Page 55 of The Assassin and the Libertine
Fighting the animal urgency to take her hard and fast, I focused instead on her—on the beautiful way she embraced her sensuality. The way she looked above me, eyes half-closed in hunger, yet watching me bring her to the brink. I slid a second finger inside her, and her other hand let loose her gown, draping me beneath the weight of her skirts. I did not mind. I wanted to watch her come apart from every angle, and soon I heard the escalation of her cries telling me that I was succeeding. Her pleasure crested and she screamed, clutching my head as her legs gave way. In a moment of selfishness, I let my fangs extend and nipped at the vein in her thigh—not to feed, but just to taste.One last taste of perfection.She cried out again as a second orgasm rolled through her—my favorite benefit of drinking from this part of the body.
Dieu, how could I live without this? You must,logic argued.For her.
I licked the wound closed and caught her as she fell, holding her tightly and laying her down on the thick Persian carpet.
For one satisfying moment, she lay sated and panting in my arms. I still ached with need, but it was a small price to pay for such a thorough distraction from her damaging line of questions. She sighed, slung one arm over my chest, and nuzzled into my shoulder. My chest tightened at the tenderness in the gesture. She looked up at me, eyes finding mine in the flickering candlelight.
“As enjoyable as that was, you never answered my question, Étienne. Why are you here tonight?”
Putain.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
DAPHNE
October 31, 1765
Palace of Versailles
The panicthat flashed across Étienne’s face almost made me laugh.Poor thing. He’d really believed he could just kiss me into forgetting my questions. What kind of a simpering fool did he take me for?
He was quiet, staring fixedly at my bare breasts, eyes hazy with lust and his breathing still shallow. I knew he wasn’t going to answer me—or if he was, it would be some kind of falsehood. It didn’t matter. If he thought he could control me by using my lust as a weapon, he’d just learned that I am not so easily victimized.
I sighed and sat up, tugging my bodice back in place and smoothing the wrinkles from my gown. Étienne stood, helping me to my feet. I blushed at seeing his rather conspicuous excitement, and he smiled predatorily at me.
“How fitting that you would come dressed as vestal Artemis and I as the poor, hapless stag,” he chuckled, his voice a lowrumble that vibrated through me. “Actaeon stumbling upon his lovely goddess, only to be struck down and ripped to pieces by her hounds.”
I smirked and tied my mask back on.
“Oh? And here I thought you showed up as a stag to engage in some mindless rutting with some poor, unsuspecting doe.”
“It is never mindless, Duchesse,” he purred.
“Well, it’s lucky for you I left my hounds at home, then.”
He came up behind me and kissed the back of my neck.
“What is your plan?”
“Why?”
“Because I’m going to help you. You cannot face Asmoday and the as-yet unknown summoner by yourself, Daphne, which is what I know you intend to do. It would beungentlemanlyfor me to go back on our original agreement. Consider the last several days a temporary setback in our progress.” He bowed with exaggerated gallantry.
Irritated, I adjusted my crown and re-pinned a few of the curls that had come loose during our tryst.
“Ourprogress? Forgive me if I’m misremembering, Étienne, but it’s been by my wits alone that we’ve madeanyprogress at all. Bringing Van Helsing to you was my idea, as was searching Brigitte’s bedroom, as was seeking out the book that led us to Asmoday. Well, I had Charlotte’s help for that, but my point is, Monsieur, that you overestimate your usefulness to me.”
“Oh, you think so? I hate to disappoint you, Duchesse, but if I hadn’t brought you to Jeanne’s grave, you’d still be laboring under the false information supplied to you by The Order. And how would you have found Brigitte and the bookshop if not for me?” Étienne’s temper flared as he straightened his hair in its queue.
“We were led to Brigitte because you fucked her and she tried to kill you, Étienne. Perhaps that’s how we should proceed, then.You can hump your way to the truth and seduce Asmoday and his summoner all the way back to Hell. While you’re at it, why not visit The Order, as well? You might find your way off their hit list, and then the whole useless lot of you can stand around and stroke each other’s massive egos while Paris bleeds around you.”
Hurt flashed in Étienne’s eyes, but was gone almost as quickly as it had appeared. “You sound rather bitter for someone who seems to enjoy my seduction so well.”
I bristled. “Yes, well, given my past, I’m sure I would have enjoyed myself with any man who didn’t leave me bruised or bleeding after the act.”
“Your low expectations of lovers don’t insult me, Duchesse—what is it you so often say? ‘I assure you, I’ve heard worse’. Especially here, at court. They call me ‘a delightful beast’,you know. Not a paramour. Not a vampire. Not a man.” His cocksure manner slipped, and for the first time, I saw him radiate sadness, insecurity, and loneliness.
“Then, why do you do it?” I asked.
