The Libertine (Taskill Witches 2)

Chloris whimpered and shuddered. She knew of the witch trials, of the gruesome manner in which they put to death those who were convicted, but she could not bear to hear it on his lips, not about him and his people.

“Hush. What happened between us is not to blame. This was always our destiny. It was only my stubbornness and the need to find my sisters that kept me there. I thought I could change people’s opinions of the old ways, but there are long held grievances and suspicions, and human nature does so like to have someone to persecute.”

Everything he said made her fret all the more. He was trying to comfort her, to reassure her, but guilt weighed heavily. She wrung her hands together, remembering those final words she had exchanged with Tamhas, how angered he had been when she tried to bargain with him. Lennox was too precious to her. She could not put him at risk any more than she already had. “Tamhas might have left you alone, though, if it were not for me.”

“That is not the case.” He cupped her face in his hand. “Chloris, until you came into my life it was as if I were trapped, unable to find anything I needed to find, unable to make a true sanctuary for the people I care about. But you have been a lucky charm, for you unleashed a level of madness in my life that has resulted in good things.” There was affection and humor in his eyes and although she could not fully believe in his convictions, she felt compelled to listen to him.

“We needed to leave Lowlands, that has been the truth of it for a long while. The persecution of witchcraft is embedded in the people’s minds here, as it has been for over a hundred years. I had tried to bring about change, but with enemies such as Keavey, I cannot take any more risks. You have given me the strength and purpose I needed to move on. There is also the matter of Jessie.” He smiled. “If it had not been for the fact that I was coming to Edinburgh to find you I would not have found my sister, who I have hunted for all these years.”

There was luck in that, Chloris reflected. Could she truly believe this was meant to be?

“Most of all, you have given me what I needed, a woman to love, a woman to cherish. Every man needs those things, but I did not know how much loving you would alter the way I live, the way I see and feel. I am stronger, I am a better man.”

She saw what he was trying to say, not only as a man, but in his magic.

Nevertheless, she still wondered if they were too different. She shook her head and turned her face away, breaking contact. “I fear it cannot be, or will not last.”

“It can and it will.”

She met his gaze. It was there in his eyes and she all but melted.

“I know that you could not wait for me,” he said, “but this is our true beginning. I love you and I know that you love me.”

“When we were together...when we were there that last day in the forest and you painted a picture for me of how it could be, it was too much like a dream, Lennox. I am older than you, a married woman, and a burden because I am so different to you. I do not share your nature.” The shortcoming she felt on that score grew deeper still. She lowered her eyelids, afraid that he would see the grief and pain she carried.

Lennox shook his head. “All of that means nothing. You cannot turn away from a life with me. You were not happy when you came to me, you as much as admitted it, and I have seen you blossom while we’ve been together. You cannot deny that.”

“No, I cannot deny that.”

He drew her to him and looked into her eyes beseechingly. “I will not let you say no to what we could have together.”

“You told me it would be hard, but that is the truth for you, too.”

“Do I need to remind you how we are when we are as one?” He closed in on her, his mouth covering hers.

Chloris whimpered, then melted and relinquished herself to him.

His kiss was soft and persuasive at first, reminiscent of those first few kisses he’d given her, and then it came as she knew it would—the full-blown passion that flared between them. How she adored it, the sheer and absolute immensity of the reciprocated desire they shared.

Cradling the back of her head with one hand, he moved the other around the outline of her breasts and waist, where he gripped her tightly and drew her closer against him. The firm, hard line of his body against hers—together with the feeling of being held in his arms while he plundered her mouth—shooed everything else in the world away. She let it, savoring him.

He eased her down onto her back. Chloris sank gratefully onto the couch, not breaking from the embrace. To feel the closeness, the presence of his body over hers, made her heart soar. “Lennox, you make me...you make me feel, everything.”

“It is the same for me, and you and only you make me feel this.”

He meshed his fingers with hers, and she stared at their joined hands. She wanted this, wanted him—for always, just as he suggested.

He looked down at her with passion in his eyes. “Let me love you.”

Chloris groaned. When he said that, she could not resist. Turning her face to one side, she was ashamed of her blatant reaction, here in this borrowed parlor where everything should be proper and moral.

Lennox swooped down upon her, kissing the soft, sensitive skin that she had exposed in turning her face, raining kisses down her throat and into her cleavage, his hands around her waist.

Desire sprang at her center, heating her groin, making her entire body throb with need. Between her thighs her core clenched, reaching for him, reaching for the certain pleasure of his hardness inside her.

With one hand on the couch above her head, he rested his knee by the side of her hip and caressed the curved underside of her bosom through her bodice and corset. It made her breath come ever quicker, the damp heat between her thighs growing. Moaning softly, she shook her head, but her hands moved and she ran her fingers into his hair, craving every part of him.

Sensation overwhelmed her, her need for him blinding her to their surroundings, to the danger inherent in their situation. She looked at him, her lips parting, and put her hands against his chest, her head pressing back as her body arched to his.