CHAPTER 10
Beth woke up feeling lost and confused and dying of thirst.
She sat up and looked around. What time was it? She leaned and peeked over the couch, then listened in the silence. Where was he? Sliding out of the bed, she made her way to the little fridge, looking at the front door as she went. The sight of Sahvrin in only jeans on the pier froze her and tightened her womb. What was he doing? Her eyes devoured the delicious sight of him, especially that tattoo. Mercy, could a man be more delicious? Not in a million lifetimes.
Pure lust brought her to the screen door where she pressed her nose to stare. He gave a brisk shake of his head and swiped his hands through his dark black hair. It was wet, she realized as she watched with renewed awe at the ripple of muscles. What was he doing out there?
Pushing through her inadequacy, she opened the door. She’d just go talk to him and ask questions like normal people do. Five steps into her bravery, he turned, and she stopped in her tracks. He stared at her now, and she felt like a deer in headlights. God, the intensity in his dark eyes weakened her knees.
He was coming toward her now, a half-naked, slow-moving swamp storm, his eyes fixed on her chest.
“I’m sorry,” she announced as he approached, because saying random things at the wrong time always seemed right. She was sorry. About something. Shit, the shirt. She reached up and made sure it was unbuttoned but not open!
Her eyes locked on his beautiful chest. “I see you had another shower, that’s nice. The night is sultry enough for one,” she went on, her voice quivering and cracking as he closed in on her. “I…I don’t think I ever told you how much I love the way your family hugs and…and even the fighting and the…” He stopped just before her and took her face carefully between his hands and lowered his head. He pressed his lips on the center of her forehead and before she could think like a child, his kiss moved just to the left. Then to the right. “...and… the love,” she mumbled with eyes closed, really wanting to stare at his chest this close up. The smell of that soap or shampoo from the shower permeated the space between them until her mouth watered.
“Ma-petite,” he whispered, gliding his hand along the hair next to her face. “Please forgive me for not being stronger.”
He continued pressing soft kisses onto her head. “Stronger?”
“My brothers--”
“Probably hate me,” she gasped, sure he would never kiss a child like this.
“No, Ma Petite. They are all madly in love with you. But they will never… lay a single fornicating finger on my angel, this I promise.”
His hands and lips vanished, and she slowly opened her eyes, fighting to catch her breath. He was gone too. She swallowed, licking her dry lips. His angel? What did all that just mean? Those kisses. They were…
She drifted back down to earth, shoving her inner negative Nancy back before she had a chance to shit on everything. Those kisses were not childlike. And they were damn amazing. That was her treasure, no matter what it meant or didn’t.
What was this sudden, deep conviction to protect her from his brothers who…were madly in love with her? What on earth was he seeing? And they were fornicators? That was a shock, she wasn’t sure why. And they will never lay one single fornicating finger on my angel, this I promise. Heat flashed through her body. He said that while kissing her. That was big, that meant something.
“Ma Petite, come inside before Gras Jean pays you a visit. He’s always hungry and very jealous.”
She hurried in at the mention of hungry alligators, but she kept her smile to herself about the jealous part. She didn’t want to be walking around with a grin while something bothered him. And something obviously did.
“I must’ve taken a cat nap. What time is it?”
“Around midnight, I think.”
“You…take showers at odd times.”
“I couldn’t sleep,” he said, at the coffee pot, making her wonder what had him so bothered that he couldn’t sleep. Had she angered him or…disappointed him?
“Want coffee?” he asked, without looking at her.
“Yes, sure.”
She watched his muscles moving in his arm and back as he did the simple task of making coffee. Her gaze got stuck on his hands. Mercy, those thick veins beneath the smooth tanned skin. My God he had beautiful hands and fingers. Big and long. So long.
He chuckled and she snapped her eyes up. Shit, what was funny? What’d she miss?
“Ma Petite, you’re being a scientist?”
“A scientist?”
“You were studying me so intently.”
“Sorry, I was uh, comparing.” Crap, what was she saying?
“And how did I measure up?”
She moved to the other counter, wrapping her hand in her hair while double checking the shirt was still mostly shut. “Fine. Good.”
“Fine and good?” He tsked a couple of times, setting the coffee pot back on the little stove to heat. “How can I improve?”
His question threw her in all the wrong directions. “Why would you want to?”
He shrugged, placing his hands on the counter, basically an invitation to devour him with her eyes. And resisting brought embarrassing eye twitches. “I am always trying to improve myself, Ma Petite.”
“Nothing,” she said. “You can’t.”
“I can’t improve?”
“I mean….there’s nothing to improve.”
His head went back with a laugh.
“You…don’t have shortcomings,” she added. “That I can see. That you should change.”
The look on his humored face said she was a mess of contradictions, but he didn’t mind at all, maybe even liked it. Loved it if she was being dreamy.
“So, I am perfectly fine and good?”
She could agree with that, so she did, with a nod.
“Where did Ma Petite learn her science skills? In her first major or her second?”
He was teasing her. Toying with her. Or just making conversation. She tried to appear as one considering a conversational response. “Both, I’m sure.”
“So… this has puzzled me for days. Why does Ma Petite not have someone special?”
Why that stupid topic? “Why are you curious?”
He returned his hands to the counter, back to staring deep into her eyes. “It fascinates me that somebody has not abducted…” he closed his eyes “…stupid word choice…taken you…. Mon Dieu, another stupid choice…”
She smiled, saving him the trouble. “I didn’t find the right one. I mean I found plenty, just not the right one.”
He angled his head, looking at her. “And how does Ma Petite define the right one?”
Somebody like you? “Just...” She gradually pulled her shoulders up. “Smart…kind…caring. Not stupid,” she added, considering her must have’s. “Has to be affectionate,”
“La passion?”
She swallowed and nodded with a wispy, “Yes,” before lowering her eyes.
“And you…cannot find this person all through college?”
“Well, you always think you have, but people are not…always honest about who they are or maybe they just don’t know who they are,” she explained. “I wouldn’t say they lie or are bad, just…” she shrugged, suddenly feeling like a wife justifying an abusive husband. “Selfish,” she ended, ready to be redeemed from her deluge of relationship mishaps.
“Ah, yes. I see this in my fornicating brothers.”
“Oh,” she said, not wanting to lump them with the bad guys. “I’m not anybody’s judge and it’s not my business what people do.”
“Except with you,” he said.
“Right. I developed a system,” she informed, regretting her words at realizing where it ended. But his nosy button was pressed. “I just…had requirements when I dated.”
The cross of his arms over his chest and raised brows meant don’t stop now. His eyes lowered to where she wrapped and unwrapped her hair around her hand. “Ma Petite has more secrets,” he said, eyeing her. “You’re nervous.”
“Not secrets, just…I don’t like talking about private things.”
He nodded, smiling again. “A good thing you changed majors, yes?”
Ugh, sexy smartass. “It wasn’t anything outrageous, I just…didn’t allow for sex in dating because it was the only way I would really know what they liked me for.”
“Why are you so defensive about this brilliant system you developed? It should be required learning.”
She gave a relieved laugh, amazed with him as usual. “I think so.”
“So how many imbeciles did Ma Petite have to sift through?”
Laughter shot out at those priceless words. “I’m too embarrassed to say.”
His look turned painful. “Mon Dieu, that many?”
She nodded and smiled at his grin. “I quit trying after about four.”
He turned and pulled their coffee cups closer to him. “You might be the wisest person I know.” He picked up the pot and filled both cups, then handed her one.
“And what about you?” she asked, taking it. “How on earth did you manage not to get raped again all this time?”
He lowered his cup, smiling. “You sound like that’s a hard thing to do?”
She held back her snort. “Surely you must know how ridiculously cute you are. Don’t tell me all the girls you meet don’t try to get you in bed, I’ll be…insulted.”
God that laugh. “Ohhh, Ma Petite, you always go too far,” he said, confusing her. “My line of work requires a level of focus,” he said with an easy shrug. “Women can be a risky distraction.”
Surely, he wasn’t always in this line of work. “So, you’re saying you seriously only had sex with one woman, and that’s it?”
“Is this hard to believe for you?”
She gave a shrug, her head swiveling oddly. “Maybe.”
“Perhaps Ma Petite can help me.”
“Help you? How?” Her heart hammered at what he could mean.
“I seem to have need of one of your majors.”
Her heart skipped several beats. “Hoping you need a map?”
It was hard to stay serious with him when he laughed like that. Was like getting drugged with happy rainbows. “Maybe you can draw me one to the real treasure.”
The real treasure. It made her a little nauseated that she wasn’t a real enough treasure to him. “Some things can’t be taught. Some people are blind to the obvious before them. Or they just don’t really want what they think they do.”
“What do you think I want, Ma Petite?”
She shrugged, looking down at her cup and seeing her shirt gaping. “No clue,” she said sipping her coffee and discreetly shutting it a little. “Mmm. Good as usual.”
“Let’s pretend I’m looking for a woman. The first requirement I’d have is she has to love the swamp as much as I do. Enough to marry it till death parts them. I’d want her funny, kind, strong, independent. Beautiful. And with a body that haunts my dreams.”
Dear God, felt like he was describing her. Did her body haunt his dreams? She was the one dreaming. “No possessive women?” She was damn possessive.
He thought a second then, said, “I definitely want her possessive of me and only me.”
Felt like she was auditioning for a part. “And would you be possessive of her?”
He nodded with absolution. “Dangerously so.”
She laughed at that while her insides jittered everywhere. “I think any woman would want nothing less.”
“And you, Ma Petite?” He eyed her over his coffee cup again.
“Yes, I supposed I do since I think I belong in the woman category,” she said, heat burning her cheeks.
“You think?”
“Well, I’m trying to think that.”
He set his coffee down, clearly intrigued. “Is this hard for you to imagine?”
She sputtered a little. “Well, with people thinking of you like a child or…” She almost said little sister. “You haven’t helped,” she decided to come out and say.
“Me!” he said, hand on his gorgeous chest in amused shock.
“Yes, you.” She wasn’t letting him off the hook anymore. “I mean…you call me little all the time, I remind you of your little sister, you see me as your little sister, you treat me like your little sister so yes,” she nodded setting her cup down before she spilled it everywhere. “It’s hard identifying as a woman when around you.” She crossed her arms over her chest then uncrossed them at encountering her second-degree burns, ready to vanish now.
“And you think there’s something wrong with being a woman and little at the same time?”
As usual, he pinned her against the wall with his fail-proof logic. “No.”
“Clearly you do, Ma Petite,” he begged to differ oh so lightly.
“Maybe I just don’t like being thought of as the little sister.” There. She’d said it straight.
The heat in his eyes got three million degrees hotter. “Ma Petite,” he said, a whole octave lower. “I did that to protect you.”
****
Bishop had officially declared war against Saint Sahvrin. Ever since their little card game, he decided it was time to burn it all down. And now that it was burning, even Saint Sahvrin was ready to meet the needs of his starved angel. One by one, Bishop tossed little pieces of tinder into the flames and His Petite added her own with that angelic oblivion.
“Protect…from what?”
The whisper called Bishop right to her front door, eager to punish something.
“From me.”
“You?” Her confusion mounted next to her excitement as he watched her try to think around it. “And…now you’re….”
Years of pent-up hunger spilled out everywhere. “More dangerous, Angel.”
She loved this, he saw. Craved it. And her fight to hide that brought fire to his blood like it did when he tracked and hunted the guilty.
“How…are you dangerous?”
Such a brave petite fleur. He remembered that her panties hung in his bathroom, and therefore were not on her. He imagined walking over and doing whatever he wanted because she would surely let him.
“It’s okay if…you don’t want to tell me.”
“I want things, Ma Petite,” he said, not caring about what would be incinerated by this fire, only interested in how hot he’d make it burn.
“W-what…kind of things?”
He let his gaze lower to what kind of things, staring at her breasts peeking at him from behind his shirt. Mon Dieu she was beautiful. The years of deprivation had him needing to stare at her tits for hours. If he had been under his celibacy contract, he’d surely forfeit his position if it meant having just a small taste of her. He raised his eyes to assess her condition and at finding her gaze boiling with need, he knew he’d get a lot more than a taste.
“Has Ma Petite… ever felt pleasure?”
The heat in her shocked stare reached him. “I…I’m…a virgin.”
His cock throbbed at her answer, loving it very much. “You have never… felt sexual pleasure, Angel?” he asked, his pulse hammering now.
She licked her lips and looked down into her cup again. “Not…with a man, no.”
Mon fucking Dieu. Images of her rubbing her sweet pussy with her legs wide open filled his head and cock. Seeing her in that kind of pleasure was suddenly air he’d die without. “You have touched yourself before? Ma Petite?”
She closed her eyes, and he knew without a doubt that it was arousal she now panted on.
He made his way slowly to her, ready to turn everything up. She remained with her eyes closed when he stood next to her. “Tell me,” he urged in a whisper, wanting to tear into her. “Have you ever touched your pretty pussy?”
She gave a gasp, followed by another with her soft whispered, “Yes.”
He leaned and put his mouth near her ear. “Do you want to feel good, Ma Petite che’re?”
Her breaths shook out more, then she finally gave him what he craved to have. “Yes.”
He realized that answer still wasn’t enough. “Do you need me to make your pussy feel good?”
“Yes,” she said weakly, still not looking at him.
His cock pounded as he reached up and stroked his finger along her face, getting a tiny whimper as she leaned into it, hungry. “Follow me.”
He made his way to the couch and turned, finding her several feet behind. “Sit,” he told her, his cock fighting to burst from his jeans.
She looked at the couch as if it were a most difficult decision. He waited for her to make up her mind. There could be no wrong decision with her.
“You do not have to, Ma Petite,” he said softly. “You can say no. But once you say yes…know that I will make you helpless.”
She finally gave her breathless yes with her eyes closed. That was enough for him.
He decided at the last burning second that she’d better not touch him while he pleasured her. He would already be burned alive but once His Petite was in the flames, she could easily rise up and render him helpless. She was still mending but not completely there yet. He’d give her any and every form of pleasure, but not sex. Not until she proved she wanted all that it came with.
He sat carefully next to her, placing one arm on the top of the couch. “Ma Petite… you must hold your hands behind you and tell me you will not touch me. Will you do this?”
Her decision came faster than before, but the slow way she did as asked said she still battled with herself.
That fight was all but over.
Once she sat, it was his turn to battle. Mostly what part of her did he want first and with what part of himself did he want it? He eyed her breasts barely visible between the gap in his shirt, his mind erupting in hotter flames. Mon Dieu, he’d start there. She needed his tongue and lips soothing that tender flesh.
He moved her hair gently aside and her frantic breaths burned him alive. “Do you trust me, Ma Petite?” He leaned in close to her face and paused at her mouth, feeling her breath. He glided his thumb on her lower lip, drawing her sharp gasp then moan. So new to pleasure, Mon Dieu. He stroked her face like he had so many times, kissing her temple while trailing his fingers along her jaw, making his way to her neck.
“Lay back, angel. Relax for me.”
She did as he said, keeping her eyes closed. The reclined position made her like an offering he couldn’t resist.
“I’m going to kiss you,” he warned before brushing his lips along her parted mouth, moaning in her hot whimpers. Pulling back a little, he stared at her while carefully opening one side of the shirt, then the other, exposing her completely. Angling his head, he took in the red, delicate mounds. “Ma Belle Angel,” he whispered, marking his brain with the painful vision before moving back to her mouth. “I need to lick your beautiful nipples.”
He didn’t wait for her permission, lowering and carefully circling the burning, hard tip with his tongue.
“Oh my God,” she gasped when he suckled it between his lips. Mon Dieu, the thick flesh in his mouth made him insane.
“Please, oh please,” she begged, driving him.
He licked all along her hot, small mounds, placing tender, open mouthed kisses on them. He pulled up, watching the rapture in her face, psychotically fixated by it. He’d have to have this again. And again. And fucking again.
He looked down at her squirming hips, ready to drive the fire higher. She wore a thin skirt, the short length making it easy to slide up. His cock hammered cruelly as he uncovered his treasure.
“Mon Dieu, Angel,” he breathed when the perfect dark triangle appeared. He tucked the material down at her waist, not wanting any interference. Her legs were now closed almost as tight as her eyes. That would change very soon. He glided his fingers along the seam of her closed legs, brushing the soft pussy hair then moving back to her knees again. When he moved along the same path, she gave scared, hungry moans, opening a little. “Yes, Ma Petite. Open for me.”
By the time he was at her pussy, she was open enough for him to slide his fingers softly over her mound, feeling her shape. He added a little pressure as he moved along her lips, till her hips pushed back. He watched her pussy reach for his hand, his breaths thick at the sight. He turned leaned for her breast, kissing the nipple closest to him as he dipped a finger between her folds.
“Sahvrin!”
He couldn’t speak. He groaned while exploring her nipple with his lips and tongue. Up and down her slick heat he glided the pad of his finger till he was quietly swearing in French. He wouldn’t enter her, not yet. He moved to her mouth, wide with the shocking pleasure, recalling her pelvic exam confession. He would soon kiss her there and remove all the painful memories.
“Please, yes,” she gasped between sharp breaths as he barely pushed his finger in her. “I need it.”
He pulled up to see her face as he pressed his palm into her clit and pushed his middle finger carefully in her. Her mouth opened more, and she looked down, watching. He watched with her, groaning hungrily. “Your sweet fucking pussy,” he said when she twirled her hips and flicked for more. He sank deeper inside, exploring her wet heat while moving his palm in circles on her clit.
“Sahvrin, oh,” she cried, her hot walls spasming.
He pushed in deeper until his hand pressed into her body. The fucking clamp of her pussy, Mon Dieu. “Open wider, Ma Petite,” he said at her mouth. “Give me more of your pretty pussy, so much fucking more.” He looked down at her creamy legs doing exactly as he said while he pressed harder until he seethed with lust.
“I’m coming, I’m coming,” she cried.
He gripped her jaw and forced her to take his kiss, forgetting to be gentle. He filled her mouth with harsh groans, licking at her tongue while grinding his palm against her clit. The way she bucked and cried in his mouth nearly caused him to erupt in his pants.
Sahvrin finally broke the kiss, wanting to see her as he slowed his pace. She remained with mouth open, repeating “Oh my God,” between many breaths. The sound of her shock said she had never experienced such a thing and the idea had a million unhealthy things racing through him. He was the creator of this first pleasure, and nobody else could give it now. He’d just signed an unwritten contract between them. Only he was allowed to give her that.
“Ma Petite,” he whispered at her mouth. “Tell me how much you loved it.” It wasn’t the intended thing he meant to say but realized he needed to be sure. “Have you ever felt this pleasure before?”
He watched her eyes open barely, staring at him as she confessed the breathless whisper. “Never in my life.”
So much hunger she stirred in him. He gripped her lower jaw, again too hard, making her to take his kiss. The sounds of her arousal mixed with surprise told him she liked this hunger in him. Merci Dieu. But he had too much of it. And he couldn’t be hard with his delicate, sucre fleur, not yet.
She suddenly wrapped her arms around his neck. He should stop her but her fingers exploring his back felt too fucking amazing and sacred to disturb. Her breaths picked up again with light moans of need followed by scraping nails along his back. “Ma Petite,” he croaked with need.
“Make love to me,” she sighed in his mouth. “I want you to be my first.”