Chapter Ten #2
“Indeed. I will be there, my lady.” He kissed her hand. She noted Evan’s clenched jaw in the moonlight and laughed to herself. At least there was some victory in the exchange for her.
Once they were out of earshot from Weatherby, she spoke where only he could hear. “What are you playing at?”
“Just meet me in the salon down from the retiring room. Please.” He stepped away from her and sauntered across the room in that direction.
Did she even wish to speak with him? She knew she did, even if she would have denied the truth to his face. He still vexed her, but she needed to know what he was after.
If her curiosity wasn’t enough, she saw her father and Minto scanning the ballroom floor, knowing they were looking for her. She looked away and took off in the direction Evan had departed.
She reached the room he directed her to and closed the door. Her breath caught seeing him, and she hated she still had such a vehement reaction to the man. It was inconvenient when she needed a solution to her Minto problem, and it wouldn’t involve Evan.
“I wasn’t sure if you would come,” he said softly.
“I wasn’t sure if I would, either.”
He took a few steps closer to her. “Why did you?”
She shrugged one shoulder. “Better than speaking with Minto. Why did you wish for me to join you here?”
“Weatherby isn’t for you, Marina.”
Rolling her eyes, she planted her hands on her hips. This man was too much. “You seem to think you have any say in my life.”
“He will never be faithful,” he said. “His mistress will warm his bed tonight.”
“Perhaps I don’t require a faithful husband.
Married to the right man, I would be awarded more freedom than I have with my father.
My freedom is far more important to me than the illusion of anything more,” she lied.
It would irritate her to no end to deal with an unfaithful husband, but she was short on options.
She once believed she wanted more with Evan, but perhaps what she felt then and when she looked at him now were just moments of passion and nothing more.
The pounding of her heart told her otherwise.
“I don’t think that is true,” he challenged. “I think you desire much more than that. The life you thought you and I might have together.”
“You forget you treated me cruelly and called me temporary.”
He closed the distance between them with slow, intentional steps. “Marina, I didn’t mean that.”
She crossed her arms. “Then how exactly am I supposed to ascertain between what are lies and what are truths?”
“You were going to let Weatherby kiss you, weren’t you?” He was standing before her, with only the slightest gap between them. There was a tinge of hurt in his tone when he asked the question.
Marina didn’t move away from him, only raised her chin. “I was,” she stated. “He will call on me tomorrow, and I’ll have a chance again without your interference.”
“Marina.” He closed his eyes, wincing as if she had slapped him. “Will you please allow me to kiss you? If you still want to kiss Weatherby afterward, I shan’t interfere again.”
She pondered his question. Her hatred for him felt lighter and further from her thoughts, but she didn’t trust him. She would be lying to herself if she said she didn’t want to kiss him, but she didn’t want to risk letting him in again, only for him to cast her aside.
Then her body spoke for her, leaning closer to him until her chest pressed against his.
“Is that a yes?” he asked, his voice a whisper.
She nodded.
That was the only invitation he needed, and he wrapped his arms around her.
Brushing his lips against hers, he urged her to open to him.
She met his kiss and took control, massaging her tongue against his.
His groan grew louder, and she intensified her actions, relishing in the power she had to elicit such a response from him.
His hand cupped her bottom and pulled her against his cock, and she recalled the hard, velvety feel of it when she’d stroked him.
The recollection of their time together sent heat coursing through her veins, and she undulated against him.
He growled and swept her off her feet, carrying her to the nearby settee, not breaking their kiss. Setting her down, he hovered over her. He slid his hand under the hem of her gown until he reached her core, brushing his finger across her sensitive pearl. “Do you want me to kiss you here?”
Her breath caught in her throat and her head rolled back.
“Tell me you want my kiss, and I will replace my finger with my tongue.” He stilled his hand and waited for her direction. “But you must tell me.”
Her core was on fire. Her breathing was ragged, and she wanted his wicked offering more than she wanted air, even if it made her nothing more than a wanton. “Yes. Please, Evan.”
He knelt to the floor, so he was positioned between her legs. She trembled when he lifted her skirts, and the cool air heightened the anticipation of what he was about to do.
“I have missed the taste of you,” he confessed. Clasping her bottom, he pulled her closer to the edge of the settee. He massaged her thighs and pushed them further apart before dipping his head between her legs. He brushed his tongue against her center and she cried out.
He paused but didn’t look up. “Isn’t this so much better than hate, love?
” Giving her no time to respond or retort, he flicked his tongue against her nub again.
Her hands shot to his head, and she plunged her fingers into his hair.
Slipping his tongue lower, he slid it inside her and she came undone taste by wicked taste.
Marina could only moan and mumble in response to his attention, unable to speak actual words.
Evan licked and nipped and refocused his tongue’s attention on her pearl.
With a single finger, he entered her, eliciting a pleasurable moan and prompting her to grind her body into his finger.
“You are so wet and taste so sweet.” As he moved his finger in and out of her core, she felt an overwhelming sensation building within her.
“Do you want me to make you come, love?”
She nodded.
He flicked his tongue a single time against her nub. “I want to hear you say it.”
She desired it above all else. “Make me come, Evan,” she said, her voice low and gravely.
He growled before working his tongue against her, and she cried out his name. Another finger joined the first inside her, and she arched her back. “I’m going to drink every last drop.”
She moaned at his words and he covered her nub with his tongue, resuming licking and sucking that would send her over the edge.
The wicked thoughts returned, longing for more. She imagined his cock sliding into the place where his fingers worked her core and longed for the warmth of this body tangled with hers.
Undulating against his hand and mouth, the intensity grew.
He reached his free hand for hers and laced their fingers together, holding her hand while he continued his efforts to pleasure her.
The electricity from the gesture and the feel of his hand in hers made her shatter. She convulsed and cried out his name.
He didn’t relent, pulling every wave of her climax from her body, slipping his tongue inside of her, lapping up the proof of her climax. She went limp and couldn’t move, exhausted from the sensation.
He righted her skirts before pulling her against him to kiss her, still on his knees between her legs. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she held him close to her and deepened their kiss. She tasted herself on his tongue, and it ignited all her wicked, wanton thoughts again.
Breaking the kiss, he pulled her to stand. “As much as I would love to pleasure you again and again, we must return. Surely someone is missing you by now.”
“My father, no doubt.”
“I need to see you,” he said. “There is so much I need to say. Tomorrow?” He stared into her eyes, intensity radiating from him.
Frowning, she stepped back from him. “I’ve heard this from you before, Evan.” How could she let herself consider any other outcome besides heartbreak if she let herself continue to get close to him?
He cringed. “Marina, please. Can you find a way to forgive me? This pull between us…I know you feel it, too.”
“That’s never been the concern, Evan,” she said. “I can’t trust you.”
He clasped her hand in his. “Let me see you tomorrow.”
She sighed. “Very well. Come for tea, and then we shall take a stroll in the gardens. We can speak then.” She wanted to believe him. Her heart yearned for the belief that he genuinely cared about her and held remorse for what transpired between them a year ago.
He pulled her hand to his lips and kissed her palm. “Thank you.”
Marina’s heart flipped, and she knew she wasn’t just playing with fire, she was dancing with it. She only hoped she wouldn’t get burned this time, even as she invited it to engulf her. She started to leave, but his voice stopped her.
“Do you still wish to kiss Weatherby?” The pain and trepidation evident in his tone.
She turned and contemplated what to say. Did she throw a barb with the intent to hurt him or speak the truth?
“I never wished to kiss Weatherby,” she said, opting for the latter.
Before he could respond, she snuck out of the salon and rejoined Hannah and Tabitha. As much as she tried not to, she couldn’t help but watch Evan when he returned to the ballroom. He approached a beautiful dark-haired woman, older than him, to be sure, but still lovely for her age.
Realization washed over her. She recognized the woman. She was the woman she saw kissing her father on the porch of their hunting cabin. The woman looped her arm in Evan’s, and they started toward the exit.
“Tabitha,” she asked, “who is that with Evan?”
Tabitha laughed. “Jealous, are we, Marina?”
Marina gritted her teeth. “I recognize her from somewhere. Will you just answer the question? I am far from jealous,” she ground out.
That wasn’t true. Jealousy was certainly a factor. But she was also disgusted if the man intended to have a tryst after what had just occurred between them, and even worse, if he were to take a woman to bed that her father had been with. Her stomach churned and her heart sank.
“Well, I should hope not. The woman is his mother.” Tabitha patted her arm and smirked.
She should have been relieved that Evan might actually be hers. But there were still questions to be answered. Starting with…How long had Evan’s mother been having an affair with her father?