Chapter 45
Chapter Forty-Five
Eve liked her new sister-in-law, Alex, very much.
She was sweet but not at all subservient.
Eve wondered at her ability with the sword.
She had never seen a woman warrior before, and Eve looked forward to watching her spar.
She delighted at the mention that Alex and her husband, Philippe, often sparred with each other.
What a way to get out frustrations, Eve mused.
They spent the day watching Eve’s family set up their yurts around the palace.
Alex showed her the Chevalerie gardens and all her favorite spots in the palace.
The greenery was much different than her home.
It was softer, smoother. The breeze on the hilltop did not attack her but rather brushed past in a hurry.
From everything she saw, she already loved France.
Philippe lingered around them, not seeming too happy about losing his wife to this assignment of chaperone, but Alex would calm him and send him away.
Her father’s proclamation that she must have a chaperone, Eve knew, at this point was purely ornamental.
He had to make his final stand and complete Eve’s punishment for getting herself pregnant before marriage.
He refused to drop the importance of it.
But oh, how she had been humiliated in front of her new family members and at the palace where she would one day be the mistress.
She had come all this way to be scolded by her father in front of an audience.
At the end of the day, Eve lay in bed in what would be her room until she and Michel were married.
She had been bathed and dressed in her night clothes by excited maids, while Alex made her laugh with stories of Michel and his brothers.
Now, Alex lay on the bed, still dressed, as she had not yet prepared for bed, telling Eve the story of how she and Philippe had come to marry.
Eve enjoyed hearing that these brothers had a tradition of showing up with an unexpected bride.
“So, perhaps it was not a great surprise that Michel showed up with me?”
“Michel showing up with a bride is a surprise. He’s always said he would only marry when it ‘suited his position,’” she said in a mocking tone. Alex tucked her hands together under her chin. “Now we will wait for Serge to come off the seas with a bride. That will be the true miracle.”
Eve felt warmth for all these new people. “I know Michel must be overwhelmed with all of this,” she said. “He is so used to being in charge of everything.”
“It is good for him to lose some of his control, especially to his wife,” Alex continued. “Marriage is a constant battle to be on top.” She grinned.
Eve smiled at her new friend. She was about to say how happy she was to have met Alex when she heard something like a grunt from outside and metal scraping against stone. Alex perked up and gave her a mischievous wink.
“What’s that?” Eve asked.
Alex just leaned over and gave Eve a quick kiss on the cheek. “I pledged to your father I would protect you, but I think someone else can do it better, at least during the night.” Then she hopped up to scurry to the window. She pulled the curtains aside.
Eve sat straight up. Suddenly, she saw Michel hoist himself through the window.
“Thank you, Alex,” he said, running his hand up the back of his head. “I’m not as used to sneaking around this place as you and Philippe.”
She snorted a laugh as he gave her a hug. “Anytime, Michel.” She turned back to Eve. “Goodnight!” she called in a whisper as she scooted out of the window. Then, to someone outside, “I am being careful.” Then again, “Philippe, just hold on.”
Eve heard their laughter as it disappeared into the night.
Then she was alone, for the first time, with the man she would marry. Michel.
The emotion of it struck her like a horse whip. She looked at him, feeling her hands shake and her skin tingle. She wanted him so badly, and he had been so near, but utterly untouchable for so long.
“I only came here to be with you,” he said. He held out his hands to prove his innocence. “We don’t have to do anything.”
“Are you insane?” She leapt out of bed and ran to him. She threw her hands around his neck and blanketed him with kisses.
“Are you sure?” he laughed. Even as he did, he pulled her closer to him. His hands squeezed into her hips, and she could feel his heat through the thin layer of her night clothes. “The wedding—” he trailed off.
“Please don’t make me wait any longer,” she whispered against his lips.
Then Michel grinned wickedly at her and picked her up. “Thank God.”
He moved her to the bed and set her down gently, but Eve was up on her knees in an instant, pulling furiously on his shirt while he threw off as much as he could. He ran his fingers across her body. She tingled where his fingertips touched.
He pulled his shirt over his head, removed his belt, and his shoes.
He dropped his pants, and they were both in only their undergarments.
Then he came up on the bed behind her. He kneeled behind her, with his front against her back as he pulled her shift up over her head.
She could feel the rigidity of his body, his muscles, the thick length of him.
She had his spicy scent all around her, his warmth already penetrating. She wanted everything now, right now.
She turned to urge him forward. Michel held her in place. “Slowly,” he coaxed.
She groaned and turned again to attack him.
“Slowly,” he repeated, his hands firm on her.
She groaned but conceded to let him take his time and touch her.
With his hard body behind her, his hands on her front, he ran them over her thighs and up over her hips. He paused over her belly, which had only slightly expanded at this point. “It feels different,” he said in awe. “It’s firm.”
“Yes, I know,” she hurried her words. “Faster, Michel,” she pleaded. “Now, take me now.”
Michel just laughed softly in her ear and continued moving his hands up her body, using his touch to tease her—his breath in her ear, his lips on her neck. Eve could barely take it.
She threw her arms back around his neck, urging his hands onto her breasts. “Michel,” she begged.
“Slowly,” he replied in a whisper. Now she could hear his own voice becoming raspy. She hoped it meant he wouldn’t make her wait too much longer.
He slipped his hands up her skin and gripped her breasts. The contact caused her to groan and fall back against him, pressing herself into his hands. She gasped for breath. So did he.
“Michel,” she said, her legs weakening as she fell against him. “Please.”
“Would you like me to hurry up?” he whispered against her ear, a tease in his voice.
“Yes, please.” She swallowed. “Anything. Do something.”
Then Michel moved around to face her. He grabbed her hips and lay her down across the bed.
He gave her that wicked smile she loved so much.
Eve reached for him with both her arms and legs, trying to pull him into her as fast as she could.
He dropped his head and found her breast, sucking her nipple into his mouth as he made the other one pebble with his fingers.
She arched into his touch. Then he switched the motion, trading mouth for hand, hand for mouth.
Eve moved her hips up to feel him, wanting pressure between her legs.
She felt like she might implode waiting for him.
She felt him grinning as he traveled down her navel, drawing circles with his tongue. She could do nothing more than wait.
Then his hands were on her undergarments, pulling them down. The cool air hit her, but it was quickly replaced by his warm, wet tongue, swiping right up her center.
Eve gripped the quilt and arched up off the bed.
“Easy,” Michel chuckled. He touched his tongue against her, causing Eve to moan again.
Her mind had gone mute. There were only the sensations in her body causing her to twist and writhe beneath him. She bucked her hips up against him, only to be held down by his strong hands.
She wouldn’t think again, couldn’t, until she had this release. She had needed him, dreamed about him, cried because of him, fought for him in the time they had been apart, and now she needed to feel him. She reached into his hair, begging for relief.
Just as she was ready to crest the wave and explode into a thousand sunsets, she realized Michel had slowed, his kisses became too tender, his touch too soft.
She looked at him, and he gave her a lazy smile as he licked her wetness up. “Slowly,” he drawled.
“Michel,” she scolded, angry. “If you continue to tease me, I swear I will scream.”
“No!” he laughed. “I’ll be good.” And he returned to her sweet spots.
This time, Eve felt his finger slide inside her.
As he curled it into her, he took a heavy stroke with his tongue.
It took just seconds of feeling all his attention on her, and Eve was back at the edge.
Her breath caught, and she threw her head back.
She felt the wave overtake her as Michel continued manipulating her until she had no order or control over her movements.
The pleasure throbbed through her, centering on the places he touched her.
After she caught her breath, she found his eyes again as he kissed her thighs and stomach. He held her around the waist and nuzzled into her navel with a groan.
“Eve,” he moaned. He looked up at her.
Her body still ached, wanting more, wanting all of him. But she calmed herself. They needed this moment of softness. “Yes, my love,” she said, reaching down to caress his cheek.
Michel pulled himself up. He rested his hands on either side of her. They stared at each other. Eve could see he was working out things to say to her, but she knew what he felt.
“You thought you had lost me?” Eve said to him.
He put his forehead against her and nodded while he still held his body above her.
“You didn’t think we would ever come together again,” she continued.
“No,” he breathed. “It terrified me. When you got me out of the cell, I hope you know, I never once thought to leave. I was there the whole time. I would have died trying to get back to you.”
She reached her hands up and wrapped them around his neck. “I know that now,” she said, resolutely. “I should never have sent you away.”
“It scared me how quickly nothing else mattered to me. Only you.” Then he smiled. “I hope I can still function now that I have you in my life.”
“Michel,” she murmured. She pulled him to her, letting her lips touch his, tasting herself on him. “We have it all to figure out, together.”
He kissed her, their lips and tongues coming together past the slick layer her orgasm had left on him. She had never imagined sharing so much of herself with a man, but here she was. And she couldn’t be happier.
That is, until her body couldn’t take it any longer.
Suddenly, she slapped her arms down on the bed. “Now, Michel, please take me before I lose my mind.”
He needed no more provocation. “Siren,” he growled, drawing the word out between his teeth.
He spread her legs apart and lined himself up against her.
She angled toward him, wild with want. She almost couldn’t stand it.
She felt his stiff cock at the base of her, and then with a growl and a bite to her neck, he was fully inside her.
Eve groaned and fell back onto the pillows, her body arching up and her head going back, full with him.
It felt different somehow. Her body had changed since the last time they were together.
After the intensity of the last orgasm, she felt even more sensitive.
When he finally pushed all the way in until her body wouldn’t let him go any further, she knew if he stayed just a second longer, she would orgasm right there and then.
But Michel pulled back.
“Michel,” she hissed.
“Greedy girl,” he growled, and he did it again, repeating the same slow, agonizing movement.
Every nerve in her body reacted. She wrapped her legs around him. This time, when he was all the way in, she held him, wanting to orgasm, not wanting to wait.
“Slowly,” he whispered, delighted, against her lips. He pulled out again, leaving Eve’s body shuddering with wild want.
She groaned loudly, then threw her head back and laughed. She gave herself over. He had control of her now. He had found her. He had saved her. He had come to her and brought her home, and he would marry her soon. She’d let him have control.
Her surrender seemed to be all he wanted, and she saw his face change.
His body moved quicker, his pace gave new intensity.
He leaned in and kissed her. He held her lips while he moved into her again, joining them in the most delicious way.
The friction unfurled inside her, and she felt her body doubling back and rebuilding.
She would wait for him, let him take his time, knowing they belonged to each other.
“Yes, yes,” she urged. She moaned loudly as his movements came more quickly.
“Eve.” He grunted. “Quiet.” He put his hand over her mouth.
She bit him.
“Ah!” he pulled back and shook his hand.
Eve laughed. He didn’t have complete control over her.
“You’re too much,” he said before kissing her once more.
Michel's chest rumbled with sounds of pleasure, and she let only small gasps and moans escape her lips. Then Michel took one of her legs and threw it over his shoulder. He moved in her, deep and desperate. The new angle caused Eve to throw her head back. Michel moved forcefully, endlessly.
Eve clung to him. She arched forward, and on a wave of tension, she felt Michel’s pleasure meeting hers.
He gasped and grunted, and the tension caused her own orgasm to release, rocketing through her in a way that had her arching up off the bed.
Her hips continued to move against him, her body still seeking contact.
She kissed his shoulder and his neck as he relaxed on top of her.
As everything subsided, she became aware that they were kissing, slow and steady and calm. They were no longer running, she realized. They were there.
“Now,” he said with a laugh as he rolled to the side, taking her with him. He ran his hand down her side and kissed her neck. “I just have to make sure your father doesn’t catch me leaving your room in the morning.”
“Indeed, Michel,” she replied. “There won’t be a rock big enough.”