The Royal Conquest(61)

He went silent, thinking of how he had cut himself off from physical pleasures unless he commanded it. He had never allowed anyone close, friends or family. “I built such control over my physical reactions that I would only become aroused if I allowed it. And I allowed it a lot,” he admitted with a wry chuckle. “I took dozens of lovers, the raw need in me demanding to wipe away the memory of Anya’s touch, but on my terms.”

“Why the hell did you place yourself at her mercy again?” Calydon demanded, anger riding his voice. “Did she hurt you?” he growled.

Mikhail glanced at him. “I wanted to prove I had the utmost control over my passion. I had her released from prison and taken back to the brothel with orders to make herself presentable. She knew someone from the Dvoryanstvo was visiting, so she pampered and prepared her body, no doubt hoping to secure a powerful protector who could rescue her from the hell in which she had been wallowing. When I stepped through the door…I never beheld a woman more beautiful. Of course she did not understand. I laid it out for her in clear terms. Please me, arouse my body, and then ride me to fulfillment, and she would be freed from the life imprisonment sentence that had been handed to her.”

“Christ,” Sebastian snarled.

“I sat on the chaise in her boudoir and suffered her ministration. An hour later, despite all her licking, teasing, and sucking, my cock remained flaccid. In her desperation she suggested I was impotent. That my time with her before had broken me.”

Memories twisted, and he frowned, surprised the disgust he normally felt had been reduced somewhat.

“Why the hell have you stopped?” Sebastian snapped. “Finish your story.”

Mikhail chuckled mirthlessly. “A second later, my cock stood to attention because I commanded my body to feel. To be aroused by her sensuality.”

His cousin was silent, staring at him. Then he asked, “Lady Olga?”

You are cold… Did you not think your actions would drive me to find comfort elsewhere? Lady Olga had cried, tears streaming down her cheeks, her eyes wide pools of fear and hurt, when he’d learned of her sleeping with a count. Mikhail had then tried to allow her to touch him. Nausea had churned in his gut, and cold sweat had drenched his skin within seconds. “I did not allow her touch, either, nor allow her kisses unless I granted it. And during the length of our engagement, my want for her or any other woman was nonexistent. I was content with the emptiness, and I never knew I hungered for normalcy until it was at my fingertips.”

Calydon sighed. “Payton.”

Just hearing her name stirred visceral need inside of Mikhail. She aroused his mind, body, and soul, but he knew he would not be able to bear her touch because of his damnable weakness. He should let her go. “Yes…Payton.”

“And her touch disgusts you as well?”

No. The burn of dread had been different. More unusual and strange than terrible. There had been no nausea, no shaking, and no nightmares. And I was a blasted fool to let her leave. How could he have thought to relinquish her smiles, her vivacity, and the beauty of everything about her? “I crave her caresses even when I despair the ill feeling that will come with someone touching me without permission.”

He faced his cousin. “I do not think I can relinquish her. Even if it means I will not be able to suffer her touch for years to come. The possibility of a life with her is worth the risk.” Mikhail’s heart pounded unmercifully. Would a woman like Payton accept she could never touch him, possibly for months, years? Would Payton eventually turn to another man for her needs?

Never.

She would prefer to suffer in cold silence with him. And Mikhail admitted he might never possess the willpower to let her go. “Am I a selfish bastard for wanting to trap her in a life she hates?”

“No.”

“I am willing to live in a simple cottage and eschew all of society for her happiness. I confess even such an idea is appealing.”

Calydon nodded in apparent approval. “The generous woman I know Payton to be, she will love you unreservedly. Fight for her, show her how life with you can be. I know your ruthlessness, Mikhail. Employ it so she never suffers the brunt of society’s displeasure.”

He knew what he needed to do…submit to her touch, and discover if there was hope.



The carriage rocked and swayed, carrying Payton away from Sherring Cross, away from the temptation of Mikhail. She locked her heart against the need to return to him. She’d informed no one of her departure, only packing a small valise. Jocelyn had seen her determination and offered a carriage. Payton wiped at the tears streaming down her face in annoyance. She had decided to leave, so why was she hurting so much?