and pulled them out wet. His eyes flicked to the bodice of her dress. “Buttons are missing. You and Gregorio were together.”

“I’m sorry.” The words came out in a sobbing rush. “I care for you, Anatol. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“You have no reason to feel sorry and you haven’t hurt me.” He paused. “Evangeline, I love you. I know that you need me. I can see that in you. I also know that I cannot claim you like something I bought in a store. You are trying to find your way in a brand-new world filled with feelings you’ve never experienced before. It would be wrong to tie your hands.” He paused, searching her eyes. “Do you think I feel threatened by Gregorio?”

“Another man would feel threatened. Another man would call me a whore.”

“But I’m me, not another man. I want you to know that I love you
no matter what
. Forever and always. I will be here for you until the day I die. Take off your dress and come to me. Now.”

She flinched at the command in his voice, but her fingers found the remaining buttons of her bodice anyway. Undoing them, she let the dress drop to the floor and the chill air of the room bit into her skin and made her nipples hard.

“Straddle me.”

“What—”

“Do it.”

She climbed onto the bed and straddled him over the covers.

From the bedside drawer, he brought out the cylinder he’d used on her before. “Your body is ripe for sexual experimentation. Ready. Willing. Hell, Evangeline, it’s exploding with eagerness for it. You’re twenty-five years old, I was the first person you’ve ever had
real
sex with, and you’ve been having sex since you were eighteen, at least.”

“Younger,” she whispered.

He smiled. “I know. Remember, I’ve known you your whole life. I’ve been aware of you for as long as I can remember. I knew the very first day you lost your virginity and who you lost it to. I grieved it wasn’t me.”

“You did?”

“Gregorio was the second person who has ever made you come. Your sex is still fresh from that orgasm. I’m going to make you come again. I like making you come. I like to watch you.”

He slid the cylinder inside her. It was thick and ridged and spread her until she moaned. He held the end of it as she positioned herself on it, slowly stroking her clit with the thumb of his opposite hand. “Tell me how he took you, Evangeline. I want to hear it. Tell me how he made you feel.”

“He—”

“No. Grab the headboard and ride the cylinder while you tell me.”

She gripped the headboard and moved her hips. The object rubbed deep inside her, hitting places that felt so good she wanted to purr. Anatol kept stroking her clit as she rode it and soon pleasure was once again filling her up.

“Tell me,” he commanded.

“He—oh, gods, it just happened.” She panted the words, building up a steady rhythm on the object inside her. “We were talking and then he was there, pushing me up against the wall. He—pinned me there, touched my—” She broke off on a long moan, her head whipping back.

“He touched your what? Tell me.”

“He stroked me between my thighs.”

“Go on.”

“He made me come with his fingers and the sound of his voice. He—he pinned my hands above my head so I couldn’t get away.”

“Did you want to get away?”

“No. I wanted him.”

His thumb pressed and rotated on her swollen clit, sending ripples of pleasure through her. “Did you like being restrained?” His voice sounded as thick and breathy as hers.

“It was exciting.”

“Why?”

Her teeth bit into her lower lip as she tried to examine the reason why she’d enjoyed it. “It took my responsibility away. It was as if I didn’t have a choice in the matter, though I truly did. The conflict was out of my mind and I could enjoy it.”

He hummed as though absorbing that. “Tell me about when he slid his cock inside this sweet, pretty cunt.”

She moaned, the cylinder thrusting deep inside her with every roll of her hips. Anatol was controlling her orgasm, trying to get her through her story before she came. The pressure of his thumb on her clit would increase and decrease, the pace quickened and slowed. He kept her on the edge of an orgasm in that masterful way that only he could manage. She would come when he wanted her to come and not a moment before.

She licked her lips. “He was impatient, nearly tore his pants trying to get his cock free. Then he pushed me roughly up against the wall, hooked my thigh over his hip, thrust inside me, and fucked me there. Hard. Fast. Quick. It was almost guilty.”

“Did you come again?”

“Yes, almost immediately. My orgasm was longer and harder with his cock inside me.”

He rubbed her clit with just enough friction, just the right pressure. “Come for me now, Evangeline.”

She did. Throwing her head back and arching her spine, her sex pulsed and rippled around the cylinder as she came. Anatol stroked her, riding her through it, lengthening it. It went on and on until she collapsed in a fatigued mess on the bed.

She lay, weak from the emotional turmoil of the night and her muscles limp from the climaxes she’d had. She felt the cylinder slip from her and a wet washcloth clean her up.

Anatol lay down beside her. “Sleep.”

She reached for him. “No, Anatol. I won’t be selfish that way. Come to me.”

He kissed each eyelid in turn. “
Sleep
. I love you, Evangeline, more than you will ever understand.”

 

 

“Good morning.”

Evangeline averted her gaze from Gregorio’s as soon as she walked into the dining room. Her heart hammered. She hadn’t expected to see him this morning at all. “Why aren’t you at the palace?” She poured herself a cup of coffee from the sideboard, took a piece of toast, and stood awkwardly.

Gregorio sat at the end of the table, a steaming cup of coffee in front of him and an oversized sheaf of papers at his elbow. “Please sit down, Evangeline. I won’t bite you.”

Yes, maybe not bite, per se . . .
She could still remember the feel of him between her thighs and the press of his mouth on hers. It was not an unpleasant recollection. She sank down into one of the chairs farthest from him.