Eleven
She bit him. The little diabla bit him.
“Ow,” Apollo cried, tearing the finger from its trap while she bared shiny white teeth at him. “That hurt,” he protested, looking down at the injured digit.
“I didn’t bite you that hard.” She was nothing but sweetness now that she’d almost maimed him, not that his wayward cock noted the difference. “Besides, I thought I’d show you some of my self-defense tactics.”
She did look radiant after she took the skin off a man, positively bloodthirsty.
“Ah, my new pupil has arrived,” Gilberto, his old friend and sparring partner, called as he made his way to them. Apollo had a feeling he’d regret bringing her here. His house would’ve been a much better choice, but he’d wanted her to see this.
“Gilberto Dossantos, Doctora.” Apollo noticed his friend’s fingers didn’t get bitten off. “You’re already displaying excellent instincts,” he complimented her by pointing at the injured finger. The wench tittered at the joke at his expense, and that only made him more obsessed.
“Should I go with him?” Aurora asked innocently, which he knew by now was when he could absolutely not trust her.
“I think I can handle things from here,” he grumbled, shoving Gilberto aside. “Biting is not allowed,” he grumbled, which earned him a surprised look from Aurora and a snort from Gilberto.
“Is he always this sensitive?” Aurora asked her new best friend.
“I’m not—” They were baiting him, and Apollo was allowing it. How had he lost control of the situation so damned fast? The answer to that was standing next to him, in one of her woolen monstrosities. “Let’s get on with the lesson, shall we?” he finally said. Aurora instantly stood at attention, like a very short and well-endowed cadet.
“I’m ready.” Demonios, but he wanted to kiss her.
Gilberto considered her a moment, likely assessing what to start her with.
“Should we have her change into something less—” Apollo waved a hand toward her attire at a loss of what to even call it “—constraining?”
She stared down at herself, then glared up at him, looking quite offended.
“I’m not changing.” Then she turned to Gilberto and pinned him with a flirtatious little flutter of the eyelashes. Was she trying to get the man killed? “If this is self-defense, shouldn’t I do it in the clothes I’d be typically wearing in the event I’m attacked?”
Dammit, she was right. It was a conclusion he’d surely have reached if his brains weren’t scrambled from lusting after the pint-size hellion.
Gilberto nodded with a grin, clearly already smitten with her too. “Precisely,” he told her, sending an amused look at Apollo. “I will make sure to teach you—”
“I,” Apollo corrected, pointing at himself, then pulling on Gilberto’s arm to wrench him away from Aurora. “ I will be teaching her.”
Gilberto guffawed, allowing himself to be dragged away. “Oh, it’s like that, is it?” his old friend asked, and Apollo only grunted. Then turned to Aurora, who was watching them with interest.
“Ignore him,” he ordered, with a sideways look to Gilberto, who was still snickering. “Tonight we’ll go over a few simple moves to help you get away from an assailant.”
“But you told me that I’d be learning from a master.”
“I’m perfectly capable of teaching you some defensive tactics,” he assured her, while behind him Gilberto laughed so hard Apollo hoped he burst something.
“ Capoeiragem defensive tactics?” she asked, with narrowed eyes, and that was the precise moment when he knew this woman could quite easily take possession of his entire existence.
“Not exactly,” he hedged, knowing that was not a good enough answer for Aurora Montalban.
“What you did there.” She pointed a gloved finger toward the torchlit pit. “That’s what I’d like to learn,” she informed him, with that authoritarian way of hers. He thought he would very much like to hear it right in his ear while she instructed where and how to put his mouth on her next.
“What we were doing took us years to learn,” he explained in what he thought was a very sensible manner, but his Fiera would not have it.
“Then why did you bring me here to watch you do it when you were not planning to teach me anything useful? Or am I getting the girl lessons while the men actually learn how to defend themselves?”
“No, that is not…” he growled, then pinched the bridge of his nose, took a breath and recalibrated his tone when she pinned him with a nasty look. “I brought you here because I watched you put yourself in danger more than once and I didn’t like it.”
“You weren’t so worried, to send word in the last two days.”
From any other woman it wouldn’t have been much of declaration, but for Aurora, to actually admit she’d noted his silence made it very hard to keep himself in check. “You were waiting to hear from me, Fiera?” he asked, cupping her face.
“No,” she denied, but she didn’t reject his touch. “I was irritated at not knowing how your little lessons would impact my schedule.” He had to bite his lip to keep from grinning. She was so damned ornery.
“Why didn’t you send me a note?”
She shrugged and looked away. “I figured my safety was not as important as you’d claimed.”
He could tell her his first instinct was to force a carriage and bodyguard on her. That he’d been tempted to send Jean-Louis to shadow her every movement. But he knew how that would go over. But whatever she saw in his face seemed to finally soften her.
“We should get on with this,” she told him, but not before sending him a rueful smile. He made some kind of gruff noise in place of a yes. “And I do want to learn the ginga,” she said, walking past him down to the pit, where she assumed the ginga stance, with that heart-shaped bottom swaying. The only thing keeping him from groaning in agony was Gilberto’s presence.
“Who knew a short-assed fireball like that would be the one to knock down the great Apollo César a few pegs.”
“Vete a la mierda, Dossantos,” he told the man as he followed Aurora into the pit.
“Is this right?” she asked, face serious as anything while she whirled her arms in front of her and swung her bum.
“You know that will be absolutely useless in an encounter in an alley with some lowlife,” he told her. Not to mention the fact that she’d likely attract every male in a two-mile radius.
“Come on,” she urged him, dancing around him on the balls of her feet. The little jaunty hat she usually sported was lopsided and her shirt was half out of her too-big skirts. She was, in one word, chaos , and he would have ravished her right on the wet grass in an instant if she’d let him.
“Your movements should be stealthier,” he instructed and got himself in position to demonstrate. “Give yourself time to locate a weak spot.” She followed his lead, a little wrinkle of concentration forming between her brows as she did.
“Use your arms, Doctora,” Gilberto called from the sidelines, lifting his to show her how. She nodded at him, very seriously, then turned her attention back to Apollo.
“Like this?” she asked, with her elbows exactly where they needed to be. She liked to do things right the first time, his Fiera. He could only nod as a frantic heat sputtered inside his chest from looking at her. “How do I topple you?” She had the same glint in her eye he’d seen when she was admiring a particularly indulgent pastry.
“To start, I thought we’d focus on how to get you away from a hostile situation, not necessarily engaging with it,” he said in an attempt to redirect her.
“Fine, I’ll ask Gilberto,” she threatened, turning to his friend, who grinned back. Gilberto did not fancy women. In fact, he’d been devoted to Mihn for the better part of the last decade. Still, the thought of his hands on her made Apollo want to dismember things.
He exhaled, attempting to expel the cocktail of frustration and lust flooding him, and focused on the source of it.
“All right, I’ll teach you.” The moment he said it, the little vixen stopped to do a victory dance. She was being a brat and damned if seeing this side of her, didn’t make him want her more. “Come here.” He crooked a finger at her, which provoked a very unfriendly look. But she unbent from her crouch and made her way to him.
“How do you want me?” she asked with a hint of uncertainty as she looked him over. His pulse was racing, so much so, he thought he could hear the blood rushing in his ears. The top of her head barely reached his chin, but she looked formidable with her wild hair and her fists on her hips.
“Turn around.” She eyed him with suspicion, but when he twirled his finger in the air, she did as he asked.
“Do not take liberties, Your Grace,” she tossed over her shoulder.
“I’ve only ever taken the liberties you’ve given me, Fiera,” he whispered as he slid his arms around her waist. “But we can discuss what other ones I’d like to take on your delectably short body, after your lesson.” He had his lips right above her ear, and he could hear her quick breaths. A sweet little growl escaped her lips. He slid his hands to those wide, lush hips. “Now, be a good girl and lift your trasero.” She looked up at him with fire in those dark brown eyes.
“I will not,” she protested, and he decided it was time for her first lesson. Without warning, he slid his legs under her. “Que diablos?” She landed on the grass with a thump.
“An opponent is going to provoke you, Fiera.” He tried for a conciliatory tone, which she did not find amusing. The moment she stood up, she was back on guard. Her body taut as she awaited her instructions.
“Now, attack me,” he encouraged, thinking she’d waver, but she came at him without hesitation. Her smaller body rushing his much larger one. Her breathing was hard as she did her best to take him down. She wrapped her arms around his waist and tugged with surprising strength in an attempt to topple him.
“You barely budged,” she cried, sending a pleading look to Gilberto. “How do I take him down?” She was mightily pissed off, and he wanted to kiss her so badly, his teeth ached.
Gilberto took a step toward them but looked at Apollo first. He needed to get himself under control. He couldn’t expect her to learn if he didn’t allow anyone else to touch her.
She was not very good, bless her, but she had brio. It was the only word he could think of. Spirit, valor, resolve. Gilberto did not go easy on her, but she did not complain. Every time she fell, she got back up and into position.
Una Léona, esta mujer.
He thought he might never tire of her, if she was his.
“Come, do the leg sweep,” he told her, and she came at him again. She was relentless, crashing her body into his, until he was certain she’d have bruises from head to toe.
“Again,” she demanded, from where she’d landed on her side. After an hour, he was slick with sweat and she’d taken off her jacket. Her shirt was ripped at the collar. She barely seemed to notice. “I’m not very good at this, am I?” She didn’t seem particularly distressed by the fact.
“As long as you have one move that can neutralize an attacker,” he told her.
“You only need one good defensive move,” Gilberto concurred.
“I think I have one that might work,” she told them, between harsh breaths. She looked exhausted, but he knew better than to underestimate her. He could only imagine what it would be.
“Show me, then.”
She held up a finger, still breathing hard, and put her hands on her knees.
“Is she going to swoon?” Gilberto asked, while Apollo wondered the same thing.
“She’s reaching for her ankle,” Apollo observed, as he tried to figure out she was doing to her foot. He thought he saw a glint of silver, right before she popped back up with a tiny pistol in her hand.
“Would this do for a defensive maneuver?” she asked, still a little breathless. Gilberto started laughing, while the little imp grinned at him with a look of utter satisfaction on her face. “Maybe distract my opponent with my terrible ginga before I pull out Juana Inés?”
Of course she’d named her damned pistol after a radical, sapphist nun.
“Why didn’t you say you have a pistol?” he asked, struggling not to laugh, especially when Gilberto began rolling around in the grass.
She lifted a shoulder, then slid the weapon back into her boot. “Because I don’t plan on ever using it, unless I absolutely must.”
“Can you shoot it?” It was not an absurd question, as she had no coordination that he could see from her sparring.
She scoffed, all offended pride. “Who do you think taught Luz Alana to use hers?” His sister-in-law infamously carried around a flask and pistol under her dress. He’d mocked Evan for his obsession with that fact, now he understood, only too well.
“Then, why agree to the class?” he asked, quietly, not that anyone could hear.
Gilberto was apparently in such a state that he’d crawled out of the pit, likely gone to find Mihn. Which left the two of them alone with only Juana Inés for a chaperone.
Aurora looked up at the sky, then sighed, before returning her gaze to him.
“For one, it was part of our deal,” she reminded him with a surprising lack of acid. “And I liked the idea of becoming stronger.”
“I can understand that.” He truly meant it. Apollo thought of his aunt and the lessons she taught his cousins about being “ladylike,” to not display too much knowledge of a topic in order to allow their suitors their “pride.” Women made themselves fragile creatures so men could feel strong. Aurora Montalban did not care about men’s fragilities.
“Can I ask you a question?” There was a hesitation in her voice that seemed utterly wrong coming from her.
“Of course.” He dipped his head and braced for something potentially scathing.
“Where did Gilberto go?” she asked, looking to the closed doors of the patio.
“Probably off to find Mihn,” Apollo said, and she nodded. He knew that could not be the question. “They’ll be a while.” The confirmation seemed to scare and bolster her at once.
“Would you be interested—” she began, then stopped herself. She fidgeted and slid her hands into the pockets of her skirts.
“Would I be interested…?” he urged, when she seemed to become engrossed by the flickering light of the torches.
“I…” She bit her bottom lip in unusual diffidence. For a second, he thought she might not continue. But then he saw the Fiera return. She straightened her shoulders and tipped that pert chin up at him. “I would be interested in another kind of lesson, in addition to the self-defense instruction, which I would like for Gilberto to do. You fluster me.” He opened his mouth to ask something appropriately inflammatory, but she paid him back by covering his mouth with her hand.
“I refuse to go into details about your effect on my person.” Even in the torchlight, he could see the flush on her cheeks. Control was beyond him in that moment. He risked pressing the very tip of his tongue to her hand. She made a hissing sound, her eyes going wide, and languid. He licked again, and she made a needy little sound before removing her hand.
“What kind of lessons?” He knew the answer, but it seemed tonight he, too, wanted to test his fortitude. She played with that bottom lip again, until he considered pinching himself to keep from pawing at her like a rabid animal.
“Sexual lessons,” she stated with finality, never breaking eye contact, while Apollo did a mental assessment of which horizontal surface he could conscript into service in the next sixty seconds.
“Like the night you came to me?” he asked, needing to set the expectations. He was perilously close to begging, and he wanted to delay that humiliating display as long as possible.
But she shook her head, denying his question.
“No, I want…” She looked to the heavens again, then back at him. “I want more.” She shook her head after that, then emitted a sound of frustration. “ Physically more. That night, it made me realize I don’t know my body very well,” she admitted, bravely. “I’d like to explore what brings me pleasure.”
“I will give you anything you want, Fiera.”
She exhaled, a shaky sound, then pinned him with one of those fierce stares. He could almost see a barrier forming around her. “Anything but emotions, and we stop when you select your bride.”
He should rejoice that this woman was offering him exactly what he should want, in exactly the manner that would be most convenient to him. But for some reason the entire thing made him furious.
“What is so unsavory about emotions?”
She seemed almost confused by his question. “Neither of us have any use for them.” She wasn’t wrong, and still he felt slighted. “I won’t marry anyone, and you must marry well. This could be a diversion.”
All of it so perfectly fucking sensible.
He’d have her for a few weeks. He’d enjoy her as long as he could and then he’d do his duty. It was ideal. Truly he couldn’t have asked for a more favorable arrangement, but for the first time in his life, Apollo didn’t want to stay the course. He didn’t want to do what would serve him in the long run, he wanted all of her, even if he could never keep her.
This would not end well. He was walking into some kind of trap. He didn’t know which of them was setting it, but it would have them both dangling by their ankles over an alligator pit soon enough.
He’d always liked his trophies. Things he could flaunt in front of others to assert his prowess, the many ways in which he was better, faster, stronger, smarter. An abandoned, motherless boy showing the world he was not merely their equal, but their better. But those trophies had never been for himself, they were for the benefit of those he sought to humble.
Aurora would be his secret. The prickly, censorious doctor who behind closed doors became his Fiera. The one thing he wanted, not for duty or retribution, but purely because he could not help himself.
Oh, to hell with it.
He lunged at her, lifted her off the ground and pressed her against the nearest wall in seconds.
“I didn’t mean now,” she protested, even as she wrapped her short legs around his waist. “Someone will come.”
“Gilberto and Mihn are probably engaged in the very thing I hope to be doing in the next minute, if you cooperate,” he said with his teeth scraping along her neck.
Her hands stopped gripping his shoulders for a second, and she looked up at him. “Mihn and Gilberto are a couple?” He didn’t expect any disapproval from her given her support of Manuela and Cora’s relationship, and he was not disappointed. There was only curiosity, and maybe a little wistfulness, in her eyes.
“Yes,” he said, before biting her bottom lip.
“That’s wonderful.” She sighed as he licked the seam of her mouth, and his hands squeezed her still gloriously voluminous rump.
“I’m glad you think so, Fiera,” he told her, as he pressed kisses to her neck.
“Not you,” she protested breathlessly as she ran her hands over his bare back and shoulders. “I meant them, although your muscles are quite impressive.” She followed this by latching her mouth to his. He groaned into the kiss, sliding his tongue along hers.
“I look forward to showing you my other impressive parts.” She huffed a laugh and reached for him again. Just as he started to devise a plan to have her right on the ledge of the pit, the door slammed open.
“Gilberto, if you value your life—” he growled, beyond frustration. There was shuffling of feet behind him, preceded by a very loud slam to the patio doors.
Like him, Aurora’s breaths were coming fast, he could feel the heat against his bare chest. He thought she’d be upset at being found out, but after a moment what sounded like laughter drifted up to him. She didn’t laugh very much, this very serious woman. It seemed to him like a great accomplishment to be the cause of it.
That emotion was suddenly interrupted by a much more pressing one when a hot little tongue began lapping at his chest.
“What are you doing, sweetheart?” He could barely make the words from how tightly he was grinding his teeth.
“You’re salty,” she told him between laps of her tongue while his cock jumped in his trousers. She lifted her eyes to him while she left wet trails on his skin.
“You like to taste, don’t you?” he asked, huskily, and she nodded. “I have more things for that mouth of yours to try.” Something hot flashed in her eyes, and she bit down again. This time it was more pleasure than pain. He needed a bed, he needed walls, he needed a door with a lock.
“Let me take you to my rooms,” he told her, as his hands kneaded her rump.
“I didn’t mean we’d start tonight,” she told him distractedly, before tracing a wet line between his pectorals. Was he supposed to go merrily on his way after having his chest bitten and licked? “If I’d had you as a model, I would’ve had the best marks in anatomy class.”
“What?” he asked, panting as she followed her observation with a love bite on his collarbone.
“I like your body,” she told him, in a tone that implied he was being obtuse and irritating.
He was trembling from her touch, lost in her already. He was supposed to be the one seducing her. But with a few flicks of her tongue, he was practically on his knees.
“Aurora,” he whispered, as her hands began drifting down his chest. “Aurora,” he insisted when one of the hands breached inside his trousers.
“Yes?” she asked, innocently.
“I need you to understand something,” he explained, taking her errant hands in his. “I intend to take you out of this studio, put you in my carriage, take you to my den of iniq uity.” He used her own words to hopefully drive the message across more succinctly. “There I plan to have you on every surface.” She inhaled sharply at that, her eyes glowing with intrigue at the prospect.
His voracious girl.
“That sounds very tiring,” she mused, wiggling her nose.
“I intend to thoroughly exhaust you,” he confirmed. “I’ll take you right against the door,” he told her. “Lift your skirts and sink inside.” The sounds she made. Like he was reciting the sweetest poetry. “Then I’m going to strip all your clothes off, lay you on the table and lick your concha until you cry out my name.” She pressed into him, her hot breath searing his chest.
“What else?” she asked so quietly he could barely hear her.
“Then I’ll take you to my bed and fuck you until the sun comes up.” He was practically vibrating with need.
“I look forward to it,” she said amiably, then pulled away, quickly moving out of the way when he reached for her. “I’ll come to you this evening.” This woman was so damned slippery. He was never on steady ground with Aurora. One minute she was fire in his arms. Hot enough to scorch and the next she was primly dusting her skirts as if they’d been discussing the weather. It was enough to drive a man mad.
“It is evening,” he told her. It was barely seven, but that was good enough.
She shook her head as if that simply would not do, then plucked a timepiece out of her pocket.
“I will see you in your rooms then.”
“Aurora,” he warned, contemplating simply putting her over his shoulders and running off with her.
“I must bathe,” she said, gesturing to her stained and wet clothes.
“ I’ll bathe you,” he offered, almost shivering at the idea of running a sponge all over her as she writhed in pleasure.
“That sounds lovely,” she said in a strangled voice. “But I much prefer doing so myself. I promise I will come to you.”
She would disappear, never to be seen again, and he would combust from lust. At this point, he didn’t think he could even become aroused by a woman unless she was wearing frumpy wool and reeked of carbolic.
“You will take my carriage.” He used his most authoritative tone, well aware of the fact that it had absolutely no effect on her. Miraculously, she relented.
“I will need an hour,” she retorted with her hands on her hips. “You’ve agitated me, and I must clear my head.”
“You were the one licking and biting my chest merely a minute earlier,” he drawled, which was received with a nasty look.
“I was hungry,” she huffed, but her lips were tipped up. Then she turned around and began to walk toward the door.
She was luminescent after sweating and sparring with him, and just then, he finally saw her for what she was. A diamond hiding in plain sight. A treasure no one had been smart enough to claim.
“One hour, Doctora,” he called out as he chased her down the corridor. It seemed this would be the way things went with them. Aurora setting on a path and Apollo loping behind her in an attempt to keep up.
“One hour, Your Grace,” she echoed over her shoulder, smoldering him with those brown eyes. Brown like melting chocolate, like a good café de manana. Dark and strong, waking up his blood, making it roar.
“One hour,” he echoed as he shut the door to his carriage. She nodded, squeezing his hand for a moment, before letting go.
No one could’ve told Apollo as he watched his conveyance drive into the wayward Parisian sunset with Aurora Montalban in tow, that by morning, the tightly held reins of his life would be irrevocably in her hands.