Loving the Enemy (Seven Forbidden Arts Book 0)

by Charmaine Pauls

  Her head just reached over the dash. That same feeling of protectiveness he had always felt with her consumed him anew, but this time it was even stronger.

  “Move the seat forward,” he said.

  She frowned. “Damn thing is stuck.”

  “Where are we going?”

  For a while, she only chewed her lip. Finally, she said, “I don’t know,” with strain in her voice.

  Damn, this was too much on her shoulders. He couldn’t leave her to figure it out all on her own.

  “They’ll be looking for the van. It’ll be easy to spot.” There was a big fucking monkey painted on the side.

  “I know,” she said, rolling her shoulders.

  Jacob reached out and massaged her neck–she was as stiff as a stick–but the pain was returning to his arm, and he had to drop his hand.

  He was trying to think, fighting not to give in to the darkness, and his last thought was that he was losing.

  When he woke up, he was lying in the passenger seat of the van, the backrest moved all the way down. A blanket covered him. Lily was bent over the steering wheel, her lips pouting toward him as the plastic indented her cheek. In the hand that rested next to her on the seat, she clutched his revolver. Her eyes were closed. It was dark outside. He tried to sit up to see through the window and flinched at the pain. The minute he moved, Lily shot upright and gasped. She looked around frantically.

  “It’s all right,” he said.

  “You’re awake.”

  She looked so relieved, he felt guilty for passing out. Her hair was a mess, and in the light of the moon he could see tears shining in her eyes, but she didn’t shed them.

  He wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and soothe her, but they were still in the goddamn zoo van. It was only a matter of time, minutes even, before the police, and the mercenaries, tracked them down. He needed to know how much time they had.

  “How long was I out for?”

  “Couple of hours.”

  Too fucking long.

  “Come on.” She touched her door handle.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Inside.”

  ‘Inside where?’ he wanted to ask, but Lily was already out of the van, coming around to him.

  She opened his door and peered inside. “Lean on me.”

  It took some effort for her to help him get out of the van. He took note of the surrounding. They were in the middle of the woods.

  “Where are we?”

  “Close to Paris.”

  Paris was miles away. “You drove for two hours?”

  “Almost. I tried to get as far away as possible.”

  She walked him along a path and when he looked up he saw a log cabin. “What’s this?”

  “Hunting cabin.”

  She helped him up the steps to the door, but he held her back. “We’ve got to check it out first.”

  “Already did, while you were knocked out.”

  Lily kept on surprising him. They went inside, and she lit a lantern before helping him to the couch.

  “No electricity,” she said, “and no cellphone reception.”

  That was bad. They were cut off from the world, with no way of monitoring what was happening on the outside, and who was coming in for them.

  Their bags sat on the carpet by the sofa. A stack of wood was already packed in the fireplace. Lily fiddled with a box of matches she picked up from the mantelpiece. It was a warm evening. They didn’t need a fire.

  “What are you doing?” he said.

  She looked over her shoulder at him. “You’re cold.”

  He touched his forehead with a clammy palm. His skin did feel cold to the touch.

  Lily walked over to the sofa and took something from her bag. When she turned to him, she was carrying the assassin’s rifle. She leaned it against the couch he was sitting on.

  “I’m going to pick up supplies.”

  She was going to do what? He tried to sit up. “You’re not going anywhere.” It sounded harsher than what he intended. “It’s dangerous.”

  “I’ll be back before you know it.”

  It took all the strength he had in him to push to his feet and grab her arm as she walked past him. She stopped and cupped his face, giving him a soft look. The tender act caught him off guard.

  “Please,” she said, “your stitches will tear. Don’t move so aggressively. Save your strength.”

  Aggressively? He let go of her and dropped his hand. He had no intention of treating her aggressively.

  “Lily–”

  She went on tiptoe and kissed him. “Don’t miss me.”

  That bowled him over. After the way she had left, he expected anger, not kisses. He fell back into the seat, not having the energy to argue. The flames started licking over the wood in the fireplace, but he felt even colder than before when Lily’s tiny shape disappeared through the door.

  It was only an hour later, but it felt like forever when the door finally opened. Jacob sighed with relief.

  “God, Lily, I was dying of worry.”

  “Sorry,” she mumbled. “Had to go to a twenty-four hour gas station.” She dropped a bag on the wooden counter and started unpacking it.

  He watched her move like a starved man. He couldn’t believe he had almost lost her. He thought he was going to rip the man apart who had his weapon trained on her, would have, if Lily hadn’t shot him. The new Lily was still a mystery to him. She had been strong when they were attacked in Durban, but now she was more than that. She was a fighter.

  She opened a carton and poured it in a pot. When she brushed past him to fetch the matches, the urge was strong to pull her down onto the couch with him, but he knew Lily had to do what she had to do. She lit the gas, and a short while later the fragrance of chicken soup filled the air. She poured two mugs and carried one to him. For a while, they only stared at the flames, sitting quietly next to each other.

  Lily looked down at his mug. “Want me to help you? I could feed you.”

  He smiled at that. He almost said yes, just to have her bringing spoons to his mouth, to know she cared enough about him to do that, but he wasn’t hungry.

  He shook his head. “Still feeling nauseous.”

  “You have to keep up your strength. Eat.”

  She got up then, and checked the locks on the door before she returned to her seat. “I’ve checked the windows. They’re bolted.”

  “The van–”

  “Don’t worry. Nobody saw me turning in here. The road was deserted. I’ve parked it farther away, deeper into the woods.”

  The tracks could still be traced, but Jacob didn’t say that. She was trying her best. For now, there was nothing else or better he could do, anyway.

  He brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear. “How did you find this place?”

  “Backup plan.” When he frowned, she continued, “I checked places not too far from the cathedral, in case I ever had to run again, hide out for a bit, and I saw an ad in the paper for renting this hunting cabin.”

  “You rented it while I was passed out?”

  “Nobody saw you. I parked in a dark alley and went to the owner’s house in the village to pay a deposit and to get the key. I locked you in the van. And I had to tell her we’re on honeymoon, because at first she said it was late and I had to come back tomorrow morning.”

  “Honeymoon, huh?”

  She only stared at her hands.

  “Well, I’m glad you’re such a proactive woman.”

  She looked at him, her face apprehensive. “How did you find me?”

  Ah. Here was the part he feared talking about. He didn’t know if she was apprehensive because she didn’t want him to find her, or because she thought she couldn’t be found.

  “I asked around,” he said.

  Her expression was incredulous. “Just like that? You asked around?”

  “The name Mary Franklin popped up in the French Catholic baptism records.”

  She covered
her face with her hands. “I thought I was so clever, and I got him killed.” A sob broke from her throat.

  Jacob pulled her to his good shoulder, cradling her head in his hand. “You were clever. Almost too clever. And it wasn’t your fault.”

  “How can you even say that? If I hadn’t gone there, he’d still be alive.” Another sob shook her, and another, until the tears wouldn’t stop flowing. “I killed a man, Jacob. I killed him, and the worst is that I’m not sorry.” Jacob stroked her hair while she cried, giving her the only comfort he could as she mourned for the friend she had lost. When her sobs calmed, his shirt was soaked. He pushed her away gently to rub his thumbs over her wet cheeks.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry that happened.”

  She was still crying, but quietly now. “You took a bullet for me. You could have been dead too. Don’t you see why I left?” She covered her face again. “Why did you come back?” Her voice was pure agony. “Why, Jacob? Why did you have to come back?”

  For a moment he could only stare at her. She ran to protect him? That was why she had left? He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, biting down on his fist. She ran and risked her life because she thought he’d be safe? He inhaled deeply and slowly. When he opened his eyes again, she was studying him.

  “Why did you come back?” she whispered, and he groaned inwardly, because there was hope in her eyes.

  What was he supposed to say to that? He wasn’t the kind of man she deserved. He searched for the truth in his soul. God knew, she needed a better man but he couldn’t let her go. Eventually, she would hate him. But she belonged to him, in love or in hate. Finally, after a long moment, he said, “To keep you alive until you get to Paris. And because you’re mine.”

  Her face lit up at that last part, and it was knife twisting in his heart. She had no idea how literally he meant it. He had paid for her life. In his world, he owned her.

  She put her head back on his chest. “I’m in love with you, Jacob. That’s why I left you. Because I couldn’t stand for anything to happen to you. And because you told me not to love you.”

  He pinched his eyes shut and felt the ache spread from his heart to the rest of his body, constricting his throat, making it hard to swallow. She was in love with him. Fuck. He cared too much not to prepare her for what was to come.

  He made his voice hard. “Lily.” She lifted her head, concern flickering in those intoxicating blue eyes. “There will come a day that you won’t love me. And even if your feelings turn to contempt and loathing, I will never let you go. Remember how you feel now, hold onto this feeling, when that day comes.”

  He would have given everything he owned not to see the look that came over her face. Her pretty mouth pulled down, her lips quivering. “Why are you saying this? Don’t you want me to love you?”

  “I don’t deserve your love, sweetheart.”

  “But you said–”

  “I said you belong to me.”

  She shook her head, already in denial of the truth. “I don’t get it. What’s the difference?”

  The difference was, whether she loved or hated him, he had no intention of ever letting her go. He realized that during the long weeks he had been searching for her. She was his, from the top of her clever head to the tip of her dainty toes. His gaze ran over her. It had been too long. He had waited for this for weeks, not knowing if it was going to be too late. And it damn well almost was.

  He grabbed her face between his hands, and kissed her hard. She didn’t expect it, and didn’t restrain him, so his teeth caught her lip, but she kissed him back. He opened her lips with his, seeking entrance for his tongue, and then he fucked her mouth like he wanted to fuck her sweet, tight pussy. He sucked the breath from her like he needed the very air she breathed to survive, until she turned limp in his hands. The power shifted as she gave in to him, submitting like he needed her to, and only then did he let her mouth go.

  She was panting, her pretty breasts moving up and down. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from them.

  “Undress,” he said. Damn, the word sounded more like a growl. He softened his voice. “Take off your clothes for me, Lily.”

  “Jacob, you’re injured. The stitches…”

  His hands were already on his buckle. “You’re going to have to ride me.”

  She flushed at that, a pretty shade of red that colored her pale, tear-stained cheeks. He wanted to fuck the tears right out of her heart, make her forget ever horrible thing that had ever happened to her, make her forget the last few hours existed. He watched her eyes widen as he pulled his cock free. He was so hard, his balls drawn up so deep into his body, he was aching.

  “Do you need help?” he said, making sure the intent carried on his voice.

  She jumped back to life, grabbing the hem of her dress and pulling it over her head. By the time she had toed off her shoes, he had a condom rolled over his cock. She stood in front of him in pink underwear, the ones he had bought for her, the ones she had put on after he had taken her virginity. Her breasts were firm and round, her hips small.

  “Do you still shave your pussy?” he said.

  She clasped her hands together. She was shy with him again. “Yes.”

  “Show me.”

  She wiggled out of her underwear, discarding them by her feet. His eyes roamed over her naked form. She was fucking beautiful.

  “Come here,” he said. She didn’t hesitate to step between his legs. It hurt too much to lift her, so he said, “On the couch.”

  She straddled him, and sat down to kiss him, but he grabbed her ass and pushed her naked pussy up to where he wanted it–on his mouth. He had sworn if he ever got the chance again, it was going to be gentle, and slow, but he hadn’t reckoned with the depth of his need, or his longing for his brave, little villain. He craved her. He wanted to devour every inch of her. He leaned forward and inhaled her feminine scent, the unique skin chemistry that made Lily smell like a candy apple and soft jasmine and rough desire and everything in between.

  He opened his mouth and bit down softly. She cried out, grinding her hips forward, urging him to take more. He flicked out his tongue to taste her. She was dripping honey for him, and he was wild for it. He lapped it up, licked her from top to bottom and back up. Her whimpers turned to moans, the soft gasps driving him crazy as he fucked her with his tongue. He drove into her with firm, deep strokes, and heard her protest when he pulled out to suck on her clit. He had to grip her hips to keep her steady, because she jerked back at the intenseness of his caress, and that was his cue to make it even harder.

  It took a few seconds for her to come in his mouth. He didn’t let up when the orgasm released her muscles. His lips milked the very last shudder that ran over her body. Her head fell back as she called out his name, her body spent, but he wasn’t done with her, not by a long shot. Keeping one hand on her hip, he used the other to stroke her engorged folds. She tried to move away, and it hurt like hell to keep her in place while his finger slipped inside her. His shoulder pumped with waves of pain.

  Her back arched when he started moving. She closed her eyes and bit her lip. The tension grew back into her face as he stroked her softly, bringing her desire back to life. Her lips parted, and she cupped her breasts with her pale hands. Her nails were painted a dark blue, a deep contrast against the whiteness of her skin.

  The erotic sight made him want to bury his cock inside of her. “Fuck, Lily, baby.”

  He pushed deeper and she moaned louder.

  “More,” she said, her breath catching. “Harder.”

  He was going to come before he had a chance to get inside her. Nothing turned him on like Lily asking for what she wanted.

  He gave her two fingers, moving faster. She was wet and slick, her pussy hot around his fingers as he pumped in and out.

  “Ah. Ah.”

  “Not yet,” he growled. “You’re going to come with my cock inside of you, do you hear me?”

  He pulled out his fingers and pushe
d her down until his cock pressed at her entrance.

  “Take me at your pace, Lily. I don’t want to hurt you, baby.”

  She pushed down and took the head. The air hissed from his lungs. He focused hard on not coming. She cried out a little, and he guessed there was some pain as well as pleasure, because her face scrunched up and her eyes flew wide open.

  “That’s it. Look at me.”

  She leaned forward, bracing her arms on the backrest of the couch instead of on his shoulder, and moved down another inch. He breathed harshly, trying to keep still and not slam up like he wanted. His hands moved to her breasts. They were warm and firm under his fingers. Lily moved painfully slow, working him into her, sliding out an inch, and taking a bit more. By the time he was filling her up to his balls, he was sweating and shaking, his hands clenched into the fabric of the seat next to him.

  “Sweetheart,” he said through clenched teeth, “you’re going to have to move now, baby. I can’t hold back any longer. I need to come with you.”

  She lifted her hips, sliding him out almost all the way, before pushing back down slowly. He clenched his jaw as he repeated his mantra of holding back. He looked at where their bodies were joined. He was stretching her wide, her beautiful pussy lips thin and pink around his cock.

  “Does it hurt?” he said.

  She shook her head. “Ah, Jacob, this is so good.”

  She moved up, and then down again, faster and harder, her breasts bouncing softly. He wanted to touch them, but the sight was too beautiful to look at–Lily with her body arched back, her head lifted to the ceiling, her lips parted in ecstasy. He leaned forward, took a nipple into his mouth and sucked.

  She cried out and he immediately let go.

  “Doesn’t it feel good?”

  “Oh God, Jacob, it’s deeper when you do that.”

  “You want more?”

  “Yes. Please.”

  He angled himself, deepening the penetration, and took the other nipple in his mouth, biting down gently this time. Her scream filled the room. He couldn’t keep still any longer. He met her each and every thrust, pushing up as she came down. He pulled back to move his hand between their bodies and found her clit. He rubbed hard, and a second later she contracted around him in a soundless whimper, her pussy milking his cock and her thighs clenching against his legs. God, she was beautiful when she came. It was all he needed to see before he let go, coming so hard that a splitting pain immediately bloomed into a headache in his brain. He may have even popped a vessel in his eye.