The Libertine (Taskill Witches 2)

“Please do not say that.” Because it’s true.

“I want you, Chloris,” he coaxed. “You’re so hot, damp.” His hand was between her thighs. “I feel your need in the palm of my hand.”

With his fingers stroking over her folds she was as weak as a rag doll in his hands. Her heart raced, her body clamoring for him.

“Tell me you don’t want this, and I will desist.”

She wanted him, wanted him badly. “Lennox, please...”

“This?” He shifted at her back and she felt the hard rod of his erection pressing against her bare thigh.

How good it would feel to writhe on it, to work off her frustration on such a fine weapon. Tipping her head back she invited him closer, relinquishing herself to him, offering no resistance.

Holding her, he reached over to kiss her mouth. But he kept her in that position, on her side. A moment later, his hand returned to the underside of her thigh and he lifted it, parting her legs. The blunt head of his erection pressed into her from behind. It was lewd and shocking, and when he pushed into her, stretching her open, it drew a harsh gasp from her open mouth.

“This is what you needed?” He paused.

“Yes,” she cried out. “Yes, yes, yes!”

“Then you shall have it.” Thrusting deep and hard, he claimed her.

Chloris panted, her breath caught on the extreme rush of pleasure being filled by him brought about. Then he lifted her upper thigh, drawing it up and toward her chest, grinding deeper still. Her body flamed.

He rode her hard, and her body welcomed it. Dizzy with sensation her emotions soared, her entire body carried on it.

“Oh, yes,” he breathed, “your body clutches me in welcome. You could not deny this and I did not want you to.”

She pressed her lips together.

He thrust harder and faster, working his way in and out. Her hips moved of their own accord, taking every thrust, meeting him.

Then she felt the head of his cock brushing her center, loosing hot tides of pleasure that reached her womb and beyond. Cries of ecstasy escaped her, and she gulped them back. Her core rippled around his length. It was as if she lifted from the ground, so intense was her pleasure. Hot fluid sluiced the tops of her thighs.

His rod grew harder still and she squirmed, for she was so sensitive it was almost too much. He whispered her name in a tormented tone, pulling free as he spilled his seed.

The power of the shared moment stunned her and Chloris trembled, inside and out. What have I done? Once again, she asked herself that question. It was as if she was spinning out of control, as if his spell had led her to the brink of madness and beyond.

But even though she knew the consequences were many, Chloris could not bring herself to regret it—not then, not when his arm stole around her and he held her close, whispering words of affection and praise to her as he caressed her—for it was the closest thing to love that she had ever known.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Chloris had never known such intense pleasure.

Or such overwhelming guilt.

She sat at breakfast the following day, barely aware of the voices around her until the children came in. Tam and Rab scuffled amongst themselves, until their father lifted his head and peered at them. Chloris watched the two young lads, and their innocent young faces con

fused her all the more. Remorse filled her. She’d been weak. She had succumbed, even though she had promised herself she wouldn’t.

Not only that, but she had agreed to meet Lennox again that very morning. Torn between desire and remorse, she could not go to him. Why not? Wasn’t it what her closest friends had suggested she do, take a lover? She had nothing to lose. Chloris Keavey was nothing but a burden to all around her, and that had been the situation since her family was taken by the cough. It weighed heavily upon her, and providing her husband with an heir was the only thing that would make any difference to her life.

Worthless and wretched, she had gone to Lennox in a desperate effort to find her meaning in life. The truth of it was that she was only in Gavin’s way, she was stopping him getting what he wanted—someone else. If this magic of Lennox’s didn’t work she might as well be dead. However, if it did work and she bore Gavin’s child, her life would be little better than death. Now she saw that—now she admitted it to herself. Only because she’d been offered a taste of something illicit—passion, unbridled passion, a few precious moments of pleasure—something that she could savor forever to carry her through the bad times.

Perhaps enough ritual had been undertaken, and she would be fertile for Gavin.

Meanwhile, she could not risk succumbing to Master Lennox’s charms again.

Resolving to put an end to it and never see him again, she felt more clearheaded. Until a sense of loss quickly assaulted her. Steeling herself, she made plans to send a message with Maura Dunbar, informing Master Lennox that she would no longer be pursuing the matter they had discussed.