by Tee, Marian
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 inhibitions 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!
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 tellin
g 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?”