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Evie
Evie slipped into the hot water and felt her body relax. Even with the Villain sitting feet away, radiating tension, it felt good. She washed the grime of travel and the extravagant makeup off, feeling more herself as she went. Tension left her limbs, contrasting the hard knot in the pit of her stomach.
“Sir,” she asked, “why are you restraining yourself?”
“What?” She could hear the arm of the chair snapping under his grip. But she needed to know. Was all this performance of wanting just lust on his part? Was that why, to spare her feelings? If so, she really would back off. Lust was fun to toy with, but Evie knew she would just wind up hurt if she indulged in it. Not when she loved him.
“You know how I feel. I thought that . . . well. I guess it doesn’t matter. You’ve made it clear you don’t feel the same way.”
Trystan groaned and walked to the fireplace. Evie could see the tension in his back. In the mirrored ceiling she could see the tension in his scalp, and in the way his hands gripped the mantle. He was mumbling to himself.
“What are you saying?”
He looked up, and Evie saw the torment in his face reflected in the mirror.
“I’m sorry.” It was automatic. But it was also true. She meant to tease him, to playfully torment him. Not to cause the kind of deep pain she could see now. Trystan only laughed.
“We’re supposed to destroy each other. Did you know that? ‘She will destroy you and you will be her undoing,’ the Destiny Monster told me,” He laughed again. It sounded almost like a sob. “Of course I can’t protect you from me. I’m The Villain. I can only destroy.”
He pressed his head against the wall. His shoulders shook.
Evie suddenly felt exposed and trapped, naked in the bath. She rose and wrapped a towel around herself, then sat on the edge of the bed, still behind him. “I didn’t know. If I had I would’ve . . . I dunno. What do you think it meant, ‘undoing’? Like, everything I do is thwarted, or like throwing caution to the wind? I guess the second one I sort of do anyway. I swear I try to plan. You don’t want to know how many ideas pop into my head that I don’t act on.”
She was babbling, but she had to do something to fill the silence. Trystan hadn’t moved while she spoke.
“I refuse, Sage. I don’t care what it said, I refuse to harm you.” He turned to look at her, “Oh gods, Sage! Please get dressed.” He spun back toward the fire.
Evie walked over to the discarded dress, laying it on the bed and trying to see what she could do with it. “Um. Sir. I don’t think this is going to hold if I try to put it back on.”
Trystan didn’t move. Didn’t speak.
“I’ll, um” Evie cast about the room. “I’ll wrap myself in a sheet.” She pulled it off the bed and wrapped it around herself, knotting it over one shoulder. Of course it was too long, so she shuffled over to the discarded piece of silk, tied it around her waist, and bloused the fabric over it until she could walk.
“There! All safe now.” she smiled to herself. Until Trystan turned and took her in. His eyes burned into her. There was nothing to see, covered in yards of shapeless fabric, but she felt him memorise every inch of her anyway.
“No. Never safe,” he sighed. He stalked over to a small couch and threw himself down, covering his face with a pillow.
“What in the deadlands is that supposed to mean?” Evie demanded.
“I mean I can’t trust myself. You’re my apprentice. You’re the first joyful thing in my life in, gods, at least ten years. Do you know how hard it is to be evil when you start looking forward to little milk hearts drawn in your morning cauldron brew? And now I’m going to ruin you. Just like everything else I touch. No. Not you. I won’t ruin you, no matter what it said.”
“You like my milk hearts! I knew it!” Evie let herself smile. To the deadlands with everything else he said, he liked her cheeriness, and that was reason enough to keep going.
Trystan sat up and looked at her.
“Sage. You are the most magnificent person I’ve ever encountered. You are wild and unstoppable and brilliant and my life has never been more right than in the six months since you walked into it. And I’m supposed to undo all of that. No. Unacceptable. I refuse to do you harm.”
“It’s a little late for that, sir.” Evie bit out.
“What?” Suddenly he was in front of her, desperation in his eyes. “How?”
“Do you honestly think that just because I’ve accepted that my feelings are unrequited it doesn’t hurt? That every time you pull away from me or think less of me it isn’t a knife in the gut? That every time you kiss me doesn’t leave me terrified for the fall back out of your favor afterwards? Are you seriously so afraid of some nebulous prophecy that you don’t see how much you’re hurting me right now?” Evie was yelling. She hadn’t realized she was marching towards him until he thumped heavily down, backed into the couch.
The Villain stared up at her, astonished. Selfish bastard, she thought, and stomped across the room to curl up in the bed.
Trystan
Trystan held his head in his hands. Fool. Selfish idiot. You really do ruin everything good you touch.
“Evie, I’m so sorry.” It wasn’t enough, the words felt like ash on his tongue. Evie didn’t move.
He was out of his depth. Expressing emotion had never been one of Trystan’s strengths, and ten years of walling himself off from them meant he had no idea where to begin. Or even if he should begin. He had vowed never to feel for anyone again when he began down the path of villainy.
He walked over to the bed and knelt down in front of Sage. She was staring blankly into space, her hair fallen across her face. Trystan gently brushed it back. Her eyes focused on him, full of unshed tears. She glowered, her nose scrunching up adorably. Trystan nearly cried himself at having hurt her so thoroughly. Then she rolled over, turning her back to him.
“Go bathe,” she said. “It’s not like I can go anywhere.”
Trystan rose and moved to the bath. The water now was tepid and the tub was inevitably cramped for him, but she was right that it felt good to at least be clean. As he dressed he wished for anything other than the ridiculous red silks to change into. He was buttoning the shirt as far as it would go - which was not far enough in his opinion - when Sage spoke again.
“Color suits you.” She was looking up into the mirror. He did the same and saw her face calmer.
He tried to pitch his voice as gently as possible as he asked “How long have you been watching me?”
“Only just now.”
That was unlike her. Trystan had been catching Evie staring at him out of the corner of his eye since the first week of work. At first he thought she was scared of him. It made him want to impress on her just how ruthless he could be. Tonight’s argument put those stolen glances in a new light. He walked to the bed and sat down by her feet. Evie’s feet poked out of the makeshift dress she wore. She had adorable toes. Trystan had never thought much about toes, but these were Evie’s toes. Of course they were perfect. And a blister on the back of each heel. He ran his hand over her ankle, circling but not touching the damage.
“How did you get that?”
“Those cursed sandals Lord Fowler included with his costume.” She didn’t pull away. He kept his hand over her foot.
“We can add hobbling you to his list of offenses when we burn this place to the ground.”
“Why thank you, Evil Overlord. I didn’t know you cared.” There was a sarcastic bite to her voice.
“Trystan,” he said.
“What?”
“Call me Trystan. The man who tortures people when he can’t sleep and came up with Scatter Day and the man you’ve somehow fallen in love with are the same person. It’s all me, Evie. I’m not going to suddenly stop being The Villain because I love you.”
“WHAT?” Evie bolted up, pulling her feet under herself to sit. She was wild-eyed and her curls were beyond human control. With the sheet tangled around her it put Trystan in mind of a trapped forest nymph. He wanted to strip it off her, set her free, and see what she did to him. Something horrible and wonderful.
Trystan brought himself back and tried to focus on the question, “I’m not going to transform into a different person for you. I’m vindictive and violent and very good at ruining things. There’s no heart of gold here to unlock through the power of ‘true love.’”
“No, the other thing. You miss-spoke, right?”
Trystan thought through his words carefully. Oh. Well that slipped out. Fuck. She was giving him an out. Of course he misspoke. He was exhausted and angry and flustered by the absolute goddess in front of him. He misspoke. Evie would stop intentionally tormenting him. A safe professional distance would grow between them as she became more capable at whatever she put her mind to. Until one day he would look up and she wouldn’t be there. She’d be off being amazing somewhere else. Trystan choked. He couldn’t get any air and doubled over on the bed. This was worse than the Fortis vines because there was nothing to fight but himself. His mind went black. This was worse than his family betraying him. That hurt. This felt like dying.
“No,” he croaked. He took a breath. “I love you, Evie Sage. Even if it dooms us both.”
Evie hugged him from behind. Once again he tried to remember the last time he’d received a loving touch before she came into his life. A slap on the back under Benedict’s tutelage? A grudging hug from one of his siblings? Had his father hugged him before he departed for the palace? Trystan couldn’t remember. He tried to relax into it and gently leaned back towards her. Evie’s chin was on his shoulder, the side of her face gently touching his head. He shifted, and tentatively kissed her cheek.
Evie responded by coming around and kissing his lips. To get there she slid her body along his upper arm and ended up half in his lap. After the incredibly long day they both had the sensation nearly knocked him over.
So he went with it. Trystan wrapped his arms around her and pulled her on him as he fell back on the bed. Her weight atop him drove him mad. He could feel his pulse in his cock. This time he did not care if she noticed how hard he was. She straddled him and he pulled her down against him. Her thigh brushed against his hardness and he moaned into their kiss.
Evie responded by pulling back and grinning wickedly down at him. Their faces were encased in her curls. Then she started kissing down the deep V of his shirt, unbuttoning it just before kissing the skin each button had covered. Her hair was across his face and Trystan was enveloped in the scent of roses.
He brought his hands to the knot of the sheet and untied it. He slid his hand down her shoulder and cupped one small, tender breast. He ran his finger over her nipple. That stopped her kisses and elicited the most delicious moan he had ever heard.
In response, Trystan pulled her up and flipped her onto her back, then descended on her breast, alternately kissing and nibbling at her soft flesh and pert nipple.
Between gasps he heard her ask, “So we’re being this cliche?”
“Don’t care,” he responded. “I love you. I dream of being with you. Waking up,” he brought his kisses down her stomach, unwrapping her from the sheet, “in your arms.”
Trystan untied her sash and caressed one beautiful thigh. He kissed it. “Your thighs haunt my dreams.”
Evie laughed. He smiled up at her and brushed his face along her leg.
“Oh, that tickles!” Evie cried out, squirming. “In all my fantasies I never imagined that your stubble would tickle!”
“And what is in your fantasies?” Trystan wanted to know. He stopped toying with her thigh and came up to lay against her.
“Well, there was one where we broke your desk. . .” Evie blushed as she looked at him.
Trystan laughed. “I don’t think even together you and I could break that desk. I’ve thrown men twice your size into it without it budging, and it took three people to move into the office. The things on the desk however . . .” he trailed off to kiss her lips, wrapping one arm around her and leaning partially over her.
Evie responded by pulling him down onto her. With her hands in his hair she arched her back and threw one leg around his waist, pressing her naked body into him. Trystan could feel her wetness through his pants. Only a thin layer of silk separated his aching cock from her. He needed out of these cursed pants.
She seemed to share the sentiment. One arm replaced the leg around him, the other hand slid between their bodies. He made space for her to fumble with his buttons.
If Trystan couldn’t feel her cunt pressed against him, he must feel it with his fingers. He ran one hand down her side, then along the edge of her stomach and thigh, and between her legs. He thumbed her clitorous while running two fingers along her labia, feeling the contours of her sex.
Evie’s hands gave up after the second button and plunged into his trousers, sliding along the shaft of his cock. In return, Trystan slid his fingers into her wet pussy. Oh, the feel of her, soft, warm, wet, and tightening against his fingers brought Trystan’s mouth out of their kiss. Their breath stuttered in time to their hands, synchronizing quickly. Trystan could feel his climax approaching with hers and pinned her hand against her thigh.
“Not me yet, my love,” he managed. Her hand stilled as he stroked her into climax. Her hips thrust against his hand with such force he had to fight to keep his hand steady. Trystan matched her and augmented with a come hither gesture inside her. Evie cried out beautifully in his arms and began gasping for air. As her orgasm subsided he kissed her around her panting.
“Did you know, my tornado, that you can do that more than once?” Trystan whispered in her ear. Then he began teasing her earlobe, his fingers still within her. Only his thumb brushed over her mound. He delighted in the curls of her pubic hair, taking care to do no more than brush briefly against her clit for the moment. Let her catch her breath.
But her hands were back at the closure of his trousers as soon as he had spoken. He let her push them down as far as she could reach. Then he did release his hand from between her legs long enough to extricate himself from the damned silk.
Before Trystan could resume his dextrous ministrations, she pulled him back atop her and wrapped both legs around him. She was squirming beneath him, brushing the head of his cock with her labia, threatening to pull herself onto him.
Trystan grabbed both sides of her head in his hands, using his weight to stop her movement.
“Evie, are you certain you want this? Say the word and I stop.” He looked down at her, trying to convey safety.
“Yes! Please, Trystan,” Evie practically begged, as she tried to squirm beneath him.
“I can please you lots of ways. I have not been having Clare cast prevention spells, have you?” Trystan watched what he was saying sink in.
“I don’t care,” Evie insisted below him as she writhed.
“I do.” Trystan shifted and locked his thighs around one of hers, blocking her ability to fuck him while maintaining full-body contact, “You deserve better than carelessness.”
He wanted her. He ached for her. A part of him resented having to be the responsible one. As the eldest of the Maverine siblings it was a role Trystan was used to. Even as the villain he’d never fully been able to shake it, protecting his inner circle of employees as he had his younger siblings. As he did Evie now. He knew most of the blackguards dining downstairs wouldn’t give a thought to the consequences of their actions. The thought crossed his mind that Trystan was even horrible at being The Villain.
He shut that thought away by kissing Evie again. One hand cradled her breast, the other tangled in her hair.
Evie
Evie writhed beneath Trystan, frustrated at being denied. She knew, logically, that he was right. But she ached for him with every fiber of her being. There was a negative space inside her where he should fit, and not having him in it almost hurt.
Trystan pulled and tweaked at her nipple, and the pleasurepain of it arched her back and neck.
“Please,” Evie cried, “please. I need. Oooh, I need.”
She could feel Trystan kissing down her neck. When his lips reached her breast he released her nipple from his fingers and took it in his mouth. His teeth scraped against her skin and her mind went blank, then he kissed and soothed her tenderness. His hand slid down her stomach and back between her legs. Evie’s hips rose to meet his fingers almost of their own accord, and Evie was swept away in sensations. She came fast and hard as his fingers worked inside her and he thumbed her most sensitive spot. The synchronicity of his tongue on her nipple and his hand on her clit was so powerful that she couldn’t focus to see their reflection above her, despite her open eyes staring at the mirrored ceiling.
Trystan was kissing his way down her panting stomach. He’d shifted off her leg at some point and knelt to one side of Evie. Both hands were stroking her thighs and she could see him shift his weight, preparing to slide down the bed to put his mouth on her sex.
Instead of letting him, Evie reached for Trystan’s near leg and pulled on it.
“Come here, shift this way,” she demanded.
Trystan quirked an eyebrow at her, but didn’t stop covering Evie’s stomach with kisses. His tongue darted between his lips at her navel. Evie squirmed pleasantly at the sensation. It had never occurred to her before that her navel could be sexy, but him doing that was. She almost forgot what she was about. But there was Trystan’s own sex shifting towards her, and she reached out with her mouth to kiss the shaft of his cock.
Trystan whimpered at the sensation of her kiss. Emboldened, Evie ran her tongue the length of his hardness. Evie could see his abdomen and thighs tense in response. The moan she elicited from Trystan seemed to resonate through his whole body. When she gently cupped his balls in one hand, he stopped kissing and exhaled her name into her pubic hair. The feel of her name on her most sensitive skin sent a shiver through Evie.
Trystan kissed her clit, then sucked as though he was drawing breath, and Evie lost track of what she was doing. Her hands seemed to have a mind of their own though, one helping her find balance and purchase and the other caressing the base of his hardness. As he withdrew his mouth, Evie slid her own over the head of his cock.
The height difference made everything tricky. Evie could only receive a third of his length, and Trystan’s kisses were as much on the insides of her thighs as her sex. She was aware that he was doing as much with his hands as with his mouth. But sharing this sensation with him was worth it. And such hands. Twice more he brought her to a climax so hard Evie had to stop what she was doing with her own mouth and cry out. Each time she could feel him respond to her own orgasm through the haze of pleasure.
As he brought her close again, Evie instead focused on exactly what she was doing with her mouth and hand. While she felt her own orgasm cresting, a part of her focused on continuing the sucking and caressing she was doing. She was rewarded by a tensing of Trystan’s body, then finally his own shuddering orgasm. She received his saltiness into her mouth and continued to suck and swallow as Trystan’s ministrations fell away and he cried her name.
Evie was overwhelmed by the sensation of Trystan’s orgasm. This was nothing like the awkward and frankly disgusting head she had given Rick in alleys and haylofts. That had been rushed, uncomfortable, and mostly for his pleasure. Trystan had focused almost entirely on pleasing her. It was overwhelming to be the focus of so much attention. She was, frankly, sore. It was good that they ended now. As it was Evie wasn’t looking forward to having to get on a horse in the morning. She rolled onto her back, expecting Trystan to do the same.
Instead, she could feel him continuing to gently kiss her hips and idly run his fingers up and down her legs. She looked down her body and caught Trystan’s eye. There was a question there that she couldn’t figure out.
“Trystan.”
“Yes?”
“If you make me cum again I won’t be able to walk tomorrow.”
He chuckled. It was a beautiful, low sound. Less a vocalization and more the exhalation of air. She could see this laugh came from the diaphragm, a body response Evie wondered if he even meant to do.
“You should relax then. Stare into the mirror and see what I see,” Trystan said.
Evie did, and watched him gently kiss and caress his way back up to her face, ending with his strong body pressed against her side. She rolled towards Trystan and hugged him. Then she pulled back to look at his face.
“Trystan, can you do something for me?” she asked.
“Hrm? What is it, Evie?”
“Could you, please, not pull back and disappear on me for days at a time after this?” Evie fought not to babble at him. Instead, silence filled the space.
As the moment lengthened, Evie felt herself tensing in Trystan’s arms. She almost got up from the bed when he finally spoke.
“I can try. I’m . . . this is . . . hard. And new to me.” Trystan paused. “Not sex. Loving someone. I haven’t . . . even before. There wasn’t anyone . . .”
Evie hugged him tight. It hadn’t occurred to her that part of why Trystan hadn’t acted before was that he didn’t know how.
“I know we’re busy. We have a prophecy to complete, the Destiny Monster’s warning to thwart, and a frog to turn into a prince. It’s a lot. Just don’t shut me out. Not just because I love you. Because I can actually contribute, Villain.”
Evie gave Trystan’s ribs a poke as she finished speaking. He flinched and smiled at her.
“Next time you have an idea, Little Tornado, just run it by me before you leap into action. I don’t mind hurling people to their death for you, but it shouldn’t be my primary reason for defenestration.”
“I dunno,” Evie laughed, “It seems to have worked out well for us this time. And is it even defenestration if it’s from a balcony?”
“Semantics,” Trystan said. Evie could hear his eyes roll. She snuggled against him and felt herself fall into sleep.