The Libertine (Taskill Witches 2)

“That does not matter.”

She strode alongside him, smiling. “I will humor you because you are so charming.”

Her resistance to flattery only made him want to flatter her more. She was not used to it, he assumed. That was a crime.

When they reached the bluebell glen she paused and sighed. “I will dream of this place, forever.” She met his gaze. “Of being here with you.”

That tugged at something deep inside him.

He did not want her dreaming of him. He wanted her by his side. The notion surprised him, and he pushed away the urge to state it aloud. Instead he drew her down onto the forest floor. Tugging at her gown, he edged it down at her bosom. Her creamy flesh swelled from the lace edge of her shift. Ducking his head, he kissed her, sighing against the soft, responsive flesh as he moved to crouch over her. With quick, nimble fingers, he prized the edge of her gown back, and one nipple rose up, stiff and eager for his tongue as he closed his lips over it.

“Oh, Lennox.” Her hands closed about his head.

Kissing her heavily he worked his tongue over the stiff peak, his free hand worked her other breast free, until she was gloriously exposed, both breasts on display for him. Drawing back to observe, his cock grew rigid, for she looked so gloriously undone, so ready to be plundered. When he leaned closer to kiss her in the shadowy dip between her breasts, his rod pressed against her hip, and she cried out.

“Lennox.”

“Something you need, my sweet?”

“You are outrageous, you know what it is.” Her head rolled against the mossy ground, and several strands of her tresses came free to curl against the side of her neck.

“You want me to give you more air?” He backed away.

She grabbed his shirt, holding him to her. “No, I...I want you.”

Lennox laughed softly. How adorable she looked with her cheeks flushed. “And you shall have me.”

She viewed him with suspicion. “You tease me so. You make me say it aloud and make a show of myself for your fun.”

“Of course, but I cannot help myself because you are so desirable when you are this way. There is no malice intended, only joy in hearing you whisper your need. A man cannot hel

p enjoying that when it is so genuinely meant.”

She stared up at him as if thinking on what he said, and her candid innocence was so beguiling that he vowed he would not take his eyes off her face, he would watch while he pleasured them both, eager to see every moment reflected in her eyes.

He shifted, placing one knee between her legs. With haste, he pulled her skirts higher. When she wriggled to assist, as eager as a wanton, her knees parting and rising up, Lennox once again had the overwhelming urge to see her naked, to adore every measure of her, to know it intimately.

She moaned with pleasure, and it drove him on. He closed his mouth over her shoulder. She rose up into his embrace. As he glanced down, the sight of her loosed hair tangling over the top of her pale shoulder blades made him reach for her laces, to see more of her. Chloris rippled in his arms and pressed her face into his neck. Speedily he pulled the laces free, then eased the flaps of her dress open.

A gasp escaped her. Her fingers tightened on him.

He took it as encouragement. Pushing her gown down from her shoulders, he unraveled the ribbons on the back of her gown, eager to have her completely naked. He’d only been able to imagine it, due to the hurried nature of their encounters, and it was not enough. He pushed his hand beneath her loosened gown. “Yes, I shall have you naked today.”

“Lennox, no!” Her body stiffened. “Please don’t.”

Too late were her pleas. In that moment he felt the very thing she was attempting to hide.

“No!” She pulled away from him, turning her face away from his as she twisted her arms behind her back and attempted to pull her gown into place, her fingers trembling as she struggled to find the laces.

Alas, her desperate actions only exposed what she attempted to hide.

Lennox stared in disbelief, then drew back, horrified by what he saw. Beneath her gown her beautiful skin was marred by deep scars, scars that spoke of a harsh beating, so harsh that her skin had been torn and healed poorly, leaving welts that would remain with her for life.

Grabbing her by the shoulders he halted her attempts to cover herself.

She shook her head and there was a crazed look in her eyes, the nature of which he had not seen there before. “Let me go, I beg you.”

“No.” Possessively, he held her.