by Marian Tee
He didn’t need to hear anything else, his fingers moving as hard and as fast as he could manage without causing the table to shake. Milady, he growled, and just saying it was enough to heighten his arousal.
She looked at him, wetting her lips, throat bobbing, and dammit, but the sight had him hurting, his balls tightening in the need to pour his cum into her.
M-milord. She cried it out in her mind, sounding confused, afraid, and dammit, there was so much need in her voice---
Need for him.
His ears picked up her heartbeat, and its pace told him she was so near---
He slid a third finger inside of her, wanting to stretch her to near fullness.
Her eyes began to dilate.
Look down, he hissed.
Realizing why, she quickly bowed her head again. She tried to keep still as his fingers went in and out – fucking her, he was fucking her with his fingers---
Oh God, she could feel her eyes rolling back as her body tightened in anticipation.
The marquis ground his fingers deep into her, his thumb pressing down hard on her clit.
Ilie. She screamed his name as she came, and the moment his name slipped past her lips, it was almost like she was already halfway to becoming his.
* * *
The marquis stepped out of the carriage to help her out personally, his grip on her hand gentle but possessive. When she was on her feet, he caressed her cheek, murmuring, “Do not forget your promise.”
She nodded.
He bent his head and she held her breath, wondering if he was actually going to kiss her here, in the streets, outside her very home.
His lips paused a hair’s breadth away from hers.
“I hear your curtains twitching, milady.”
What?
Her head snapped towards the house, and sure enough, she saw three pairs of eyes just before her family quickly shut the curtains and retreated from view.
When she looked back at the marquis, he had stepped away, a wry look in his eyes. “I must restrain myself.” He paused then said under his breath, “Help me here, ma lisse. Do not look at me so.” And almost as if he didn’t trust himself while she was within reach, he took another step back.
“I want to kiss you badly,” he said fiercely. “You don’t know how bad, milady, but I have a feeling if I do, you’ll hold me accountable once your head’s cleared properly.”
But her head was clear, she wanted to protest, and it was clearly telling her she wanted that kiss.
The marquis had a pained look on his face. “Five minutes from now, milady, you will thank me.” His voice became grim. “And you will owe me for this.” He bowed. “Until tomorrow, milady.”
She watched him go, the pieces of her heart all jumbled up at the sight of him leaving. When his carriage was completely gone from view, she turned around and opened the door. The euphoria started to fade as she stepped inside her home.
She began walking towards the drawing room, and five minutes later, she realized the marquis was indeed right.
Oh my God, what a harlot she had turned into, wanting him to kiss her so publicly!
Entering the parlor, she found her sisters and Charles waiting for her with expectant looks on their faces.
She said flatly, “No, I’m not officially his heartkeeper yet.”
Everyone burst into protest.
She raised her hand. “And I’m not going to be.”
“But why?” Aurora burst out. “He wants you, Soleil. He wouldn’t have gone around town chasing after you if he didn’t!”
“Is he a bad kisser?” Fleur blurted out. “Too…I don’t know…demonic?”
Everyone turned to look at her.
Fleur made a face. “Okay, okay, bad idea, my humblest apologies.”
Charles began, “But he’s a good fit---”
“Not you too, Papa,” Soleil cut him off with a shake of her head. “I’m not going to be his heartkeeper, end of story. Okay?”
“Okay.” Fleur answered for the rest of the family.
Soleil’s gaze narrowed. “Okay, but? There’s a but, isn’t there?”
“But,” Fleur echoed obediently, “---have you forgotten something?” She bit her lip. “Ilie Marcovici is the Marquis di Lunare. I don’t think he’s the type to take no for an answer if he really wants you to be his heartkeeper.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Soleil had just come down to enjoy breakfast the next day, and the first thing she saw was Ilie Marcovici seated on her father’s right. Her sisters were also there, seated opposite him, and the four of them were laughing and chatting like a happy family.
As if they didn’t know Ilie Marcovici was not human, she thought ungraciously.
Ilie was the first one to notice her, and he stood up immediately. “Good morning, milady,” he said with a bow. “I came only to call, but your father has insisted I join your family for breakfast. I hope you don’t mind?”
Hovering by the doorway, Soleil debated between forgetting her manners and pleading a sudden migraine.
But the choice was out of her hands when Charles called out, “What are you standing there for, my dear?” His pleasant voice had a note of warning in it, reminding Soleil his absolute dislike of any display of ill manners in his household.
Soleil had a rebellious urge to stomp her feet---
About to throw a tantrum, milady? the marquis teased in her mind. This I have to see.
But instead she made her way to her father, practically gliding on her satin slippers in her effort to move with grace. Aurora and Fleur were gaping at her, as if asking Soleil if she had lost her mind and that was the reason she seemed to be dancing towards them.
Her face flamed, but she pretended not to notice her sisters’ surprise.
She bent to kiss Charles’ cheek. “Good morning, Papa.”
He beamed at her. “It’s wonderful to see you in such high spirits in the morning.”
She straightened, protesting, “Papa!”
“How surprising,” the marquis commented. “I would have thought Lady Soleil a morning person.”
Fleur wrinkled her nose. “Because she’s our fearsome leader? Yes, well, it’s the opposite.”
Aurora nodded. “She’s a bear to wake up in the mornings.”
Ilie pulled out the seat beside him, leaving her no choice but to take it. As she sat down, Ilie murmured wickedly, “Well, I will do my best to change that once we’re married.”
She looked at him in horror as he took his seat beside her. “What are you saying?” But no one seemed to hear her, with the sudden pandemonium in the dining hall. Charles was heartily shaking the marquis’ hand and clapping his hand on his back while Aurora and Fleur squealed like they were debutantes rather than the trained soldiers they were.
“I’m so thrilled for you,” Aurora told her.
She was about to protest that it was all a sham, a prank even, but then Aurora actually started sniffing back tears, and she slowly closed her mouth.
She glanced at her father, who had a serious look on his face as he insisted on giving the marquis a dowry. “I know your wealth is infinite compared to mine,” Charles was saying, “but it’s a matter of honor, you understand?” His voice became gruff. “I want the whole world to know how much my daughter means to me.”
Charles noticed her gaze on him. “I can’t wait to walk you down the aisle, dear.”
She could only smile weakly, thinking Fleur was wrong about the marquis not taking a no for an answer.
Today was proof that the marquis wasn’t even going to give her a chance to go against his wishes.
* * *
“You have been unusually quiet.” The marquis broke the silence between them as he claimed his seat next to her on the phaeton and took the reins. In moments, they were off, the marquis having volunteered to take her to ANEX, where she had an appointment with her former adviser.
And of course he had left her with no choice about that, too, she thought. He had ma
de the offer in her father’s presence, and naturally Charles gave his consent. If she had refused, she would have ended up embarrassing her father, and Ilie Marcovici knew very well that she wouldn’t ever do that.
“Is something wrong, ma lisse?”
Ha! She pursed her lips determinedly. Did he think sweet-talking her would make her biddable? Did he think she was as simple and easy as the other women?
Flicking the reins, the marquis said, “I had no chance to tell you this earlier, but you look exquisite today.”
She felt his gaze resting on her hair, which she had arranged in a loose, casual chignon. Unlike most ladies, she insisted on dressing her hair on her own, secretly finding the challenge a way to relieve her stress.
“I hope you always put your hair up.”
The comment was so unexpected that she couldn’t stop herself from asking, “Why?”
“So I’d have the pleasure of taking it down.”
Oh! Her cheeks burned with color at the intimacy of his tone. She should have seen that coming, curse it.
“Are you wearing a new dress?”
She shrugged, unwilling to admit that yes, the lavender satin gown she had on was indeed a new purchase.
“Thank you for wearing it for me.”
She gasped. “Stop reading my mind!”
He grinned. “I didn’t.”
Realizing she had fallen for his trap, Soleil gasped again and socked his arm as hard as she could. It only made him laugh, and the sound so incensed her, she raised her hand to slap him.
But he only caught her wrist the moment she swung her hand down, and still laughing, he let go of the reins---
Her eyes widened in shock even as her wrist burned at his touch. “Milord!” They were going to crash!
“Relax,” he murmured. “The horses are trained to slow down and stay on trails where they – and we – won’t be seen.”
And so they were, the horses actually slowing down the moment they sensed that no one was controlling them.
The marquis suddenly hauled her to his lap. She immediately struggled, but it was like going against a wall of unbending steel. “The more you wriggle, the more you arouse me, milady.”
She froze, realizing what the hardness under her meant.
His hands dug into her curls---
“No!”
But it was too late. The marquis was pulling out the pins and letting them scatter to the floor. Her curls tumbled down and he groaned in satisfaction. “Lovely,” he said hoarsely.
The way he was staring at her made Soleil swallow. Dear Lord, his hunger for her---
He threaded his fingers through her hair, and she lost the will to struggle, the pleasure of his touch making her feel like she was melting by the second. His mouth touched her hair, and she shivered. His mouth trailed down the side of her neck, nuzzling, and she couldn’t help arching in his arms.
“All night,” the marquis groaned, “I thought about this. About you.”
“Y-you’re exaggerating,” she gasped.
His head lifted up, and his eyes locked with hers. “Tis the truth, milady.” His fingers traced her lips as he murmured, “You know what I am. I can do away with sleep if I must, and last night, I didn’t want to sleep. I’d rather think of you---”
Her entire body shuddered at his revelation, embarrassment and pleasure warring inside her.
“In my mind, I kept replaying the image of how I made you come with my fingers---”
Oh!
“S-stop saying such things!” But his mind had connected with hers, and Dear God, she could see what he was seeing, imagining the entire night---
Wetness flooded her folds, and she automatically pressed her thighs together in an effort to stem the tide.
“And the entire night, I fucking regretted not having a taste of you---”
A throaty moan slipped out of her, and her head fell back as he nuzzled her neck, biting the tender skin before moving his mouth down her bosom.
The entire world disappeared in her need for him, and she could only moan as he shifted her in his lap until she was straddling him and his hardness was between her legs. She had read in her secret books about these moments, had read about what it would make her feel.
But still, none of it prepared her for the beauty of it---
The hot, wet, pulsating beauty of his hardness meeting her softness, of his engorged cock straining against his breeches as if it had the absolute need to pound itself into her.
His hands clasped her waist in a possessive grip. Her eyes flew to him just as he pulled her down hard, grinding her wet and aching mound on his satin-covered breeches.
She moaned long and hard. He started rubbing her up and down his cock, and she moaned again, the pleasure agonizing and unbearable in the sweetest possible way.
“Look at me, ma lisse,” he growled.
The growl was inhuman and powerful. It was pure wolf, and she should have found it terrifying but she didn’t. Instead, she thrilled to his command, and with another shudder, she lifted her eyes to him---
“You are mine.”
Her body went up in flames at the possessive claim, and she knew she was speaking to the wolf behind the marquis’ beautiful façade.
This was the real Ilie Marcovici.
“And you know this, don’t you, ma lisse? You can deny it with your words, but your body knows it.” His hands left her waist and moved up, past her rib cage, before stopping right under her breasts.
She shuddered anew. Oh, how close he was to touching her breasts, which were now swelling and aching like she was about to burst.
She watched his gaze trail down to her breasts, and she swallowed, his hungry eyes making her nipples pucker into life.
“These breasts can’t be seen by anyone else, ma lisse. Anyone who stares at them will have his eyes torn out, and you wouldn’t want to be the reason for people to go blind. Would you?” His silver eyes – the part of him that was always pure wolf – captured hers.
She shook her head. “N-no.”
“Good.” His satisfaction was primal. She wanted to think he was being barbaric, but her body felt differently, arousal making her want to cry out for his touch.
His gaze went back to her breasts, and she whimpered at the way his eyes devoured them. “Do you know what this kind of dress does to me? Do you?” He fingers grazed the undersides of her breasts, and oh, how that simple touch made her ache even harder.
“It makes me want to scoop my hands inside it---”
And then he was doing it, his large, powerful hands scooping into her gown until the silk inched down and her breasts filled his palms.
Aaaaaaaaah.
He began to knead her breasts, and her head fell back as pleasure rocked her body. He squeezed her breasts hard, and it squeezed a moan out of her. Then his fingers found her nipples, and nothing – oh, God, nothing – could have prepared her for how excruciatingly exquisite it was. He began to tug, and she began to pant.
He tugged harder, she panted harder.
He tugged faster, she panted faster.
And then his mouth replaced his fingers on one nipple---
“Ilie!” His name came out a sob, and her fingers instinctively found their way up to his hair. He started to suck, and she started to grip his head to her. He sucked hard, and she pushed her nipple deeper into his mouth, wanting it never to end.
“Ilie.” She sobbed his name again, hoping he understood what she could no longer put in words.
He moved to her other breast, sucking hard on her nipple, and she could only sob his name over and over.
“Ilie.”
She rocked against him, wanting more.
More.
More!
And as if he had heard her – she didn’t really know, she was no longer aware of which thoughts of hers made it to him – he suddenly had their positions switching, his inhuman speed allowing him to settle her on his seat in the blink of an eye.
He was kneeling in
front of her.
She gasped, “What are---”
He didn’t answer, only moving his hands under her skirts.
She forgot what she had to say.
His knees settled on her knees, and she whimpered.
His head disappeared under her skirts.
No, he couldn’t---
She felt him starting to push her legs apart.
Oh my God, what he was doing?
It was broad daylight!
“No!” She tried inching away from him. “My lord, no---”
But he now had her wide open.
“Ilie, oh God, no---”
There was a tearing sound, and she cried out in shock. “My lord!” He had torn her drawers open! She struggled harder, her breasts bouncing in her efforts.
Hold on, she heard him in his mind.
What? Why?
And then she heard him say out loud, “Run.”
The horses flew in a thunderous gallop at the command.
At the same time, she felt him move under her skirts, and the next moment, his fingers had parted her folds open and his tongue slipped inside of her.
She screamed and held on to her dear life.
I’m going to fuck you with my tongue until I taste your cum in my mouth.
She couldn’t answer him, could only focus on the ability to breathe while the marquis fucked her with his tongue. The carriage bounced hard with each thrust, making every wet, deep penetration feel rougher, and it was everything she had wanted to beg for and more.
Gripping the sides of the phaeton, she could only hold on as the carriage rolled down the road and the marquis devoured her with his mouth.
Her heart began to race, and she had a hard time catching her breath.
The pleasure began to mount.
Her hands tightened its grips.
The marquis’ mouth lifted.
She cried out in protest.
His fingers slipped inside of her just as he sucked on her clit.
Scream for me, ma lisse.
She came, and she screamed for him.
She came, her essence flowing out, and he lapped it all up, his tongue leaving her clit even as his fingers didn’t stop thrusting.
Her eyes drifted closed when his mouth finally left her. She felt him arranging her clothes, felt him placing her next to him, his arm curving around her shoulders as her head fell against his chest.