“It’s a less strong person who doesn’t admit their faults or mistakes.” He ran the backs of his fingers down her cheek. “So long as you don’t put us in the same category.”
“Can there truly be an… us?” she whispered.
He lifted an inquiring brow. “You mean to ask if there can be anything lasting between a witch and a clairvoyant?” He smiled in a wicked manner. “If there hasn’t been one before, then there certainly should be one now.” He stepped back to give her some room. “But if you are not prepared to engage in anything more than what just happened, I shall respect your wishes. Just know that my only intention is to please you. Nothing more, and nothing less. I shall never ask for more than you are willing to give.” He turned away from her, saying over his shoulder. “I do wish you would consider moving into the north wing so that I might keep you close, and sleep well knowing that you are safe.”
Chapter 10
Marlene returned to her chambers in a sort of daze. She still couldn’t believe that she’d allowed Sir Gothry such liberties. She wanted to blame it on the brandy she’d consumed, or perhaps even the tonic she’d had before then, but it would be a lie. As soon as he’d kissed her, she’d been lost to everything but the desire swirling in her veins.
She ought to be horrified by her actions, filled with guilty regret, but it had been so… erotic. She considered what would happen should she move into the adjoining room to his and realized it would be a great folly. She knew she would end up in his bed at some point. The sad thing was, she didn’t care.
She stood at her terrace window that evening, attired in her nightdress, and brought Alaric to mind. It seemed almost ridiculous at this point to continue referring to him as Sir Gothry after the intimacies they’d shared. At least when she brought him to mind, she could call him by his given name. At times, it was difficult to imagine her life when he wasn’t part of it, but it wasn’t such a short time ago that she didn’t know of his existence, and now she was the unlikely lover of a witch.
A witch. She couldn’t quite wrap her mind around it all.
Perhaps that was the only thing that was giving her pause.
The last thing she needed was to end up losing her hear—or worse, with child— when she had no idea what the future held for either of them.
Fear coursed through her veins whenever she recalled that vivid scene in the field of bright red poppies and she shivered.
Sleep would not be coming easily to her this night.
A slight breeze blew in off of the moors, carrying with it the enticing scent of the heather that grew in abundance along the expanse. She was grateful that there was a break in the ever present fog this evening. It was an extraordinarily brilliant and warm night, and yet, the only thing she could think of was returning to Alaric, just to be close to him. To feel the security of his arms surrounding her, to revel in the sensation of his mouth upon hers…
Her hands tightened on the railing, and she closed her eyes. Inhaling deeply, she parted her lips on an exhale, and she could feel the slight pressure of something against her lips. She started to open her eyes, but a familiar, masculine voice whispered next to her ear. “Keep them closed.”
A gasp escaped her as Alaric’s finger traced a delicate path along her upper lip, and then down across her lower. On instinct, her tongue darted out to moisten the same path. She was rewarded with the feeling of her nipples being tweaked slightly. She leaned her head back as he continued to toy with her breasts. His hands eclipsed them fully, kneading, and causing her head to spin with pleasure.
She had the sensation of dancing on air but realized that he was steadily pressing her backward. When her knees hit the edge of the bed, she sat down. A hand was sliding up the back of her calf, along the bend of her knee, and then finally across her thigh. Her breathing was starting to become erratic now, imagining what he was planning on doing next. She thought perhaps he might touch her, and when his other hand fell upon her opposite thigh and pressed her legs apart, she was certain that was his intention.
But when his tongue slid along her sex, she clutched the counterpane on either side of her and lifted her hips. His palms slid around to her buttocks, where he clutched them in his greedy grasp. The assault continued as he licked her eagerly. She met his rhythm and matched his every wicked thrust with a slide of her hips.
“I want to see you,” she panted.
In reply, he dared to nip the inside of her thigh. “Not yet.” After that, his movements became even more frenzied and torturous. Lust filled her from the inside out and she was lost, unable to deny him anything he wanted from her. She would have given him anything at that moment, as the pressure built and escalated into a passionate inferno that erupted with the force of a hundred waterfalls. Her lungs emptied of air, and she was temporarily suspended somewhere above her body, hanging in the balance between life and death as she succumbed to him.
When the shudders started to subside, she opened her eyes at the same time she saw him rise above her and give a satisfied half smile. Then he grasped each edge of her nightdress and rent it in two, exposing the rest of her body to his mesmerizing gaze. Now that she was finally allowed to look upon him, she was fascinated by what she saw. At times, she could almost believe that he truly was a witch, because his eyes would appear so otherworldly, as if he wasn’t of this earth.
As he watched her, he started to disrobe. He was attired casually in a shirt and trousers, so it didn’t take long for him to remove the item covering his magnificent chest and toss it aside. Next, he started to unbutton his trousers, but while Marlene desired to be with him above all else, she had to stop him. “I’m not sure this is a good idea—” He held up an item that looked completely foreign to her. “What is that?”
“It’s called a sheath. It is designed for the male genitals to prevent disease, but more importantly, as a preventative for begetting a child.”
Her eyes widened, intrigued. “What is it made from?”
“I’m not sure you want to know.” His mouth quirked slightly. “But they do work. Brothels have used them for centuries.”
She lifted a brow. “And how might you have come by one?”
He leaned forward on to the bed, a fist on either side of her, effectively trapping her within the border of his muscular body. “I can have as many as I need. I am wicca and find ways of procuring whatever I want.”
Blood rushed through Marlene’s body with need once again. “Including me?” she challenged breathlessly.
That half smile returned. “Only if you want to be conquered.”
She reached up and undid the ribbon holding back his hair. She tossed it aside, her body aching with the sight of those dark strands falling over his shoulders. She shoved her hand along his neck and into that luscious mane as she rose and brought his mouth down to hers. Her breasts collided with his chest as she worked on the fastenings of his trousers. When his cock was free, she slid her hand along his hot, hard length, her thumb running over the drop of moisture at the tip.
She stroked him with long, lazy strokes that had him groaning her name and shifting his hips to her movements. He finally tore his mouth from hers and slid the sheath onto his impressive length. He gave her little warning as he lifted her onto his lap and slid into her fully. She moaned at the contact, the pressure and fullness an almost forgotten sensation from that single, daring interlude that now seemed so long ago.
