my secret was that which was feared and condemned by so many—a witch.
He had me locked against him in the narrow, cluttered space of the scullery, where the kettle of stew I had prepared earlier that day simmered over the fire. While my urge was to flee this place and his accusations, the feeling of his powerful arms around me began to strip me of my resolve, my intimate places growing hot and needy while I was locked in his embrace.
"Turn your back on the temptation," he whispered.
His voice was soothing, but I feared he might try to make me forsake my craft for the sake of my soul. Whatever his motive for dissuading me, he was right about the consequences. If I were to cast a spell now, with so many witnesses close by, I would be strung up before the day was out.
Desire and mistrust battled within me. I whimpered, my body snaking in his grip. Then he stroked one finger up and down my neck. The fleeting touch made me tingle everywhere. My breasts tightened, my toes curling inside my shoes. He tipped my chin back, forcing my head to rest against his shoulder. Then he stroked his hand the length of my hair. I felt his breath warm against my face. My eyelids lowered.
"Do not let them know what you are, Annabel." His mouth pressed against my cheek in a brazen kiss, sending a dangerous flare of longing inside me.
I wanted his touches so badly, but this was a mistake—of that I was sure. I had lusted after an inquisitor, and now I was at his mercy. I could not trust him. Turning in his arms I broke free, blurting a warning as I did so. "Perhaps you should fear me, as they do."
He snatched my wrist, capturing me easily. "Perhaps I should." His gaze devoured me. "And, perhaps, it is because the sight of you makes me harden that I am willing to risk this?"
My urge to struggle diminished and my heart beat wildly. The gleam in his eyes assured me that I'd heard him correctly. Those times when we had looked upon one another with hunger and need were not imagined. Master Findlay desired me as I did him.
I flashed my eyes at him. "Is that so?"
His hand on my wrist still tethered me. I tugged against the confinement, but his words had made the nature of this struggle so much more pleasurable and arousing.
"Aye, Annabel. Perhaps it is desire that made me take this task…instead of letting the minister do so." He paused, allowing me to absorb the import of his words.
The acknowledgement of our shared hunger raced between us. Then he smiled, devastating me with that one simple gesture, his handsome mouth so desirable. Behind me, the kettle of stew over the fire simmered and hissed. From the room beyond I heard voices and laughter.
When I glanced at the door, he nodded his head back at the outer room. "They will not share your secret, but there will be a price."
My interest stirred at the offer. "Name it."
His lips parted and his gaze raked over me. "Since you came here, you have filled my head. You are a fine looking woman, and when you want a man you have a canny way of showing it."
Triumph plumed inside me. I would enjoy him before I went on my way. "Your price," I urged, willing him to ask for that which I was all too willing to give.
"A taste of you, to slake my thirst." His eyes turned stormy as he spoke. "You have haunted my thoughts. I cannot rest until I have known you more intimately."
My body hummed with expectancy—we would have each other, and soon.
"If you are willing?" he added, and then he reeled me in against him. His hand went to the small of my back, where he pressed me firmly to him.
Hip to hip, I could feel the hard lines of his body through our clothing, as well as the growing bulge in his breeches. I ached for it. Looking into his eyes, I assessed the danger. The truth was he could have me and then spit on me for my beliefs, casting me out where I would be at the mercy of the villagers. I should run now, before he changed his mind and had the commissioner condemn me, as witches had been condemned here before. But I could not, because I wanted him. And at that moment my need for him was greater than the fear of what lay ahead. Despite the danger, I nodded. "Aye, if I have your word, I will pay your price willingly…and on my back."
He cupped my head where he tangled his fingers in my loose hair. His other hand stroked over the outline of my breast while he lowered his head to kiss me. Pivoting within his embrace, I pushed my hands inside his frock coat to gain the measure of his chest through his shirt. His body was hard and warm…so enticing. I wanted to be naked against him.
His mouth was firm and persuasive, and I melted under him, my lips parting. I was so eager for the feeling of his weight over me—eager for the thrust of him between my thighs the way his tongue thrust so surely between my lips. My body rocked against his while he cupped my breast in his hand, squeezing it roughly through the fabric of my bodice, setting loose a crazed need for more contact—skin against skin, inside and out.
He reached down and grappled for a handful of my skirts, hauling them up the length of my legs to gain better access. With the back of his knuckles he stroked the front of my thigh, making me tremble with need. My cunny yearned for that firm touch. I was already slick and hot, so ready to be taken. If he touched me there I would not be able to stop myself from having him, and there was something I had to know first.
I broke with his kiss. "Tell me this. How is it that you knew that I practice the craft?"
A soft laugh escaped him. "Because I recognized you as brethren, she–witch."
My heart leapt. Ewan knew what I was, because he practiced the craft.
Humor filled his expression. He had no intention of ousting me, because this trade was driven by desire.
eyebrows lifted as he watched my reaction to his comment, and his vibrant blue eyes shone with latent power, reinforcing the import of his words.
I could not withhold my pleasure. I whispered his name aloud, calling to him with all my being.
He moved his hand under my bunched skirts, directly between my thighs, where he stroked one finger along my sticky folds. I thrilled to his bold touch, moving my hips to aid him. His fingers roved the territory of my intimate parts—an inquisition so much more pleasant than the one I had endured moments before.
I lifted one knee alongside his flank, urging him closer. "Do you truly mean to explore me here and now, while they stand outside the door and speculate on whether you have decided to cast me out of Carbrey?"
I gazed up at him and rocked my hips, so that my mound filled his palm.
He gave a hoarse laugh and nodded, his hand closing over the plump cushion I offered. "Aye, and I will tell them you showed a most charitable nature when I questioned you further."
Suffused with pleasure, the forbidden nature of our encounter thrilled me. He urged me back. I took a tentative step, and again, until I hit against the wooden table. It rattled behind me. I set my hands on it and pushed the pots aside, filling with delight when I realized he meant to have me right there in the scullery, while the villagers were but a few strides away, awaiting the result of his inquisition.
When I was perched on the table with my skirts gathered around my waist, he glanced down between my legs and shook his head. "I do not think either of us can wait a moment longer for this."
One look at his breeches assured me of his honesty on that point. The bulge there was large, his erect rod pressing against the fabric most insistently.
He nodded at my chest. "Bare your breasts for me."
Delighted, I grappled with the laces on my bodice, half undoing them before I hurriedly pushed the fabric down, loosening my thick linen stays so that my breasts spilled free. While I did so, he stroked my thighs with possessive hands, fondling me through my woolen stockings before he rolled them down to my knees.
Squeezing my breasts in my hands, I offered them to him. He ducked down and suckled one and then the other, grazing the nipples with his teeth. Taking advantage of his position, I pushed my fingers through his thick, dark hair, reveling in the texture of it. The sting of his brusque kisses on my peaked nipples surged through me, making my hips lift against the hard surface of the table.
"Yield to me, Annabel McGraw," he demanded, his eyes stormy, as he lifted his head.
Oh, how those words lit my blood!
My cunny grew damper by the moment, my spirit delighted by his blatant, lusty demands. I parted my legs, and gasped in delight when he stroked his hand down my furrow. Exposed, mightily aroused, and thrilled by his exploration, I groaned aloud when he ducked down to take taste of me.
His tongue danced over my sensitive places, making my hands fist in his hair. When he plunged his fingers inside me to test me, I moaned low in my throat, letting him know in no uncertain terms that I was ready to be mounted.
As he straightened, he licked his glistening lips, grinned and nodded at me. "You taste every bit as good as I thought you might. Is it any wonder I could not resist this?"
With a decadent laugh, I gripped the collar of his woolen frock coat in both hands and drew him down for another kiss. And it was fierce, hungry and lust–fuelled, our hands roving one another eagerly as we shared the taste of my desire in our kiss. When he grasped again for the heat between my thighs, I knew I could wait no longer. I pulled free and rested on my elbows, positioning myself to take him.
"I knew you would be like this—" he said "—brazen and wild." His hands went to his breeches, and he undid them as he spoke. His cock bounced free, long and hard and ready. "One look at you assured me of that."
"And I knew you would be like this," I responded, devouring the sight. I stroked my hand up and down the length of his shaft, my core clenching in expectation of it filling me. When he groaned at my touch, I pulled my hand free. Licking my palm, I stroked the underside of his cock, anointing it.
He shot me a warning glance. "You surely know some canny tricks, Annabel."
I nodded. "It is my way to be bold about such things. We who are closer to nature revel in the pleasures of the flesh, is that not so?"
He cupped my jaw in one hand, locking eyes with me. Tension flitted through his expression. "It is true, but it is rare to find a she–witch quite so instinctive and bold as you."
He seemed to stare into my very soul, and poised as we were and about to mate, some strange emotion coiled inside me. I knew then that this would not be enough. I would want more of him. Mercifully, he reached down and stroked my damp cunny. My body arched, my breath coming ever faster as he touched my most sensitive parts. When he eased one finger inside me, I was gone, adrift on a tide of bliss.
Then he stroked his thumb back and forth over my swollen bud, and I had to bite the back of my wrist to stop myself crying out loud as my cunny pulsed and throbbed in release. "I need you," I blurted.
He took his shaft in his hand, shaking his head at me. "Aye, this must be done, or I fear we shall both be driven mad by it."
Easing inside me, he stretched me open. Gratefully, I savored his girth and clung to him, my hands wrapped around his upper arms through the stuff of his coat. He thrust deeper, giving me his full length, and the table rocked.
Bliss, sheer bliss, rolled through my entire nether regions. He began to ride me, stroking me deep inside, where I had ached for him. Each time he drove his length into me, the table rocked and the pots and dishes clattered loudly, and still I could not get enough. I locked my legs around his hips, moving in time with his thrusts, desperate to rise with him and slake our lust together.
Our movements became frantic, and a wooden spoon fell from the table to the floor. "They will hear," I said, rounding my eyes at him as unbidden laughter escaped me.
Ewan only seemed to find my comment a challenge. Thrusting harder, he wrapped his hands around my bare buttocks, lifting me from the surface of the table as he pulled me closer. "I will tell them you knocked something over, while you cried for mercy and assured me you are a good woman."
"You are a clever man," I said breathlessly. His crown was so deep I had to pant for breath. My cunny tightened, release imminent. "Know this, Master Findlay, if I weep today, it is because I've been so well seen to!"
He groaned and drove in and out, owning my furrow. I welcomed each thrust, each bountiful stroke of my sensitive places.
We were both about to spill.
Then a cautious knock sounded at the door, intruding on us.
My heart leapt.
Tossing back his head, Ewan's eyes turned wild.
It was then I saw the immense power of his magic. The swirling light reflected in his eyes mesmerized me, holding me in the moment, refusing to let me break with him.
A louder knock sounded at the door.