Page 64 of The Agent and the Outlaw
“I amyours,” I shouted, coming apart beneath him, around him.
With a final thrust that nearly toppled the carriage and a roar that fractured the night, he joined me inla petite mort.
We stayed braced against each other for several minutes, trying to catch our breath and hopefully avoid the awkward words that often followed. Antoine kissed the back of my neck and slid out from me, and my body immediately protested. He’d given me pleasure unlike any I’d ever known, but my need for him was unmatched. As frightening as that thought was, I didn’t want to face the consequences of our actions. I was not ready to return to the shaded reality of our world just yet.
The carriage slowed to a stop at my estate just as we were sheepishly attempting to right our clothes, and I stared at his grim, furrowed brow as he eyed his ripped breeches. I couldn’t help but laugh.
“These were my favorite breeches,” he said forlornly.
I wrapped my ripped dress around myself and took his hand. “I’ll buy you a new pair. Now, come inside. I’m certain I have something appropriate you can wear—or not.”
His green eyes flashed with hope and despair and lust like a promise, and he opened his mouth to say something rational. I stopped him with a finger to his lips.
“Tomorrow, Antoine. Just this tonight,” I whispered. I dropped a kiss on his lips, and he nodded.
We exited the carriage and I winked at my driver’s knowing smirk as we descended. I led Antoine upstairs to my bedchamber. He was quiet, as he always was, but I sensed a change in him. As soon as I shut the door, I was on him again, pressing my lips to his and meeting his eager tongue stroke for stroke.
Dieu, is this part of my supernatural state? Or is this something else entirely?
I pulled his shredded clothes off, casting them to the side. He really was beautiful—a study of hard muscles beneath golden skin and dark hair, staring at me with that mix of lust and possession that made my head spin.
“You realize at some point, we are going to have a conversation about Gévaudan, your turning, Grandrieu, and my father,” he said, slowly tugging my skirts back down my hips. They fell to the floor in with a soft swish.
“Of course,” I nodded, running my fingertips over his sculpted abdomen. “We obviously desire each other to the point of madness. We’re just doing this to get it out of the way. When we’re done, we’ll be able to focus. Honestly, it would be irresponsible of us to try to settle things before we were satiated.”
He grinned at the lie but made no argument. My hands trailed down the dusting of dark hair at his bellybutton and he sucked in a breath. He raised a hand to caress my cheek and tilted my face up to his.
“There are other things I want to discuss with you, Charlotte,” he said in a low, deep voice. My belly flipped, and before I could remember every logical reason that separated us, I allowed myself a moment to entertain the idea of what he might say. A brief wave of warmth and happiness washed over me. I stepped backward to the bed and beckoned to him.
“Certainly,” I smiled seductively as he devoured me with a heated gaze. “But if there are things you wish to say to me, you’ll have to come whisper them in my ear.”
He smiled that heart-achingly handsome smile, dimples and all, and crawled forward to me. His touch was tender, languid, not the frenzied need from earlier. The sweetness of it was at once too much and not enough.
My anger and frustration hadn’t evaporated, but they waited in the corner of my mind.Charlotte, you damned fool. You know you cannot have him. You cannot be with him. He is an outlaw and will probably go to prison if he murders his father. He will insist you leave les DD and the Order. Even if these things are surmountable, there is one thing remaining that is not: you are a werewolf, and he is human.
Antoine noticed my distracted mind and pulled away instantly, worry etched on his handsome, scarred face. “Charlotte, are you well? Do you wish me to stop?”
I shook my head, squeezing my eyes shut against the tears that threatened to fall. “No,chéri.Not tonight. Do not stop for anything tonight.”
He gave me a relieved smile and muttered a rough, “ThankGod,”and bent to kiss me. It was soft and sweet and promised a night of dark pleasures ahead.
If only that could be enough.
22
ANTOINE
December 14, 1767
Château de Ruisseau Magdelaine
I wokefrom what surely had been a dream. Cracking one eye open, I stared into Charlotte’s slack, sleeping face and smiled.Not a dream.I was in a massive bed, tangled in the softest sheets I’d ever felt, entwined with the only woman who alleviated as much suffering as she caused. She snored lightly and I swallowed a laugh. Her eyes fluttered open, and she gave me a slow smile.
“Any regrets?” she asked.
“Only that I didn’t come round sooner,” I said, pulling her into my arms.
“Mmm,” she said through a yawn. “Why didn’t you?”
