by Marian Tee
“Normally, one has to coax a cock into arousal but as you can see…” The marquis’ tone above her turned dry. “There is no need as my manhood is always at full attention in your presence.”
His hand rested on the top of her head, and she gulped nervously.
“Reach for my cock, ma lisse, and slowly draw it inside your mouth while…yes,” Ilie hissed as his heartkeeper did exactly what he asked. It was pure bliss, heaven on earth, the most fucking beautiful moment in his life to have his cock in Soleil’s mouth.
“Suck slowly then try to get a few more inches in…”
His body stiffened as she did everything right. Inch after inch, his cock eventually disappeared into her mouth, and he bit back a groan as she continued to suck him.
A natural born expert, he thought vaguely. What the hell had he done in his misbegotten life that he deserved a woman like Soleil?
When the pleasure became too much, he said tightly, “Faster.” As her mouth bobbed up and down more quickly, he said, “Stroke my balls…ah.” His body jerked, but her lips only tightened around his cock.
Soleil fell back on the floor when the marquis suddenly pulled his cock out of her mouth and she couldn’t stop staring, fascinated, when he finished the job, jerking himself off and then coming in a hanky that appeared from nowhere.
When it was done, he cleaned himself up and helped her right her dress. She turned towards him, and he surprised her with the sweetest of kisses, his lips landing in the corner of her mouth.
“Thank you, ma lisse.”
His voice was beautifully rough, and her toes curled at the sound.
She almost, almost started to think that she might just be okay with falling for him---
All of a sudden, Soleil remembered the soul seer’s warning.
Don’t fall.
Don’t fall.
Don’t fall.
She frowned. No. It was impossible that this could be what the girl was talking about.
Her phone buzzed against her leg, interrupting her thoughts, and she mumbled, “E-excuse me.”
Ilie raised a brow when his heartkeeper turned around and started lifting her skirt.
Up, up, up---
Ah.
His lips twitched when he realized where she had her mobile phone hidden. He watched her read her message. “Work?” he asked when she returned her phone to its hiding place.
She nodded. “But nothing that would keep me from bed.” She yawned right after.
Ilie frowned. “You’re still tired from last night, aren’t you?” He picked her up in his arms.
The next thing she knew, they were standing in front of his carriage and he was already placing her on the seat.
“Ilie!” Didn’t he know how dangerous it was to risk having anyone see that he was so much faster than ordinary humans?
“Relax, milady. We are in Lunare, and humans permitted here are those who already know what we are.”
The carriage door closed, and as it sped off down the road, he placed her on his lap and pushed her head towards his chest. “Sleep.”
“I’m not sleepy.” But she closed her eyes anyway because it was easier to pretend in the dark.
The words making up Crystal’s text message spelled itself out in her mind.
There is no time to waste. Your curse will strike tomorrow midnight. You must allow for the heartkeeping to take place or you won’t have any heart to keep even for yourself.
When they reached home, the marquis told her ruefully, “I would like to kiss you goodnight, but…I hear your curtains twitching again.”
She smiled up at him. “Let them twitch for all I care.” And so she rose to her toes and surprised the marquis by pressing her lips to his. When she drew back, the marquis was staring at her.
“Why did you do that?”
“Did you not like it?”
“You know I damn well did.”
“Milord!” She pretended to be offended. “Your words.” She stepped back. “And now, I really must go---” She was about to turn when the marquis took hold of her hand and spun her back to face him.
“Your father asked me if I would like to accompany you tomorrow to a human ball. If this is alright with you, I would like to use the opportunity to formally announce our betrothal.” His jaw hardened. “Do you have any objections to this?”
Slowly, she shook her head. “I’m terrified, but…” She inhaled shakily. “No. I have no objection.”
“Thank fuck.” Ilie released the breath he hadn’t even noticed he was holding until that moment.
“Milord.”
“Forgive me.” He lifted her hand to his lips. When he released her, he asked one last time, “You are sure about this?”
Thinking he was too intuitive for his own good, she lied, “It is only an announcement of our engagement, milord. It is not equivalent to agreeing to be your heartkeeper.” Flushing, she also added, “It is also to prevent any scandal from being attached to my name, in the event that people find out I’ve allowed you certain…liberties---”
He laughed. “And for a moment there, I actually thought you were becoming biddable.”
“Heaven forbid.”
“Also, liberties, you say?” He tweaked her nose, surprising her. “I know you can do better than that, milady, considering those books you secretly love to read----”
Oh!
Picking up her skirts, she whirled away from him, saying in a huff, “Good night, milord.”
But again, he stopped her from leaving.
“Milady.”
He pulled her towards him without turning her around, her back against his chest.
She had the craziest urge to cry.
“W-what is it?”
“Nothing is truly wrong?”
She bit her lip hard. Nothing. She whispered it in her mind because if she spoke, she knew she would not be able to stop herself from crying.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The ball, held by the Earl and Countess of March, was heralded a wild success, one of those events that would be talked about probably until the next Season and the one following. It was not because they had served the best food or prepared the best entertainment. Rather, it was for the simple reason that the ball was the only party that the esteemed Marquis of Lunare had chosen to attend.
Every unmarried female in the ball had their adoring gazes glued to him while their matchmaking mamas schemed of ways to lure him into a marriage trap. But first they had to get him alone, and that did not seem possible at all, with the marquis seemingly disinclined to leave the Orphelines’ side.
Granted, they were of a good family, and the eldest daughter, Soleil, was a diamond of the first water but, it must also be said, the matrons privately ranted, that Charles was a mere baron. Surely the marquis would wish for someone with bluer blood or perhaps a greater fortune?
And so they continued to vent their frustrations, but none of them were able to find the courage to approach the marquis. He looked too cold, too aloof, too…noble. It would be horrible, so very horrible, if the marquis gave any of them the cut direct!
“Good evening again, milord,” Fleur greeted the marquis as she took the vacant seat next to him.
“Good evening, milady.”
Following his gaze, she saw that the marquis was scowling at the way her eldest sister held court at the opposite side of the ball. It was a familiar sight for her, but she was guessing it was the marquis’ first time to witness just how many faithful swains Soleil held entranced.
“Jealous?” she asked mischievously.
The marquis turned to her. “You do know who you are talking to, yes?” An elegant brow lifted.
“My sister’s overly possessive betrothed?” she guessed.
Ilie ignored that. “Tell me. Have you noticed anything strange about her?” Something about Soleil had been bugging the hell out of him, but he couldn’t pinpoint what it was exactly.
Frowning, Fleur considered the question seriously, know
ing that the marquis wasn’t the type to idly ask questions. “Well, she has become nicer than usual.”
Yes, that was it, he realized. Soleil had been nicer, but only someone like Fleur, who had known his heartkeeper her entire life, would have recognized it right away.
If only, he thought, he had known of her ten years ago.
But he had not, and he would not have those ten years back, no matter what he did. That missing decade would have Ilie bitter and furious if not for the fact that he had at least the rest of eternity to look forward to with his heartkeeper.
“This morning I heard her tell Aurora,” Fleur was confiding, “that she could finally read those books.”
Ilie knew what that those books were, but even so, he was puzzled. “Why does Aurora not just read them if she wants to?” It wasn’t like Aurora wasn’t of age yet.
Fleur was looking at him like he was crazy. “Because Soleil told us not to, and we would not have survived this long if we didn’t follow her word.”
Ah.
“And you know, she’s also agreed to finally give me free rein with my allowance. I have nagged her endlessly about it, but she always told me I had too many frivolous wants to be trusted---” Pausing, Fleur gazed at him calculatingly. “Has anything different happened between the two of you last night? Something that could have made my already sweet sister turn insanely sweeter?”
He thought about Soleil with his cock in her mouth and coughed.
“Aha! I knew it! No doubt it has something to do with someone going down---”
Ilie choked. What the fuck? Could Soleil have told her baby sister that?
“---on bended knee,” Fleur finished triumphantly.
Ah. He cleared his throat in relief, realizing that Fleur didn’t know the truth after all. “That did not happen last night, but I had already let her know my intentions.”
“So you did go down---”
Wincing, he cut her off, saying, “No, I did not propose to her in such a manner.”
Fleur leaned back against her seat in disappointment. “How disgustingly pragmatic. I told you, right? She’s a hopeless romantic. No wonder she’s still against your suit.”
“She is not.”
“She is.”
“She gave me her approval,” he said stiffly, “about tonight’s formal announcement of our engagement.”
Fleur shrugged. “So? It doesn’t mean she said yes to being your heartkeeper.”
It was almost the exact same thing Soleil had said last night, he realized. These sisters were too much alike it was uncanny.
“Oh, my,” the younger girl suddenly exclaimed. “The way my sister’s looking at the gentleman she’s dancing with---”
He turned abruptly towards where he had last seen Soleil just in time to witness her placing one gloved hand over the baron’s arm.
Her father.
Beside her, Fleur said smugly, “I told you, milord. You’re jealous, and only people who are in love feel that way, don’t you think?”
* * *
Even in his advanced age, the baron was still a good dancer, and he expertly whirled his daughter across the floor.
“You are still too good,” she told him laughingly.
“Of course.”
She smiled up at him. “Papa, did I ever thank you?”
“For what?”
“For taking care of me, of us. For always being there---”
His gaze narrowing, he asked warily, “Is this your way of buttering me up before you ask me for something?”
She grinned. “That has never been my style, Papa, and you know it. Besides, we all know you’re all bark. You never deny us anything.” Stopping mid-dance, she tiptoed to kiss him on the cheek. “I love you, Papa.”
When she drew back, the marquis had appeared beside them, surprising both father and daughter.
You deliberately shocked me, she accused him.
His gaze laughed at hers before he turned to the baron, asking formally, “May I have the next dance with your daughter, milord?”
“Is this an omen?” the baron grumbled. “I’m beginning to dislike the idea of having to relinquish my daughter to you.” But his smile belied his words and he was already stepping back as he spoke.
For a long time, neither of them spoke, not out loud, not in their minds. They were simply content to dance, teasing each other with stolen gazes and secret smiles, seducing each other as they whirled and dipped about---
His fingers on her waist, her breasts against his chest---
“This is the most scandalous dance,” she couldn’t help telling him breathlessly. It was true, but even so, she wanted more.
He smiled rakishly down at her. “Just the first of many.”
Her heart squeezed at the words, and she pressed her breasts harder against his chest.
His eyes widened.
Her smile naughty, Soleil said, “So you would not always think you can guess my every move.”
The marquis grunted. “When did I ever think that? From the moment I knew of you, you never did anything you should.”
“But you know almost my every thought,” she grumbled back, “and it’s hateful.”
His rock-hard shoulders lifting in a careless shrug, he teased, “Do not blame me for your inability to hide your thoughts.”
Her dimples flashed. “Such arrogance.” And he was, too arrogant. Because she wasn’t as bad as he thought.
They danced a second time, and it was wonderful. They danced a third time, and by then it was official, their engagement good as announced. Such was the way things were in their world.
When the music ended, Ilie cupped her face and lowering his head, he kissed her in front of everyone. Her toes curled, and even though she was very much aware of how scandalous they were being, she couldn’t help kissing him back.
When he raised his head, both of them heard the audible sigh that went through the crowd.
They grinned at each other.
“Was that romantic enough for you, milady?” he teased.
She scowled. “Fleur told you about that, didn’t she?”
Instead of answering, he told her, “You enchant me.”
Ah. He really did have the most amazing way with words. Swallowing, she managed to ask in a lighthearted voice, “Enchanting enough to fall in love with me?”
His lips twitched. “You won’t get those words that easily from me, milady.”
Ah.
Her heart started to break.
But she told herself it was not his fault – or hers.
It was just the way things were meant to be.
When she excused herself to go to the powder room, the marquis automatically offered, “Let me accompany you---”
Soleil shook her head and rolled her eyes. “Thank you, milord, but no. Stop treating me like a damsel in distress---”
“How about,” he said under his breath, “I turn you into a damsel in acute arousal---”
“Milord!”
He let out a low sigh. “I shall wait here then.”
“You may wait for a long time,” she warned. “I need to fix my hair a bit. All those whirls and twirls…”
Ilie frowned. “It looks fine to me.”
“Oh, but you’re a gentleman and so you do not know better.” She curtsied to him and made her way to the powder room.
Inside, she waited for the other ladies to leave before locking the door.
She looked around her and almost laughed. The powder room…was decorated in shades of blue. Her gaze fell on the mantel clock above the fireplace.
Five minutes before midnight.
Soleil closed her eyes.
She saw her life flash before her eyes. Every precious moment with her Papa and her sisters, but oh, how curious, she thought. Every once in a while, Ilie’s image would drift across her mind, like he meant more to her than everything – even if she knew they were only together for a short while.
And then she felt it---
&nb
sp; Something inside of her starting to crack, like a monster about to come into the world and its sole purpose was to devour her.
Slowly, Soleil fell to the carpet.
She closed her eyes just as she heard the door behind her crash open.
Her sister’s screams---
Her Papa bellowing for help---
And then she felt him.
The marquis.
Ilie.
Outside, wolves began to howl, a cacophonous sound of despair.
The marquis had dragged her into his lap, shaking her. “What the fuck’s wrong with her? Tell me!”
“She’s cursed,” Fleur was crying.
Oh, Fleur. Always too impetuous for her own good.
“She needs a heartkeeper or she’ll die,” Aurora said in a rush, tears choking her voice.
And of course, Aurora, always thinking she needed to save the world just because she happened to be smarter than most.
“Open your eyes, damn you.”
He shook her, again and again, and still she wouldn’t have given in if she had not heard him speak again---
“Damn you. Open them for me, please.” His voice broke.
Ilie’s chest exploded in painful relief as he saw Soleil’s eyes flutter open. The permanent wound over his heart blazed, his brothers in blood asking him what was wrong.
In the distance, the clock chimed.
Three minutes until midnight.
“Damn you,” he raged down at her. “Be my heartkeeper now.”
She smiled, and the sight broke his heart because it was like she was saying goodbye to him.
And now he remembered what Fleur kept telling him---
Almost like God sending a damn message---
A hopeless romantic.
Soleil was a foolishly hopeless romantic.
He whispered rawly, “You bloody fool.”
“Your w-words, m-milord.” She laughed then choked, and coldness wrapped around his heart when he saw that she had choked out blood without knowing it.
“Who the fuck cares?” he hissed. “Because it’s goddamn true. You’re a bloody fool, and you’re bloody selfish, to curse me like you’re cursed---”
“N-no---”
More blood.
“Yes,” he snarled. “You’ve cursed me.”