Jeweled (19 page)

She grinned. “Are you, really?”

He grinned back at her and something light and free fluttered through her chest. Joy? “You know what that means.” His hand moved up and down on her thigh suggestively, the heat from his palm warming her skin through the material of her skirt.

She went breathless for a moment. “I can guess,” she murmured, dropping her mouth to his.

She kissed him slowly, first his lower lip and then his top, running her tongue along the seam of his mouth until he groaned and opened for her. His hand caught and held at the back of her neck, forcing her face down to his so he could spear his tongue into the depths of her mouth.

Heat caught and flared to life in her belly. She moaned against his mouth, feeling the jut of his cock against her softness where she straddled him. “Are you sure you’re well enough for this?” she whispered against his lips, breathless.

“I need to feel you, Evangeline. That will mend me better than anything.”

His fingers loosened the buttons of her dress bodice, exposing her bare breasts. He palmed them and then brought each rosy nipple to his mouth. With the tip of his tongue, he explored every ridge and valley thoroughly, making her hot and damp between her thighs. Her back arched and her sex swelled with anticipation, her body readying itself for him.

He slid a hand under her skirt and roughly pushed the panel of her panties aside to swipe his fingers over her slick folds. She shuddered against his hand as he speared inside her, her muscles clamping down and milking him. Her breath caught in her throat and came out as a little sob. It had been a long time since she’d felt him inside her and she wanted him so much.

He speared his fingers in and out of her, dragging a ragged groan from her throat as she rolled her head, eyes closed. When she looked down at him, he was gazing up at her with a raw expression of carnal hunger on his face.

She fumbled for the button and zipper on his trousers even as he yanked her skirts up and her panties down. One clumsy, impatient adjustment of clothes had her panties off and his cock free. She sank down onto his shaft, working herself over the crown and down his thick length inch by wonderful inch. When they were finally completely joined, their lingering sighs and groans emanated out into the air of the porch. She stayed that way a long moment, with his cock seated deep inside her, filling every part of her. Then she rose up and down slowly, making them both moan.

Mouths working, she rode him faster, his thick and wide cock tunneling deep into the heart of her and rubbing that place inside where it felt especially good on every downward thrust. His hands found her hips and gripped, guiding her movements. They fell into a perfect rhythm, bodies and mouths fusing into one animal.

“Anatol,” she whispered against his mouth as he stroked her clit with his thumb. “Ah, I’ve missed the feel of you inside me.”

 

 

From inside the doorway off the kitchen, Gregorio clenched a mug of coffee in his hand hard enough to shatter. He’d come home in the middle of the day, something he didn’t do very often these days, and had happened upon Evangeline and Anatol on the porch.

She was magnificent. Her gently bouncing breasts were unbound from her dress’s bodice, kissed and covered by Anatol’s hands and mouth. Her well-worshiped nipples were ruby red and rock hard, glistening with saliva. Her hair hung down her back and her eyes were closed as her hips moved up and down on Anatol’s shaft, slowly milking the length of him.

Gregorio wanted to be the man inside her. He wanted to touch and suck on her breasts. He wanted his cock stretching the velvety soft muscles of her pussy, and he wanted to feel her body pulse and explode in orgasm while he stroked her clit and made her come.

It had started in the alley, maybe even before that—maybe it had begun the day he’d seen her at the Temple of Dreams when she’d brought the orphaned child to Lilya. He’d stood in the doorway of the kitchen and listened to her curse the revolution and all the damage it had wrought. He’d thought she was so beautiful.

He was not only fascinated by Evangeline; he was becoming obsessed with her.

The cup cracked in his hand and hot coffee dribbled down his hand. He set the cup down on the counter and turned away, gripping the edge of the table and closing his eyes. There was no reason for him to feel this way about her, but reason and logic didn’t seem to play any sort of role in his emotions.

Many nights after his day was done at Belai, which had been taken over for the People’s New Republic, he headed to the Temple of Dreams and sought out the women there who looked most like her. The ones with long, blond hair and large, soulful gray eyes. The ones with lithe dancers’ bodies that he could lift up against walls and fuck hard and fast, pretending they were Evangeline. It kept his hunger for her at bay, took the barest edge of it off—but it wasn’t enough.

The scent of her hair and skin permeated his house now, taunting him at every corner. The sight of her bare ankle as she turned a corner or the sound of her voice made his cock hard in an instant. Listening to her come apart in Anatol’s arms on the porch right now was driving him insane, yet he couldn’t make himself do the decent thing and move away. This might be as close as he ever got to intimate contact with her. This might be the only time he ever heard the beautiful sound of Evangeline in orgasm.

He remained there, feeling guilty for listening in on the lovers’ tryst.
Blessed Joshui
, he was jealous of Anatol. He closed his eyes, listening to their soft coital aftermath, their low murmurings and kisses, the rustle of clothing being put to rights. Finally, all was silent.

He tore himself away from the counter and fled.

“Gregorio?”

He froze in the doorway of the kitchen, then slowly turned to see Evangeline standing just inside the kitchen.

She tilted her head to the side a little. “Are you all right?”

Could she sense the emotional turmoil inside him? He tried to answer her, but no words came out.

Her gaze went to the coffee cup and then to his face. Her clothes were once again arranged and all that showed of her encounter with Anatol was a slight flush to her face and her mussed hair. She looked beautiful. “Gregorio—”

He cleared his throat, straightening. “I just came home for a break. I’m headed back to the palace now.”

“Oh.” She fidgeted, looked at the coffee cup again. “We never see you, it seems. It feels wrong to stay here when you’re never in residence. I feel like we’ve taken over your home.”

“Things are busy right now, but you’re more than welcome to stay here. Just make yourself at home.” Which, clearly, they were. Jealousy shot through his gut once again. Just once, if he could touch her the way Anatol did . . .

“Perhaps you could make it home for dinner tonight? I mean, you have to eat, don’t you? You might as well do it in your own home. It’s time you took a break, anyway. You look exhausted.”

He hesitated, pushed a hand through his hair. This behavior from her was odd. He thought she hated him, blamed him for the revolution and the beheadings. She’d called him the enemy. He assumed she was only staying here because Anatol had asked her to stay, and perhaps to fleece him a bit—make him pay for what he’d done. His guilt was such that he was happy to let her.

“I’ll try,” he said at last. “Things are finally stabilizing a bit in the new government. It should be fine if I leave a little early.” Of course, that would mean no stop at the Temple of Dreams tonight, and he badly needed it after walking in on that encounter on the porch.

She smiled and he melted. “Good.”

He started to turn away, but stopped. “Evangeline, please tell Anatol that the group of vigilantes who are hunting down escaped nobles and magicked have been more active lately. I know you’re both careful, but please just continue to stay that way. Allow the cook to do the shopping and stay indoors.”

“But they wouldn’t dare touch anyone
you’ve
taken under your wing, would they?” There was a definite note of sarcasm in her voice.

He nodded. “As long as you reside with me, you’re safe. Still, you never know. This group is unstable.”

“Of course. Thank you for the warning. We’ll look forward to seeing you tonight.”

 

 

Evangeline watched Gregorio walk out of the kitchen, wondering just what, exactly, had come over her. Why had she been so kind to him?

He’d looked so harried and disturbed standing there. So . . .
lonely
. When she’d probed his emotions, she’d found jealousy, lust, confusion. She had no idea where all that strong sentiment came from, but it was clear the man was miserable.

Despite the ill feelings she still harbored for the man, she couldn’t say he hadn’t done them a good turn. Sensing how unhappy he was, she’d needed to reach out to him. After all, it was clear he genuinely regretted the aftermath of the revolution. She wanted to keep punishing him for it, but she knew it wasn’t fair.

For as powerful and intelligent as Gregorio was, he had the air of a lost puppy sometimes. That attracted her to him—and attraction was something she did
not
want to feel.

He disappeared into the shadows of the hallway and she went back out onto the porch. Anatol studied her with his keen dark blue eyes. “Was that Gregorio I heard?”

She nodded. “I tried to get him to come home for dinner tonight.”

“Really? I thought you disliked him so much. Why did you do that?”

Shrugging, she gave a little laugh. “I’m not really sure. I’m still trying to figure it out.”

Gregorio came home for dinner.

Anatol watched Evangeline take a sip of her wine and cast a cold glance at Gregorio when the man wasn’t looking. It was clear that her burst of good feeling toward him had long since faded. Gregorio cast looks at Evangeline when she wasn’t looking, too—though his were not cold, not by anyone’s measure.

Gregorio coveted Evangeline; that would be obvious to anyone, even someone who didn’t have the insight into people that he did. He wondered why Evangeline couldn’t feel it, but maybe she could—maybe that was part of why she seemed to detest him so much.

Although Anatol suspected that abhorrence didn’t go very deep. Every exchange between Gregorio and Evangeline seemed heated with an underlying current that had nothing to do with anger.

“More asparagus?” Gregorio offered the plate to Evangeline.

“No, thank you. I’ve had enough,” she responded in an icy tone without looking up from her food.

“You’ve hardly eaten anything.” Gregorio put the plate back down on the table. “And you seem displeased. I came home tonight for dinner as you asked. Should I have stayed away?”

“Of course not. This is your home. We’re only guests here.”

“Then why the change in your attitude toward me? This afternoon you seemed to want me here and now you don’t.”

Anatol put his fork down and watched Evangeline carefully. She raised her head and looked at Gregorio. “I’m trying to be a good guest, Gregorio. You’re putting a roof over our heads and I’m grateful for that.”

Gregorio blinked slowly. “But?”

Evangeline sighed and put her napkin on the table.

“You can’t get past who I am and what I began.” Gregorio spoke the words that Evangeline didn’t want to voice. “You think I’m responsible for the deaths of your friends.”

“You
are
responsible for their deaths.”

“He’s not, Evangeline,” Anatol broke in. “He was the tool that set the people free, but it wasn’t his hand who lopped off heads. You know this.”

Evangeline looked down at her plate and shook her head. “When an animal keeper lets loose a pack of ravening hyenas that mindlessly rips the throats from a bevy of swans, do you blame the hyenas or the keeper?”

“That’s not a fair analogy, Evangeline. You can’t compare—” Anatol stopped speaking when Gregorio raised his hand.

After a tense moment, Gregorio laid his napkin to the side of his plate, rose, and went down on his knee next to Evangeline’s chair. “Please believe me. I never intended the bloodshed, though I should have known it would happen.” He paused, bowing his head.
“I should have known.”

She remained still, staring at her plate.

“But, Evangeline,” Gregorio continued, “you must see that even though I was the tool that broke the floodgates, the floodgates would eventually have broken without me. The Edaeii family could never have held power when their people were so dissatisfied, starving,
dying
the way they were. When that happens, the people rise up, they throw off their oppressors.” He paused. “It was inevitable.”

Finally, she shifted in her chair to look at him. “You destroyed our way of life, Gregorio. How do you expect me to feel about that?”

“Yes, I did, and I’m glad!” Gregorio made a frustrated sound and stood. “Don’t you see that your way of life impinged on the rights of most everyone around you, Evangeline? How can you defend setting your table with feasts every night while the rest of the people in the country starved? How can you think it was right to clothe yourself in finery stolen from the backs of children who went cold in the winter?” He shook his head. “I know you’re not cruel, so you can’t possibly think the former way of running this country was the right way. You don’t have that in you.”