Chapter Twelve #2
“About a year and a half.” He wished their positions were reversed so he could kiss and nip every inch of her legs, but he would save that treat for another time.
So he contented himself with gliding his fingertips over her skin.
“However, within that period of time, I met and then subsequently fell in love with a woman in one of the tiny villages I was searching through in pursuit of the spy we referred to as the Jackal.”
Evvie’s soft moans of approval urged him onward, and he grinned to himself. She was so responsive to his touch. It both flattered and humbled him.
“What happened to her? Why did you not marry her?”
Sorrow and anger tightened his chest. Damn, he’d thought he’d put all of that behind him, but apparently not.
“I wanted to wed her; she was my ideal woman in every conceivable way, and her father was English.” As he spoke, Michael concentrated on the softness of her skin, the way she smelled, the heat of her as her back pressed into his front.
Anything to take his mind off the story.
“One of my enemies discovered the relationship. They poisoned her to ensure that I would cease tracking them.” A ragged cry left his throat.
“I’d broken the first rule of being a spy—never get involved with anyone for any reason. ”
Her fingers tightened on his knee. “Keep going.”
“One night, I came to her cottage expecting to share dinner with her, but instead I found her on the floor in a puddle of vomit and blood, dead at least two days.” It might break him to tell her more stories, but perhaps it was good for him to share.
When he brushed his fingers through the curls hiding her sex and she spread open her thighs, she trembled in his hold.
“A broken wine bottle was nearby. A cat was also dead at her side; it had no doubt ingested the same poison.”
“Good heavens, that’s terrible.” So much horror went through her outburst he was hurtled right back to that scene, where he’d felt the same things. “I was inconsolable. Wanted to kill every damned person in that village as retribution, for someone must have betrayed our relationship.”
“You didn’t, did you?” Then a moan left her throat, for he hadn’t stopped his caresses.
“I did not. Instead, I concentrated on the mission in front of me. When that one was finished, I moved onto the next, buried myself in my work, so I would forget.” He lightly bit her earlobe then sucked and soothed that fleshy bit.
“I’ll wager you never managed that; you must have loved her quite fiercely to invoke that sort of reaction.” Emotion graveled her voice. Was she jealous that he’d given that woman his heart where he never could for her?
What is wrong with me?
“It was a defining moment in my life. I knew in that moment I’d never let anyone close again, both for their safety and my sanity.” As she tried to twist around to see him, he tsked his tongue. “I won’t apologize. It is how a spy lives his life.”
“I’m sorry.”
“So am I. After that, I focused my rage on the Jackal.”
“Was he responsible for killing the woman you loved?”
“From all I could gather, yes. Finding him became my only purpose in life.” Still was.
After giving one of her nipples a pinch that had her gasping, he delved his hand beneath the pillow.
Seconds later he withdrew the wooden phallus that was sheathed in a thin covering of supple leather that didn’t compromise the shape of the shaft nor change the integrity of the tool’s stones.
“Perhaps that is why I need control in various aspects of my life.”
She frowned. “What is that?”
“An Italian diletto. Basically, it aids in pleasure during sexual intercourse. Of course, most people think the use of such is deranged or scandalously unsavory.” He rubbed the leather over a nipple so she could see what he intended, then drew the object down her torso, over the fabric of her nightdress, to rest it on her mons.
“Would you like for me to employ this on you?”
“I’m willing to experiment.” She guided his free hand back to her breast. “Please.”
“Very well.” The word broke through the last of his reserve. “Imagine it’s me, moving inside you,” he whispered into her ear.
With a nod, she briefly held her bottom lip between her teeth. “Did you ever find the Jackal?”
“I did not.” He couldn’t keep the annoyance from his voice.
“I convinced myself that being alone was what I deserved, especially after that last mission. The one I failed at, the one that resulted in Prinny’s disavowal.
” Breath shuddered from him. “Perhaps there is nothing else for me except the darkness. Even in my soul.”
“Don’t think like that. There is nothing wrong in failing. It’s how we learn.”
He snorted. “Until society and the government turns their backs. It is hardly fair after the service to King and Country I gave.” As he spoke, Michael circled the phallus tip around her the swollen button between her thighs and then slid it down, resting it at her entrance.
Making certain he held it in a firm grip by the wooden stones, with a flick of his hand, he penetrated her as deep as he could go.
With a cry, her back arched. “How does that feel? If it’s uncomfortable, we’ll stop.
” He had no idea what such a device would feel like on sensitive flesh, but if she enjoyed it—
“Please continue.” She touched a hand to his, pressing it against her body, holding the toy inside her as her breath came in pants. “It’s not as soft as your shaft, but it’s… lovely all the same.”
“Good.” He moved his hand, sliding the phallus in and out until he found a rhythm he liked, and she enjoyed.
Once he’d become accustomed to it, he let himself relax and watch Evvie’s face.
With each stroke, he’d roll or pinch her nipple.
Sometimes he’d kiss her neck, nibble the soft skin.
When she lifted her hips to match his thrusting, his breath caught.
In his mind’s eye, he saw himself stroking into her in this very bed as she writhed behind him.
God, he wanted her. His chest tightened.
Heat spread through his body, but he ignored the throbbing in his shaft; this night wasn’t for him.
As he worked her over with the phallus, he slid his other hand down to play with her swollen bud, further bringing her to the brink with exquisite torture.
“Oh, heavens…” She bucked her hips against his hand. “Oh!” She sucked in a breath, no doubt in anticipation of shouting her pleasure, but at the last second, she turned her head, pressed her face into his neck as her body shuddered and she shattered in his arms.
A rush of affection rolled over him. He held her close while she came down from her release. “How many times do I need to remind you that I want to hear you scream as I send you over?” After he removed the phallus from her passage, he let it drop to the floor.
“Do shut up, Darkemore,” she whispered as she turned in his arms. Evvie snaked a hand around his nape and drew him down for a lingering kiss.
When she pulled away, she smiled. “I rather enjoyed that.” Her chignon was all but destroyed, allowing some of her blonde tresses to tumble about her shoulders.
Already she had the look of a woman who’d been thoroughly ruined.
“Perhaps you’ll employ that on me again? ”
“I will.” Perhaps he wasn’t as useless as a husband as he’d thought. When a tiny piece of his heart flew into her keeping, he gasped, for he’d never expected that to happen. “You should know that I will never stop searching for the Jackal.”
“What will you do if you find him?”
“Kill him. Put a damned ball through his heart.” There was no other choice.
“Even after all this time?” She searched his face with her gaze, but it was too dark in the room to read her expression.
“Especially now.” Of course, she didn’t know what he did. What would she do when she discovered Echerson was the Jackal, and that she was two steps away from danger merely because she’d married him?
“And once that objective has been reached?” The fingers of one hand dug into his shoulder, bringing with them a bit of pain.
As much as he admired her directness, he also dreaded it.
“I don’t know.” But that was a lie, for he would return to Cornwall and invite the darkness to carry him off.
After everything he’d done, after every man and woman he’d killed in the name of England’s interests, after everything he would still do, why should be given leave to chase a happily ever after?
Never had he hated his past more than he did in this moment.