The Harlot (Taskill Witches 1)

FOUR

GREGOR RAMSAY WONDERED HOW IN HELL’S name he had got himself into this ludicrous situation, because fixing his thoughts on the goal ahead—rather than the current moment—was going to test him immensely.

His vow to resist her had been challenged as soon as she’d stood with the sun behind her and he’d seen her body out lined through the thin stuff of her worn shift. She had a fine, womanly figure, and the urge to explore it made him lose all sense of purpose for several long minutes.

It was a mercy that the serving girl had arrived and Jessie left the room. At first he’d avoided following and peering in at her while she was naked, but that was short-lived. Why shouldn’t he?

Then, when she delivered her husky invitation to stand in the shadows to observe her performance, his attention was all hers. Now he was transfixed, because the sight of her abandonment was the most seductive thing he had ever seen. Several times he had to remind himself of his goal, and the effort he had put into reaching it thus far, to keep from letting his baser instincts take over.

She was carnality embodied in female form, and since she had been scrubbed and dressed in a relatively clean garment, she was even more of a temptation. Resisting her was imperative, or else he would fritter away his time bedding her. He had taken these weeks away from his ship to resolve the legacy of the past, not to satisfy his own lust.

It was, however, hard to even remember the task that lay ahead when she lifted her breasts free of her stays and began to squeeze and mold them in her hands. This was the first time he had seen them in full light. The pale skin gleamed, the nipples a dusky rose color that was darkening as they hardened and lifted. Jessie’s fingers roved over them, and then she pulled on the nipples until they lengthened and poked out rudely.

That alone would have his cock standing at attention if it was not already doing so. Then she grasped her skirts in her hand and lifted one foot, resting it on the chair she had moved closer to the window, baring her puss. He remembered then how it felt to be inside her. That made him harder still. Torn between the need to satisfy his desire to couple with her, and their more important purpose, he had to fix himself to his post in the shadows.

The sight of her juices glistening on her fingers as she plied the folds of her puss open made his hands fist. He wanted to grip her buttocks in his hands, to lift her, open her and taste her.

The flush on her cheeks indicated that her sensuality and passion brimmed to the surface. He noticed how she coated her fingers in that heavenly dew and then began to trail them back and forth in her furrow—slowly at first and then with increasing haste. Her spine was against the wall and she pivoted, moved her hips back and forth in an agitated fashion.

But then she shifted and the view was obscured.

He moved, but her legs closed, her hand buried between them. Gregor frowned. Her gaze was fastened in the distance, but if he didn’t know better, he would think she was trying to provoke him. The vixen!

As if she could read his thoughts, she lifted her head and met his gaze. A vixen she was, through and through, following her own needs and disobeying his instruction, even while he tried to prepare her for what lay ahead.

Gregor shook his head.

A startled look appeared on her face, and she crushed her hand between her thighs. “Oh, sire, forgive me for my improper behavior. I did not see you standing there.”

She began to drop her skirts, but her eyes flashed with mischief and he knew then, with the utmost certainty, that she was toying with him, which meant she was not giving this her full attention. That enabled him to concentrate on the goal that had driven him these past eleven years.

He closed the space between them in three strides. “Do not stop. Touch yourself again as you would for him, and let me see you.”

“But sire…” Her head rolled and she cast her eyelids down. “I am thoroughly ashamed.”

The smell of her arousal was intoxicating. She was close to coming off. He had been so absorbed by the way she looked that he felt sorely deprived, but he would make her earn it. “You are not ashamed. You are nowhere near ashamed enough!”

Her head jolted up, her eyes wide.

“You have forgotten your first rule, the one you so cleverly stated earlier. This man must think you innocent and untouched, and yet I see blatant lust in your eyes.”

She shook her head vehemently, color staining her cheeks. “No, I…I did not mean to.”

He placed his hand over hers, crushing it to her puss. “Do it, but do it properly this time.”

She staggered back against the wall and looked up at him with round eyes, her cheeks flushed. Her hand began to work again and she bunched her skirts higher, tucking them under her elbow. “I am so ashamed, sire,” she whispered. “I cannot help myself. It is you that makes these fevers of longing come upon me.”

His cock was so hard it was painful, the need to plow her rising all the while. Through gritted teeth, he issued another instruction. “Try harder!”

She gasped, and when she moved her hands inside the cup of his, she swayed, her eyelids lowering. “Oh, sire, you are able to feel how dreadfully wet and wanting I am. I cannot bear the shame.”

Gregor inserted one of his fingers between hers and nodded at her, encouraging her. She moved her hips back and forth again until his finger slipped easily into her hole.

He inhaled a ragged breath.

She was so deliciously slippery that his cock pressed insistently at his breeches. Then her flesh tightened around his finger and her mouth opened. He thrust his digit deeper and moved it around, learning her—learning the shape and texture of her, the intense heat, and how sensitive and responsive she was.

Her body welcomed his hardness, and their hands began to move as one, until she rocked her hips, and the embrace of her flesh on his finger became crushing, and she grew wetter still as she neared her peak. She panted aloud and moved to steady herself by resting against his chest, her forehead against his shoulder. Her body trembled. “Oh, oh…”