Season of the Witch

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Season of the Witch Page 9

by Jaid Black


  He frowned. “I dinna have a care if ye go outside.”

  She blinked several times in rapid succession. “I’m lost. You said you didn’t want me to leave and now you don’t care if I do.” Her frown rivaled his own. “Which is it?” she bit out quietly so none could overhear.

  His face colored with frustration. “I dinna want ye tae leave…” He half-growled his next word. “Me.”

  Silence.

  Lucia’s expression gentled. “I’m not leaving you, you great big idiot.”

  He grunted. “Then why do ye wish tae go outside when ’tis cold?”

  Her eyes lit up. “I saw sugar maple trees from our room and am hoping to get syrup from them!” She looked so joyous he couldn’t help but to feel lighthearted. “It’s unusually warm today—you know, for the Highlands—so who knows? I might be able to get syrup!”

  Cainnech loved it when she was happy, though he had no notion as to what she was talking so excitedly about. “Syrup?”

  “You’ve never heard of syrup either?”

  “Nay.”

  “Only certain trees make it and sugar maples are the best. They have natural sweet liquid inside them for baking treats.”

  He was impressed. “Aye?”

  “Yes. If we can tap enough we’ll have tons of sweets for Christmas!”

  God, but he already loved this woman fiercely. He could but hope she came to love him as much. “How will we tap this syrup ye speak of?”

  “You’re holding it in your hand.” Her light green eyes nigh unto sparkled. “We’ll drive this into a sugar maple and see if we get anything!”

  In less than thirty minutes’ time, his brilliant, beautiful wife was grinning as liquid poured from a sugar maple and into the barrel Gabhran held. Iona held a second barrel, giggling with excitement.

  “Now that we ken it works, mayhap Smithy should forge more,” Iona enthused.

  “Let me taste it before deciding,” Lucia said. She dipped her finger into the barrel and swirled it around before bringing her finger to her lips. A look of pure satisfaction engulfed her features. “Oh my God,” she moaned, her eyes rolling back into her head much as they had last eve. “Oh yum.”

  She dipped her finger back into the barrel, but this time raised her hand to Cainnech’s lips. Busy holding the tap in place, he opened his mouth and accepted her finger inside. The sweetness immediately hit his tongue. “Mmmm.” He released her finger with the same popping sound he’d released her nipples with last eve—a fact her blush told him dinna go unnoticed. “’Tis bliss, that.”

  Lucia cleared her throat. “Yes, well,” she said breathlessly, “I think we should have Smithy forge some more taps then.”

  It took six trees to fill both barrels, but Lucia was pleased with the results. Her smile was catching.

  “We’ve enough tae bake everything yer wantin’, milady?” Iona asked.

  “More than enough. This is going to be a very merry Christmas!”

  Two hours later, the great hall looked even Christmasier than Lucia could have hoped for. Cadha and Brae had fashioned a magnificent strand of cranberry garland, which Cainnech’s men Barclay and Cawley wrapped around the tree. Kinnon had spent most of the day whittling wood into tiny candleholders then waxing them down using a method Lucia’d never seen to make sure they wouldn’t set fire. Loops of cloth were wound through the small holes Kinnon had left on each side and tied to heavy branches. The clanswomen Cadha and Brae had brought with them early this morning had been dipping wax and making the candles, which were currently being set in Kinnon’s holders.

  The tree would be lit up on Christmas Eve and then again on Christmas Day. Lucia couldn’t help but to tear up at the festive scene she was an integral part of. Everyone was so excited, so happy to belong to this extended family, and she realized with all certainty that she was too. Her mom and dad—she’d never stop missing them. And yet for the first holiday season in years, Lucia was able to reminisce on Christmases past with a nostalgic smile rather than with body-racking sobs. It took traveling through time and marriage to a fierce medieval warlord for Lucia to let go, but perhaps now, finally, she could let her beloved parents and grandparents rest in peace.

  When she’d first arrived in the year 1265 she had prayed this experience was a nightmare from which she’d soon awaken. Now she was afraid to go to sleep for fear she’d be roused from a wonderful dream. Such a huge change…and only a single day had passed by.

  Chapter Ten

  It had been a long but good day. By the time the evening meal was over and done, Lucia had been too exhausted to think of anything besides a hot bath and her warm bed. Cainnech had stayed below in the great hall with his closest soldiers while Lucia retired to their room.

  The laird had knighted four of his men at dinner—Niall, Cawley, Barclay and Kinnon—so the great hall was overflowing with mead and celebration. She realized Cainnech would be downstairs awhile, which suited her just fine, because it gave her time to linger in the steamy bath and relax her overworked muscles.

  The first time Lucia’d had to bathe in the oversized barrel she’d felt downtrodden at being “reduced” to this. How ironic, she mused, that she now looked forward to this barrel with the giddiness of a preacher’s wife at a parish potluck.

  She held a chalice to her lips and sipped from its contents. Her thoughts turned to tiny Leith as she mentally sifted through what little she knew about epilepsy. When last she’d been in California, hemp oil had been mentioned as a promising remedy. The only reason she recalled that so vividly was because she’d watched a touching news story about a family who’d had to relocate to California where medicinal marijuana was legal in order to give their severely epileptic toddler the hemp oil treatments that worked so well and showed no side effects. It was only that one case she knew of; she hadn’t read up on the subject afterward so wasn’t aware if there were others.

  Her engineer’s mind couldn’t help but concede to the logic behind the possibility. Seizures were largely triggered by stress, and minute doses of hemp oil had a calming effect.

  Lucia sighed. Even if true, it’s not as if she had access to the plant in question! Neither could she give Leith what Gabhran referred to as her potion because in reality it was a mix of cold and flu medicine packets she’d had in her desk. She’d chosen the ones with calming side effects to allow Gabhran to control his stuttering. It was one thing to try a synthetic mix on a nineteen-year-old, it was another thing to attempt it on a child.

  What did that leave? She frowned. Beyond teaching Leith meditation and yoga, not much.

  Lucia stilled. After her parents died and she started having panic attacks she’d been taught Progressive Muscle Relaxation by her therapist. She hadn’t availed herself of the practice in a while, but conceded that it had worked when done daily. There was something about tensing each muscle group for ten seconds at a time and then releasing them on an exhale that left the human body completely relaxed afterward. She had no idea if it worked on epileptics, but anything natural was worth a shot.

  The thought cheered her considerably. With Iona’s consent, she’d start teaching Leith tomorrow.

  “What are ye smilin’ aboot, wife?”

  Lucia yelped, startled by Cainnech’s sudden appearance. He was wearing a new, clean plaid, though still in black. “I didn’t hear you come in,” she breathed out. She shakily raised the chalice to her lips and sipped before continuing. “You scared me.”

  His frown was severe, confusing her. Her forehead wrinkled as she stared back at him. “What’s wrong?”

  “I made my excuses tae leave the great hall so I could come up tae our bedchamber and fuck my wife afore she took tae the cups.” His expression was equal parts accusation and disappointment as his steely gaze flicked from the chalice to her face. “I ken I am tae late for that.” His eyebrows drew together as he removed his clothes. “Dinna worry, wife. I’ve no’ the desire tae fuck ye when yer needin’ mead tae want it.”

  Luci
a’s nostrils flared. “And how much mead have you drunk tonight?” she snapped. “It’s okay for you, but not for me?”

  “I dinna drink enough tae no’ have my wits aboot me. Ye take tae the hiccups after naught but a chalice.”

  She surged to her feet. Lucia was too enraged to care that she was naked and thereby unable to walk out of the room and slam the doors behind her as she wanted to. Nor did she care that he was much bigger and stronger than her. “How. Dare. You.” Her eyes narrowed at him, fury evident in her crimson face. “Get out. Put your fucking clothes back on and get out!”

  His jaw dropped open. Apparently he wasn’t used to anyone, much less a woman, telling him what to do.

  “’Tis my bedchamber tae. I willna be leaving it.”

  “Fine.” She plastered a fake smile on her face as she climbed out of the barrel. “Then I’ll leave it and go sleep with Iona and Leith.”

  Cainnech’s jaw tightened. “Ye will sleep aside me.”

  Lucia’s smile didn’t falter as she took the chalice and threw its remaining contents right in his face. “You’ll have to beat me to keep me in here. I’m getting dressed and leaving.”

  Cainnech dinna ken what surprised him more—the fact that his wife was defying him and walking toward her gowns or the fact that her chalice had been filled with naught but water. Either way, he felt like the monster she now thought him to be. Monster or no’, he could not stomach the idea of her leaving their bedchamber.

  “Lucia!” he barked. When she ignored him the laird took three long strides to catch up to her. “Ye are no’ takin’ yer leave from this bedchamber!” He tore the gown she thought to don from her grasp and threw it on the stone floor. “And ye will stay naked in the eves tae please me.”

  “I am not,” she seethed, “a doll.” At his confused expression she clarified, “I will not be told how to dress, when to dress, and treated like a thing instead of a person!”

  Cainnech wasn’t certain how to respond. He glared at her. “’Tis sorry I am aboot accusing ye of takin’ tae the cups,” he said gruffly.

  Lucia rolled her eyes. “Yeah. I can see and hear your sincerity. Spare me.” She picked the gown back up.

  His teeth ground together. He snatched the gown back and hurled it across the bedchamber. “I dinna have a care if ye take tae the cups after I fuck ye, just no’ afore.”

  “You make me sound like a damn drunk! Two chalices of mead last night and you behave like this?” Her voice turned shrill. “What the hell is wrong with you?!”

  His jaw tightened. “I dinna ken!” he shouted truthfully.

  Her mouth worked up and down, but nothing came out. She studied his face as though he’d gone daft. Mayhap he had.

  “You don’t know why you are behaving like an ass?”

  “Nay!” he snapped. Cainnech was no’ accustomed to such talk as feelings. Now he kenned the why of it. He dinna have a care for the uncertainty feelings wrought on him. “Yet I will spank ye like a child do ye think tae leave this bedchamber!”

  Her eyes grew heavy-lidded. Were she no’ vexed with him he would have thought her aroused.

  “You’re going to turn me over your knee?” she murmured.

  “Mayhap! If needs be!”

  “Then do it.” Her expression dared him. “Otherwise, I’m walking out this door naked since you won’t give me my clothes.”

  Now that Lucia understood his boorish and borderline childish behavior stemmed from vulnerability, she wasn’t upset with him. She wasn’t letting him get away with it and they’d be discussing the subject at length this very night, but her anger was gone. She supposed it wasn’t wise to goad him, but the mere mention of a spanking had gotten her wet.

  Uggh! She’d watched The Secretary one too many times!

  Lucia walked toward the doors, pretending she was ready to open them. Cainnech growled like an animal, plucked her off her feet, threw her over his shoulder, and carried her to the bed. Once there he sat down upon it, spread her across his knees, and raised his palm. He was as naked as she was.

  “Dinna forget ’twas ye who left me with no choice,” Cainnech bit out.

  His calloused hand landed on her ass with a smacking sound. She tried not to groan from pleasure. He spanked her bottom nine times more, until her pussy was drenched and her nipples felt rigid enough to cut through diamonds.

  He grunted. “Let that be a lesson, wife.” He picked her up and stood her before him. “I will never harm ye, but ye will be spanked as a child if ye behave as one.”

  “Perhaps I need another reminder,” Lucia said a bit too breathily to keep the charade up. “Now.”

  Cainnech’s eyes narrowed, then widened in dawning comprehension. “Ye like for me tae spank ye?” He swallowed. “I dinna ken what is wrong with ye,” he said thickly.

  Lucia dropped to her knees. “Me neither.”

  He opened his mouth to speak. She grabbed his cock by the root and took it into her mouth. His breath came out in a hiss.

  “Ye are mayhap crazed,” Cainnech rasped.

  Lucia had never been a blowjob kind of woman. In her past, she’d more or less given head just to receive it. Now she was sucking on a man’s cock eagerly and greedily, relishing in the sound of his groans and the feel of his muscles tensing.

  She increased the suctioning pressure of her full lips. Cainnech wound his fingers tightly into her hair and pushed the tendrils away from her face so he could watch. Lucia picked up the pace, her head bobbing up and down, as she sucked him into a state of near delirium.

  “Ye must cease this,” Cainnech grated, even as his hands pulled her face down onto his stiff erection. She could hear his teeth gritting. “I canna hold my seed.”

  Lucia sucked his cock harder and faster. The sound of lips and saliva meeting unyielding flesh resonated in the bedroom. She fucked him with her mouth and throat, faster and deeper, her head bobbing up and down at a frenetic speed. Every muscle in his body tensed; she knew he was going to come.

  “Lucia—fuck!”

  Cainnech’s entire body shuddered as he again roared out her name. His cock exploded with hot cum, erupting into her mouth like a warm gush. She drank every droplet, her mouth ravenously suckling him, milking the laird for every trickle he had to give her.

  Only when he was fully spent, his enormous cock semi-flaccid, did Lucia slow her gait down to a lull. She sucked on the tip a final time before pulling her lips from his flesh with a popping sound.

  She stood up and watched him gaze at her through hooded eyes. His breathing was ragged, his muscles glistening from perspiration.

  “And for the record?” she stated matter-of-factly.

  He quirked an eyebrow, but said nothing.

  “I fucked you with my mouth and there wasn’t a drop of mead involved.” Lucia turned and walked back to the bathing barrel. She paused before climbing in and swerved her head to look at him. “So the next time you’re feeling vulnerable just tell me so we can actually talk about it rather than choosing to behave like an ass.”

  Cainnech grunted. She recognized the sound for what it was: agreement. Satisfied, Lucia climbed back into the barrel and enjoyed the water while it was still warm.

  * * * * *

  He loved the sound of her bewitching moans. Even whilst Lucia slept, her body responded to his touch. Whether or not his wife was prepared to accept such as truth, ’twas because she had been created for him alone.

  Lucia had fallen to sleep directly after her bath, whilst Cainnech had spent the past two hours or so lost in thought. All the thinking in the world later and he still had no notion as to why he’d behaved an arse to her.

  The only certainty in his mind was he’d been beguiled by the mere idea of her from the first he’d been told of her possible existence. Once he’d known her to be real, the beguilement had become a determination to own her. After looking upon her face, determination was raised to obsession. Yet ’twas her loyalty to Gabhran and her compassion toward Leith that had caused his ob
session to become what he now felt—equal parts love, adoration and respect.

  ’Twas mayhap too many emotions for a mon unaccustomed to feelings to wrestle with. Especially considering he’d met and married her but two short days past. Until Lucia, Cainnech had never been able to ken how a mon turned to mush when he took a wench to wife. Not all men did, nor mayhap even most of them, for the majority of marriage unions were entered into for reasons other than love or even mutual desire. Yet every so often a mon wed the wench he coveted with everything that he was. It happened rarely, but when it did…mush.

  Cainnech sucked on his sleeping wife’s nipples, her small, unaware breaths of pleasure like an aphrodisiac. A part of him thought ’twas wise to permit her to sleep rather than wake her in the midst of the night, but his desire to be joined with her overrode his better intentions.

  Her body, so soft and silky to the touch, was his. Truth or no’, it had not escaped his notice that whilst he referred to Lucia as wife at every given opportunity, she’d yet to refer to him as husband. Not afore others or even in private. Mayhap ’twas foolish to wish for more after two short days, yet he did.

  Cainnech released her nipple on a suctioning sound. Lowering his head to her mons, he thrust apart her legs with his eager hands and buried his face in her pussy. He licked and sucked on her cunt feverishly, in the way he’d desired to since first laying eyes upon her. Her breathy moans grew a bit louder. She sounded halfway between the world of dreams and the world of wakefulness.

  He softly tugged at her clit with his lips then slurped it into his mouth and suckled it. “Cainnech,” she sleepily gasped, “what are—ohhhh.”

  His hands released her legs, which she was now holding open for him of her own volition, and slid up to massage her stiff nipples whilst he sucked on her cunt. Her moans encouraged him. He kept up the same pace, changing nothing, giving her the pleasure she had given him afore sleeping.

 

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