Awakened by a Kiss (41 page)

“Elisabeth, at the risk at sounding immodest, I have had a woman or two in love with me in the past. As clever as you are, some things are impossible to hide. Especially during and after sex. Tender looks, tender touches point clearly to tender emotions.”

Tears stung her eyes.

“You’ve spent a lifetime suppressing every emotion that would leave you exposed and susceptible. You’re afraid to be open and vulnerable.”

Was it written on her forehead? Just how obvious was she to this man?

He curled his fingers under her chin. “You’re trembling. You can’t say it, can you?”

She lowered her eyes. Part of her wanted to so badly.

He lifted her chin, capturing her gaze. “Repeat after me:
Tristan.
”

He wasn’t serious?

“It’s just my name, Elisabeth. You’ve said it many times before. At times you’ve even screamed it as you were coming.” The start of a smile pulled at the corners of his mouth.

“Let’s hear it, Elisabeth.
Tristan
.”

She took in a ragged breath and ceded. “Tristan.”

“I.”

She remained silent.

“
I
,” he pressed.

“I.”

“Love.”

Elisabeth swallowed hard against the lump constricting her throat. “L-Love.”

He smiled. “You.”

A tear slipped down her cheek. “
You
. . . so very much.” The words tumbled from her mouth, surprising her.

His smile turned into a grin. “Excellent. Now then, let’s continue:
Tristan
—Say it.”

“T-Tristan . . .”

“I want you to be my husband.”

Tears flooding her eyes were making it difficult to see his cherished face. “I want you to be my husband,” she said, the words flowing out of her mouth, unhindered.

“Because I can’t live without you.”

Quietly, she wept. “Be-Because I can’t live without you.”

He brushed a curl off her damp cheek. “That wasn’t so difficult, was it?”

She shook her head no. “Yes.”

He tossed his head back and laughed. “Elisabeth, you are one of a kind,
ma chérie
.” He gave her a soft kiss. A warm quiver shimmered down her spine.

He broke the kiss, leaving her wanting more.

“Now that you’ve agreed to marry me,” he said, “I suppose I should tell you that my conversation with His Majesty included the subject of your future husband.” Dipping his head, he whispered in her ear, “You will be my wife.”

Her knees almost gave out. It was all too incredible. So glorious! She stepped back, stunned. “How—How did you convince him? What did you say?”

“That I am the best man for you and he should give the man who saved his life and the life of his daughter, Princess Claire, the hand of his favorite offspring.”

Oh, how she loved him!

“There is one more thing I want to hear you say.” He cradled her cheek in his palm. “Tristan, I really want you to . . .”

She was beaming now. “Tristan, I really want you to . . .”

He leaned in and brushed his lips along her neck, sending shivers of delight through her. “Make love to me right now and every day for the rest of our lives.”

She laughed. And cried. And reeled with happiness. “Make love to me right now . . . and every day . . . for the rest of our lives.”

That devilish grin spread across his mouth. “Now there is a request I can’t deny.”

Then he led her to the bedchamber, her body heating up every step of the way. Once inside, they stripped away their clothing posthaste, and he tossed her onto the bed, his urgency snatching away her breath.

The press of his naked form against the length of her body was sublime. Her hungry core clenched and creamed, eager for him. He had her mouth, claiming it. Famished, she sucked his tongue into her mouth, thrilled by his groan.

His hand skimmed along her skin from her shoulder to her breast, a fiery path straight to her taut nipple. He pinched it, holding it captive between his fingers until it began to throb, a delicious pulsing sensation that radiated from her breast and echoed in her sex. She arched and writhed, delirious with need, her body on fire. He released her nipple and sucked it into his hot mouth, his wicked fingers capturing her other nipple, treating it to the same sweet torture. The sound of pleasure shot up her throat, the double pleasure almost too much to take.

“Please,” she panted. “I want you now.”

“I’m going to come inside you,” he rasped against the pulsating tip of her breast. “Do you understand me? I’m not pulling my cock out.”

All she could do was moan. The thought of him filling her with his essence made her hotter. Wetter. “Yes. Do it.”

Tristan filled her sex with one solid thrust. She wrapped her legs around him. He wanted to howl with pleasure, love and lust burning inside him with equal fervor. He couldn’t believe it when Claire had told him Elisabeth had loved him from afar for so long. He couldn’t believe the touching lengths she’d gone to just to be with him.

And he was going to spend a lifetime returning her love. Cherishing her every day.

“
Dieu
, I love you.” He pumped his hips, hitting the sweet spot on her clit with his every downstroke. “I can’t get enough of you.”

“I love you!” She was breathless and so wet, her cream was seeping from around his thick cock. “I love you, Tristan.”

She was already on the edge, and
Jésus-Christ
, so was he.

“Come for me . . . Come with me.”

Her body tensed. “Oh! I’m coming!”

Tristan gathered her tightly in his arms and rode her for all he was worth, fighting back his release, waiting for hers to hit so he could let go. He felt the tremor in her sheath, her body arch. And with her scream of rapture, he held nothing back. His come shot down his length. In shuddering waves he poured semen into her quivering cunt in hot, steady streams, driving his cock as deeply as he could with each powerful thrust. Overwhelmed by her orgasm, she moaned and whimpered, clenching all around him, her arms, her legs, her sex, sending a growl rumbling from his chest. He’d never known such stunning pleasure, such pure ecstasy, as the mind-numbing joy it was to drain himself inside her.

With her now quiet in his arms and his prick emptied, he reluctantly withdrew.

Tristan looked down at her. There was a smile in her eyes. She lifted her head off the bed, cupped his cheek, and gave him a warm kiss. He’d just come inside her, claimed her for his own, and yet she said with a lazy grin and a soft sigh, “You’re mine.”

Tristan couldn’t hold back his own grin. He nuzzled her neck. Breathed her name. “And you are mine,” he assured her.

He’d never met anyone like Elisabeth. She was the only woman he knew who could drive him wild in a pair of breeches and the most irregular boots he’d ever seen.

She made him feel like the richest man on earth. The luckiest man in the realm.

Tristan had won the heart and hand of the fair princess.

Antechamber
—The sitting room in a lord’s or lady’s private apartments (chambers).

 

Le Beau
—Masculine word for
the handsome one
or
the beautiful one
(male).

 

Caleçons
—Drawers/underwear.

 

Chambers
—Another word for private apartments. A lord’s or lady’s chambers consisted of a bedroom, a sitting room, a bathroom, and a
cabinet
(office). Some chambers were bigger and more elaborate than others. Some
cabinets
were so large, they were used for private meetings.

 

 

Chère
—Endearment for a woman (
cher
for a man). Meaning:
dear one.

 

 

Chérie
—Endearment for a woman (
chéri
for a man). Meaning:
darling or cherished one
.

Comte
—Count.

 

 

Comtesse
—Countess.

 

Dieu
—God.

 

Duc
—Duke.

 

 

Duchesse
—Duchess.

 

Fronde, the
—A civil uprising that started in 1648 and ended in 1653. Incited by power-hungry nobles, they almost dethroned their boy King. (Louis was only ten years old when it began.) Louis was forced to flee Paris in the night with his mother and live in exile for a while. He never forgot what he and his mother endured during this tense, tumultuous time. He developed a lifelong dislike and mistrust for the aristocracy. Intent on being absolute ruler, he spent his reign intimidating them.

 

 

Hôtel
—A mansion located in the city. The upper class and the wealthy bourgeois (middle class) often had a mansion in Paris (hôtel) in addition to their palatial country estate (château).

 

 

Justacorps
—A fitted knee-length coat, worn over a man’s vest and breeches.

 

 

Lettre de Cachet
—Orders/letters of confinement—without trial—signed by the King with the royal seal (
cachet
).

 

Ma belle
—
My beauty
. Endearment for a woman.

Merde
—
Shit.

 

Pour l’amour de Dieu
—
For the love of God
.

 

Salle
—Room
.

 

Salle de Bain
—Bathroom. A small room located in one’s private apartments/chambers in either a château or hôtel. The room usually had a fireplace, a tub, and a toilet (that looked like a chair with a chamber pot). The room was small on purpose so that the fire from the fireplace would keep the space warm while one bathed.

 

Salle de Buffet
—Dining Room.

 

Seigneur Dieu
—
Lord God.

Turn the page for a preview of Lila DiPasqua’s
next collection of Fiery Tales . . .

Coming November 2010 from Berkley Sensation!

“My life is over!” Louise d’Arcy exclaimed the moment after she’d yanked Aimee inside her elegant private apartments and slammed the door shut.

Aimee de Miran sighed. She’d just arrived at Versailles. Her sojourn at the palace was only ten minutes long and already she was rethinking her plan to attend court and visit with her cousin.

Dear Louise was always in the midst of chaos. It seemed now was no different.

Parched from the long carriage ride, Aimee walked over to the pitcher of water and orange slices on the ebony side table and promptly filled two crystal goblets. “Louise, darling, I’m certain your life isn’t over.” She held a goblet out to her cousin. “Now why don’t you tell me what’s wrong.”