The Werewolf's Bride Read online

  Hovering by the doorway, Soleil debated between forgetting her manners and pleading a sudden migraine.

  But the choice was out of her hands when Charles called out, “What are you standing there for, my dear?” His pleasant voice had a note of warning in it, reminding Soleil his absolute dislike of any display of ill manners in his household.

  Soleil had a rebellious urge to stomp her feet—-

  About to throw a tantrum, milady? the marquis teased in her mind. This I have to see.

  But instead she made her way to her father, practically gliding on her satin slippers in her effort to move with grace. Aurora and Fleur were gaping at her, as if asking Soleil if she had lost her mind and that was the reason she seemed to be dancing towards them.

  Her face flamed, but she pretended not to notice her sisters’ surprise.

  She bent to kiss Charles’ cheek. “Good morning, Papa.”

  He beamed at her. “It’s wonderful to see you in such high spirits in the morning.”

  She straightened, protesting, “Papa!”

  “How surprising,” the marquis commented. “I would have thought Lady Soleil a morning person.”

  Fleur wrinkled her nose. “Because she’s our fearsome leader? Yes, well, it’s the opposite.”

  Aurora nodded. “She’s a bear to wake up in the mornings.”

  Ilie pulled out the seat beside him, leaving her no choice but to take it. As she sat down, Ilie murmured wickedly, “Well, I will do my best to change that once we’re married.”

  She looked at him in horror as he took his seat beside her. “What are you saying?” But no one seemed to hear her, with the sudden pandemonium in the dining hall. Charles was heartily shaking the marquis’ hand and clapping his hand on his back while Aurora and Fleur squealed like they were debutantes rather than the trained soldiers they were.

  “I’m so thrilled for you,” Aurora told her.

  She was about to protest that it was all a sham, a prank even, but then Aurora actually started sniffing back tears, and she slowly closed her mouth.

  She glanced at her father, who had a serious look on his face as he insisted on giving the marquis a dowry. “I know your wealth is infinite compared to mine,” Charles was saying, “but it’s a matter of honor, you understand?” His voice became gruff. “I want the whole world to know how much my daughter means to me.”

  Charles noticed her gaze on him. “I can’t wait to walk you down the aisle, dear.”

  She could only smile weakly, thinking Fleur was wrong about the marquis not taking a no for an answer.

  Today was proof that the marquis wasn’t even going to give her a chance to go against his wishes.

  “YOU HAVE BEEN UNUSUALLY quiet.” The marquis broke the silence between them as he claimed his seat next to her on the phaeton and took the reins. In moments, they were off, the marquis having volunteered to take her to ANEX, where she had an appointment with her former adviser.

  And of course he had left her with no choice about that, too, she thought. He had made the offer in her father’s presence, and naturally Charles gave his consent. If she had refused, she would have ended up embarrassing her father, and Ilie Marcovici knew very well that she wouldn’t ever do that.

  “Is something wrong, ma lisse?”

  Ha! She pursed her lips determinedly. Did he think sweet-talking her would make her biddable? Did he think she was as simple and easy as the other women?

  Flicking the reins, the marquis said, “I had no chance to tell you this earlier, but you look exquisite today.”

  She felt his gaze resting on her hair, which she had arranged in a loose, casual chignon. Unlike most ladies, she insisted on dressing her hair on her own, secretly finding the challenge a way to relieve her stress.

  “I hope you always put your hair up.”

  The comment was so unexpected that she couldn’t stop herself from asking, “Why?”

  “So I’d have the pleasure of taking it down.”

  Oh! Her cheeks burned with color at the intimacy of his tone. She should have seen that coming, curse it.

  “Are you wearing a new dress?”

  She shrugged, unwilling to admit that yes, the lavender satin gown she had on was indeed a new purchase.

  “Thank you for wearing it for me.”

  She gasped. “Stop reading my mind!”

  He grinned. “I didn’t.”

  Realizing she had fallen for his trap, Soleil gasped again and socked his arm as hard as she could. It only made him laugh, and the sound so incensed her, she raised her hand to slap him.

  But he only caught her wrist the moment she swung her hand down, and still laughing, he let go of the reins—-

  Her eyes widened in shock even as her wrist burned at his touch. “Milord!” They were going to crash!

  “Relax,” he murmured. “The horses are trained to slow down and stay on trails where they – and we – won’t be seen.”

  And so they were, the horses actually slowing down the moment they sensed that no one was controlling them.

  The marquis suddenly hauled her to his lap. She immediately struggled, but it was like going against a wall of unbending steel. “The more you wriggle, the more you arouse me, milady.”

  She froze, realizing what the hardness under her meant.

  His hands dug into her curls—-

  “No!”

  But it was too late. The marquis was pulling out the pins and letting them scatter to the floor. Her curls tumbled down and he groaned in satisfaction. “Lovely,” he said hoarsely.

  The way he was staring at her made Soleil swallow. Dear Lord, his hunger for her—-

  He threaded his fingers through her hair, and she lost the will to struggle, the pleasure of his touch making her feel like she was melting by the second. His mouth touched her hair, and she shivered. His mouth trailed down the side of her neck, nuzzling, and she couldn’t help arching in his arms.

  “All night,” the marquis groaned, “I thought about this. About you.”

  “Y-you’re exaggerating,” she gasped.

  His head lifted up, and his eyes locked with hers. “Tis the truth, milady.” His fingers traced her lips as he murmured, “You know what I am. I can do away with sleep if I must, and last night, I didn’t want to sleep. I’d rather think of you—-”

  Her entire body shuddered at his revelation, embarrassment and pleasure warring inside her.

  “In my mind, I kept replaying the image of how I made you come with my fingers—-”

  Oh!

  “S-stop saying such things!” But his mind had connected with hers, and Dear God, she could see what he was seeing, imagining the entire night—-

  Wetness flooded her folds, and she automatically pressed her thighs together in an effort to stem the tide.

  “And the entire night, I fucking regretted not having a taste of you—-”

  A throaty moan slipped out of her, and her head fell back as he nuzzled her neck, biting the tender skin before moving his mouth down her bosom.

  The entire world disappeared in her need for him, and she could only moan as he shifted her in his lap until she was straddling him and his hardness was between her legs. She had read in her secret books about these moments, had read about what it would make her feel.

  But still, none of it prepared her for the beauty of it—-

  The hot, wet, pulsating beauty of his hardness meeting her softness, of his engorged cock straining against his breeches as if it had the absolute need to pound itself into her.

  His hands clasped her waist in a possessive grip. Her eyes flew to him just as he pulled her down hard, grinding her wet and aching mound on his satin-covered breeches.

  She moaned long and hard. He started rubbing her up and down his cock, and she moaned again, the pleasure agonizing and unbearable in the sweetest possible way.

  “Look at me, ma lisse,” he growled.

  The growl was inhuman and powerful. It was pure wolf, and she should have found it te
rrifying but she didn’t. Instead, she thrilled to his command, and with another shudder, she lifted her eyes to him—-

  “You are mine.”

  Her body went up in flames at the possessive claim, and she knew she was speaking to the wolf behind the marquis’ beautiful façade.

  This was the real Ilie Marcovici.

  “And you know this, don’t you, ma lisse? You can deny it with your words, but your body knows it.” His hands left her waist and moved up, past her rib cage, before stopping right under her breasts.

  She shuddered anew. Oh, how close he was to touching her breasts, which were now swelling and aching like she was about to burst.

  She watched his gaze trail down to her breasts, and she swallowed, his hungry eyes making her nipples pucker into life.

  “These breasts can’t be seen by anyone else, ma lisse. Anyone who stares at them will have his eyes torn out, and you wouldn’t want to be the reason for people to go blind. Would you?” His silver eyes – the part of him that was always pure wolf – captured hers.

  She shook her head. “N-no.”

  “Good.” His satisfaction was primal. She wanted to think he was being barbaric, but her body felt differently, arousal making her want to cry out for his touch.

  His gaze went back to her breasts, and she whimpered at the way his eyes devoured them. “Do you know what this kind of dress does to me? Do you?” He fingers grazed the undersides of her breasts, and oh, how that simple touch made her ache even harder.

  “It makes me want to scoop my hands inside it—-”

  And then he was doing it, his large, powerful hands scooping into her gown until the silk inched down and her breasts filled his palms.

  Aaaaaaaaah.

  He began to knead her breasts, and her head fell back as pleasure rocked her body. He squeezed her breasts hard, and it squeezed a moan out of her. Then his fingers found her nipples, and nothing – oh, God, nothing – could have prepared her for how excruciatingly exquisite it was. He began to tug, and she began to pant.

  He tugged harder, she panted harder.

  He tugged faster, she panted faster.

  And then his mouth replaced his fingers on one nipple—-

  “Ilie!” His name came out a sob, and her fingers instinctively found their way up to his hair. He started to suck, and she started to grip his head to her. He sucked hard, and she pushed her nipple deeper into his mouth, wanting it never to end.

  “Ilie.” She sobbed his name again, hoping he understood what she could no longer put in words.

  He moved to her other breast, sucking hard on her nipple, and she could only sob his name over and over.

  “Ilie.”

  She rocked against him, wanting more.

  More.

  More!

  And as if he had heard her – she didn’t really know, she was no longer aware of which thoughts of hers made it to him – he suddenly had their positions switching, his inhuman speed allowing him to settle her on his seat in the blink of an eye.

  He was kneeling in front of her.

  She gasped, “What are—-”

  He didn’t answer, only moving his hands under her skirts.

  She forgot what she had to say.

  His knees settled on her knees, and she whimpered.

  His head disappeared under her skirts.

  No, he couldn’t—-

  She felt him starting to push her legs apart.

  Oh my God, what he was doing?

  It was broad daylight!

  “No!” She tried inching away from him. “My lord, no—-”

  But he now had her wide open.

  “Ilie, oh God, no—-”

  There was a tearing sound, and she cried out in shock. “My lord!” He had torn her drawers open! She struggled harder, her breasts bouncing in her efforts.

  Hold on, she heard him in his mind.

  What? Why?

  And then she heard him say out loud, “Run.”

  The horses flew in a thunderous gallop at the command.

  At the same time, she felt him move under her skirts, and the next moment, his fingers had parted her folds open and his tongue slipped inside of her.

  She screamed and held on to her dear life.

  I’m going to fuck you with my tongue until I taste your cum in my mouth.

  She couldn’t answer him, could only focus on the ability to breathe while the marquis fucked her with his tongue. The carriage bounced hard with each thrust, making every wet, deep penetration feel rougher, and it was everything she had wanted to beg for and more.

  Gripping the sides of the phaeton, she could only hold on as the carriage rolled down the road and the marquis devoured her with his mouth.

  Her heart began to race, and she had a hard time catching her breath.

  The pleasure began to mount.

  Her hands tightened its grips.

  The marquis’ mouth lifted.

  She cried out in protest.

  His fingers slipped inside of her just as he sucked on her clit.

  Scream for me, ma lisse.

  She came, and she screamed for him.

  She came, her essence flowing out, and he lapped it all up, his tongue leaving her clit even as his fingers didn’t stop thrusting.

  Her eyes drifted closed when his mouth finally left her. She felt him arranging her clothes, felt him placing her next to him, his arm curving around her shoulders as her head fell against his chest.

  Mine. His voice was hard.

  In the distance, wolves howled.

  Chapter Six

  The marquis’ horses grazed contentedly on the open field outside the sprawling gates of ANEX. Their master stood beside them, quiet and pensive as he waited patiently for his heartkeeper to finish her meeting. He had refused Soleil’s offer to accompany her inside, knowing that with the mood he was in earlier, he would have only caused trouble. Lady Soleil, he knew, was quite unaware that wolves were most territorial following sex, and more so when it was with their heartkeeper.

  The permanent wound over his heart suddenly burned. It was the mark of his blood bond with his brothers, and he answered right away. Your Grace.

  Good to know you’re still alive, milord. But it was clear in the Duke of Brimstone’s tone that he was being sarcastic.

  You are too attached to me, Silviu. It makes one wonder.

  Fuck you.

  That’s the duke I know.

  Silviu’s tone turned serious. What is this I’ve been hearing about you courting a baron’s daughter?

  Ilie clucked his tongue. You’ve turned into a gossip, Your Grace. How frighteningly disappointing.

  Ah. It’s serious then, if you’re unwilling to give me a straight answer.

  And so he was, Ilie thought. But the reason behind it eluded him. Silviu was his brother by choice, his friend, and the leader he had sworn on his life to serve and protect. The duke would have welcomed the news that Ilie had found his heartkeeper—-

  His lips twisted.

  Again.

  They went on to discuss Ilie’s undercover mission in Asphodel, which was to flush out the traitor in their midst. The same person, he believed, who was responsible for the setup that almost had killed an entire squad of enforcers – including Les Trois Belles Lames.

  After, Silviu said finally, George says hi.

  I will contact you with any updates, Your Grace. The connection between them faded. The pain from the wound over his heart eased, but the agony inside his body had flamed back to life.

  George says hi.

  He laughed humorlessly.

  Poor Silviu. The Duke of Brimstone was possessive, as all demons were, almost selfishly so, but his angelic half forbade him to give in to the greedy need to cage his heartkeeper away. Instead, it forced the duke to be fair and sensitive to those around them—-

  Even if it meant allowing communication between the other man who held a key to his woman’s heart.

  George says hi.

  An imag
e started to form, but he savagely ripped it into pieces before the image could complete itself. He did not want to think of things that could never be his – and never was. The Duke of Brimstone had found her first, and he knew, deep inside, that given the choice, she would still choose the duke.

  Even if Ilie had found her first, he had a feeling her choice would not have changed.

  George says hi.

  His jaw clenched.

  This would be the last time he’d think of Georgina McCartney as anyone but the duke’s heartkeeper. From here on, he would concentrate on what – who – he had. He would concentrate on the person he was sure truly wanted him.

  “I’M AFRAID YOUR TIME’S fast running out, Lady Soleil.” Crystal, her former adviser, was never one to waste words, but surely, Soleil thought numbly, she could have done a little better than that?

  She collapsed on the couch in Crystal’s office. She had thought the urgency had to do with her work either as an enforcer or a trainer in ANEX, and she wanted to kick herself in the head for it. How cocky she had been to not even consider the possibility that the urgent message could have something to do with her condition.

  Swallowing, she forced herself to ask between bloodless lips, “Why the sudden diagnosis?”

  “I’ve had a breakthrough last night studying the curse in your system,” Crystal told her. “And we have good and bad news.”

  “Bad first,” she said automatically.

  Crystal cracked a grin. “You always were a pessimistic little girl.”

  She hadn’t been for years, actually, but Crystal’s announcement might have Soleil going back to her old, dark ways.

  “The bad news is that the curse has been fashioned after an aneurysm. This means it can be triggered by just about anything, and it’s designed in such a way that we’ll never know until it’s too late. There are no symptoms to know when, where, or how it will happen. It will just happen, and if we don’t take the necessary steps to get rid of it, you will die.”

  Soleil clasped and unclasped her fingers on her lap. “I see. It sounds improbable...”

  “I know.” Crystal’s voice became harsh. “But nevertheless, it’s true. Virtually anything is possible for otherworlders, Soleil. It’s just a matter of who’s powerful enough to execute what they want.”