The Harlot (Taskill Witches 1)

Gregor had to close his eyes and gather himself a moment. His ballocks ached, the need to find release becoming all-consuming. The rocking of her lower body and the suck and pull of her damp flesh on his shaft soon urged him on. “I would not allow you to rush me so, if we were under different circumstances.”

Her eyebrows lifted. “A man who knows his own prowess… I am most impressed.”

That comment led him to shove her more firmly against the wall. He was so bound up in the need to thrust and drive that he was in danger of forgetting the perilous nature of their situation. Then he fixed her and ground deep, and she gave a barely stifled moan. As swiftly as he could, he covered her mouth with his, again muffling her.

“Are you always this noisy,” he asked when he pulled back for breath, “or are you trying to lure the guard back here?”

She bit her lip and looked at him from under her lashes. “Forgive me, sire, I am finding your assault most pleasurable.”

With that she shoved one hand between them, to the place where he was buried to the hilt in the tight fist of her puss. She enclosed the base of his cock with her fingers, squeezing him hard there while she paddled her folds with the flat of her hand.

Thrusting vigorously inside the moist fist of her cunt, he cursed under his breath. Her hand there was most advantageous, and his ballocks were high and primed to off-load their burden. Vaguely, it occurred to him that he would be unable to stop now. Even the threat of the guard’s appearance was nothing compared to the desperate need for the pair of them to come off.

Meanwhile, her mouth opened and her eyes closed. Never before had he seen a woman so eager and ready for pleasure. However, she was about to cry out again—he knew it. Gregor closed his mouth over hers yet again, silencing her. Her puss quivered around his length, and he barely pulled free in time to spill his load elsewhere. How he wished he had been inside her for her completion. As his cock jerked and spent itself, her hands closed tighter around its head and her lips moved under his, parting. When her tongue stroked his, he felt as if he had captured her cry in his own mouth, the sensuous kiss an indication of her pleasure. Unexpectedly, the kiss arrested him, and he lingered a moment, enjoying the soft pull of her lips and the inquisitive stroke of her tongue for as long as he dared risk it, before pulling back.

Sated, she looked as supine and regal as a contented cat. She arched her neck in the wake of her release, as if savoring every morsel of pleasure. Fascinated, he observed her as her breasts rose and fell with her labored breathing. A most sensuous woman indeed, he decided.

When she opened her eyes she gave a soft growl and looked at him from under her lashes, as if her eyelids were heavy with pleasure. “You are a fine lover, sire. I trust you found I warrant the risk of breaking me out of here?”

Her voice was softened by what had passed between them, and he knew that if they were elsewhere he would soon be hard again and ready for another tryst.

Setting her on her feet, he stepped back and secured his breeches, while taking a quick look down the corridor to assure himself that the jailor had not been roused from his supper. Luck was on their side, for he was still occupied with picking bones.

Once Gregor had buttoned up the cassock, he responded, “Well worth the risk. Now step behind me and be ready to run when the moment comes.”

He watched as she pulled her clothing into place, arranging her torn bodice. She folded her hands piously across the front of her skirts and adopted a chaste look, as if he truly had influenced her in a much more holy manner.

For a brief moment, he shook his head and wondered what madness had led him to this. Then he reminded himself of his purpose. She had proved her worth and would be good bait for his enemy’s downfall. Gregor cleared his throat and nodded at her, snatching up his hat from where it had fallen to the floor. With another quick glance through the bars at the guard, he called out and then gestured to indicate he was done. “Guard, I am ready to leave.”

The jailor approached, glanced in at Jessie and, seeing her quiet and apparently contrite, lifted the key at his belt and opened the cell door.

Gregor stepped out, gripped the door in one hand and gave the guard a swift thump in the stomach with the other. When the man bent forward to clutch at his belly, Gregor knocked him backward, until he teetered and collapsed in a heap in the corridor. Gregor stooped to check that he would stay down for at least a few moments. The fellow was stunned, but would come to quickly enough.

“Apologies in advance for the ache in the head,” Gregor murmured, then waved at the woman to follow him.

They weaved their way down the corridors and out into the night at the back of the tollbooth. The moon was high in the sky, a blessing. At the end of the alley, where it opened out into the cobbled lane, he heard voices and paused, his arm out to stop the woman. Easing them both back into the shadows, he put his finger to her lips.

Two figures walked past, holding one another up as they went. Once they had passed and the lane was quiet, he removed his finger from her mouth and nodded.

She dusted down her clothing. “Thank you for your help, sire. I’ll be on my way now.”

Gregor frowned and grasped her firmly by the jaw. “You will not. You agreed to undertake a task in return for your freedom.”

“And I fulfilled the task.” She jerked her head free.

She seemed to be under the impression that he had put his life at risk for one of her carnal favors. Gregor gave a wry laugh and shook his head in disbelief. “That was not the task I had in mind, my dear. That was something you brought about.”

She put her hands on her hips and glared at him. “Whatever do you mean, that was not the task you had in mind?”

Gregor felt the urge to shake her, but quelled it when he saw another figure moving down the street beyond. Hauling her into the shadows once more, he held her upper arms. “Be silent now, or someone will hear and you will find yourself back in that cell quicker than you can flash your eyes at the next passerby. The guard will awaken and raise the alarm soon enough. We must be on our way, and quick about it.”

She wriggled like an eel, growled at him and gave him a nasty jab in the shins with her foot. He pressed his lips together and tightened his grasp, drawing her to him so that her feet all but left the ground.

Alarm flitted through her eyes, and then they narrowed while she lashed out at him, her fists pummeling his sides. “You cannot keep me.”

The woman could fight, and her punches made Gregor’s blood pump. Even though she was pitted against him, she seemed wanton in her every act, moving in his grasp like a lush, unruly siren.

“Think on it,” he growled. “Do you want to hang?”