by Marian Tee
CHAPTER FOUR
The silence that descended on the cake shop following the marquis’ announcement was comical, and Soleil had the unforgivable urge to laugh. I am cursed, she thought miserably, with the oddest sense of humor.
“Is this true, milady?” Sir Reginald demanded, hurt confusion in his gaze.
Her heart immediately went out to him, and she started to protest, “Sir Reginald, please---”
“Keep it a secret,” the marquis finished in a lowered voice.
And of course, with that word, Soleil saw everyone’s ears practically perk up.
“Although I have already asked the baron for her hand and everything has been formalized, I would still like to give my beloved betrothed the kind of courtship she deserves.” The marquis’ voice was gentle, but the gleam in his silver gaze was mocking, daring the other man to take offense and challenge his word.
Sir Reginald was visibly fuming, and her unease grew. She turned to the marquis, but he only responded to her warning glare with a roguish smile.
Liquid heat ran through her body, and she looked away again. Arrogant boor. But the thought lacked heat, and the way her heart was racing so fast made it worse.
“May I have your word as a gentleman on this, sir?”
She took one look at the knight’s face and knew he hadn’t bought one word of it.
And if she let him speak, then they would end up dueling, and it would not be an even match at all. Sir Reginald might be the reigning champion in the city’s sporting hall, but he was still a man. A child even, compared to the likes of Ilie Marcovici.
Sir Reginald began, “You, milord---”
“---are telling the truth,” Soleil heard herself say, and she forced herself to meet Sir Reginald’s gaze. He looked crushed, and her conscience stung painfully. “I’m sorry, sir.” As she spoke, the marquis casually took hold of her hand.
For one moment, she froze, the scorching heat of the contact stunning her.
Ilie saw shock flare in his heartkeeper’s eyes and could not fault her. He was similarly stunned as well, only he was better at hiding it.
Merely holding her hand was an exquisite pleasure, and he could not help think of the other and equally pleasurable parts he could touch. He was suddenly impatient, and he looked at Soleil, his eyes boring through hers.
Get rid of him, or I will.
She jumped in her seat at the sudden sound of the marquis’ cold voice inside her head.
Oh, she had forgotten about this stupid blood bond between heartkeepers!
The command still ringing in her ears, Soleil had an inexplicable urge to defy the marquis, just to show him she wasn’t going to submit to him so easily.
But then she saw the marquis glance at Reginald, and this time he was no longer looking at the knight as a mortal to be tolerated. This time, the marquis was looking at the other man the way predators mercilessly viewed their prey---
An image flashed in her mind, sent by the marquis.
He was in his wolf form, and he was crushing the knight’s ribs under his paws before his viciously sharp canines tore the man’s throat---
The image vanished, and the marquis murmured, “Lady Soleil? You have something else to say?” He smiled at her, and she could almost imagine his fangs flashing.
I won’t warn you again, milady. His thumb rubbed across her knuckles, his touch possessive, tender, and hot.
It was also extremely distracting, and Soleil had a hard time finding the right words to say. Her attention kept straying to the way the marquis’ touch made her feel. A part of her was lost in a daze.
The Marquis di Lunare, the man fated to share her soul, was holding her hand.
“Milady?”
The hopeful look in Sir Reginald’s eyes sent her crashing back to earth, and Soleil swallowed. “Lord Ilie and I have an understanding, sir. I am so sorry if---”
“There is nothing to apologize for, milady.” His cheeks were flushed with a mixture of resentment and shame, and he was unable to meet her gaze. “I was the one who misunderstood.”
This was her fault, she thought, cringing. News of today’s incident was sure to spread like wildfire, and she wouldn’t be surprised if they were the talk of the town by tonight. The thought made her feel resentful herself, and Soleil unthinkingly tried yanking her hand away.
But the marquis’ grip only tightened, with just enough strength to remind her that she was fighting a futile battle.
Remember what I am, ma lisse. His voice was gentle, but possessiveness still threaded through it.
She ceased her struggle, not because he had reminded her of his otherworldly bloodlines, but because of what he had called her.
Ma lisse.
My lily.
He had called her ‘his lily.’
Again, the odd urge to laugh struck her. Did he remember what she was as well? Did he remember that she was, for all intents and purposes, a professional killer?
Yes, I remember, the marquis answered calmly.
Oh! He had read her mind. She had forgotten about that ability of his, curse it.
Sir Reginald was bidding her farewell now, and she mustered a smile.
“Will I see you at the Delsey’s ball tonight?”
Not if he’s there, the marquis said silkily.
“I’m not quite sure,” she said vaguely.
The other man’s smile dimmed, and it was only then that she realized he had seriously carried a torch for her. “Goodbye then,” Sir Reginald said, his normally strong clear voice turning into a mumble unworthy of his stature.
Oh, how dreadfully insensitive she was. Regret filled her as she watched him turn away and leave. She bit her lip hard, wondering if she had been too callous. Maybe she should just go to the Delsey’s ball, after all---
Over my dead body, ma lisse, the marquis said coolly. Out loud, he asked her politely, “May I join you, milady?” He released her hand to gesture at the chair across her.
She said reluctantly, “Of course,” all the while feeling perversely disappointed at the loss of contact between them. It had to be because he was an otherworlder and thus more seductive than human men, she told herself.
The marquis folded his powerful, elegant length in the dainty chair in front of her, and her resentment flared anew. It was so unfair. His sheer grace should have made him look like an overly fussy fop, but no – it just made him so much---
Then she noticed what he was casually flipping open.
She mentally screamed as loudly as she could, NO!
The marquis winced, his fingers freezing on the page he had just opened to. “What’s the big deal---” His eyes widened.
Soleil grabbed her dessert fork, fed herself a tiny slice of cake, and concentrated on chewing it slowly.
He closed the book and returned it to her, smothering a laugh when she practically snatched the book from his hands.
“Your taste in books is surprising, milady,” he murmured wickedly.
Her cheeks turned pink, but she pretended not to hear him and instead fed herself another tiny slice.
“I’m heartbroken, milady. Are you ignoring me?”
She didn’t look at him.
And that was her mistake.
He shifted in his seat, and a moment later she felt his hand settle on her knee.
Curses!
Her gaze flew to him in shock.
His hand was like a burning tattoo on her skin, making her body quiver, and her knee felt like it was about to turn into jelly any second under his touch.
“Stop it,” she hissed then stopped, realizing she might be heard. She said in her mind, Take your hand off my knee!
But this only made him squeeze her knee, and pleasure that felt both forbidden and painful coursed through her body.
“Please say you are no longer mad that I have let Sir Reginald in our little secret.”
She thought about ignoring him---
His hand on her knee lifted, only to be replaced by fingers
that somehow found a way under her skirt. His hand returned to her knee, and this time bare skin touched bare skin.
---and changed her mind.
“I forgive you, milord.”
His smile was dazzling and intimate at the same time. “That means the world to me, ma lisse.”
Oh!
There it was again, and this time he had used the endearment out loud!
Stop calling me that, she told him, recovering.
But it was the marquis’ turn to ignore her. Instead, he said in a low voice, “Your sister told me everything.”
Curse you, Fleur.
“Oh?” She worked hard to sound unaffected.
He squeezed her knee, murmuring, “She says you’ve known I was the one since you were fifteen.”
Double curse you, Fleur.
It took her a while to answer, Soleil not wanting to sound breathless as she asked, “Does it matter, milord?”
“Yes.”
She was stunned at the sudden tautness in his voice.
“How is it that you even knew about it before I did?”
She could appreciate why he was genuinely perplexed, and she asked him in her mind, Father has told you about me, hasn’t he?
How he came to bring you up, yes.
Apparently, my otherworlder parent has demon blood, and whatever I inherited from him – or her – sort of leapt in recognition when I saw you.
“I see.” He was grimly silent for a moment. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Her dimples flashed in a playful smile, but her eyes said something else as she said lightly, “You mean why didn’t I beg you, right? Why didn’t I throw myself at you? Because that’s the only way you’d have noticed me, do you not think…my one?”
The last words would have sounded sweet to anyone’s ears, but she and the marquis knew that it was her way of mocking him, of asking why a powerful half-demon like him hadn’t known she was near.
I’m sorry.
I’m sure you are.
Irritation flashed in the marquis’ eyes, and it was obvious he was not used to having women not falling over everything he said.
What more do you want?
Nothing, milord. It was pure agony, ignoring the way his hand on her knee made her feel, but she managed to as she continued, I wasn’t the one who looked for you---
Is this about pride, milady?
Not at all, she answered, but she knew she was lying. It was a bit about pride, and surely that was understandable?
He should have noticed her. She was his heartkeeper, curse it. So why hadn’t he? Why?
“I’m sorry.”
“Forgiven, milord.”
He told her in his mind, Liar.
She let her eyes go wide. Oh no, the big bad wolf’s found me out. Please don’t eat me---
His eyes blazed, and his nostrils flared.
Too late, she realized she had chosen the worst thing to say.
His mind connected with hers, and she saw what he was imagining.
Him pushing her legs wide apart as he sank to his knees.
And then he was eating her---
There.
She choked, her throat drying, and she quickly grabbed the glass of water, gulping it down---
Under the table, she felt his fingers crawl up.
She choked on her water. Milord!
But the fingers continued to move.
She slammed the glass down on the table before she could accidentally drop it, and the patrons near their table turned to her in surprise.
Curse it! Curse him!
She managed a weak smile. “I apologize.” But she couldn’t say anymore, his fingers finding the edge of her crotchless drawers.
Their eyes locked with each other, his silver eyes feral in its hunger while hers was pleading and confused.
Milord…please…
His jaw clenched.
I’m sorry, ma lisse.
But I have to.
You can’t be serious. Her tone was incredulous and hysterical, and she found herself gripping the edge of the round table. She needed something to hold on to, in case…things happened.
His fingers moved inside and grazed her inner thigh.
Her breath hitched. We’re in a cake shop, milord!
It’s okay. His voice was harsh, but when she looked at him, he looked entirely relaxed. And then he called for a waiter---
Are you crazy? Her manners completely failed Soleil now, she was so aghast at what he had just done. She was frozen in her seat as the waiter came to them, and all she could think about was the marquis’ fingers stroking her inner thigh, just inches away from the suddenly aching flesh between her legs.
The marquis ordered a cup of coffee for him and asked for today’s papers.
“Right away, sir,” the waiter said eagerly.
But he didn’t leave.
Dear Lord, why wasn’t he leaving?
“Yes?” The marquis raised a brow.
“May I just say, sir, you have been my idol since I was a schoolboy,” the waiter declared fervently. “I am terribly honored, terribly, milord, to serve you.” He bowed. “Terribly.”
Stop him from bowing, she cried out. He might see what you’re doing under the table!
The marquis’ lips suddenly compressed, as if repressing a smile.
I’m serious!
Ilie cleared his throat. “I am humbled by your, err, devotion. Thank you---”
“Henry, milord.”
“But your real name is?” Most employers required their employees to call themselves Henry, for expediency’s sake.
“Godfrey, milord.”
Ilie almost winced, and despite everything, Soleil had to fight back a smile, too. Godfrey. It had to be that name, which meant ‘peace of God.’ Someone named after God, devoted to a half-demon.
The irony, Soleil thought, and this time she failed at keeping the smile off her face.
Stop smiling, Ilie commanded her in his mind while out loud, he told the waiter, “Well, thank you…” He forced himself to say the boy’s name. “Godfrey.”
When the waiter left, Soleil started giggling, and though he knew she was laughing at him, he could not feel angry at all. To see her this happy, and over such a simple thing, was a revelation, and it made her a hundred times more beautiful.
Beautiful, he thought again, and hot.
Her laughter was a seductive melody that caressed his senses, and his hunger for her became fiercer and more demanding. There was no way she would be leaving this place, Ilie thought, without tasting pleasure in his hands.
“Milady,” he said softly. When she looked up, he told her, “Please start reading your book again.”
She looked at him suspiciously. “Why?”
Because you’ll need an excuse to hide your face when I do this---
His fingers touched the slit between her folds, which were slightly wet and swollen.
Oh my God! She scrambled to get the book and opened it---
He almost laughed but managed not to, murmuring, “Milady?” But he couldn’t resist stroking her as he spoke.
Soleil could not think at all. “Mm?” Those fingers of his were…were…indescribable in they way they made her feel. He was lining her folds, and she could feel herself getting wetter, practically drowning his fingers with her moisture.
“You’re reading your book upside down.”
Oh my God!
Cheeks burning in embarrassment, Soleil quickly turned it around, but at the same time she felt the marquis’ fingers move up, hovering over that tiny nub of flesh where she knew her feminine pleasure was centered.
Her eyes flew to him. You wouldn’t---
His thumb slowly rubbed her clit.
Oh, but he did.
She stared down unseeingly at the pages before her, all the while dying. She was dying of pleasure, of lack of oxygen, of desire. Oh, that wicked thumb of his was so good, rubbing her a bit faster and rougher now.
Her inhibi
tions were completely gone, and she couldn’t even remember why she had protested against this. It was oh so good, she just wanted more---
Anything you want, ma lisse. His dark drawl sent a shiver of pleasure down her spine.
But then she realized what he was saying and why---
Curse it, she had forgotten to guard her thoughts again!
His thumb still on her clit, his other fingers moved back to her slit.
“Milady?” His eyes captured hers. Be prepared not to scream.
What are you---
One finger slipped inside her.
She gritted her teeth and stared harder at the book as she worked hard to contain her scream. Oh my God, this feeling of having a part of him inside of her, claiming her, was so much more exquisite than what the books she had read made her believe.
And then his finger started to move, and she was left in a daze to find this even more pleasurable.
Milady?
Y-yes?
Just so you are aware…
W-what?
I’m fucking you with my finger.
Her teeth gnashed against each other again, the marquis’ dirty words making her want to writhe. Such words were not common in their society at all, but somehow, it was that very reason which made Soleil feel so wanton at hearing it addressed to her.
The marquis was fucking her with his finger.
She jerked in her seat involuntarily, and this caused a second finger to slip inside her.
The marquis was startled then concerned. He started to pull his fingers out, not wanting to stretch her too painfully, but then she did something entirely unpredictable.
Soleil’s hips moved forward slightly, and his fingers were again completely engulfed inside of her.
Ah. She wanted him. The knowledge made the marquis feel raw and uncontrolled as his desire for her sharpened and rose. His balls ached, his cock swelled into a painfully hard erection, and he was no longer able to stop his fingers from moving.
I’m going to make you come, ma lisse, he growled as he fucked her with his fingers.
Oh God---
And you’re going to scream my name when I do, milady. He pushed his fingers deep into her. Do you understand?
She gripped the book tightly, tears of agonizing pleasure stinging her eyes.
Answer me, milady! He pulled his fingers out and pushed them back in hard.
Almost rocking in her chair at the strength of his thrust, she cried out, Yes!