The Sinful Art of Revenge

by Maya Blake

  With the help of the St Valoire committee, specially selected to assist with organising the open days and the ball, she watched with growing satisfaction as the château was transformed from stunning private residence to magnificent public masterpiece.

  She was placing the last stack of glossy leaflets that gave a brief but rich history of the château on a Louis XIV credenza when strong arms slid around her waist.

  ‘It’s nearly seven. You were officially off the clock almost two hours ago.’ Damion’s lips teased the shell of her ear as he pulled her back against his warmth.

  ‘I’ve never been a nine-to-five sort of girl,’ she replied. Unable to resist, she leaned into him and felt his hardness against her backside.

  All week he’d made such intimate gestures, sometimes in full view of his grandfather and the assistants running around trying to get the château ready. This morning their kiss had got so heated a committee member had coughed several times before they’d sprung apart.

  And with every touch, every kiss, she felt her resistance eroding just a little further. Even now, resisting the urge to turn and bask in his magnificence, she knew it was only a matter of time before she gave in.

  ‘As the boss, I’m calling it a day. And take those shoes off.’ She heard the frown in his voice. ‘I don’t understand how you keep walking in those things.’

  She finally turned to face him, fully prepared for the punch to her system the sight of his gorgeous face and incredible body always produced. ‘I feel fine. The pool has worked wonders for my back …’ Her words spluttered to a halt when he let go of her and knelt at her feet.

  ‘It’s still not a reason to abuse your health.’ He grasped her calf. ‘Off.’

  Reiko grabbed the credenza to steady herself against the strange new emotion that battered her. The unexpected sight of Damion at her feet knocked the breath clean out of her lungs. There was nothing especially erotic or lustful about the gesture, but her senses screeched all the same, her heart hammering a beat so wild she almost gasped with the force of it.

  ‘There—that’s better.’

  Disrobing her feet of the platform heels, he flung them to one side and surged up to tower over her. Without the benefit of her heels, he loomed bigger, larger than life, and he made her feel as delicate as cherry blossom as he gathered her into his arms.

  ‘Damion …’

  ‘I’ve been dying to kiss you properly since we were interrupted this morning.’

  ‘I think we scandalised Madame LeBoeuf.’

  ‘She needs to learn that discretion is the better part of valour,’ he said huskily before he lifted her into his arms. ‘Put your legs around me.’

  She gasped at the image that shot into her mind. The intimacy of their position made the blood roar through her veins. He walked forward as he kissed her, taking his time to explore her mouth with an ease and expertise that left her reeling. She didn’t know where he was taking her until a cool breeze touched her skin.

  They were on the east side of the château, where an elevated terrace gave fantastic views over the valley. St Valoire was breathtaking during the day and mesmerising at night.

  He set her down and she turned to find a single round table set out between two imposing arch-supporting columns. After seeing her seated, he lifted the lids off the plates.

  A simple meal of châteaubriand with potato cutlets and green beans was accompanied by a rich, full-bodied Bordeaux from the château’s vineyard. After their meal was cleared away, they lingered over the last of the wine.

  ‘Thanks for giving me this job. I wasn’t sure I could pull it off, but I’ve had a blast.’

  ‘You love art and you love a challenge. The combination was always going to work in your favour, and ultimately in mine.’

  ‘But as you said it’s your grandfather’s last ball. You could’ve trusted a dozen other people with it. You trusted me. So thank you.’

  He looked at her for a long time, an indecipherable expression entering his eyes before he lowered his lids.

  The soft glow from the wall-ensconced lights threw shadows over his face as he leaned over to refill her crystal glass. She traced the chiselled perfection of his bone structure and the mouth that had kissed her senseless a short time ago.

  He raised his gaze and caught hers. ‘What?’

  ‘You truly are spectacularly gorgeous, Damion.’

  The wine bottle hit the table with a little more force than was necessary. ‘Reiko …’

  For the first time since she’d met him, he seemed at a loss for words. With widening eyes, she watched a flush creep over his taut cheeks.

  She laughed. ‘Oh, my God, I didn’t mean to embarrass you. I’m not sure what came over me.’

  ‘I am sure,’ he replied. ‘Look at me, Reiko,’ he rasped huskily. ‘Look at me properly and tell me if it’s embarrassment I’m suffering from.’

  She looked. And swallowed. His fists were clenched on the table, a pulse jumped in his temple, and his whole body was held taut in a grip of an emotion she’d become acquainted with all too well.

  He was supremely, spectacularly aroused. From her simple, truthful words. The notion was so intensely powerful, so devastatingly power-drenching she couldn’t immediately form adequate words to answer him. ‘I … I’m …’

  ‘You’re ready,’ he stated. ‘I trusted you with something important to me. How did that make you feel?’

  ‘Respected. Cherished. Like I matter to you.’

  ‘How do you feel about me? When you look at me, do you see a man who will hurt you again?’

  She sucked in a breath. ‘Not intentionally,’ she replied honestly. ‘But—’

  He scraped back his chair. ‘No more buts.’ Without taking his eyes from hers, he reached out a hand.

  Tentatively, she placed her hand in his. He swung her up into his arms as if she weighed nothing.

  After spending countless hours imagining what his suite, especially his bed, would look like, Reiko barely saw it as Damion kicked the door shut and lowered her to her feet.

  He reached for her, sealing her lips with his in another searing kiss that sent her heart rate soaring skyward. Beneath her roaming, frantic hands his muscles warmed to her touch, his skin heating up as their kiss grew more fervid.

  But the heat threatened to cool when he reached for the hem of her cotton top.

  ‘I … Do you mind turning the lights off?’ she murmured against his lips.

  He raised his head and speared her with a direct, probing look. ‘Why? I’ve seen the scars on your face and arms. It’s no use hiding them from—’

  ‘Damion, there are more scars—worse scars,’ she blurted out, the heat receding to be replaced with the familiar drench of pain.

  She tried to step away, but he held her still, his narrowed eyes scouring her face.

  ‘Show me,’ he commanded.

  ‘No. We can do this … it … with the lights turned off.’

  ‘I want to see you. Every inch of you. And you won’t deny me. Now, do you want to take your clothes off or shall I do it for you?’

  His implacable stance made her heart dive into her stomach.

  ‘Damion, please …’

  ‘Every inch. Trust me and take off your clothes.’

  He stepped back to give her room, hands locking behind his back as if to physically restrain himself from touching her. That single gesture, the knowledge that he knew she was scarred and still wanted her, made her feel a powerful emotion that lent her fingers the strength to reach for her top.

  Grey eyes devoured her the moment she bared herself to him, his gaze lingering longest on her lace-covered breasts. Then he frowned. ‘I don’t see any scars.’

  Taking a deep breath, she caught the long, heavy curtain of her hair and looped it over one shoulder. Slowly, her heart hammering with each passing second, she turned around. Reiko felt his gaze on every single one of the long, livid scars criss-crossing her nape and back. Knew the moment he stepped closer,
bringing his forceful presence with him.

  What she wasn’t prepared for was the slow, almost reverent touch of his fingers tracing her scars. Or the touch of his lips against the deepest scar in the small of her back. Shocked, she glanced over her shoulder.

  For the second time today, Damion Fortier was on his knees, his fingers and lips heating up skin that had gone clammy and tight with dread.

  Tears welled in her eyes, a choking sob shaking through her frame. He caught her to him, resting his cheek against her back as she sobbed. Finally he rose and gathered her close, murmuring to her softly in French.

  When her tears subsided, he reached for the fastening of her pencil skirt. Fresh dread crept through her. ‘There’s more, Damion.’

  ‘Every inch, Reiko,’ he returned, his deep, purposeful tone brooking no argument.

  He eased her skirt down, taking her panties with it. Her bra came off next. Naked, scared and more than a little shaky emotionally, Reiko wanted to bolt. But Damion’s eyes held her captive. The harsh breaths rushing from his chest, the volcanic heat of his gaze and the taut control he held over his body made her entertain the belief that maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t revolted by the sight of her. The very thought of it made her sway with relief.

  He caught her to him, capturing her face in his strong hands so he could devour her lips one more time. His teeth caught her lower lip in a not-so-delicate bite that made liquid heat rush to her core. Against his hard chest her nipples peaked, burning with the urge to be touched. As if in tune with her every need, he captured one breast in his palm, kneading it before squeezing her nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

  Against the ravaging force of his lips, she cried out.

  With a loud sucking noise, he pulled back. He licked his lips as he stared down at her body, his hand reaching out to capture her other breast.

  Her moan was long and loud and desire-drenched.

  ‘Do I still turn you on?’ he demanded, his voice harsh with arousal.

  Through desire-swollen lips she answered, ‘God, you know you do.’

  ‘Do you trust me?’

  ‘Yes,’ she breathed.

  He grasped her waist and picked her up, his strides long and focused. Gently he laid her on the bed and stood back. He inhaled slowly, his gaze never leaving hers as he stood and released his belt and lowered his zipper. Her gaze started to slide downward.

  ‘Keep your eyes on mine. I need to see the trust in your eyes. And you don’t need to see how needful I am for you right now.’

  ‘But you’re perfect. I … I’m not.’

  ‘Your scars don’t define who you are. Besides, I wasn’t talking about that. Five years is a long time, but I haven’t forgotten how tight and small you are. I, on the other hand, am not.’

  No arrogance, just statement of fact.

  The breath rushed out of her lungs. ‘Stop boasting, Damion. I know how big you are. I also know you won’t hurt me.’

  Relief poured out of him. ‘You unman me with your words, ma belle.’

  ‘Not too much, I hope. I need a bit of your manliness.’

  With a grin, he shucked off his trousers and stepped from them. ‘My bounce-back rate remains phenomenal.’ He stretched out beside her, his face sobering as his graze traced over her. ‘I want you. Badly.’

  She shifted closer to his warmth, gasping when her breasts encountered the silky hair on his chest. ‘I want you, too.’ Unable to help herself, she pressed her lips to the tight skin of his shoulder.

  A shudder raked his powerful frame. ‘Reiko, I need to make sure you’re ready. I can take this as slow as you want.’ His voice held a gently pleading quality that lit a triumphant flame in her heart.

  Boldly, she raised one leg and slid it over his thigh. ‘I’m ready. Feel free to check it out for yourself.’

  The hand that had been causing havoc with her breasts stilled for a moment, then trailed down over the marred flesh of her stomach, through the silky curls, before dipping into her cleft.

  A deep groan tore through his throat at the wet evidence of her need. She lifted heavy lids and her gaze collided with his. With the utmost care, he dipped one finger inside her. Her muscles immediately tightened around him.

  ‘Are you okay, ma cherie?’ he rasped throatily.

  Breath gushing with trepidation, she bit her lip and nodded. There was no pain, but the tightness held a mild discomfort. Damion withdrew his finger but kept his hand pressed against her. His thumb circled her clitoris, sending waves of renewed pleasure roaring through her. Just as he’d done at the pool, he took one nipple in his mouth, his tongue flicking urgently against her flesh, causing her to cry out.

  She grasped his silky hair, her movements almost forceful, as wild, unbearable hunger washed away anxiety. Again and again he took her to the edge, only to withdraw before she took that final step into oblivion.

  Hot, unrecognisable sounds ripped from her throat. Urgent fingers clawed at his back. Her head thrashed on the pillow as he turned her body into one massive erogenous zone.

  ‘Please, Damion … Oh, please …’ she pleaded until she was nearly hoarse.

  Finally he bit lightly on her nipple and increased the pressure on her throbbing nub. With a sharp, hoarse cry she felt her orgasm rip through her, the force of it bucking her hips straight off the bed.

  She fell back to earth, shaking, moaning, trying desperately to hold on to Damion, her anchor in a rapidly disintegrating world.

  It wasn’t until she had sufficiently calmed that she realised Damion had two fingers fully imbedded in her. And that there was no pain.

  Her shocked gaze locked with his. He leaned down and brushed his lips over hers.

  ‘How do you feel?’ His accent thickened his query.

  ‘Fine. I feel … amazing,’ she breathed, fresh tears prickling her eyes. She blinked them away and focused on him. Against her thigh, the heavy evidence of his arousal throbbed. ‘I want to feel you. Inside me.’

  He shook his head. ‘Not yet, ma petite. You still feel incredibly tight.’ He kissed her again. ‘I don’t want to hurt you.’

  ‘You won’t.’ She moved against his fingers and watched sweat bead his forehead. When she moved again, he pulled back slightly and pushed into her.

  Sensation raced across her skin, setting her on another journey into bliss.

  ‘Damion, please …’

  ‘Not yet, but very soon. I promise,’ he murmured against her ear, before proceeding to list all the things he was going to do to her. His fingers picked up a slow but steady rhythm, his thumb circling all the while in an expert motion that drove her insane. ‘How does that feel?’

  ‘Good … so good!’

  ‘You look so beautiful. Your body is as incredible as I remember. So responsive and alive with what you’re feeling. I’ve never been this turned on in my life.’

  ‘You … you do it to me.’ She clamped her eyes shut as bliss rushed over her. A sob tore through her throat as another powerful climax ripped through her.

  She opened her eyes to the sound of ripping foil. Swallowing thickly, she watched him slide the condom on. Unbelievably, anticipation fevered through her. The thought of experiencing a different climax with Damion, after all this time, fired her blood, making her reach out eagerly for him as he sucked in a controlling breath before rearing over her. A flash of concern darkened his eyes.

  Reaching up, she pressed kisses along his jaw. ‘I’m ready. I promise.’

  He swallowed and nodded, his eyes devouring her as he spread her thighs and settled between them.

  She looked at his penis, poised against her core. He was so thick and powerful.

  He was barely inside her before her muscles started to spasm in protest. Alarm tore through her, her breath emerging in shallow gasps as her fear escalated.

  Sinking onto his elbows, he grasped her face in his palms. ‘Reiko, look at me.’

  She shook her head, every frightened atom of her being ready to reject the forceful
presence.

  ‘Look at me, please! Trust me. Feel how much I want you.’

  Forcing aside her fear, she looked into his eyes. The strong, steadfast reassurance there slowly calmed her. The soothing caress of his fingers through her hair brought tears to her eyes.

  ‘Relax,’ he breathed, placing gentle kisses against her temple.

  He pushed again. Reiko felt him slide in another millimetre. A different sensation fizzed through her. Another inch and she felt her heart hammer to an altered rhythm. Slowly, exhibiting infinite care and steely control, Damion fed himself into her. He never once looked away from her, never stopped telling her how beautiful and brave she was.

  He established a steady rhythm, pulling out a fraction before sliding back in. This time the connection was more intimate, more visceral, because he kept her in his sights the whole time, gauging her every reaction and devouring the minute gasps that started deep in her throat and gradually worked their way out.

  Before long she was clutching his back, her hands feverishly exploring, searching for a different peak from the ones she’d previously attained. Sweat dripped down his jaw and landed on her breast. Reaching up, she slid her hand over her his cheeks and into his hair, the intimate feel of his sweat-dampened hair ramping up her pleasure.

  ‘Mon Dieu, I adore your body,’ he muttered gruffly.

  ‘Say that last bit again, in French,’ she pleaded, the high of having him whisper throatily to her adding to the insanely heady magic unravelling inside her.

  He did, repeating a litany she didn’t understand but which, coupled with the expert thrust of his hips, soon sent her over a peak much headier than she’d previously experienced.

  ‘Merci,’ he murmured in her ear once their breaths had calmed. He gathered her close, tucked her back to his front and pulled a warm sheet over her.

  ‘I think you’ve got it the wrong way round. I should be thanking you,’ she murmured sleepily.

  His lips found her sweaty nape. ‘Your trust means a lot to me.’