Evangeline watched the sunrise coming up over the ocean. From the
veranda view of her room, she could see the whole city as well as the
sparkle of the waves. It was majestic and calming. She had woken up
early having had a restless night. She could not for the life of her
wash away the erotic images from last evening with Aristotle. The warm
feeling of his lips caressing her skin, the way his hands lingered over
her hips and his eyes admiring every curve caused her desire to spring
alive.
The arrangement was simple: be his bed mate for five months and her wretched stepfather's debt would be paid. How hard could that be? It wasn't as if Evangeline hadn't used her body to get what she wanted before. What was so different about this man? And he was just another man; a handsome one at that. But there had been (and will be) other handsome men. She couldn't loose her head over him, nor would she. She was a widow who took full advantage of her free status and enjoyed it immensely. She ran businesses better than anyone else she knew.
Then why did she fear him? She wasn't afraid of him physically, although he had done a good job of intimidating her good companion, Como. She feared what he could do to her emotionally. Feeling him enter her with that intensity and desperate need had thrown her for a loop. Her heart had pounded in her chest; still was. She had felt faint and euphoric; still did. It had taken all her strength to conjure up that cold shield; a tactic she had honed over the years to protect her from such inclinations. Most women could not do what she did; take what she wanted and walk away. They rose into the clouds and kept their heads there then became sobbing messes when their Princes turned back into frogs. She was a realist and dealt with these matters accordingly.
But last night, she grazed a cloud.
Aristotle laid in his bed staring up at the ceiling. He could still feel Evangeline's silken body connected to his. The way her cheek rubbed against his chest and her hands explored his body. She was not tentative at all. She had not hesitated in finding her pleasure or doling out pleasure in return. Other women, even the most experienced, always feigned ignorance as if they were born again virgins. But Evangeline was different. She knew she was desirable and refused to hide it. That in itself made her doubly attractive. She understood the arrangement, refused to be caught in an affair and yet did not skimp on the passion. He should be thrilled.
But he wasn't.
After leaving her room last night, more like he was politely tossed out, he had come to his room for a stiff drink, which had done nothing to quell his growing annoyance. She had dismissed him. Dismissed him! It wasn't a rude dismissal one would experience with a practiced whore. It was a simple 'thank you for your time and good night'. She hadn't been merrily floating on air or giving any signs of post coital tittering; a stark contrast from her performance in bed, which gave all the signs of ravishment and passion. Again, he should be thrilled by her refusal to be clingy.
But he wasn't.
Something about this woman made him want different. She was a woman meant to be cherished and loved. Far from any ordinary trophy wife or kept mistress, she required a lifetime of bliss. He wanted to taste her every alcove, know her every secret. He wanted her vulnerability. He didn't want to break her. Good Lord, no. For then she would loose her allure. No, he simply wanted to know what it was like to just feel more than just lust with this woman.
Fool.
He had to be mad to have such thoughts of a woman he'd just met. Shaking his head of the notion, he rose from the bed. His naked frame stood before the French doors staring out over the city. Was she awake? His manhood swelled at the possibility. Stepping out on the veranda, he glanced toward her rooms. His breath caught in his throat. Sitting in one of the wicker chairs, she was a vision of beauty. Her hair billowed against the balmy morning breeze. She wore a simple white negligee made of a sheer material that did nothing to conceal her body. As if entranced, Aris paid no mind to his own nude state and started walking toward Evangeline, who still had not noticed him.
He could already smell her. That heady smell akin to soaking roses. He could taste her, sweet, decadent. It was as if he was a slave to her body. The pain in his rod was growing the closer he drew to her. His breathing was growing ragged and his skin tingled. He wanted to ravish her.
"Evangeline."
Her golden eyes turned on him and within mere seconds a simmering seduction pooled into them. From the base of his foot to the top of his head, they caressed him, strengthening his arousal. She had said not one word but that stare spoke volumes. She wanted him.
Evangeline sat breathless, immobilized by this instant desire. Her heart pounded in her chest violently. Here she had been dreaming of this exact visage and there he stood. His hair was unbraided and flowing in the breeze like a raven blanket. His dark skin shone in the dawn light in complete smoothness, like black lacquered wood. She didn't know where she found the strength but she rose to her feet and continued to stare; words incapable of escape at the present.
It seemed moments ticked as they continued this standoff. Then in a flash, Aristotle came forward to crush her in his overpowering embrace. Evangeline wrapped her arms about his neck and crashed her lips to his drinking in his kiss like fresh water. Her body was on a war path. The earlier tingles had grown tenfold, causing moisture to pool slickly about her thighs. She felt her body being lowered back down onto the chaise lounge and the hem of her night gown being lifted. Aristotle's lips trailed down her lush frame leaving scorch marks as he went. His lusty gaze bore into her as he gripped her outer knees. Then with gentle savagery, he parted her legs and dove into her feminine pool, lapping up the moisture there.
Evangeline gasped in pure delight. The feel of his tongue in such an intimate place was doing things to her equilibrium. Her head felt so light and her body trembled. Her fingers reached for his long hair, tangling them in her grip. Her back arched, taking in more of his hot laves. His lips encircled her sensitized bud, suckling it deliciously. Never in all her years had a man done something so sexy. He was literally devouring her. Evangeline's breathing grew restless and staggering. Her hand gripped her breast to quell the jealousy her nipple was experiencing at being ignored. She bit back the scream itching the back of her throat.
My God, he's doing it to me again, she panted to herself. She had to get control of the situation, but how, when she didn't want to stop what he was doing?
Aris finally rose up to plant a wet kiss upon her mouth allowing her to taste her essence on his tongue. She nearly fainted. It was thickly sweet, making her wish for more. He straddled the chaise lounge with his long legs and prepared to bring Evangeline over him, but she had other plans. Her hand snaked out to grip his turgid flesh. The softness of her palm nearly unseeded him, causing a low growl to rumble from his throat. Now her lips burned a path down his body. However, this kitty was a biter. In strategic places along the panel of his ribs, she bite down leaving tender marks. Aris found this strangely arousing. She was marking him as hers. He knew last nights scratch marks were probably there on his back.
Finally, Evangeline had reached his core. Her eyes studied him very carefully as if she was plotting just how to tease the man. His fingers laced into her long tresses, feeling the silkiness against his skin, anticipating the pleasure she would bring. She did not disappoint. She fully encased his manhood deep within her mouth, running the tip of her tongue against the base. His head fell back as he leaned into her, rocking slowly to the rhythm she started. Shivers racked his body as her head ascended and descended over him, squeezing and suckling. She could not be real. This woman had to be a dream.
Tugging her head up gently, he pulled Evangeline closer to him, wrapping her legs about him. "I want you now," he rasped against her ear, making her smile wickedly.
That was all the warning she received before he thrusted his member deep within her depths, tossing her head back. There they sat, frozen in pleasure, taking in each other's passion. Unable to stay still, wanting more, Evangeline began to rock her hips against him. Aris held still feeling her motions wave over him, her inner muscles tightening and untightening again and again. After only a few minutes, he too began to buck, but slowly, torturously. He was delighting in her eagerness. Gripping her hair tightly, he forced her mouth back to his, drowning out her moans with his tongue.
Evangeline was loosing all sense of control. He felt too good against her quim. The friction was doing things to her. Her heart was erratic, slamming fiercely into her sternum. How could she get him more inside her than he already was? He had already stretched her to capacity, but she wanted more of him. He was stealing what little breath she had with his kissing adding to the lightness of her mind. She pulled away to latch onto his neck, biting the column to alleviate the delicious trembling course through her body.
"Evangeline," he breathed softly. "You have to be a witch."
"If I'm a witch that must make you a warlock," she teased, running her hand over the mark she'd just left. She increased her pace further, riding him like an unbroken pony.
Unable to hold back any longer, Aristotle hoisted Evangeline up, turning her toward the light of sun. Bending her over the granite rail, he reentered her again from behind. If she thought riding him had felt good, the new position now was mind frazzling. The more she had so wanted was being granted, causing swirls of ecstasy in her belly. Aristotle's hand gripped her breasts, pulling her against his chest. Her back arched in a seductive curve, taking in all he gave. Suddenly, an explosion gave off in her body, setting off a chain reaction. Her loud moans echoed across the yard, scattering the birds in the nearby trees. Knowing he had been the one to cause that pleasure sent Aristotle over the edge.
His mouth grazed her neck, hoping to mask his powerful groan.Unfortunately, the sensations she wrought from his body could not be hidden. He released himself deep within her, holding her hips prone against him. Moments passed as their breathing synchronized and their bodies returned to earth. His head fell against hers trying to steady himself.
Evangeline stared hazily into the morning light. She could still feel him throbbing within her. Lord, still her heart. Instinct rolled her hips against the ache, causing Aristotle to chuckle. Pulling her tighter against him, he stilled her movements.
"Easy, witch," he whispered in her ear. "Or else I'll never leave this place."
Evangeline chortled seductively, turning in his embrace. "So be it," she agreed, running her hands over his bare arms.
Aristotle bent down to kiss her lips, only to feel her pull back. His face registered confusion as a wicked gleam crossed her eyes. "That's enough for now," was her explanation as she walked toward her French doors, leaving him alone on his veranda. Turning around, she gave Aristotle one last look of her half naked frame and seductive smirk before closing the double doors.
He was in disbelief. She had done it again. Reeked havoc on his body, then smoothly slipped away. Anger seeped into his eyes, but it was unreasonable. What did he expect? What had he wanted? He ran a hand down his face to ease the tension, then his eyes diverted back to the now closed doors.
"Witch."
Evangeline entered the bathroom and began to draw water for a quick bath. Her body still tingled as a phantom ache pulsed her nethers. She took hold of the tub's rim to steady herself as a shiver passed through her body. It re-energized her, invigorated every piece of her. She glanced back to insure she was alone. She could not bare for anyone to see how vulnerable he made her feel. Making love to him on an open balcony in the morning light had been a thrill she had never experienced. She'd made love out in the open, but only at night, in the shadows; usually at some fete or other. But there on the veranda she was exposed to anyone who would be passing through the yard; gardeners, stable hands, guards. Aristotle was proving to be quite the adventurer.
Aristotle had re-entered his room to find his valet, Jacques, hard at work getting his things together. The fellow barely seemed phased by his employer's blatant nudity as he began to rattle off his many appointments for the day and readying his wardrobe. However, Aristotle had heard none of it for he was still fuming over his latest dismissal by his seductive houseguest. He sat still as the man combed through his long hair, then proceeded to plait them in his signature twin braids. Jacques continued with his unheard litany as he finished.
"What do you think of her?" Aristotle broke in gaining the man's attention in the mirror.
"Madame Montiero?" the valet asked, getting a curt nod from him. "She is definitely a beautiful woman, but I have not been in her presence long enough to judge her character. Why?"
"She intrigues me."
"How so?"
"She's unlike any woman I've ever dealt with. She's passionate but detached. She's a lady, yet, in turn, a practiced harlot. How can two women live in one?"
Jacques chuckled at the baffled look on his employer's face. He'd never seen Aristotle so perplexed. As long as he worked for him, he always noted how Aristotle kept woman at arms length. He indulged them when he wanted and walked away. If Madame Montiero was rebuffing his advances or deviating from what was normal to him, then she was indeed posing a challenge. And Aristotle did enjoy challenges.
"I take it she will give monsieur quite the amusement," Jacques implored.
"Indeed," Aristotle snorted adjusting his cravat. "Let's see how she enjoys a taste of her own medicine."
Jacques merely grinned at his employer's vow, but knew that Madame Montiero had the upper hand. At least for now, she did.
The arrangement was simple: be his bed mate for five months and her wretched stepfather's debt would be paid. How hard could that be? It wasn't as if Evangeline hadn't used her body to get what she wanted before. What was so different about this man? And he was just another man; a handsome one at that. But there had been (and will be) other handsome men. She couldn't loose her head over him, nor would she. She was a widow who took full advantage of her free status and enjoyed it immensely. She ran businesses better than anyone else she knew.
Then why did she fear him? She wasn't afraid of him physically, although he had done a good job of intimidating her good companion, Como. She feared what he could do to her emotionally. Feeling him enter her with that intensity and desperate need had thrown her for a loop. Her heart had pounded in her chest; still was. She had felt faint and euphoric; still did. It had taken all her strength to conjure up that cold shield; a tactic she had honed over the years to protect her from such inclinations. Most women could not do what she did; take what she wanted and walk away. They rose into the clouds and kept their heads there then became sobbing messes when their Princes turned back into frogs. She was a realist and dealt with these matters accordingly.
But last night, she grazed a cloud.
Aristotle laid in his bed staring up at the ceiling. He could still feel Evangeline's silken body connected to his. The way her cheek rubbed against his chest and her hands explored his body. She was not tentative at all. She had not hesitated in finding her pleasure or doling out pleasure in return. Other women, even the most experienced, always feigned ignorance as if they were born again virgins. But Evangeline was different. She knew she was desirable and refused to hide it. That in itself made her doubly attractive. She understood the arrangement, refused to be caught in an affair and yet did not skimp on the passion. He should be thrilled.
But he wasn't.
After leaving her room last night, more like he was politely tossed out, he had come to his room for a stiff drink, which had done nothing to quell his growing annoyance. She had dismissed him. Dismissed him! It wasn't a rude dismissal one would experience with a practiced whore. It was a simple 'thank you for your time and good night'. She hadn't been merrily floating on air or giving any signs of post coital tittering; a stark contrast from her performance in bed, which gave all the signs of ravishment and passion. Again, he should be thrilled by her refusal to be clingy.
But he wasn't.
Something about this woman made him want different. She was a woman meant to be cherished and loved. Far from any ordinary trophy wife or kept mistress, she required a lifetime of bliss. He wanted to taste her every alcove, know her every secret. He wanted her vulnerability. He didn't want to break her. Good Lord, no. For then she would loose her allure. No, he simply wanted to know what it was like to just feel more than just lust with this woman.
Fool.
He had to be mad to have such thoughts of a woman he'd just met. Shaking his head of the notion, he rose from the bed. His naked frame stood before the French doors staring out over the city. Was she awake? His manhood swelled at the possibility. Stepping out on the veranda, he glanced toward her rooms. His breath caught in his throat. Sitting in one of the wicker chairs, she was a vision of beauty. Her hair billowed against the balmy morning breeze. She wore a simple white negligee made of a sheer material that did nothing to conceal her body. As if entranced, Aris paid no mind to his own nude state and started walking toward Evangeline, who still had not noticed him.
He could already smell her. That heady smell akin to soaking roses. He could taste her, sweet, decadent. It was as if he was a slave to her body. The pain in his rod was growing the closer he drew to her. His breathing was growing ragged and his skin tingled. He wanted to ravish her.
"Evangeline."
Her golden eyes turned on him and within mere seconds a simmering seduction pooled into them. From the base of his foot to the top of his head, they caressed him, strengthening his arousal. She had said not one word but that stare spoke volumes. She wanted him.
Evangeline sat breathless, immobilized by this instant desire. Her heart pounded in her chest violently. Here she had been dreaming of this exact visage and there he stood. His hair was unbraided and flowing in the breeze like a raven blanket. His dark skin shone in the dawn light in complete smoothness, like black lacquered wood. She didn't know where she found the strength but she rose to her feet and continued to stare; words incapable of escape at the present.
It seemed moments ticked as they continued this standoff. Then in a flash, Aristotle came forward to crush her in his overpowering embrace. Evangeline wrapped her arms about his neck and crashed her lips to his drinking in his kiss like fresh water. Her body was on a war path. The earlier tingles had grown tenfold, causing moisture to pool slickly about her thighs. She felt her body being lowered back down onto the chaise lounge and the hem of her night gown being lifted. Aristotle's lips trailed down her lush frame leaving scorch marks as he went. His lusty gaze bore into her as he gripped her outer knees. Then with gentle savagery, he parted her legs and dove into her feminine pool, lapping up the moisture there.
Evangeline gasped in pure delight. The feel of his tongue in such an intimate place was doing things to her equilibrium. Her head felt so light and her body trembled. Her fingers reached for his long hair, tangling them in her grip. Her back arched, taking in more of his hot laves. His lips encircled her sensitized bud, suckling it deliciously. Never in all her years had a man done something so sexy. He was literally devouring her. Evangeline's breathing grew restless and staggering. Her hand gripped her breast to quell the jealousy her nipple was experiencing at being ignored. She bit back the scream itching the back of her throat.
My God, he's doing it to me again, she panted to herself. She had to get control of the situation, but how, when she didn't want to stop what he was doing?
Aris finally rose up to plant a wet kiss upon her mouth allowing her to taste her essence on his tongue. She nearly fainted. It was thickly sweet, making her wish for more. He straddled the chaise lounge with his long legs and prepared to bring Evangeline over him, but she had other plans. Her hand snaked out to grip his turgid flesh. The softness of her palm nearly unseeded him, causing a low growl to rumble from his throat. Now her lips burned a path down his body. However, this kitty was a biter. In strategic places along the panel of his ribs, she bite down leaving tender marks. Aris found this strangely arousing. She was marking him as hers. He knew last nights scratch marks were probably there on his back.
Finally, Evangeline had reached his core. Her eyes studied him very carefully as if she was plotting just how to tease the man. His fingers laced into her long tresses, feeling the silkiness against his skin, anticipating the pleasure she would bring. She did not disappoint. She fully encased his manhood deep within her mouth, running the tip of her tongue against the base. His head fell back as he leaned into her, rocking slowly to the rhythm she started. Shivers racked his body as her head ascended and descended over him, squeezing and suckling. She could not be real. This woman had to be a dream.
Tugging her head up gently, he pulled Evangeline closer to him, wrapping her legs about him. "I want you now," he rasped against her ear, making her smile wickedly.
That was all the warning she received before he thrusted his member deep within her depths, tossing her head back. There they sat, frozen in pleasure, taking in each other's passion. Unable to stay still, wanting more, Evangeline began to rock her hips against him. Aris held still feeling her motions wave over him, her inner muscles tightening and untightening again and again. After only a few minutes, he too began to buck, but slowly, torturously. He was delighting in her eagerness. Gripping her hair tightly, he forced her mouth back to his, drowning out her moans with his tongue.
Evangeline was loosing all sense of control. He felt too good against her quim. The friction was doing things to her. Her heart was erratic, slamming fiercely into her sternum. How could she get him more inside her than he already was? He had already stretched her to capacity, but she wanted more of him. He was stealing what little breath she had with his kissing adding to the lightness of her mind. She pulled away to latch onto his neck, biting the column to alleviate the delicious trembling course through her body.
"Evangeline," he breathed softly. "You have to be a witch."
"If I'm a witch that must make you a warlock," she teased, running her hand over the mark she'd just left. She increased her pace further, riding him like an unbroken pony.
Unable to hold back any longer, Aristotle hoisted Evangeline up, turning her toward the light of sun. Bending her over the granite rail, he reentered her again from behind. If she thought riding him had felt good, the new position now was mind frazzling. The more she had so wanted was being granted, causing swirls of ecstasy in her belly. Aristotle's hand gripped her breasts, pulling her against his chest. Her back arched in a seductive curve, taking in all he gave. Suddenly, an explosion gave off in her body, setting off a chain reaction. Her loud moans echoed across the yard, scattering the birds in the nearby trees. Knowing he had been the one to cause that pleasure sent Aristotle over the edge.
His mouth grazed her neck, hoping to mask his powerful groan.Unfortunately, the sensations she wrought from his body could not be hidden. He released himself deep within her, holding her hips prone against him. Moments passed as their breathing synchronized and their bodies returned to earth. His head fell against hers trying to steady himself.
Evangeline stared hazily into the morning light. She could still feel him throbbing within her. Lord, still her heart. Instinct rolled her hips against the ache, causing Aristotle to chuckle. Pulling her tighter against him, he stilled her movements.
"Easy, witch," he whispered in her ear. "Or else I'll never leave this place."
Evangeline chortled seductively, turning in his embrace. "So be it," she agreed, running her hands over his bare arms.
Aristotle bent down to kiss her lips, only to feel her pull back. His face registered confusion as a wicked gleam crossed her eyes. "That's enough for now," was her explanation as she walked toward her French doors, leaving him alone on his veranda. Turning around, she gave Aristotle one last look of her half naked frame and seductive smirk before closing the double doors.
He was in disbelief. She had done it again. Reeked havoc on his body, then smoothly slipped away. Anger seeped into his eyes, but it was unreasonable. What did he expect? What had he wanted? He ran a hand down his face to ease the tension, then his eyes diverted back to the now closed doors.
"Witch."
Evangeline entered the bathroom and began to draw water for a quick bath. Her body still tingled as a phantom ache pulsed her nethers. She took hold of the tub's rim to steady herself as a shiver passed through her body. It re-energized her, invigorated every piece of her. She glanced back to insure she was alone. She could not bare for anyone to see how vulnerable he made her feel. Making love to him on an open balcony in the morning light had been a thrill she had never experienced. She'd made love out in the open, but only at night, in the shadows; usually at some fete or other. But there on the veranda she was exposed to anyone who would be passing through the yard; gardeners, stable hands, guards. Aristotle was proving to be quite the adventurer.
Aristotle had re-entered his room to find his valet, Jacques, hard at work getting his things together. The fellow barely seemed phased by his employer's blatant nudity as he began to rattle off his many appointments for the day and readying his wardrobe. However, Aristotle had heard none of it for he was still fuming over his latest dismissal by his seductive houseguest. He sat still as the man combed through his long hair, then proceeded to plait them in his signature twin braids. Jacques continued with his unheard litany as he finished.
"What do you think of her?" Aristotle broke in gaining the man's attention in the mirror.
"Madame Montiero?" the valet asked, getting a curt nod from him. "She is definitely a beautiful woman, but I have not been in her presence long enough to judge her character. Why?"
"She intrigues me."
"How so?"
"She's unlike any woman I've ever dealt with. She's passionate but detached. She's a lady, yet, in turn, a practiced harlot. How can two women live in one?"
Jacques chuckled at the baffled look on his employer's face. He'd never seen Aristotle so perplexed. As long as he worked for him, he always noted how Aristotle kept woman at arms length. He indulged them when he wanted and walked away. If Madame Montiero was rebuffing his advances or deviating from what was normal to him, then she was indeed posing a challenge. And Aristotle did enjoy challenges.
"I take it she will give monsieur quite the amusement," Jacques implored.
"Indeed," Aristotle snorted adjusting his cravat. "Let's see how she enjoys a taste of her own medicine."
Jacques merely grinned at his employer's vow, but knew that Madame Montiero had the upper hand. At least for now, she did.
Thanks Lady Cheena for this Aris and Evangeline sequel. I think I might be pregnant from reading it (lol). The story of Aris and Evangeline promises to be an intriguing adventure for both the characters and the reader.
ReplyDelete