As they kissed, he refused to release her. In his arms, he now had access to the one thing he longed for most.
When Jolie began kissing him back, he went from controlled to crazed in very little time. He wanted her in the worst way, and tonight he would have her.
His way.
“Take me, Sir Jacques of Degaul,” she murmured against his plundering mouth.
The words drove him to madness. Releasing her, he stared down at the woman beneath him. From the long silky black hair to the serene eyes, he was lost. “I have no control,” he admitted.
Jolie didn't care. Now, she was being driven by need too. What she wanted was to feel this man worshipping her body. Here was her guardian, and she needed him.
With her claws, she tore through the tunic on his chest. His moan filled the silence of the room, along with the scent of his blood.
It called to her.
“Jolie,” he murmured, as she pulled away the restrictive clothing, only to find his pale flesh, healing from her assault. Immediately, her lips moved to the closing wounds to lap at his delicious flesh.
“I need you,” he whispered, “like never before.”
Jolie stepped back. “Then have me.”
He moved. It was so fast that Jolie barely registered the motion. Before she knew it, he was tearing through her beautiful gown to get to the prize beneath. When he finally removed the oppressive material, his eyes said it all.
He was crazed.
Scooping her up in his arms, he flung them both onto the bed. Immediately, limbs tangled as they began the age old dance they knew so well. They came together like they had so many hundreds of times before.
Yet, each time was monumental.
Sliding down her body, he devoured all of her. With his tongue, fingers, and lips, he consumed all she had to offer. When Jolie arched into him, he didn't stop. Instead, he stole more.
“Jacques,” she whispered, as he yanked her legs further apart to fit between them. As they rested over his shoulders, he dined on his prize.
Her body shook.
He consumed more.
She begged for release.
He gave her what she wanted.
It was a battle between them both as they remained locked in lust and need.
When she came, the reverberations rocked through them both. Still, he didn't relent. He wanted this night to matter for all eternity. Jacques prayed that four hundred years from now, they’d still remember it. If he could just have that reassurance, certainly he could get through the centuries of loneliness.
This would forever be something of a legend in his heart, and he could only hope in hers too.
Using his fingers, Jacques began working them into her body, thrusting, exploring, and tormenting Jolie to no end. Her gasps and moans told the tale.
His mistress was enjoying his attention.
When she shattered again, he wanted to spend the rest of the night doing just this. He loved hearing his name on her lips.
“I want more!” he growled.
She took that as her sign. Pushing him back into the bed, Jolie headed straight for his erection. With her hand, she stroked him. The second flesh met flesh, his body bowed in complete ecstasy.
Whenever they were together like this, she wanted to offer him so much. Something about this man made her fluttery inside her belly. Yet, she didn't know why.
When she took him in between her glorious lips, he gasped. There was her wicked mouth, hot tongue and the invasion of fangs. One slip, and she’d have a mouthful of blood. God, how he wanted her to drink from him, until he was dry.
Instead, she worked him furiously. His hands went to the back of her head as she practically devoured him whole.
“Jolie!” he shouted, as she dug her nails into his flesh.
Their kind lived for that pain. It blurred the pleasure, calling to the beast in them.
Suddenly, it was gone. All sensation stopped as she climbed up his body. Now, she was over him, braced and ready to accept him into her body.
“Now, Jacques?” she asked, placing her hands on his chest. She could feel his heart pounding under her palm.
“Yes, Mistress! Please use me!”
If that was what he wanted, so be it. She slid him home. Immediately, the ride began, and it was brutal. From this position, she was driving herself down onto him, slamming into that one spot.
“Oh, Jacques,” she gasped, as he filled her. His hands were on her hips as he pulled her down over and over again.
“More. I want you to take more!” he demanded, watching her breasts bounce above him. What he wouldn’t give to drink from her. What he wanted most was her blood to flood into his mouth as they mated.
Jolie could hear the words in his mind. She was so close to falling again. “I’m going to…” It was too late. Breaking apart, her body fell toward the bed, bringing him along with her until he was on top.
Jacques fought to hold on as her body tried to milk him. If it wasn’t for centuries of practice, he would have exploded. As she writhed beneath him, her breasts heaved as she tried to catch her breath.
They were delightful, but he had only one thing on his mind.
Jacques wanted something so taboo. There was something he’d never dared to try. It involved…
When she opened her eyes, Jolie was curious. “What are you thinking about?” she asked.
He couldn’t speak.
“Jacques?”
“I long to drink from you. I know you’re the mistress and it’s forbidden, but I want to know what you taste like during sex. It’s been centuries since I’ve lapped at your blood. You said tonight I could have anything I desired. This is my one true wish.”
His honesty touched her. Jolie was fortunate to be the primus of their family. She knew his flavor and had access to his blood often, but he was right. Jacques had only drank from her twice, and it was when he was badly wounded.
If this was his desired prize, so be it.
“I want you to take me, and then drink from me.”
He stared at her, so desperate with need. What she was offering was a treasure. Never did a guardian get to feed during sex with the primus.
It was unheard of.
“I want us to fall together and feel your fangs buried in my throat.”
He couldn’t think straight.
“Take me, Jacques!” she ordered.
Like any good guardian, he did what she asked. Immediately, he began pummeling her body with his. The long punishing strokes brought them both to the edge.
With her eyes tracking his, she ran her fingers up his arms, to his shoulders, and lastly to his neck. When the time came, she would guide him.
Jacques was never more in love than at that moment. With his large hands, he gently moved her hair from her throat. As his fingers touched the thudding pulse, he nearly lost it right then.
He was going to finally drink from his mistress.
“I’m close,” she whispered, aroused by what was to come. Tonight, he would taste her while they made love. “Soon, Jacques!”
He couldn’t wait anymore. “Jolie,” he moaned.
With urgency, she pulled him lower, placing his mouth against the pulse in her neck. With precision, he slammed into her body with his fangs and erection.
Together, they exploded.
Jolie’s moan filled the room as her blood flooded his mouth.
Jacques gulped hungrily at the wound. While he wanted to be gentle, he couldn’t. She poured into him as he emptied into her. It was the most perfect moment he’d ever experienced in his life.
“Oh, Jacques,” she whispered, her legs wrapping around his muscular hips. While he drank, she ran her hands up and down his body.
This was perfect.
Reluctantly, he pulled his mouth away from her. Before he could speak, she kissed him.
Jolie could taste herself in his mouth.
Together, they were delicious.
When she did break away, he s
tayed buried in her. Their eyes met, and finally it was he who spoke first.
“Thank you for this moment. I will never forget it, Mistress, for as long as I may live.”
Suddenly, it occurred to her. Her lover was gone and in his place was the guardian. It bothered her on some level, but Jolie let it go. Rules were rules, and she wasn’t strong enough to buck them and have what she wanted. For now, Jolie would live in the moment.
“I loved it too.”
His heart quivered at that word. He knew what he felt for the woman beneath him, but it didn't matter. Love or not, he couldn’t claim her as his own.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked, brushing a stray hair from her cheek.
“You.”
He didn't react. Instead, he slid from her body.
“Are you leaving, Jacques?” she asked, disappointed that he would escape once more.
“Yes, Mistress. I’ll see you tonigh at dusk.” He gathered his pants, the only clothes left undestroyed.
His heart ached. Jacques wanted to stay in the worst way, but he knew the truth. He was only a lowly guardian.
“One thing,” she called, as his hand paused at the door.
“Yes, Mistress?” he asked, never turning around. If he did, he’d blurt something that could get him sent away from her. Guardians were to protect and fuck, nothing more.
He repeated it over and over in his mind like a mantra.
“When you return to your room, I need a favor.”
Still he didn't turn. Jolie, naked on the bed, would be too hard to ignore. “Yes?”
“I want your armor. I plan on keeping it as a memento of today.”
His heart skipped that she would ask for something so trivial when she could have anything in the world. “I don’t understand.”
Her eyes filled with tears as she tried to compose herself. “Because today shall always reside in my heart.”
“Then, it is yours, Countess.”
With that, he simply slipped out, leaving her behind. Maybe one day he would get to be with her and own her heart, like she had his. Until then, he had an obligation to keep her safe.
In his life, duty came first.
Love never had a chance.
Not for a simple killer and his mistress. He may not be wise, but he knew well enough where he stood in life.
Jolie watched him leave as she held in all the emotion. Once the large wooden door closed, the tears finally came. As they streamed down her face, she wept endlessly into her pillow.
Where she should feel happiness, instead a void had taken its place.
This was new to her, and she didn't like it.
As the sun peaked over the horizon, she did the only thing she could. Jolie called for death and allowed it to take her home.
If she remained alive, the pain would eat away at her. For now, she’d escape and regroup another day.
If she was given the chance.
* * *
Flynn listened to the story. Suddenly, he didn't miss being alive back then. Yes, he would have enjoyed being her lover for so many years, but the pain was evident in his other mate’s life.
Jacques had suffered so much, and all in the name of love. If anything, it proved his deep well of strength. Flynn didn't think he could have pulled it off.
“So, that’s the story of the armor,” Jolie said softly. There was so much emotion in her voice, and like the story, there was pain and a raw feeling of hurt there too.
Jacques remained silent as they shared the emotion. Seeing that armor every day was bitter sweet. There were days he loathed it, and others where he found it to be the beginning of what they had eventually found.
“I’m sorry,” Flynn said suddenly. “I almost regret asking to hear about it.”
Jolie could see the emotions there between all three of them, and she was proud of the men she called mates.
“What has you upset, mon ami?” Jacques asked cautiously.
Flynn rolled over to look the man in the eyes. “I see the armor and think about some romantic gesture to get the girl. I now understand how everything is a matter of perception. Here, I was jealous of the beauty of that moment you both shared, but instead of that being the reality, it was filled with pain. You didn't get the girl for a long time, did you?”
He was honest. “It took hundreds of years to make her love me. I’ve only earned that gift recently.” It was said with such pain and sadness that no one there could miss it. Rarely was Jacques one to show his inner demons.
Jolie touched his cheek. When he focused on her, she spoke. “You’re wrong, Jacques. I always loved you. I was just too afraid to say the words. I was damaged before I met you. You didn't earn my love recently. You unburied it, giving it life. It was always yours.”
He kissed her softly. “Thank you for that.”
Flynn placed his hand on the man’s shoulder. “I’ll get some wine. I think we should celebrate.”
He lifted a brow. “What’s the occasion?”
Detective Flynn Brogan grinned. “We’re going to celebrate love, and how it endures the test of time.”
They all could drink to that.
Chapter Nine:
Interrogating Miss Kitty
~~ Elizabeth & Ethan ~~
In life you have to make choices.
Sometimes they ended up working in your favor, other times they blew up in your face. The same was true when you picked the person you planned on spending the rest of your life with.
When Elizabeth met Ethan Blackhawk, she just knew. Her heart unlocked instantly, and their journey began. Where a piece of her always feared it falling apart, it didn't.
In fact, over time, they became an unbreakable force to reckon with, learning that as long as they stuck together, nothing could stop them.
Then, along the road of life, their relationship morphed, changing into an entirely different beast. Yet, one thing remained true- Ethan was her first love.
From his raven black hair, to his midnight blue eyes, he had always captivated her heart. Maybe it was the mix of his Native roots, or the way he carried himself in a suit. All she knew was something about the man called to her.
Sharing responsibility of the second largest FBI mecca in the world wasn’t easy. There was stress, agents to be responsible for, and long days to fill their time. Sometimes, their personal relationship had to be placed on the back burner.
While they didn't do it on purpose, it simply became a cold hard reality. Love was always there, but it would get buried under life.
And that’s why she enjoyed playing these games.
While Ethan and Callen were always up for some truly fantastic sex, Elizabeth liked to take it one step further. Some women may think she was absolutely crazy for doing it, but she liked to make their fantasies come true.
It was a mission.
From the clothes to the location, Elizabeth liked to push the envelope, much like in her life. These kinky little games were more than just sex. Each one wove their lives even more firmly in place.
There was intimacy.
Affection.
Love, and so much more.
Now, today was no different. Elizabeth was about to embark on the mother of all fantasies. See, her sexy husband had a secret.
Director Ethan Blackhawk, who dressed in his finery with a serious demeanor, liked to be a very bad boy when it came to their bedroom. While at first it took a while to figure it out, now it was in the forefront of her mind.
It was something she couldn’t ignore.
Much like Pandora letting something out of the box, now that she knew Ethan’s desire, she had a duty to set it free.
Yeah, and it made her all hot and bothered.
For a while, she never knew about his obsession, but once the cat was out of the bag, it became fair game.
In her past, as an FBI agent, Elizabeth used to work the streets. It wasn’t uncommon for her to dress like a hooker, as the Feds tried to catch killers who preyed on w
omen of the night.
Thus, Miss Kitty was born.
She was crass.
Dressed like a whore.
And excelled at luring in men.
The most important ones of all were her husbands. Unbeknownst to her, Ethan had all the files pulled that were related to Miss Kitty. He scoured over them, trying to analyze everything he could. They became his fantasy, his obsession, and his dirty little secret.
When Elizabeth found out, the wheels began turning. She was going to make sure that her sexy husband got his wish.
If he wanted Miss Kitty, he was going to have her.
So, the plot was hatched.
With Callen’s help, Elizabeth began planning her mission. They’d dubbed it, ‘Operation Pussy Cat’. Each time, she or Callen would say it, there would be endless laughter. It wasn’t easy to pull one over on Ethan Blackhawk, but they were trying their damndest.
It wasn’t like this would be a bad surprise.
Yet, the man was so astute no one could fool him. Being the top profiler for the FBI, it was like trying to trick J. Edgar Hoover.
Now, the plan was in full force.
Ethan had to head to Quantico for some conferences. It offered the perfect opportunity to set him up.
While Callen stayed home with their kids, Elizabeth hoped a plane. Covering her tracks was going to be hard, but it might just work. Whenever two directors were out of the office, trouble generally ensued. Now, all the weight would fall on Callen’s very strong shoulders.
There was guilt about dumping it on him, but he had insisted.
The day before ‘Operation Pussy Cat’ was to begin, Elizabeth started the recon. Watching Ethan from the shadows of the hotel bar, Elizabeth noted his schedule.
He’d come in, order something for dinner, and then head to his room. If anything, she was well aware that her husband was a creature of habit. It was funny, since he was now the one being studied. As soon as he left that night, Elizabeth interrogated the blonde behind the counter.
Illegal Fantasies (Anthology ~ Behind Closed Doors) Page 15
