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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.
Mine. His voice was hard.
In the distance, wolves howled.
Chapter Six
The marquis’ horses grazed contentedly on the open field outside the sprawling gates of ANEX. Their master stood beside them, quiet and pensive as he waited patiently for his heartkeeper to finish her meeting. He had refused Soleil’s offer to accompany her inside, knowing that with the mood he was in earlier, he would have only caused trouble. Lady Soleil, he knew, was quite unaware that wolves were most territorial following sex, and more so when it was with their heartkeeper.
The permanent wound over his heart suddenly burned. It was the mark of his blood bond with his brothers, and he answered right away. Your Grace.
Good to know you’re still alive, milord. But it was clear in the Duke of Brimstone’s tone that he was being sarcastic.
You are too attached to me, Silviu. It makes one wonder.
Fuck you.
That’s the duke I know.
Silviu’s tone turned serious. What is this I’ve been hearing about you courting a baron’s daughter?
Ilie clucked his tongue. You’ve turned into a gossip, Your Grace. How frighteningly disappointing.
Ah. It’s serious then, if you’re unwilling to give me a straight answer.
And so he was, Ilie thought. But the reason behind it eluded him. Silviu was his brother by choice, his friend, and the leader he had sworn on his life to serve and protect. The duke would have welcomed the news that Ilie had found his heartkeeper—-
His lips twisted.
Again.
They went on to discuss Ilie’s undercover mission in Asphodel, which was to flush out the traitor in their midst. The same person, he believed, who was responsible for the setup that almost had killed an entire squad of enforcers – including Les Trois Belles Lames.
After, Silviu said finally, George says hi.
I will contact you with any updates, Your Grace. The connection between them faded. The pain from the wound over his heart eased, but the agony inside his body had flamed back to life.
George says hi.
He laughed humorlessly.
Poor Silviu. The Duke of Brimstone was possessive, as all demons were, almost selfishly so, but his angelic half forbade him to give in to the greedy need to cage his heartkeeper away. Instead, it forced the duke to be fair and sensitive to those around them—-
Even if it meant allowing communication between the other man who held a key to his woman’s heart.
George says hi.
An image started to form, but he savagely ripped it into pieces before the image could complete itself. He did not want to think of things that could never be his – and never was. The Duke of Brimstone had found her first, and he knew, deep inside, that given the choice, she would still choose the duke.
