Evil's Niece

by Melissa MacNeal

  ‘His answers don’t satisfy you any more, do they?’

  Dewel slid alongside me, making the sheets rustle seductively as his warm skin tantalised mine. For a man who worked a plantation, he had a luxurious sensuality — just enough feathering of dark hair on his chest to render his whisky skin more mysterious, coupled with a softness I never expected. His midnight hair fell loosely around his ears, and as he smiled, with his Creole face directly over mine, I was overwhelmed by him all over again.

  ‘Kiss me,’ I whispered.

  ‘Glutton.’ He bussed my lips to tease me. ‘You think I can pleasure you again and again? Just because you can’t get enough?’

  ‘Yes.’

  His laughter made my heart dance, and as he knelt between my legs, his eyes took on a feral glow, like a wolf’s at dusk. A wolf who’d found a willing mate and intended to chase the full moon into the dawn with her. Another erection prodded my bottom. Dewel was eager to do my bidding, even if he pretended to have other things on his mind.

  ‘After Daddy died — when my half-brother learned the plantation was goin’ to the bastard heir — Chapin felt the Proffit name and bloodline might be compromised, unless he became a family man,’ Dewel explained quietly. ‘Some legal affairs in St. Louis required both our signatures. While we were there, he caught wind of a stock market deal gone sour, involving your daddy. Mr Wheeler bemoaned havin’ a daughter he couldn’t marry off in the style local folks figured on.’

  I rolled my eyes. ‘It wasn’t as though potential husbands were beating down my door. I was twenty-two, already written off as an old maid. The few men whose company I’d enjoyed were intimidated by Daddy’s high-falutin expectations.’

  ‘So my half-brother caught him with his defences down. And Chapin asked me to look you over.’

  ‘Why?’

  Dewel chortled. ‘Because I enjoyed the challenge of sneakin’ a peek at you while he kept your daddy distracted. And because I had a way with the ladies — which was why, at the time, I didn’t snap you up myself. Didn’t see the need, cocky as I was at that age.’

  He propped my hips against his thighs, splaying my legs over his upper arms. Was that a shadow of sadness beneath his blue eyes, as his gaze raked my body? Lying at a slant, with my head at the edge of the bed, I knew better than to assume Dewel Proffit would ever relinquish total control or confess to any regrets…although I thrummed with the anticipation of driving him to a wild, frenzied distraction, once he revealed all he was going to.

  ‘Your daddy was no fool. Said it was all or nothin’ — that Chapin would pay his promissory note, and take you sight unseen. But once I got you to the window by throwin’ some gravel at it, I assured him, durin’ our trip to the bank, that he’d never be sorry.

  ‘And when I saw you at the wedding, lookin’ so pretty and innocent,’ Dewel went on in a softer drawl, ‘I swore I’d never do that son of a bitch another favour as long as I lived. I hoped, for both your sakes, you could turn him around, but…’

  ‘But what?’ After all of Chapin’s warnings not to trust his half-brother, I was finally getting some straight talk. Not the most flattering information, yet I’d guessed long ago that romantic flights of fantasy hadn’t prompted the golden-haired Proffit to offer for my hand.

  ‘You’ve suffered more than your share of humiliation over the past seven years, and for that I’m sincerely sorry, Eve. No sense rubbin’ your nose in it now.’

  ‘Ah. His chasing after the others.’

  ‘Yeah. That.’ His fingertips skimmed my sides as he watched me closely. There was more he wasn’t telling, unless he heard certain cues from my response.

  But what could I say? Even now, all I knew was that I knew very little about my husband, Chapin Proffit.

  ‘The wife’s always the last to find out,’ I offered, shivering when he brushed my nipples with his palms. ‘I didn’t have a hint about his…extramarital activities, until that day a few weeks ago, in the courtyard.’

  ‘And then you got into trouble for bein’ seen with me.’ His grin turned wicked again, and with the flats of his palms he coaxed my breasts into peaks of need. ‘So we might as well live up to his accusations! Nothin’ like a steamy little affair to highlight his campaign. We’d all suffocate, if it weren’t for society types waggin’ their tongues to create some breeze.’

  Had ever a man sounded as downright unrepentant as Dewel Proffit? While part of me could laugh at his cavalier attitude, I might already be in trouble when I got home. ‘I should probably be going —’

  ‘Nowhere.’ His command sent shivers up my spine as he riveted me with those defiant eyes. ‘My illustrious brother didn’t tell you about tonight’s meetin’ to finalise the party’s platform? Damn thoughtless of him.’

  Effortlessly, Dewel lifted me further up his spread thighs, opening my slit to his full view as he braced himself. ‘Wrap your legs around me. Take hold of my cock,’ he breathed. ‘You know where it wants to be, sugah. High inside your hot little pussy, makin’ you melt all over me again. Makin’ the bed so wet we can bathe in it.’

  Like a dog trained to its master’s voice, my body was already anticipating that divine fullness when he shoved his shaft inside me. Its head slipped between my sex lips like a sausage filling a buttered bun, to leer at me, red-faced, above my coarse curls. I could feel the strength of Dewel’s bent legs; could watch his chest muscles flex beneath that swirl of black hair…could feel my honey pooling at the rim of my hole. I smelled shamelessly ready to fuck him again.

  He sucked air when I wrapped my hand around his hardness, pressing it into my silky-wet folds. ‘Tell me what to do, Dewel. Tell me what you want.’

  ‘Keep your hand there, darlin’…rub it a couple of times, and then don’t keep your man waitin’. My Lord, but you’re pushin’ all the right buttons — again —’

  His last word came out as a gasp and then he thrust downward, stopping with just his tip inside my entry, holding me with that blue flame of a gaze. I enveloped him slowly, savouring the tightness, the sense of being filled as never before while I used my legs for leverage. Ah, the luxury of loving a man whose overall size let me revel in his strength!

  Dewel Proffit made me feel small and enticing and desirable. For the first time in my life I didn’t wonder what was wrong with me: my lover was as hungry for this intimate play as I, encouraging me with his smiles and quiet moans, and hands that cupped my ass with the promise of a passion like no other.

  ‘Up and down on it,’ he murmured. As I complied, I listened to the friction of our bodies and then the wet, sucking sound when he pulled out to tease me.

  ‘That’s disgusting.’ I laughed, and felt him shaking beneath me — with mirth and the building of his next climax.

  ‘No, Eve, it’s the sound of a woman who wants me. It’s the hot slickness of her pussy, beggin’ me to fuck her senseless. Communication in its finest form.’ Dewel buried himself to the hilt then, so thick and rigid I lay impaled at an angle that left me totally at his mercy.

  My eyes closed as the pressure inside me mounted. The sensations danced like maidens around a Maypole, coy at first but more adventurous as they circled closer to the centre…to a completion that promised to be as cataclysmic as all the earlier ones combined. He was so deep his balls rubbed my butt; so still I began shaking with my need.

  My head rocked back — over the edge of the bed! — and then adrenaline shot through me as my body slipped with the loose sheets. Dewel gripped my wrists, grinding against my mound until my clit rubbed his cock with each shove. I gasped, glazing over with pleasure as he rode me, giddy with the sense that at any second I might slip to the floor and be crushed beneath his weight.

  A bloodless breathlessness overtook me. My legs parted further, despite my instinct to hold on with them, and then I hung suspended, almost upside down, connected only by his cock and the fingers around my wrists. His ruddy face emanated a power so elemental I couldn’t fully comprehend it, while those hot blue eyes hel
d my gaze until lightning passed between us. I knew then that destiny had led us down its irrevocable path.

  ‘Take us home, sugah,’ he panted. ‘Got you right where I want you, and there’ll be no gettin’ into this bed any more with anybody else, little witch. Squeeze me, now! Clamp that snatch around me and make me surrender. I wanna shoot like a damn cannon. I want —’

  My moan drowned out his provocative patter, for his root plied my clit with a steady pressure that would make me explode if release didn’t come soon. Once again my body clutched for meaning, in this reclamation of the woman who’d never sampled such delight in the marriage bed. I now intended to claim it as my right all the time.

  Dewel dove deep, hard against my sweet spot, and I cried out his name. Bucking like a cowgirl on a bronc, I hung on by wrapping my ankles around his neck. Driving my hips up to meet his every thrust, I sought that blinding moment when I lost myself and soared out of this world and into the next.

  * * *

  I had to leave Dewel’s world that evening, of course, but I lingered, taking in the furnishings of pecan and cypress wood, and the whitewashed walls and beamed ceilings that graced Bayou Belle. It was the home of a man who was comfortable with himself; who chose decor that pleased him, rather than following current fashions.

  Once downstairs in the main parlour, I fastened the clasp more securely on my makeshift lace dress. From above the mantel, a provocative portrait dominated this room, and I had no trouble guessing who she was.

  ‘Your mother,’ I murmured, walking closer for a better view. Her raven hair tumbled loose about her shoulders, which were bared above a peasant-style blouse. Large gold hoops dangled from her ears. Her blue eyes sparkled with a mischievous passion, and her smile looked every bit as mysterious as the Mona Lisa’s. ‘She was beautiful. Free, like a gypsy.’

  ‘Which was why Robert E. Lee Proffit loved her and kept her here. Maria Castalantez was everything Virgilia was not, and I’ve never felt an ounce of shame about bein’ her son.’ As Dewel stepped behind me, his hands found my loose breasts beneath the filmy lace.

  ‘Is that why Chapin strays?’ I asked in a subdued voice. ‘Because I’m not the kind of woman he —’

  ‘I’ve never understood Chapin’s tastes, so I won’t explain them,’ he said, turning me in his arms to emphasise his point with those probing blue eyes…eyes so like my husband’s, yet they focused on me whenever he spoke. As though I mattered. As though he couldn’t look at anything else. ‘But we are who we are, Eve. I’m a man with few regrets, but I’m sorry you’re not mine. And I’m doin’ my damnedest to change that.’

  I could only stare as his words washed over me: Dewel Proffit intended to take me away from my husband. It wasn’t a question, and he didn’t ask how I felt about it.

  This revelation rocked the foundations of all I’d been raised to expect as a woman, a wife. It made hope fly within me like a wild bird trying to escape an aviary. My breath left me in a rush, and I had to drop my eyes. What he implied defied decency, for if I became his mistress I’d be no better off than Maria had been: much loved, but socially unacceptable. Still held captive, but in a different sort of cage.

  My lover lifted my chin, the lines of his bourbon-coloured face softening with a smile. ‘That’s not a threat, sugah. It’s a promise. Chapin’s had his chance to make you happy, and we both know he’s failed miserably.’

  With a last glance at the intriguing mistress of Bayou Belle, we turned towards the door. My emotions warred within me: I had to go yet I yearned to stay, despite the consequences of a night away from home. With every step, the clinging lace reminded me that I’d started out as a hoyden with an honourable mission and was returning as a hussy — a fallen angel who’d made a mockery of her marriage vows. I was no better than the husband for whom I’d lost all respect.

  On the small table in his foyer, a tabloid caught my eye among the other mail. An artfully drawn sketch of Honore Delacroix highlighted an article headlined, ‘Headmistress Seeks Students for School of Domestic Endeavor.’

  ‘Well, well,’ I murmured, lifting the folded paper on my way out. ‘Look who’s making news. Probably because three of her favourite pupils now live under my roof, and she’s not a bit happy about it.’

  The brief article outlined requirements for potential applicants, stressing the School’s reputation for only the highest calibre of servants. At the end, it gave the time for a reception and open house, inviting the public to visit her facility in the Vieux Carré.

  ‘That’s tonight,’ I mused as we stepped into Dewel’s carriage. ‘Too bad we’ve had other things to occupy our time.’

  ‘Other things, to be sure.’ Before the horses were even on their way, the darker Proffit lifted me into his lap and parted my legs with his inquisitive hand. ‘And this little thing is gonna occupy my thoughts day and night, until I can claim it again.’

  Did he never tire of sex? This brazen man took every opportunity to touch my body, to incite that inner riot — revelling in my responses even when I didn’t repay his favours. Tipping me backwards over his lap, so my head hung suspended lower than his knees, Dewel proceeded to drive me insane with his probing fingers. He fixed those eyes on me, found my vulnerable spots — all of them on edge from such constant attention these past several hours — and watched my face as I clutched him with another orgasm.

  The climax rolled over me, and rolled me over, as though I’d been caught in the undertow of a tidal wave and then scooped up, to be tossed towards the halcyon shore I’d discovered only today. How many times had I landed there? And how many times would I dare return? By the time we reached the house in town, I’d once again slipped into that boneless state that followed extreme release: I could easily have curled up on the carriage seat and slept the night.

  Yet when the tall windows came into view from Prytania, lit by the table lamps, I sensed I’d better have my story ready.

  ‘What if Chapin’s already home?’ Desperately I rewrapped the black lace, which was redolent with the scent of fresh sex. ‘What if he wonders —’

  ‘He’s been pursuin’ a new level of power, Eve,’ Dewel replied in his soothing baritone. ‘When Monique realised you were still out — if Chapin returned without you — she gave him some plausible excuse for your absence. She’s creative that way.’

  I nipped my lip, praying he was right. Hoping whoever was inside didn’t peer out to see Dewel’s carriage pulling up under the covered entrance. With a quick, nervous kiss I bade him goodnight — but Dewel would have none of that. He placed his hands on either side of my face and pressed his fine, full lips into mine as though he had every right to my passionate farewell.

  ‘Take care of yourself, sugah — until I can. If he gives you any trouble, you come to me, understand?’

  Was that a promise, or a prediction of disaster? I slipped into the house and padded barefoot towards the staircase, hoping to avoid Mrs Frike. Anyone who saw my breasts and hips jiggling beneath the translucent pattern of roses and ivy would know I’d been up to no good.

  I reached the bottom stair, thankful that the solid construction of the staircase and its carpet runner would prevent any creaking. But I’d rejoiced too soon.

  ‘Ah, Miss Eve!’ a courtly voice rang out from the study. ‘A timely arrival, indeed! We need to discuss a matter of utmost importance, regarding the dismissal of your lady’s maid.’

  My mouth fell open. Not only had Chapin made it home ahead of me, but he’d caught Monique in some sort of mischief…perhaps cornered her in a lie about my whereabouts. There was no way to escape my duties as mistress of this house; no way to avoid my husband’s censure of an appearance that looked every bit as tawdry as my situation.

  When I turned towards the perfectly groomed blond, the black lace fell open around the knee bent on the bottom step, revealing an expanse of bare leg that would’ve done a prostitute proud. My hair was askew from hanging upside down in the carriage, and my embarrassment intensified the musk
of Dewel’s most recent teasing. Yet somehow I faced my husband without bursting into tears or prostrating myself to beg forgiveness.

  Chapin’s expression hardened. ‘We’ll discuss this later,’ he growled, pivoting to precede me into his study. ‘The goings-on in this house have reached a level not even the most indulgent man would tolerate. Even if I weren’t in the political spotlight, I would nip this inexcusable situation in the bud.’

  As I entered the study behind him, Monique’s face registered her relief at my return. But her expression quickly switched to a thin-lipped mask of anger — warning me that things had been said, and my story would have to match hers. Judd Schuck stood smugly by the window, looking like a pinstiped pork barrel as he clasped his hands behind his back. The sissy maids huddled in the opposite corner, near Fanny Frike, wearing expressions that foretold my doom.

  Chapin snatched something from his desk. ‘My valet informs me that you and your maid have engaged in things no normal, decent wife would consider, much less know about. What do you say to that, Mrs Proffit?’

  He nailed me with his gaze as he held up Monique’s double dildo — the toy his dutiful new manservant had snatched from my vanity in my absence.

  A few weeks ago, I would’ve melted into the Persian rug from extreme humiliation — but no, I would’ve been dumbfounded by a device resembling two long, hard cocks curving away from a textured red centre. Exasperation overruled my fear, however. Then it was sheer wrath that made my answer strike like a snake.

  ‘If you already know the details, Mister Proffit, why do you ask?’

  21 A Proffit of Doom

  I regretted my retort immediately. But there was no right answer for a man who’d discovered his wife had a lady playmate — no matter how he found his evidence.

  ‘I’m telling you, Mr Proffit,’ Monique cut in, ‘it’s Judd Schuck who needs dismissing! How can you trust a man who watches your wife through her keyhole? Then he sneaked into Miss Eve’s room and took that toy from her vanity drawer. How do we know he didn’t also steal her jewellery?’