by Jade Lee
"So you meted out justice, and yet you still feel guilty."
He knew what he had done was justice, and yet it ate at him. The memories burned in his heart and soul. "I cannot find peace. No matter how I try, I cannot feel it except when I am with you."
"Because you feel guilty," she stressed. "But not about the bandits. Not about stopping cruel, brutal murderers." She shifted on her knees as she tried to pull him closer. "You were raised to be an earl, Jacob. If there's one thing about being an earl—or a countess—it's a responsibility that weighs on the soul. You have people to care for, whole families dependent upon you. Chris feels it too."
He pushed back, not wanting to think about his cousin.
"And when you fail in that responsibility . . ." She took a breath. "Whenever I fail, I feel guilty. Reasonable or not, I feel like I failed. And I want—I need—to be forgiven. Does that make sense to you?"
He shook his head. "I didn't forget to fix some peasant's roof, Evie. I killed people!" Why didn't she understand?
"You killed people who deserved to die. That's not where your guilt comes from."
"Of course it does!" he cried. But then he frowned, wondering if her words could hold some truth.
"You failed to save your parents. So in an attempt to atone for that, you killed their murderers. But that doesn't bring your parents back."
"I know!" he snapped, then immediately regretted it. She was biting her Hp, obviously trying to explain. He wanted to touch her, wanted to soothe away the frown line between her eyes, but there was so much emotion churning inside him that he couldn't move a muscle.
"I have never killed anyone," she finally said, "but I have seen death. Loved ones, hated enemies, people claimed quickly or slowly. I began seeing death in my youngest years. It's part of being a future countess."
"It's not the same—" he began.
"Of course it isn't, but the guilt is. It makes no sense, but someone always feels guilty, for not giving enough, for not helping at the right time, or seeing, or .. ." She pressed her Lips to his hand. "It seems there is always guilt, and no matter what the person does to atone, it never helps. You tried to atone for not helping your parents. You killed their murderers, but justice isn't forgiveness. You need to be forgiven."
"I wasn't there for my father. But I saw my mother. My sister. I saw," he whispered.
"Which makes the guilt more real, more powerful, more ... terrifying." She leaned forward and cupped his cheek. "Jacob, that's why you're still afraid."
"I'm not afraid," he said, and he tried to make it the truth. "I have given up my revenge to Christopher. He will find whoever is responsible. He will pass judgment." He clutched her wrist, holding her hand still against his face. "I gave it all to him."
"And did that help?"
"Yes!" Justice would be done in England as it had been done in China.
"And you are no longer afraid."
He swallowed, ashamed to feel a tear sHp down his cheek. Was he afraid still? Had he ever felt safe?
"Release the fear, Jacob," she said. She pressed a kiss into his lips. "No one is going to touch you now. You have been safe for almost two decades."
"I can't," he whispered, stunned to feel terror slipping into his veins.
She stroked her mouth against his again. Another kiss, and then another. "Are you afraid now?"
"No," he whispered. "Not when I am with you. Never with you." He pulled back to look more directly into her eyes. "Why is that, Evie? How can you keep my fear at bay?"
She smiled. "Because I forgive you." She pressed her lips into his hands. First one palm and then the other. "I forgive you for being a child who couldn't save his parents or his sister. I forgive you for being angry at the monks who took you in, and for nevertheless learning their ways because you were too young to run."
"How do you know that?" he whispered, awed by her words.
She looked up, a smile on her face. "You think I've never seen angry boys?" She cupped his cheek, and he closed his eyes to feel the touch of her hand. "You are forgiven, Jacob. There was nothing you could do to change what happened."
"I killed," he whispered, "and it made everything worse."
"It added to the guilt," she agreed. "So, now you wish to become a monk to atone."
He shook his head, though he meant yes, and he wasn't able to look her in the eye. "They have peace, Evie. Like you cannot imagine. The monks have a serenity that builds from the inside out."
"You don't need to be a monk, Jacob. You are forgiven. Be at peace now."
He let the words shiver through him. More important, he felt a benediction in her touch. She caressed his cheek and pressed her lips to his forehead. She raised his face to hers and stroked her forgiveness into his mouth. He drank her generosity. He breathed in her sweetness. And with every whisper, every touch, every blessing, he craved more.
"I cannot release you, Evie," he whispered. "I need you too much."
"I didn't ask to be released."
He jerked back enough to look her in the eye. She didn't understand. "I cannot give you up," he said, trying to explain, his voice hoarse. "You quiet the noise in my head, Evie. You make me feel—"
"You are forgiven," she repeated.
Her words sealed her fate. He took her mouth, he took her forgiveness, he wanted to take her. He framed her face with his hands and lowered her to the ground. He tried to be tender and careful. He wanted to be all the things she thought he was, but he couldn't. Not in this moment. Right now he felt a need much more compelling. She was his, and he could not stop.
Chapter Seventeen
At last. That was all Evelyn could think as Jie Ke pushed her down into the grass. They had been building to this forever and now, finally, the moment had arrived. She understood it was a bad choice. She knew that whatever emotions she felt now, in the morning she would once again be a future countess and would regret her loss of virginity.
And yet, she wouldn't stop herself. She had wanted this for so long. And she wanted it with him and for the silliest of reasons: because he allowed and even wanted her to choose her own path. Of all the people in her life, he was the one who allowed her to choose what she wanted. Every touch, every caress between them, had been at her instigation, because of her desire. Every interaction had been without pressure for her to act in one way or another. Even when she had gone to his fight, he had acted to protect her, had forcefully pointed out her errors in judgment, but there had been no suggestion of punishment or desire to orchestrate her actions. In short, Jie Ke asked where Christopher told. He advised, Christopher decreed.
That was attractive enough, but Jie Ke did one more thing that made her heart shudder with love: he did not revile her for any of her choices. He looked at her with such need, such worship, that she felt cherished. He made her feel perfect even when she knew she was not. In truth, she strove desperately to deserve such adoration, especially since she wanted him just as deeply as he seemed to need her. She ached to soothe the frightened boy he was, and she hungered to embrace the man he'd become.
So when he pressed her down to the ground, she went easily, loving the power in his body, the weight of his legs and the grip of his hands. She reached up to touch his face, letting her fingertips slide over his beard-roughened skin and the hard edge of his jaw. He was clenching his teeth, and his eyes seemed to burn in the darkness. He was so fierce, and yet he said she made him less afraid.
"I understand nothing about you," she whispered as she stroked his skin. "You are so different."
He leaned close and his cheek brushed across hers. His lungs expanded as he inhaled, and his chest trembled against her. He was holding himself apart, giving her time to think, to understand. She pulled back just enough to look into the dark hollows of his eyes.
"Yes," she said clearly. Then she soared upward enough to take his mouth, to claim her kiss, to brand him with herself. A fierce joy burned through her. She couldn't tell whether it came from inside her
or from him, but it exploded like lightning in the chambers of her soul.
His kiss dominated her. Though she had initiated it, he quickly took control. Her mouth opened beneath his assault and his tongue swept inside. He touched, he stroked, and he owned. Her mouth burned wherever he touched, and her breath became his. She felt his hands on her shirt, tugging at the fabric, and she arched into him. Her own hands slid down his body to grab his robes. The garment moved easily as she pulled it aside, but there was so much fabric! Not so her shirt. She soon felt cool night air on her chest even though her corset still restricted her.
"Lie down," she ordered, pushing at him.
He didn't answer. His hands were on the corset, pushing at the stays, trying to unhook her. He would succeed soon, but she had no interest in waiting.
"Lie back!" she said, and she pushed at his chest. She hadn't intended to hurt him, but he gasped in pain. Cracked ribs, she remembered. He rolled backward, his breath shallow. She leaned down over him, dropping her apology onto his lips. "Even with your hurt ribs, you could break me in a second, couldn't you?"
He frowned, obviously not wanting to answer.
"Couldn't you?" she demanded.
"Yes. There are ways."
"And if I asked, would you teach me how? Would you show me how to defend myself even with hurt ribs?"
He nodded slowly. "It is not generally taught to women. The training is hard enough for a man."
"But if I asked—"
"I would teach you." He arched his brow, a flash of vulnerability in his eyes. "I do not think I could refuse you anything."
She laughed. She did not know why his words made her heart so free. Perhaps because most everyone in her life thought to protect her, to keep her safe. Don't go to the fight, it's dangerous. Don't wander too far away. Don't dance in a storm. Only Jie Ke would give her the tools to make herself safe.
As if he understood her thoughts, his expression grew sober. "Do not think you will be safe. Fighting is only a tool, just Like anything else. It will not—"
"The point is," she said as she leaned down to kiss him, "that you do not limit me. I cannot tell you how amazing that is." Her words faded away as she abruptly straightened and released the hooks on her corset. She took a deep breath, lifting her breasts to the moonlight as she tossed the thing aside.
He reached for her, both his hands rising to hold her breasts. She leaned forward, letting him stroke and shape them. God, it felt so good. His fingers flowed across her skin, her nipples tightened as he rolled them, and fire burst from breast to groin only to sizzle right back up. It felt so wonderful, and his hands were so large. Oh, she could kneel like this forever, if only he would continue to touch her like this.
He urged her higher on his body, closer to him. She went easily, her legs trembling and weak until her breasts were just above his mouth. When he at last took her nipple with his tongue, she moaned in sheer delight. She reveled in the wetness of each stroke, the long, pulling draw that curled deep into her belly. Sensation built upon sensation as she trembled above him.
With one hand, she fumbled with the buttons on her trousers. Though her breath was shortening, her thoughts stuttering into incoherence, she was able to push all her clothing down. A simple shift of her hips, and all slipped to just above her knees.
Her bottom was exposed to the air and the sudden shift in temperature added to the delight. Her groin tightened in reaction, and her internal fire blazed white-hot. But it was too awkward, it was too . . . She pulled away, her breasts aching with the loss. She shifted quickly to kick out of the trousers. She had left her stockings on when she'd changed, and so the thick knit warmed her legs even as the ribbon teased against her inner thighs.
She looked over at Jie Ke, who was spread out like a present before her, but she was impatient with the wrapping. She grabbed his middle robe, bunched the fabric in her fists and tossed it aside. Soon a blanket of saffron lay on the ground. His underrobe was pale and almost gray. She stripped the downy, soft fabric aside with only the most casual appreciation of its texture.
He was naked, his organ large and thrusting up between narrow hips and corded thighs. His body was beautiful, but it barely registered. Her gaze had shifted up to his face. Before, she had thought of his muscles and his physique. Tonight, she looked in his eyes and saw his desire.
She watched his nostrils flare and his mouth tighten. She saw his eyes darken as he rose up from the ground. The motion was smooth, the glory of his body only a small portion of the power in the image. She could not stop him now even if she wanted. She had already said yes, and he was rising up to take her.
Her breath caught in her throat. His hand slipped between her knees, skimming upward over stocking and ribbon. She barely had time to tense before his hand found upper thigh and then more intimate flesh. He stroked into her from below as he pushed her down from above. He rolled her easily onto his robes and followed her to settle on his knees between her thighs.
One finger thrust inside her, sliding in and out with a sharp push. She gasped and arched, tightening her legs around his knees. He thrust two fingers inside her, but it wasn't enough and she whimpered. Then he withdrew in a long lingering stroke that pushed a knuckle right where she most wanted it.
"Oh!" she gasped. "Do that again!"
He did. He thrust with two fingers, deep, then followed this with a smooth pull that rolled higher and harder. Her belly tightened, her back arched, and she began to gasp in time to his strokes.
Again he thrust. Her legs widened further. She dug her heels into his back. And when he pulled his hand away, she released a soft keen of need. The sensations colluded in her body, building in a way that was familiar and yet so much more. She grabbed onto his shoulders, but they were too broad for her to grip. So she slid her hands lower, onto his arms, and she pulled on his biceps, raising herself up higher to him.
Her weight unbalanced him. His arm shifted. His last thrust was pulled away, and his hand shifted, drawing upward until he braced himself on his elbows. She felt his organ pushing slowly against her, but he didn't thrust inside. He pushed himself upward, not inside but against that place, and it made her shudder with delight.
He groaned against her ear, a low rumble that echoed the booming thunder of her heart. The tension was nearly unbearable. She wanted more. She wanted him. "Jie Ke," she gasped. "Jacob! Oh please, do it now!"
He thrust. She felt the flex of his belly and the sudden tightness in his biceps. But that was nothing compared to the sudden fullness of him inside her. Pain flashed through her mind, and she cried out in shock. Her back was arched and her body frozen. She had known this would happen, but she had forgotten. And besides, this was not as she'd imagined.
The pain had been a shock—like the sudden splash of icy water. It froze everything. And yet, he was there, warming her, easing her, being here with her. And he, too, was more than she'd expected. Large. Hard. Thick.
He began to slide out of her. He eased away, slipped backwards, drawing her belly down and—
In. He thrust in again, hard and powerful. She felt a flash of delight from that other place higher up. And this time as he drew out, slowly pulling back, she arched to follow. She pressed her groin forward to catch the angle again.
In. Ripples of his movement shivered up her spine. Oh, yes! But the force of his thrust pushed her away when she wanted him deeper. So she tightened her legs, gripping him close. He gasped against her ear. She looked into his eyes. His face was in shadow, his eyes dark pools, but she saw him. Not physically—all was in shadow. But she knew he looked at her. She felt his gaze on her face as deeply penetrating as his organ, and knowing he was watching her, she found bliss.
An ecstatic eternity later, Evelyn opened her eyes. A bug was crawling up her arm. She didn't want to wake, much less move, but it was cold here, lying naked on the lumpy ground. Jie Ke was a delightful source of heat, and she snuggled backwards into his arms. He tightened them around her
and she smiled even as she brushed irritably at the insect on her arm.
The wind blew across her body and she shivered. Lord, it was cold. She reached out and tugged the robe off the ground, flicking it so that it dropped across her hips and legs. It helped cut the wind, but the dust that came with it made her sneeze. Then Jie Ke grunted because she must have jerked at his ribs—and damn, but her feet were freezing!
She pushed away from him, hating to leave the warm haven of his arms, but she had to get dressed. She sneezed again, more violently this time. She hated the dust! Where had she set her corset? She squinted in the moonlight. There it was. She stood slowly, trying not to jostle Jie Ke. She moved gingerly, surprised to feel the strain of sore muscles, the wetness in places that weren't normally wet. Perhaps when she got back to the manor, she would order a bath—a hot one, first thing in the morning.
Is that what married women did? She wondered. A hot bath, or at least a full cleaning with cloth and water? Did they do it after every time?
She picked up her corset and shook out the dirt. She couldn't see if it was truly stained, not in the dark. If so, she would have to throw it out. She hated the feel of the grit that rubbed between corset and skin. She knew her sister Maddie was constandy complaining about getting raw patches because she could not keep her clothes clean, and Evelyn didn't want that.
She wrapped the corset around herself, welcoming the covering against the wind. When she and Jacob were married, they could lounge in bed all day. She wouldn't even—
Evelyn froze, her mind in sudden turmoil. She hadn't just thought. . . She couldn't possibly think . . . She wasn't really going to marry . . .
She swallowed and looked behind her at Jacob. He was stretched out on his back, his mouth slightly open in sleep. He was obviously cold—his nipples were tight, his skin was puckered with goose bumps—and yet he slept without difficulty. She pulled on her shirt and pants, then knelt beside him to look.
