Page 68 of Angel's Flight
That might have been the last civilized thought she had before he began to drive into her, fast and frantic for release.It was rough and relentless, his cock filling her so completely and touching her so deeply she could hardly comprehend it.In mere moments, she was rushing to her peak, her body quaking as they gave into pleasure.
“Yes.That’s so good.You’re so good, my love.You’re—” The climax stole the words from her throat and the breath from her lungs.Erik gave a perfect cry above her, joining her and filling her with hot seed.He pumped and shuddered even as Christine went limp, her body no longer subject to her commands.
But he was.He always would be.
They collapsed onto the bed, together and his lips finally found hers.He tasted of salt – of tears or sweat or both – and he kissed her long and deep, pure love in the embrace.Finally, after what felt like forever, she opened her eyes to meet her husband’s.They were glowing with adoration.
“I believe you now,” Erik whispered, forehead against hers.“Dear God, I believe you.”
“For now,” Christine sighed back.“I fear I may have to remind you again at some point.”
“It’s highly possible,” Erik replied with laughter in his voice.He looked so unburdened in that moment, so free and full of joy.Christine had given him that, somehow, with a crop and commands; she had driven back the dark from his heart and mind.And hers too.There would be no nightmares tonight for either of them.
“I think another such lesson would be a true delight,” she whispered back and kissed him again.
Paris
Shaya wondered as heglared out of his window across theRue de Rivoliand to the Tuileries if he should have offered to meet young Margaret Giry at the Opéra instead of his home.It wasn’t that he minded having guests – it was that Meg wasn’t adept at taking hints when it was time to leave.The night before he had assigned her reconnaissance at the de Chagny manor, she had stayed long past supper, chatting with Darius about all manner of things from vegetables to their travels.They seemed to enjoy it, but it made Shaya sympathetic to Erik’s choice of life in a secluded cellar.
Shaya frowned at the thought of Erik.He had been a recluse in his way in Persia when Shaya had first known him.It had only been thanks to Ramin that Erik had socialized at all, and grudgingly so.Shaya tried to imagine him now, out there in the wide world, with Christine beside him.What were they doing?Had they settled anywhere?Had he truly changed?Shaya knew the last answer in his heart but doubt still nagged at him.
The man Meg had overheard had been injured.Had it been Erik?Had he meant to kill?
Shaya recognized Meg’s knock and scowled as he went to open the door.
“Did you see me on the street?”Meg asked without ceremony, barging right inside.“I was trying not to be seen, like you suggested.It’s not hard if you walk along the galleries.Where is Darius?”
“Making the tea,” Darius said as he emerged from the kitchen with a tray of cups and a pot.
“Do you have those biscuits again?With the nuts?”Meg asked with wide eyes.
“You ate the last of them, but I’ll make more soon.”Darius smiled and gave Shaya a look.“I’m glad someone appreciates them.”
“I appreciate them,” Shaya crowed.“Pistachios are just bloody expensive and impossible to find.”
“Of course,” Darius smiled.“Now, Mademoiselle Giry, don’t keep us waiting.What did you discover?”
“It’s as you suspected,” Meg began, and Shaya felt a rush of pride mixed with dread.“Sabine de Chagny is with child.It’s probably why she hasn’t been seen.”
“She wants to avoid a scandal,” Shaya muttered.“She cares about her family name, even though she will claim she wed de Martiniac before he...disappeared.”
The lie in the word was bile on Shaya’s tongue.He remembered the certainty in what he had done, the justice in it.But he had still taken a life and left this unborn child without a father.Then again, knowing everything about Antoine de Martiniac, Shaya had perhaps spared the mother a marriage to a monster and the child being raised by one.Not an easy thing, either way.
“But she still wants his fortune, I think,” Meg went on, and Shaya could see her mind working.“That’s what the man Pomeroy was talking to said they were after: a fortune.”
“That doesn’t make sense, de Martiniac was broke,” Darius mused aloud.
“He was, but when he had plans,” Shaya bit his lip.There were things that Meg couldn’t know about Antoine’s plots.“He was close to claiming one.”
“He and his wife – I guess we can call the Vicomtesse that – have that in common.Her family is struggling.”
“The de Chagny family?”Shaya asked.This was new and vital information.“They always lived so richly.”
“Philippe, I think, was good at spending money and not at keeping it flowing,” Meg answered knowingly.“The house has been stripped of valuables and the Comte made remarks about his brother’s bad hand for business.”
“So you spoke to Raoul?”Shaya asked, and Meg nodded.
Shaya wanted to ask how the man was – for he certainly was a man now, not the naïve boy who had been twisted by all this calamity into a creature of hate that bordered on madness.But what would be the point, when he knew the answer would be that any light that had been in him was snuffed out now.
